A new BTS Collab event hosted by myself and @anyamaris
Proof. The up and coming hot new music company born from the dreams of seven friends: the wealthy Kim Brothers- Seokjin, Namjoon and Taehyung along with their half-brother Jungkook, their cousin Jimin and two friends from school, Yoongi and Hoseok.
Each of them are very dedicated to their careers, and yet, there is something lacking in all of their personal lives. While they created something together as a team, every one of them will have to face their own trials when it comes to matters of the heart.
*Links will be added as they're posted. Individual posting dates TBD
Title: Loosen up
Author: @colormepurplex2
Pairing: CEO!Namjoon x Personal Assistant!Reader
Genre(s): CEO AU; boss/assistant; Angst; fluff; Smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Namjoon is uptight, strait-laced, and far too serious. He knows it, his business partners and family know it, and, as his personal assistant, you know it better than any of them. So, what do you do when he asks—no, *begs*—for you to help him loosen up a little?
Summary: Jin's life was structured around routine. He preferred it that way. A rigid businessman in public and private meets his match in a vivacious barista employed at the coffee shop he stops in at every morning. She flips his world on its axis and forces him to question everything he thought he wanted. But will he let her melt the ice around his heart and can love brew where it's least expected?
Title: Looking in
Author: @anyamaris
Pairing: CEO!Taehyung x Childhood Friend!Reader
Genre(s): Unrequited love; angst; smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Returning home after years at University, you’re eager to establish your own business and reconnect with your long time friends. Surprisingly, your childhood crush has developed into something more mature, but there’s just one catch. He’s in an arranged marriage with your best friend.
Title: Beautiful Mistakes
Author: @lo1k-diamonds
Pairing: Producer!Yoongi x Songwriter!Reader
Genre(s): Co-workers to lovers; Angst; Smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Yoongi wouldn't be caught dead meddling in people's lives, but once he sees you on that screen, he has to help you somehow. It's an impulse, a mistake. The kind that ruins everything for you. He can't undo it, but he can help you turn your life around, even if he can't tell you why.
Title: Rhythm reborn
Author: @moonleeai
Pairing: Lead Choreographer!Hoseok x Ex-girlfriend!Reader
Genre(s): Second chance AU; angst, smut, fluff
WC: TBD
Summary: You took a chance on love, but Hoseok’s relentless pursuit of success pulls you apart, leaving both of you tangled in loneliness. Yet, beneath the weight of pain and silence, a fragile hope flickers—a chance to rediscover the rhythm that connects the heart, offering a second chance at love.
Title: Promise
Author: @pars-ley
Pairing: Lead Lyricist!Jimin x Family Friend!Reader
Genre(s): Arranged marriage AU; love triangle; mutual pining; angst; fluff; smut
WC: TBD
Summary: Jimin has been a constant in your life ever since you can remember. He's the person you go to in times of need, the one you trust more than anyone and the one you fantasise about spending your life with. If you gave him the chance you know he'd jump at a life with you too. Sounds perfect, right? Just one problem…you're betrothed to his cousin.
Title: Who...
Author: @mrsparkjimin18
Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Older!Reader
Genre(s): Forbidden love/taboo; age gap reader; Smut; Angst
WC: TBD
Summary: You never expected to see him again – not like this. No longer a little boy, but a man. And not just any man…the one you can’t seem to ignore. There’s a line between your fates. Drawn by time, by age, by everything you’re supposed to be. But this – whatever this is – feels like the kind of choice that changes everything. If you take one step closer, there may be no turning back…
Idol!Kim Namjoon x Writer!Reader
AU: Idol, Friends to Lovers, Exes to Lovers
Rating: MA
WC: 9,271
⚠️Warnings: unprotected sex, swearing
Story written for @lo1k-diamonds as part of the @bangtanwritershq Fic Exchange Event “Mikrokosmos Music Box”
Music Box Song: Pied Piper
Summary: A showcase forces you back into the orbit of Kim Namjoon, the man who once loved you and then left you broken. Seeing him again reopens old wounds, but history unfolds, and he tries to explain his past mistakes, while you struggle between anger, hurt, and the part of you that never stopped loving him.
You tell yourself it’s just work.
That’s the only reason you’re here, standing in the back of a packed venue, press badge hanging around your collar like a shield. Your company assigned you to cover BTS’s comeback showcase, and refusing wasn’t an option. You tried. God, you tried. But the moment your manager said his name, your stomach dropped in that old, familiar way you hate. You should have known better than to think distance could save you from him.
You thought you were past this. Past him.
The lights dim. The crowd screams. And then he walks out.
Kim Namjoon.
The man who once held your heart like it was made of glass, then shattered it without a backward glance.
You freeze. Your lungs collapse. You watch him claim center stage, every movement dripping with the confidence you once mistook for sincerity. The opening notes slash through you; your pulse surges. Of all the songs, it’s the one about temptation, about coming back when you know you shouldn’t. About someone who can’t resist him. It feels less like a performance and more like a summons.
You hate how fitting it feels.
He moves with confidence, charisma, every line dripping with that dangerous charm you once mistook for sincerity. The crowd eats it up. They always do.
But then his eyes sweep the room.
And land on you.
It’s only a second. A flicker. A moment so brief you could pretend you imagined it.
But you didn’t.
You know that look. You spent years memorizing it.
His expression doesn’t change, but something sharp and knowing flashes across his face, like he’s amused. Like he’s calling you out. Like he’s saying, You still follow me, don’t you?
Your chest tightens painfully.
You look away first.
You shouldn’t have come. You knew this would happen. You knew seeing him again would rip open wounds you spent years stitching shut. But you thought you were stronger now. You thought time had dulled the ache.
Turns out you were wrong.
The song continues, but you don’t hear it. Not really. All you hear is the echo of the past, his voice telling you he didn’t have time for your feelings, that you were a distraction, that he needed space to focus on his career. You remember the way he walked away from you in that hallway, leaving you crying alone because he had a schedule to get to.
You swallow hard, bile rising in your throat.
Your mind takes you back to the night he looked at you with exhaustion on his face and impatience in his voice and told you, as gently as a knife, that you were asking too much.
Too much.
You had loved him through every late night, every missed call, every quiet apology that never quite became enough. You had told yourself love meant understanding, that being patient meant being good, that if you just gave him space, he would come back to you softer, surer, ready to choose you the way you had always chosen him.
Instead, he chose his work.
He chose his schedule.
He chose the door.
You remember standing in that hallway trying not to cry, trying to keep your voice steady while your chest felt like it was caving in.
“Do I matter to you at all?”
And he had looked away.
Not because he was cruel. That almost would have been easier.
Because he was tired.
Because he was afraid.
Because he knew the answer would hurt you and said it anyway in a form that sounded kinder than it was.
“I can’t do this right now,” he’d said. “I don’t have time for this. Not with everything else on my plate.”
This.
As if your heart were an inconvenience.
As if your love were a problem that could be postponed until he had room for it.
“You’re asking me to choose,” he had said then, voice low and sharp with frustration. “And I’m telling you I can’t. I need space. I need to focus.”
And you had stood there, shattered and silent, while he walked away.
You didn’t even remember him turning the corner.
Only the sound of his steps fading.
Only the way your own breath had broken in your throat when the door finally clicked shut behind him.
Only the humiliation of being left there, in the same building as everyone else’s dreams, with yours collapsing quietly in your hands.
Now, in the present, the same sensation claws its way up your throat.
You can feel the old wound reopening with brutal precision.
When the song ends, the crowd erupts. You slip out before the lights come back up, weaving through bodies, ignoring the way your heart rattles in your chest. You need air. You need distance. You need to get out before you do something stupid, like look at him again.
Outside, the night is cool, but your skin burns.
You’re halfway to the parking lot when your phone buzzes.
A text from the one name you should’ve erased, but never did.
Namjoon: You came.
You stare at the screen, heart pounding, anger and hurt twisting together until you can’t tell them apart.
Of course, he noticed.
Of course, he reached out.
Of course, he still has the power to ruin you with two words.
You lock your phone without replying.
You tell yourself you don’t care.
You tell yourself you’re over him.
You tell yourself he can’t pull you back in again.
But as you walk away from the venue, your chest aches in that old, familiar way.
And you know, painfully, that the past isn’t as dead as you wanted it to be.
The worst part is that some traitorous part of you still wants to follow wherever he leads.
Flashback
The first thing you learn about Namjoon is that he talks to the room when he thinks no one is listening.
Not in a grand, dramatic way. Not like he’s performing for himself. It’s smaller than that. Quieter. A half-formed thought muttered under his breath while he rereads a line for the tenth time, or a soft exhale when he gets stuck on a melody and doesn’t know yet that you’ve already noticed.
The second thing you learn is that he likes it when you stay.
Not in any way he says out loud.
Just in the way his shoulders loosen when you settle into the corner of the studio with your laptop open. In the way he glances over at you before he makes another pass at a verse, as if your presence alone is enough to keep him from spiraling into his own head. You tell yourself it’s harmless, but it never feels harmless when he looks at you like that.
And, eventually, in the way he starts saving you the good chair without asking.
Tonight is no different.
You let yourself into the studio with a quiet knock, balancing a coffee carrier in one hand and a bag of convenience store snacks in the other.
Namjoon looks up from his desk and blinks once. “You brought energizers.”
You set the bag down beside him. “You sounded like a man who was about to become unbearable.”
He gives you a look. “I’m always unbearable.”
“Exactly,” you say, slipping off your shoes and making yourself comfortable on the couch like you belong there, because by now, in the small, private world of this room, you almost do. “I’m preventing a disaster.”
He huffs a laugh and reaches for the coffee first. “You know, most people bring encouragement.”
“I’m not most people.”
“No,” he says after a beat, watching you over the rim of the cup, “you’re not.”
The words land a little harder than they should.
You pretend not to notice.
Instead, you pull your laptop onto your knees and open the draft he sent earlier. “So,” you say lightly, “are we working tonight, or are we just staring dramatically at the walls again?”
He swivels his chair halfway toward you. “I was thinking.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“That’s rude.”
“That’s accurate.”
His mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “You’re in a mood.”
“You’re the one who texted me at eleven-thirty like the fate of the universe depended on this chorus.”
“It kind of does.”
You glance up. “It really doesn’t.”
“It does to me.”
And there it is again, that pull in his voice, soft, certain, impossible to ignore.
The room is quiet after that. Not uncomfortable. Just… aware.
You look back down at the page before your face can give anything away. “Fine. Play it.”
The rough track fills the studio, unfinished and stripped down, all raw edges and half-formed emotion. You listen carefully, eyes on the notes he sent, while he leans back in his chair and watches you like he’s waiting for a verdict.
When the song ends, you tap the screen with one finger.
“This part,” you say, “is too careful.”
His brows lift. “Careful?”
“You’re protecting yourself from the line right before it.” You tilt your head. “You don’t trust it enough to let it hurt.”
He looks at you for a long second. “You make it sound easy.”
“It’s not easy,” you say. “It’s just honest.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You say that like honesty never costs anything.”
You pause. You know he’s getting too close to the truth, and worse, you know he’s letting you. That’s the thing about him. He has a way of slipping a little too close to the truth when you’re not ready for it.
You meet his eyes. “I just think it’s worth it.”
He studies you like he’s trying to decide whether he believes you or not. Then, quietly, “You always make me feel like I’m missing something.”
“Because you are.”
He gives a short laugh. “There you go again.”
“Again with what?”
“Seeing straight through me.”
You shrug, though something in your chest tightens. “You’re not that hard to read.”
That earns a slow, skeptical look. “That’s a lie.”
You smile into your coffee. “Okay. Maybe a little hard.”
His gaze lingers.
Not in a way that feels dangerous yet. Not exactly.
More like he’s getting used to how it feels to look at you and not want to look away.
You shift first, breaking the moment before it can become something else.
“Besides,” you say, turning back to the draft, “if you were easy to read, I’d be out of a job.”
“That’s what you think this is?” he asks.
You don’t answer immediately.
Because there are easier answers than the truth.
So you give him the version that’s safer.
“It’s what I tell myself.”
He’s quiet for a moment after that.
Then he reaches over and steals one of the snacks from the bag, and the tension dissolves just enough for you to breathe again.
“You’re impossible,” you say.
“You came here anyway.”
“Yes,” you reply, dryly. “For the honor of being emotionally exhausted.”
He laughs, genuinely this time, and the sound stays in the room long after it fades. And you hate how quickly that sound settles into you, like it’s always had a place there.
For the next hour, you work in pieces. He plays a verse. You make a note. He argues with the note. You defend it. He pretends to hate your answer and then, five minutes later, uses it exactly as you suggested.
He doesn’t mention it when he does.
He just plays it again, quieter this time, glancing at you like he’s waiting to see if you notice.
You do.
Of course you do.
“You changed it,” you say without looking up.
“I didn’t,” he replies immediately.
You lift a brow, eyes still on your screen. “You literally did.”
Silence.
Then, a beat later, “…maybe a little.”
You smile despite yourself.
He watches that, too.
And something in his expression softens in a way that makes your chest feel strangely warm.
It becomes easier than it should be.
That’s the problem.
Not the fighting. Not the teasing. Not even the way he watches you while you think.
It’s how natural it feels to be here.
To exist in the same room without trying too hard.
To fill the silence without forcing it.
To understand when he needs space and when he wants company.
At some point, he gets up to stretch, rolling his neck with a tired grimace. “You should go home soon.”
You glance at the clock. “That sounded suspiciously like concern.”
“It was.”
“Wow,” you say. “You’re getting sentimental.”
He snorts. “Don’t ruin it.”
You stand too, reaching for your jacket on the chair. “I’d never.”
You’re halfway to the door when he says your name.
Not sharply. Not urgently.
Just enough to make you pause.
You turn.
He’s leaning against the desk now, one hand braced behind him, looking at you with an expression you can’t quite name. Tired, maybe. Thoughtful. A little too open.
“What?” you ask.
He hesitates.
That alone is enough to make your stomach dip.
Then he says, “It’s too quiet when you leave.”
You blink, unsure whether you heard him correctly. “You want me to stay?”
The question is casual. Too casual. You know it, and he knows it.
His gaze doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“I didn’t.”
You fold your arms, trying for lightness and failing just enough to feel the heat rise in your face. “Namjoon.”
He looks away first, which is somehow worse.
Then he says, more softly than before, “I just work better when you’re here.”
Your pulse gives a traitorous little jump.
You stare at him.
He stares at the floor like it’s suddenly fascinating.
There it is again. That feeling. The one that makes the air feel thinner. The one that keeps showing up more often lately, settling between you like a question neither of you knows how to ask properly.
You clear your throat. “That’s a very polite way of saying I’m your emotional support human.”
That makes him laugh under his breath, and the moment breaks before it can become too much.
“Maybe,” he says.
You reach for your bag. “I should probably be offended.”
“Are you?”
“Not yet.”
He pushes off the desk and walks you to the door, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him beside you, but not so close that either of you has to name it. In another life, maybe this would mean nothing. In this one, it means everything.
Outside the studio, the hallway is dim.
He stops beside you instead of stepping away right away, and that small hesitation makes something in your chest tighten.
“You can come back tomorrow,” he says.
You arch a brow. “Is that an order?”
“No,” he says, a little too quickly. Then, after a beat, “It’s… an invitation.”
The word hangs between you.
Soft.
Careful.
Loaded.
You let it sit there for a second before answering. “Then maybe I will.”
His expression changes so subtly you almost miss it.
Relief, maybe.
Or something close enough to scare you.
You look up at him and find him already watching you.
For one suspended second, neither of you move.
Then you lift a hand and tap two fingers against his chest, right over his heart, because you need to do something with the strange tenderness building in your throat.
“Don’t get used to it,” you murmur.
His gaze drops to your hand, then returns to your face. “Too late.”
The answer is so soft you almost think you imagined it.
You pull your hand back first.
And when you walk down the hall, you realize something with a kind of terrible clarity.
You don’t just like being in the room with him.
You like who you become there.
After that night, you start noticing things.
The way Namjoon waits for you to settle before he starts speaking. The way he glances at the empty side of the couch when you’re late. The way he remembers your coffee order without asking, the way he moves just a little slower when you’re standing too close, as if he’s giving you time to decide whether that closeness matters.
It does.
That’s the problem.
It matters too much.
You tell yourself it’s nothing. Habit. Comfort. Friendship stretching into familiarity.
But then he looks at you one evening over the rim of his coffee cup and says, “You’re quiet tonight.”
You shrug, staring at the screen in front of you. “I’m always quiet.”
“No,” he says, almost absently. “Not like this.”
You look up.
He’s not teasing. Not really. There’s something softer in his expression now, something that makes your stomach tilt in a way you don’t know how to name.
“You’ve been doing that a lot,” you say.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you’re trying to figure something out.”
He freezes just enough for you to notice.
The air shifts.
He sets his cup down carefully. “Maybe I am.”
Your pulse gives a small, traitorous kick.
You keep your face neutral through sheer force of will. “And?”
“And what?”
You lean back in your chair, pretending you aren’t suddenly too aware of the room, the silence, the fact that he’s watching you like he’s forgotten how to pretend not to.
“Have you figured it out yet?”
For once, he doesn’t answer right away.
Instead, he looks at you for a long moment, and the quiet between you starts to feel less like peace and more like a line either one of you could cross if you were brave enough.
Then he says, very softly, “No.”
Your breath catches.
The word is so simple. So careful.
But it lands like a confession anyway.
You open your mouth, then close it again.
He’s still looking at you.
Still waiting.
Still not moving.
Neither of you is.
And that is somehow worse than if he had.
Later, when the room has gone dim and the studio lights have been turned low, you end up alone on the couch while he finishes one more version of the track. It’s late. Too late. The kind of late that makes honesty feel easier than it should.
You’re half-asleep when the music stops.
You hear his chair roll back. Hear his footsteps cross the room.
Then the cushion dips beside you.
You open your eyes.
He’s close. Too close.
Not touching, but near enough that you can feel the warmth of him, the pull of him, the quiet attention he never used to let himself show this openly. It feels less like closeness and more like surrender.
“You should go home,” he says.
You turn your head toward him. “You first.”
He huffs a small laugh. “You’re stalling.”
You don’t deny it.
He leans back against the couch, one arm resting along the top of it, and the movement makes him look completely at ease in a way that is almost unfair. “What’s wrong?”
You stare at the ceiling for a second before answering.
“I don’t know.”
It’s the truth, which is irritating.
Because the truth is that something has changed, and you can feel it in every small silence, every glance, every accidental brush of shoulders. You can feel it in the way being here no longer feels like just friendship, but not yet something you’re allowed to name. You can feel the song in it, slow and impossible to stop listening to.
Namjoon is quiet.
Then, after a moment, he says, “You can tell me.”
You almost laugh at that, because the problem is exactly that you do tell him things. More than you mean to. More than you should.
So when you turn to face him and find him already looking at you like that, careful and open and unguarded, the words come out before you can stop them.
“It feels different lately.”
His eyes don’t move.
“Different how?” he asks.
Your throat tightens.
You could lie. Make a joke. Change the subject.
Instead, because he deserves the truth and because you’re tired of pretending you don’t feel everything too much, you whisper, “Like I’m waiting for something.”
His expression shifts so subtly you almost miss it.
“What kind of something?”
Your heart is beating too hard now. You can hear it in your ears.
You look at him, really look at him, and realize he’s not asking carelessly. He’s asking because he already knows the answer might change things.
That should scare you. It does, but not enough to make you back away.
You breathe in slowly. “I think you know.”
His gaze drops to your mouth for the briefest second.
That’s all it takes.
The room goes still.
The air between you feels charged, fragile, impossible to ignore.
He says your name, and it sounds different now. Lower. Rougher around the edges. Like he’s calling you closer before he’s even touched you.
Your pulse stutters.
You don’t move.
You don’t tell him to stop.
So he doesn’t.
He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, and when you don’t, his hand lifts to your cheek with impossible care. Your breath catches before he even touches you.
The kiss is soft at first.
Almost hesitant.
Like he’s testing whether this is real.
Then your hand slips into the front of his shirt, and that’s all it takes to break the careful restraint he’s been holding in place. He exhales against your mouth, and the sound sends a shiver through you.
His other hand settles at your waist, warm through your clothes, anchoring you to him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t keep hold of something.
You kiss him back harder.
Not desperate.
Not rushed.
Just honest.
It feels like a door opening slowly after being shut for too long.
Like every late-night conversation, every shared silence, every almost-moment has finally found its shape.
When he pulls back, it’s only enough to rest his forehead against yours.
Neither of you speaks right away.
The silence isn’t empty anymore.
It’s full of everything you just did not say.
“This changes things,” you whisper.
His thumb brushes once, gently, at your waist. “I know.”
You swallow. “And if I panic?”
His mouth curves just slightly. “Then I’ll wait.”
That nearly undoes you. Because he says it like waiting is devotion, like staying is the same thing as choosing you.
You close your eyes for a second, trying to steady your breathing, but he’s still there, still close, still looking at you like you’ve become the most important thing in the room.
When you open your eyes again, he’s watching you with something quiet and devastating in his expression.
Something hopeful.
Something scared.
And then he kisses you again.
This one is slower.
Deeper.
Less careful.
It’s the kind of kiss that changes the shape of a friendship before either of you has words for what it means.
By the time you finally pull away, your chest aches with the force of how much you feel.
Namjoon doesn’t move right away.
Neither do you.
Then, softly, he asks, “Is this okay?”
The question hits harder than the kiss did.
Because it isn’t just desire.
It’s trust.
It’s choice.
It’s him giving you room to say no, even now.
You look at him, this man who started as a work assignment, then became a friend, and now feels like home, and nod.
“Yes,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”
His eyes close for just a second.
Relief passes over his face like he’s been holding his breath for weeks.
When he kisses you again, it’s fierce and hopeful, like a beginning or a beautiful disaster.
He doesn't stop. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips with a kind of reverent desperation, and then he's lifting you onto his lap.
"Namjoon-" you start, but his mouth is on your throat, teeth grazing the tendon there with just enough pressure to make you arch, and your words dissolve into a gasp. The warmth of him makes it impossible to remember why you ever resisted.
"Tell me to stop," he breathes against your skin, even as his hands are already pulling your shirt free from your waistband, fingers finding bare skin and making you shiver. "Tell me, and I will."
You don't. You reach for him instead, yanking at the buttons of his shirt until they give, until you can press your palms against the heat of his chest, feel his heart hammering against your touch.
He groans, and then he's between your thighs, pressing you back against the couch with his weight, and you can feel how hard he is through the layers still separating you. The friction makes your head fall back, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him closer.
"Fuck," he whispers, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "You feel… Damn, I've thought about this. I've thought about you like this."
"Show me," you challenge, and it comes out breathless, needy.
He does. His hands map your body like he's memorizing every curve, every sensitive place that makes you gasp. When he cups your breast through your bra, thumb brushing over the peak, you moan loud enough that he captures your mouth to swallow the sound.
The studio is too exposed, but you don't care. You're already reaching for his belt, fingers fumbling in your urgency, and he helps you, shoving his jeans down enough to free himself. He's thick and hot in your hand, and he moans against your neck when you stroke him once, twice, learning the weight of him.
"Wait," he pants, stilling your hand. "Wait, I don't-" He pulls back enough to meet your eyes, and his are blown wide, dark with want. "I don't have anything."
You still. You should care more. You should stop. But his thumb is tracing circles on your inner thigh, climbing higher, and your brain is fogging with need.
"I'm on the pill," you whisper. "And I'm clean. If you-"
"I am," he says immediately. He kisses you again, softer this time. "I want to feel you. Just you."
You nod, and that's all the permission he needs. He hooks his fingers in your underwear and pulls, the fabric tearing slightly in his haste, and then his hand is there, sliding through your wetness, testing how ready you are.
"Namjoon," you whimper, rocking against his fingers.
"You're soaked," he murmurs, almost wonderingly. "For me?"
"For you," you confirm, and then he's guiding himself to your entrance, the head of him pressing against you, and the stretch as he pushes inside is so good you forget how to breathe.
He goes slow, watching your face for any sign of discomfort, but you're clutching at his shoulders, pulling him deeper, and when he's fully seated inside you, you both exhale shakily.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice rough.
"Move," you demand, and he does.
He sets a rhythm that's almost brutal in its intensity, the couch creaking beneath you, your heels digging into his lower back to urge him on. Every thrust hits something deep inside you that makes sparks dance behind your eyelids, and when he reaches between you to press his thumb against your clit, you cry out his name.
"That's it," he encourages, his pace faltering as he chases his own release. "Let me hear you. I've wanted this… wanted you so fucking long."
You come apart around him, your orgasm crashing through you suddenly and overwhelmingly, your nails scoring his back as you ride it out. He follows seconds later, burying his face in your neck and groaning long and low as he spills inside you, the pulse of him intimate and claiming.
After, when you're both trembling and sweat-cooled, he holds you on that couch, your bodies tangled together. Namjoon doesn’t move right away.
He keeps you tucked against him, one hand spread wide over your back, fingers absently tracing slow, uneven patterns like he’s still trying to memorize the shape of you. His other arm is wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close, not tightly, not like he’s afraid, just… securely.
Like he’s decided you belong there.
Your cheek is pressed to his chest, and his heartbeat is still a little fast, but steadier now. You follow the rhythm of it without thinking, your breathing slowly syncing with his.
For a long moment, neither of you says anything.
It doesn’t feel necessary.
Your fingers drift lazily along his side, catching on the edge of his shirt where it’s bunched up, and you smooth it down without really thinking about it. The small, automatic gesture makes something in his chest shift.
He lets out a quiet breath.
“You’re still here,” he murmurs, almost like he’s surprised by it.
You tilt your head just enough to look up at him. “Where else would I go?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
His gaze drops to your face, softer now than you’ve ever seen it, unguarded in a way that would have terrified him a few weeks ago. His thumb comes up to brush gently under your eye, like he’s checking that you’re real.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just thought… maybe it would feel different.”
“It does,” you say honestly.
That makes his expression flicker, something uncertain passing through it. “Yeah?”
You shift slightly, propping yourself up just enough to meet his eyes properly. “Yeah. But not in a bad way.”
He studies you like that answer matters more than anything else you could have said.
“Okay,” he says quietly.
You watch the way his shoulders loosen, just a fraction, like he’s been bracing for something he doesn’t have to face after all.
Your hand drifts up to his collar, straightening it where you’d pulled it out of place earlier. It’s a small, almost domestic motion, and it makes him go very still beneath you.
“You’re staring again,” you murmur.
“I know.”
“Figured anything out yet?”
His mouth curves faintly, but there’s no teasing in it this time. “Yeah.”
Your brows lift. “That’s new.”
He huffs a soft breath, eyes flicking between yours like he’s choosing his words carefully. “I think…” He pauses, then starts again, quieter. “I think I don’t want this to be something we pretend didn’t happen.”
Your chest tightens a little at that.
“Good,” you say, just as softly. “Because I don’t think I could.”
Something like relief passes through him again, deeper this time, more certain.
His hand slides up your back, settling at the nape of your neck, not pulling you in, just resting there. “Stay a little longer,” he adds, almost like an afterthought, but not quite.
You don’t tease him for it this time.
“Okay.”
The word is simple. Easy.
But it lands between you like a promise.
He leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead, so different from before that it makes your breath catch anyway. There’s no urgency in it. No edge.
Just warmth.
Just him.
You let yourself sink back down against him after, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet hum of the studio equipment still running in the background.
At some point, his fingers find your hand and lace through it without asking.
At some point, your eyes drift closed.
And just before sleep pulls you under, you feel his grip tighten slightly, like he’s making sure you’re still there.
Like he’s not ready to let go yet.
Neither are you.
You shouldn’t have replied.
You know that, and you spent the whole night pacing, telling yourself not to. But when Namjoon texted again — We should talk — something in you cracked. Curiosity, maybe. Anger. Or the part of you that still wanted answers, no matter how much you hated that it did.
Whatever it was, it got the better of you, and by the time you realized it, you were already following the pull of him like a warning you were never meant to resist.
Now you’re outside his hotel room, staring at the small number plaque by the door, your pulse hammering in your throat. You shouldn’t be here. You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him drag you back into his orbit.
And yet, here you are.
You knock once. The door opens almost immediately.
Namjoon looks different up close. Older. Sharper around the edges. Tired, in a way you don’t remember. But his eyes, those warm, thoughtful eyes, are unchanged, and that hurts more than anything else.
“Hey,” he says quietly.
You don’t answer. You step inside instead, because if you linger on him too long, you might lose whatever nerve brought you here in the first place.
The room is dim, oddly familiar, and the sight of it pulls at something in your chest.
He gestures toward the chair. You stay standing.
“Why did you want to talk?” you ask, folding your arms.
He hesitates, which is enough to put you on edge. Namjoon never used to hesitate.
“I wanted to explain,” he says. “About the song. About… everything.”
You let out a short, humorless laugh. “You think I’m upset about the song?”
He flinches. Good. Let him feel it.
He turns to his laptop and opens a file. A rough beat fills the room, stripped down and raw, far less polished than the version you just heard.
“I wrote it about someone I couldn’t let go of,” he says softly. “Someone I treated badly. Someone I—”
“Don’t,” you cut in. “Don’t try to make this easier on yourself.”
His jaw tightens. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Really?” You take a step closer, anger rising fast. “Because I remember exactly how it ended. I remember you saying you didn’t have time for my feelings. That I was a distraction. That your career had to come first.”
He closes his eyes as if the words physically land. You want him to hurt, but even now, he still looks like he’s pulling you closer just by being sorry.
You keep going, because stopping now would mean breathing, and breathing would mean feeling.
“I remember crying in a hallway while you walked away because you had a schedule. I remember you choosing everything else over me. Every single time.”
Silence follows.
Heavy. Suffocating.
When he opens his eyes again, he looks wrecked.
“I know,” he says. “I know what I did. I know how badly I hurt you.”
You hate that part of you wants to hear more. You hate that any of this is getting through.
“I was selfish,” he says. “I was scared. I thought pushing you away would make things easier. For me. For my career.” He swallows. “I didn’t realize I was destroying the one thing I actually cared about.”
You look away because the sincerity in his voice is too much to take in all at once.
Your hand closes around the strap of your bag. “I can’t do this,” you say. “I can’t let you ruin me again.”
You turn to go, but his hand catches your wrist. not hard, not forceful, just desperate.
“Don’t,” he says, and his voice cracks.
“Let go,” you snap, even though you’re not pulling away.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he steps closer, backing you toward the door, and you can feel the heat of him, smell the cologne that used to cling to your sheets.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits, forehead resting against yours. His hand slides from your wrist to your waist, careful, almost pleading. “I write songs about you. I dream about you. I wake up reaching for you, and you’re not there.”
“Good,” you say, though your voice shakes. “You deserve that.”
“I do,” he says. His thumb moves in slow circles against your side. “I do deserve it. But I’m still suffering. Every day without you is suffering.”
Your eyes sting. You blink hard, furious at the tears gathering there.
“Then why did you leave?”
“Because I was a coward,” he says. His hand lifts to your face, cradling your jaw so gently it nearly undoes you. “Because I thought I was protecting you from my life by destroying us. I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”
His thumb brushes your lower lip.
Your breath catches.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispers, the same way he did before. “Tell me to let you go, and I will. I’ll never contact you again. I’ll let you hate me in peace.”
You should.
You know you should.
Instead, you grab his shirt and pull him down to you.
The kiss is angry, all sharp edges and pent-up frustration, teeth and breath and years of missing each other. You bite his lip hard enough to taste copper, and he groans into your mouth, hands sliding down to grip your hips and lift you.
You wrap your legs around his waist, your back hitting the door with a dull thud as he presses closer, every bit of restraint fraying at the seams.
Then he says your name, rough, wrecked, and you pull back before the moment can consume you completely.
His grip loosens as he lowers you, and for a second, he doesn’t understand. You can see it in the way his expression shifts, confused, then cautious.
Then he sees your face.
And everything stills.
Not completely. His hands are still on you, his body still close, but the urgency has broken apart, replaced by something quieter. Something unsure.
“Don’t,” you say, and your voice cracks. You hate that it does. You swallow and try again. “Don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?” he asks, careful now.
“Like you remember me,” you say, your chest tight. “Like this is familiar. Like we can just fall back into it.”
His jaw tightens. “It is familiar.”
“That’s the problem.”
The words land hard.
He eases back just enough to look at you properly, his hands loosening as if he’s forcing himself not to hold on too tightly.
“You think this is just habit?” he asks.
“I think,” you say, struggling to keep your voice steady, “that you don’t get to touch me like nothing happened.”
That gets to him.
You see it in the flicker across his face, not anger, not defense, just pain.
“Nothing happened?” he repeats softly.
“You left,” you snap, and the crack in your control finally shows. “You walked away like I was something you could come back to later. Like I’d still be here when you decided you were ready.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did.” Your voice rises before you can stop it. “You made that choice for me. You didn’t ask. You didn’t fight. You just decided I was expendable.”
His face tightens like the word hit too close.
“Don’t rewrite it like I didn’t care,” he says quietly.
“Then what was it?” you demand. “Because from where I was standing, it looked a lot like you choosing everything else over me.”
“I was trying to keep you from getting hurt.”
You laugh, bitter and sharp. “You don’t get to say that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You hurt me anyway.”
The silence that follows is loud enough to feel.
His hands fall away.
“I know,” he says finally, and his voice is so quiet it almost breaks something in you. “I know I did.”
You shake your head and blink hard, furious at the tears threatening to spill.
“I spent months,” you whisper, “thinking I wasn’t enough for you. That if I had been easier, quieter, less demanding, you would’ve stayed.”
His head snaps up. “Don’t.”
“But it’s true,” you say, voice shaking now. “That’s what you made me believe.”
“No.” His voice sharpens. “That’s what I made you feel. That’s not the same thing.”
“It is when you’re the one living it.”
He drags a hand through his hair, pacing once like he needs movement to survive this conversation.
“I didn’t leave because you were too much,” he says. “I left because you were too important.”
You stare at him. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does when you’re me.”
And for the first time, he doesn’t look composed. He doesn’t look in control.
He looks like a man who made the worst decision of his life and has been carrying it ever since.
“I knew,” he says, voice rough, “that if I stayed, I would choose you. Every time. Over sleep. Over work. Over everything I’d spent years building.”
“And that was a bad thing?” you ask.
“At the time?” He shakes his head. “Yeah. Because I didn’t know how to have both. And instead of learning, I ran.”
It’s not pretty. It’s not romantic.
It’s just honest.
“I thought letting you go would hurt less than failing you,” he says. “I thought if I ruined it myself, it wouldn’t fall apart later.”
Your chest aches.
“That wasn’t your choice to make,” you whisper.
“I know that now.”
You look at him, this man who once felt like everything, then nothing, and now something dangerously in between.
“You don’t get to come back and pick up where we left off,” you say.
“I’m not asking to.”
“Then what are you asking for?”
He hesitates, and somehow that hurts more than anything else.
“Anything,” he admits. “Even if it’s just you not looking at me like I’m a stranger who ruined your life.”
Your throat tightens.
“You didn’t ruin my life,” you say.
“I ruined us.”
You don’t argue.
Because he did. And he knows it.
“I don’t know how to forgive you,” you admit, barely above a whisper.
“I don’t know how to forgive myself either,” he says.
For a moment, neither of you moves.
Then he adds, quieter, “But I want to try.”
Your heart does the worst possible thing and softens.
“I should go.”
He doesn’t stop you. He just watches you with those tired, devastating eyes.
You leave anyway.
And this time, you feel him watching you all the way down the hall.
You leave him with all the words he should have said years ago.
By the time you reach the elevator, your chest is tight with the one truth you didn’t want to admit.
You’re not over him.
And that terrifies you more than anything.
You didn’t expect silence to hurt this much.
After storming out of the hotel, you thought you’d feel relief. Freedom. Vindication.
Instead, the quiet that follows is suffocating. Every hour without a message from him feels like a reminder of the past, of how easily he once let you slip through his fingers.
You tell yourself it’s better this way, you don’t care.
You tell yourself you’re done.
But the truth sits heavy in your chest. You’re not done. Not even close.
Only three days pass before you see him.
Not in person, on your phone screen. A livestream. You shouldn’t click it. You know better. But your thumb betrays you, and suddenly he’s there, smiling for millions, looking like the world hasn’t shifted off its axis.
Except… something’s wrong.
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. His voice is softer, strained. He keeps losing his train of thought. He laughs at things that aren’t funny. He looks like a man trying to hold himself together with shaky hands.
Then someone asks him a question in the comments. You don’t see what it is, but you see the way he freezes.
He looks down. Breathes in. And says, “Sometimes the person you hurt the most is the one you wanted to protect.”
Your heart stops.
He doesn’t say your name. He doesn’t have to. You feel the words like a bruise pressed too hard. It sounds less like an answer and more like a plea meant only for you.
You close the stream when it’s over and try to convince yourself it means nothing.
But when the doorbell rings an hour later, you already know who it is.
You open the door, and there he stands, hoodie, cap, mask pulled down just enough for you to see the exhaustion etched into his face. He looks nothing like the confident man onstage. He looks… wrecked.
“Can we talk?” he asks, voice low.
You should say no. You should protect yourself.
But you step aside.
He enters slowly, like he’s afraid he’ll break something just by breathing. You don’t offer him a seat. You don’t offer him comfort. You just cross your arms and wait. And still, even now, he moves like he expects you to follow him somewhere.
He takes off his cap, runs a hand through his hair, and exhales shakily.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
You blink. “For what? The song? The studio? The rumors? Or the part where you broke me years ago and pretended it was necessary?”
He flinches. “All of it.”
You don’t respond. You want him to keep talking. You want him to bleed the truth.
“I was selfish,” he says. “I was scared. I thought if I let myself love you the way I wanted to, I’d lose everything I’d worked for. So I pushed you away. Cruelly.”
You swallow, throat tight.
“I told myself it was for the best,” he continues. “That you’d be better off without me. That I was protecting you.”
You laugh, a sharp, broken sound. “You weren’t protecting me. You were protecting yourself.”
He nods, eyes shining with something raw. “I know. I know that now.”
Silence stretches between you, heavy and trembling.
He steps closer, not enough to touch, but enough that you can feel his warmth.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he says. “Not once. Not for a day. And when I saw you at the showcase…” His voice cracks. “I realized I still want you. I still—”
“Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t say things you can’t follow through on.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not that person anymore. I’m not the guy who walked away from you in that hallway. I’ve grown. I’ve changed. I’ve learned what I lost.”
You look away because the sincerity in his voice is dangerous. It pulls at the parts of you that still ache for him.
He takes a breath. And then he says the words you never expected to hear.
“If you tell me to leave, I will. For good. I won’t text. I won’t call. I won’t show up again. I’ll disappear from your life completely.”
Your chest tightens painfully.
“But if there’s even a small part of you,” he continues, voice trembling, “that wants to try again… I’ll do whatever it takes. Slowly. Carefully. On your terms.”
You stare at him, this man who once shattered you, now standing in your living room, looking like he’s the one breaking.
You don’t know what to say.
You don’t know what you want.
You only know one thing:
This is the first time he’s ever given you a choice.
And that terrifies you more than anything.
You don’t answer him right away.
You can’t.
Your mind is a storm, memories, wounds, longing, fear, all crashing into each other until you can’t tell where one ends and the next begins.
Namjoon stands in your living room like he’s waiting for a verdict. Like he already knows he might not survive it. Whatever it is, it has you listening again.
“Say something,” he whispers.
You sit down because your legs won’t hold you anymore. He stays standing, as if he doesn’t think he deserves to be on the same level as you.
“You hurt me,” you say quietly.
He nods. “I know.”
“No,” you continue, voice trembling. “You didn’t just hurt me. You broke me. You made me feel small. Replaceable. Like my feelings were an inconvenience.”
His eyes shine, but he doesn’t look away. “I know.”
“You walked away when I needed you most.”
“I know.”
“And now you’re here… asking me to trust you again.”
He swallows hard. “I’m asking you to let me earn it.”
Silence.
You study him, really study him.
The exhaustion.
The regret.
The way he’s holding himself, like he’s afraid to breathe too loudly.
He’s not the boy who hurt you.
But he’s still a man who did.
“Why now?” you ask. “Why after all this time?”
He takes a shaky breath. “Because I finally understand what I lost. And because seeing you again made me realize I don’t want to spend the rest of my life pretending I don’t love you.”
Your heart stutters.
He steps closer and slowly kneels in front of you. Not dramatic. Not romantic. Just honest.
“I’m not asking you to forget,” he says. “I’m not asking you to pretend the past didn’t happen. I’m asking for a chance to do better. To be better. For you.”
You look down at your hands, trembling.
“Namjoon,” you whisper, “I’m scared.”
“I am too,” he admits. “But I’d rather be scared with you than safe without you.”
The words hit you like a punch, not because they’re perfect, but because they’re real. Raw. Unpolished. Nothing like the rehearsed lines he used to give you.
You take a long, unsteady breath.
“I can’t go back to what we were,” you say.
“I don’t want what we were,” he replies. “I want something new. Something healthy. Something we build together.”
You close your eyes.
You think about the hallway where he left you crying.
You think about the years you spent trying to forget him.
You think about the way he looks tonight, broken, remorseful, changed.
And then you think about the truth you’ve been avoiding:
You love him.
You never stopped.
When you open your eyes, he’s watching you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.
The silence stretches between you, heavy with everything unsaid. He's still kneeling before you, your hand in his, and you realize you've been holding your breath.
"Come here," you whisper.
He doesn't hesitate. He rises and sits beside you on the couch. Not touching, giving you space, giving you choice. But his eyes never leave yours, and you can see the want there, banked and respectful but burning nonetheless.
You reach for him. Your hand trembles as you brush his hair back from his forehead, trace the line of his jaw, the familiar territory of his face that you thought you'd never map again.
"I don't know how to do this," you admit. "I don't know how to trust you again."
"Then don't," he says softly. "Not yet. Let me earn it."
He leans in slowly, like he’s giving you time to stop him, and presses a kiss to your cheek. Then your jaw. Then the corner of your mouth. Each touch is a question.
You hesitate. Then turn your head and meet him halfway.
This kiss is different from all the others. Careful. Uncertain. Two people feeling their way through something fragile. His hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, thumb brushing along your jaw, and when you part your lips, it’s not surrender, it’s permission.
"Can I?" he murmurs, pulling back just enough to search your face. "I want to touch you. But only if you're sure."
You swallow, heart racing.
"I'm not sure," you admit.
He stills immediately.
"But I still want this," you add, quieter. "Right now. With you."
Something in his expression softens, relief, restraint, something deeper.
"Okay," he says. "We go at your pace."
He stands, offering his hand instead of pulling you in.
You lead him to the bedroom, your heart hammering against your ribs. This feels monumental yet terrifying. When you reach your room, he closes the door behind you and turns to face you in the moonlight filtering through the curtains.
"You're sure?" he asks, and his voice is rough with restraint. "We can wait. We can go slow. I can just hold you, if that's what you need."
You step closer, your hands finding the hem of his shirt. "I need you to touch me like you used to. Like I'm yours."
"You are," he says, his voice breaking. "You've always been."
He lets you pull his shirt over his head, and then he's doing the same to you, his fingers brushing your skin with such delicacy that you shiver. He unhooks your bra with ease, but his hands shake as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples with worshipful care.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, bending to take one into his mouth. "I've missed this. Missed you."
You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair. When he straightens, he's unbuttoning your jeans, sliding them down your legs along with your underwear, and then he's kneeling again, pressing kisses to your hip bones, your thighs, the sensitive skin of your inner knees.
"Namjoon," you gasp when his mouth finds your center, his tongue tracing you with devastating precision. You grip his hair, your legs trembling, and he holds your hips steady, eating you like he's starving, like he's been waiting years for this taste.
When you come, it's slow and deep, rolling through you in waves that make your toes curl. He rises, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
"I could do that all night," he says, his voice rough. "Just let me make you feel good."
"I want you inside me," you tell him, reaching for his belt. "I want to feel you. All of you."
He helps you undress him, and then he's guiding you back onto the bed, settling between your thighs. He reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom, but you stop him.
"I'm still on the pill." The words hang between you, heavy with meaning. "If you want-"
"I want," he says, his voice thick. "I want everything with you. Always have."
He enters you slowly, inch by inch, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. But you're wet and ready, your body welcoming him home, and when he's fully sheathed inside you, you both exhale shakily.
"Okay?" he asks, his forehead pressed to yours.
"Yes," you whisper. "Move, Joon. Please."
He does, setting a rhythm that's slow and deep, each thrust deliberate, his hands roaming your body like he's relearning every curve, every place that makes you gasp. He kisses you constantly, your mouth, your throat, your shoulders, whispering apologies and promises between breaths.
"I love you," he gasps, his pace faltering as he gets close. "I never stopped. I'm so sorry. I'm going to spend forever making this up to you."
"Just love me," you tell him, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. "That's all I need."
You come together, your orgasms cresting in tandem, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he spills inside you, hot and claiming. He collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms, your bodies tangled.
"I've got you," he whispers against your hair, his hand stroking your back in soothing circles. "I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again."
You believe him. You truly believe him.
And as you drift to sleep in his arms, you know that this, this fragile, terrifying, beautiful thing, is only the beginning because somewhere beneath the gentleness of his touch is that same pull that once led you astray, the knowing promise that if he calls, you’ll follow.
Later, you’ll tell yourself you should have been stronger, should have resisted the way he wraps his voice around your doubts and turns them into devotion, but tonight, with his breath warm against your cheek and his fingers tracing quiet patterns at your spine, you let yourself sink into the spell of him, aware and helpless and willing.
▻ Petals & Ink
↳ Singer&TattooShopOwner!Jimin x TattooApprentice!f.Reader
⤜ Hanahaki Disease, Tattoo Shop AU
⤜ Brother's Best Friend | angst, fluff, eventual smut
⤜ Rating: MA
⤜ WC: ~7,499 (ongoing)
⤜ Summary: You once thought unrequited love was a thing of fiction books and heartache ballads. Now, it’s your reality. He sees you as nothing more than his best friend’s older sister; you see him as your ultimate demise…one bloody petal at a time.
⚠️Crass language, blood, thoughts of death/dying, more to come!
Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.
Chapter 1. Fresh Ink
Chapter 2. Pretty Petals (coming soon)
Story is in progress.
A/N: This is written for the @bangtanwritershq 2nd Quarter Writing Event, The Secret Garden. This story takes place in the same universe as As Fate Would Have It and features recurring characters/plots/themes from that story.
A/N: Thank you to @moonleeai @downbad4yoongi for their unfailing beta services!
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: mentions of the assault, cursing, cigarettes, explicit content: nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), lube, protected sex
☆word count: 9.3k
☆a/n: only two chapters left, I can't believe it's almost over :') thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, November 13th
You lie with your head against Jungkook’s chest, his heartbeat a steady melody in your ear. It’s almost enough to lull you to sleep, but it’s still early, and tonight is the last night you have with him. You’re watching a movie in your hotel room, lying in bed scarcely dressed, yet you can’t focus on the movie.
The clock is ticking, and dread has been slowly taking over you, so thoroughly you barely talked today. Jungkook doesn’t seem to be faring any better than you are, and he’s held you all day as you spent it in bed.
Earlier this week, you went to stay at his house for a while. But it was hard, even though people don’t show up at his door like they used to before. The proximity of the alley made you uneasy, until you found out that they tore down the whole alley to make room for a new condominium complex.
The place your assault took place doesn’t exist anymore. Like the assault never happened anyway, like it happened in an alternate universe, and it’s strangely catatonic. You’d imagined you’d feel cathartic about it, but you just don’t feel… anything. Truth be told, you’ve never really felt anything about the assault in and of itself. It always was like it happened to someone else.
The only thing that lingered for a while was your uneasiness when it came to being with Jungkook, and so you’ve given yourself a week to experience how it feels to be with him. But you haven’t really gone outside, and no rumors sparked about you and him. No one knows that you’re with him, and so the uneasiness feels distant.
Yet, you’re aware it will come back to slap you in the face if you do try to make things work with Jungkook. And maybe that’s why you’ve been dreading tomorrow. Indeed, you’ve been dreading the end that’s been drawing itself for you and Jeon Jungkook, despite the idyllic moments you’ve shared all week.
It makes it so much harder that he’s been everything you’ve always dreamed of in a relationship this week, taking care of you better than anyone ever has. He cooked for you again when you were at his house, he holds you every night as you fall asleep, he lets you talk for hours about your ideas for the fantasy book without interrupting, letting you bounce from one thing to the other like it’s not annoying… He washes your hair, washes your back and most of all, he makes love to you like no one has before.
He’s a dream in the form of a man. And this week, you’ve allowed yourself to believe he’s yours. From this moment on to the end of line. But though you’ve always been a hopeless romantic, one thing your assault did do to you is turn you into someone realistic.
And a relationship with Jungkook is not sustainable. Not with the distance. Not with what happened the last time you were in a relationship with him, even though you never called it what it was. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself all week. Every moment of every day, you’ve just been trying to commit everything to memory. To write it all down in the pages of your mind, to revisit when you’re gone.
When you’re back home, on the other side of the world. Because you can’t risk being with him again. Not when you almost died the first time.
Your heart strains in your chest, and you shut your eyes, nuzzling your face in Jungkook’s neck. He wraps his arm around you tighter, kissing your forehead.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, but it’s weak. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
There’s a long silence, and then he says, “I know.”
You search for words to say, for how to tell him that you’re scared. That you know you’re about to break the two of you again, and you feel horrible for it.
It’s been more than a year. Last Wednesday, you spent the day at Jungkook’s house, remembering how it ended three-hundred-and-sixty-five days ago. And you don’t think you have it in you to risk everything again. Even if that means losing him.
You’re all over the place. Unable to focus on one thing or the other, because you’re terrified, yes, and despite everything, you don’t want to lose him either. It makes it hard for you to figure out what to say, and Jungkook must sense that you’re struggling, because he speaks up in a gentle tone.
“It doesn’t have to end there, you know?” he says. “We could try to make it work.”
You trace a circle on the skin of his chest, trying to focus on him. On this precious moment before the bomb drops, where the world holds its breath hoping destruction won’t come.
But destruction always comes. Everything is meant to be broken, after all.
“I don’t think we should,” you reply.
You think you hear Jungkook’s heartbeat quickening. It starts hammering in your ear, a physiological response to the words you just said.
“Why not?”
“I genuinely do not want to do long distance.”
It’s not just that, but you can’t bring yourself to say the full truth, yet. Like it’ll make it all worse, all so much realer.
Jungkook shifts, his arm falling from around you. But you lay your hand flat on him, trying to keep him from getting away.
“Then what was this week for?” he asks as he stops moving.
It’s bitter. So bitter you can taste it on your tongue.
“I just wanted us to enjoy each other’s company before I leave,” you say. “We never got to spend time like this together.”
“So it has to end?” He chuckles. “I don’t think I’m following you.”
Even if it’s the last thing you want to do, you sit up, meeting his gaze. “Jungkook, you can’t tell me you want to do long distance.”
His eyes shine, unshed tears collecting on his waterline. “I’d do anything for you, Y/n. I don’t care about the distance.”
You close your eyes again as a lump forms in your throat. It’s big enough to choke you up, and breathing gets hard. The air that does get to your lungs burns, and you wish the universe would be kinder to you and Jeon Jungkook.
Haven’t you gone through enough?
“But I do,” you whisper. “I don’t want to do the distance, Jungkook.”
“I’ll move to where you live, then.” He says it with so much determination you allow yourself to believe it for a few seconds.
When those seconds pass, your eyes flutter open, and you meet his gaze once more. There’s a tear on his cheek, but he does nothing to dry it. So you reach forward, wiping it for him.
“You’d give up your whole life here to move to America?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
But from the way more tears escape his eyes, you know he’s also realizing that it’s not possible.
He can’t leave his group and his company. He has responsibilities here in Seoul, and you have responsibilities back home. You could try long distance, that’s for sure, but…
But you don’t have it in you. Not when you know you’d be miserable.
You might be miserable regardless, but at least you had this week to get ready for the rest of your life without him.
“Please, Y/n,” he whispers.
You’re crying too. You wish you weren’t, wish you could be strong tonight but…
But you aren’t. You’re breaking, but you’re breaking together with him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Jungkook, you can’t move out of Seoul, and I can’t move here…”
“But you could,” he says, frowning. He wipes his cheek angrily. “You were here for a long time before.”
“I was on a visa, and I can’t get the same visa again.”
“We can figure it out.”
“I don’t know, Jungkook.”
He pushes his hair back. “Don’t run away from me again, Y/n.” He holds your gaze despite the fact that you’re both crying, and his features are blurry. “Don’t.”
You can’t look away. In truth, it would likely be possible for you to move here. But…
But you’re terrified at the idea of it. Of leaving behind your agent and your family, for good this time. You know you had a life here, a life you put on pause when you went back home and could just resume but…
What if the trauma sneaks up on you while you’re here, though? What if it’s just waiting for you to get comfortable before it comes up to you, ruining the progress you’ve made since last year? More than that, what if his fans get enough of you again when they find out you’re dating once more, and you get killed this time?
Though you don’t remember the assault, and though you mostly feel catatonic about everything surrounding it, fear lingers. Being with Jungkook causes that fear. Or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.
“It’s not about running away, Jungkook,” you gently say. Your heart reaches for his, and you think it finds it. You wrap it in a warm embrace, and you add, “The last time we were together, I almost died. I can’t live with the fear that it might happen again.”
There it is. The truth. The one where you stop pretending that it’s about the distance. Because in the end, you know the distance doesn’t really matter. You know you and Jungkook would figure it out. But the fear… you’re not quite sure you can live with it. Not when it could trigger the trauma.
So the truth drops like a bomb on the bed between you and Jungkook, and you wait for the shockwave to destroy everything on its passage. You wait and wait… But it never comes. No. There’s a calm silence instead, and Jungkook melts, pulling you to his chest. He holds you tight, presses a kiss on the top of your head.
“I understand,” he says softly as he rocks you from side to side ever so gently. “But…” he trails off, and you hear him gulp. “People don’t come anymore,” he whispers. “And I could also move into an apartment in a safer building. Then you wouldn’t have to be scared.”
You imagine it. You imagine building a home with him here, and it’s so beautiful you cry even harder.
“But the danger will always be there,” you point out as tears keep pouring out of your eyes. “Whenever I step outside, I’d be in danger.”
“I’ll protect you,” he promises. “Always.”
You chuckle, but it’s sorrowful, broken. “I know you would.”
He stops rocking you from side to side, instead rubbing your back soothingly as he holds you even closer. You hide your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. “I could get you a dog,” he suggests after a few moments of silence. “A Doberman or something. To help you feel safer.”
“I’ve always wanted to have a dog,” you admit, and your crying recedes, replaced by curiosity at this utopia he’s building for you and him.
“Then you’d get a dog.” His arms tighten around you, and he leans his chin on top of your head. “We’d move to a safer place, and I’d beat up whoever approaches you.”
“That sounds excessive,” you say with another chuckle, but it’s not quite as sad this time. “What if it’s a friend?”
“Well, I won’t beat up Jennie or Hyunseok,” he replies. “But I bet they’ll also help make you feel safe.”
“I know they would.”
He pulls back, just enough to glance down at your face. “Let’s try, Y/n. Let’s please give it a try.”
You suddenly become exhausted, looking into his beautiful eyes. There’s so much hope in his gaze and all you can feel is exhaustion. Like the tears that were running down your cheeks a second ago drained all of your energy, replacing it with deep fatigue.
You don’t have any fight left in you. In truth, you didn’t really have any to begin with. You’d imagined Jungkook would just accept your decision – you don’t know why you didn’t consider the fact that he’d fight for you.
But it makes sense. After everything, it makes sense that Jeon Jungkook would fight for you. It fills your heart with peace, lessening the fear, and you sigh deeply.
“I don’t know,” you let out as you’re still just holding his gaze.
You genuinely don’t. You’ve spent the week trying to gather the courage to tell him you didn’t want to try, and seeing that hope in his eyes takes away the limited amount of strength you’d gathered.
“You don’t have to give me an answer now,” he reassures you with a soft smile. “You still have to go home tomorrow after all. But please think about it.”
That you can do. Because, even if you tell him no right now, even if you tell him you don’t want to try, you know your mind will come back to this conversation for the rest of your life. Haunting you with the what if you said yes? What if you gave it a try and it worked? What if the fear stayed at bay, and you managed to finally be with Jungkook, for real this time?
You reckon, after everything you’ve been through, you’d deserve it. You’d deserve a happy ending, but you’re too tired to make a decision right now.
You need some time.
“Okay,” you let out. “I’ll think about it.” He nods, and tears roll on his cheeks again. You dry them for him, your hands lingering on his face before they fall in the space between you again. “But I genuinely don’t know, Jungkook. I don’t know if I want to move here.”
“That’s okay.” He pulls you closer until you’re resting your head against his chest once more. “It’s a lot to ask for sure. I just want you to think about it.”
“I will,” you whisper. “I promise I will.”
You don’t know how long you hug each other like this. You only know the movie you’ve never paid attention to comes to an end on the TV, the credits rolling as you’re still holding each other, and you do feel at peace with this moment.
With the fact that you’re not ending things right now. Maybe it’s just pushing it back to a later time, but you can’t bring yourself to care about it right now.
Not when you have less than twenty four hours before you’re going home. So when you do eventually pull away from the hug to find that Jungkook’s cheeks have dried on their own, his tears disappeared, you glance at his mouth.
It doesn’t take you much longer than a heartbeat before you’re leaning in, pressing your lips on his. And Jungkook kisses you back desperately, one hand going to the back of your head and the other grabbing your jaw.
You scared him. You realize you scared the shit out of him as he kisses you like he’s never kissed you before. Like he’s trying to make every swipe of his lips count, in case it’s the last time he gets to kiss you.
And then he’s kissing down your neck, pausing at your perked nipples on your chest. He worships every inch of skin between your breasts to your pussy, leaving little love bites on the way down. He diverges to your scars, kisses each of them once, and then he keeps on heading down, until he’s breathing a warm breath on your clit after he’s pushed your panties to the side.
It doesn’t take long before your legs are on his shoulders, and your hand is lost in his hair, pulling at the strands as he pushes his tongue into you. You moan, and you grind your hips on his face. He groans against you, and he makes out with you, pulling endless pleasure from you.
He’s good at this. Has always been good at this, and you reckon he’s been made for you.
Jeon Jungkook has to have been made for you.
Then why is the universe so cruel to the two of you?
Jungkook only allows himself to bury his dick in you when you’ve already come twice. And he only does so after having put a condom on, spurting a blob of lube on his dick, too. He’s found out over the week of fucking with condoms on that you get uncomfortable with them, and so he’s been insisting on using an indecent amount of lube.
It works. He’s been able to make you come with just his dick this week, and you really doubt anyone is ever going to make you feel like this again.
Jungkook fucks you slow, his shining gaze never looking away from yours. You get lost in his eyes, much like he gets lost in yours, and you try to ignore the occasional painful beating of your heart in your chest when you consider that you’re almost gone.
Your eyes flutter close when he kisses you then, so languid and deep that you forget you’re leaving at all. And when you open your eyes again, you look at each other with three little words written in your gaze.
You want to tell him. But at the same time, what if you can’t do it in the end? What if you put the weight of those three little words on his shoulders without ever giving yourself to him in the end?
You can’t do that to him. Even after he comes and you just lie in each other’s arms, those three words a loud cry in your head, you still don’t say it. You hold the words back, and so does he. You wonder, is he too haunted by them?
He must be. He has to be. His eyes truly hold the weight of them after all.
You’re at peace. You’re scared, but you’re also at peace. And though you’re not sure yet what decision you’ll make in the end, you can say that it was all worth it. That spending this week with him was worth everything.
He’ll be the one, or the one that got away. And you really are at peace with it.
Thursday, November 19th
You stare at the words on the screen of your laptop. At the first sentence of this book you’ve finally decided to write, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
Unlike Atlas, you’ve been allowed to put the world down, and you close your eyes, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips.
It’ll all work in the end, won’t it?
Your mother knocks on the doorframe of the office, startling you. Your eyes shoot open, and you look at her as she stands there.
“You need to stop coming downstairs without telling me first,” you tease.
She leans against the doorframe, folding her arms on her chest. “You live in my house, so get used to it.”
You glare at her, but you don’t really mean it. She must see it in your eyes, because she pushes off the doorframe, walking in. She takes a look at your laptop, and a grin splits her face open.
“You’re writing!”
You chuckle. “Yeah, but I was just interrupted.”
She wraps her arms around you, leaning her chin on the top of her head.
“In a land far, far away eons ago, a young princess jumped off a bridge into the sparkling water of a swirling river,” your mother reads out loud. “You did make her a princess in the end?”
“For now,” you reply. “I feel like it was the best option.”
It was also Jungkook’s pick amongst all of your ideas.
Your mother nods. “I’m so excited about this.” She shakes you from side to side. “It’s going to be a phenomenon.”
“You say that about all of my books,” you say, laughing lightly.
“And I’m right about it, too!”
You shake your head, but you can’t help the way you’re smiling.
Your parents’ support has always meant the world to you, after all.
“Dad will love this, too,” your mother adds. “You know he’s a sucker for fantasy.”
“He said he won’t read fantasy anymore because he’s waiting for the rest of Game of Thrones to be released,” you remind her.
“We both know that book is never coming.” She lets go of you, leaning against the desk instead to look at you. “And he reads all of your books. I know he’ll make an exception for you.”
You know he will. In fact, you have no doubt that he will, because your father is like that. He’ll probably talk about it to everyone at the golf range too, and you already know you’ll have to sign books for all of his friends.
He gets more excited about your books than you do, and you love it.
“Hope it doesn’t disappoint, then,” you joke.
Your mother glares down at you. “Your books never disappoint. You know that.”
“Yes, yes.”
She seems unconvinced that you’re being genuine, but she lets it go, instead saying, “Are you having dinner with me tonight? Dad will be out with your uncle, so it’s just me.”
“I will,” you reply. “What time do you want me to come up?”
She glances at the time on your laptop. “In two hours?”
You nod. “Alright. I’ll come up. But let me focus now. I really want to write something for Stella today.”
Your mother claps her hands excitedly. “She will be over the moon.”
She will. She has been slowly pestering you about writing again lately, though you know it’s all in good fun.
You wave your mother goodbye as she starts to walk away, and she looks at you over your shoulder. “Good luck with writing. I’ll see you later.”
“See you later, mom.”
In truth, you find you didn’t need any luck. Indeed, it seems that brainstorming with Jungkook last week really worked, because you pound out nearly five thousand words before you have to go up for dinner, setting up the wartorn city.
Hence why the princess had to jump in the water, after all. Indeed, the neighbouring kingdom has invaded, and they killed her father, taking over the throne. Her mother helped her escape, not wanting her daughter to be forced to marry the new king.
It’s a rough draft. You know you’ll have to rework everything to make it work, but you’re excited to be writing again.
You’ve truly healed. More than you realized you had.
You find your mother in the kitchen as she finishes making a sauce to go along with the steak she cooked. She tells you to set the table, and you do so quickly, before helping her with bringing the food over.
“So, how did it go?” your mother asks as you start eating,
Her steak is devilish, and you take a moment to appreciate the taste before you swallow. “It went really well,” you tell her. “I’ll write some more after dinner, and send it all to Stella before bed.”
“That’s amazing.” Your mother takes a sip of water, and then adds, “It must feel good to be writing again.”
You nod. “It does. I thought it would be scary, but it isn’t at all.”
“It’s because you love it,” your mother points out. “You’ve always shone the brightest when you’re writing.”
“Thank you?” you say like a question, unsure if it’s a compliment.
“It’s true!” your mother insists. “I still have the stories you wrote by hand while you were in middle school somewhere. They were the start of a passion.”
“Gosh, I do not ever want to see those,” you admit before taking a bite of the pasta she made along with the steak. The flavours melt on your tongue, and you widen your gaze. “This shit is so good,” you tell your mother once you’ve swallowed.
“It’s a recipe your dad has been bothering me about for a while,” she says. “It got on my nerves, so I made it today because I know he won’t have some.”
“Mom,” you let out before bursting out laughing. “That’s petty.”
“He deserves it.”
You snort, and then the conversation moves to your cousin Chelsea, who just found out she’s pregnant with twins. After that, you talk about everything and nothing, staying at the table for a while even when you’ve finished eating. You’re sipping your glass of water when your mother almost makes you choke as she asks, “Have you made a decision about Jungkook?”
You put the glass down, coughing. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, we’re having dinner, and it’s just us two, so you will talk about it.”
You stare at her, cocking an eyebrow. She doesn’t back down though, and you end up sighing deeply, glancing down at your empty plate. “I still don’t know, honestly.”
“How come?”
You shrug. “It’s just… scary. I don’t know if I want to move away from you and dad.”
“You know we’re thinking about selling the house to move to a condo instead,” your mother points out, and a wave of nostalgic sadness flows through you.
They’ve mentioned it a couple of times. You have a tendency to brush it off, mostly because you don’t want to think that soon, your childhood house will become another family’s to make memories in, but you know it’s coming.
“So you’re going to have to move anyway,” she continues.
“I know.” You sigh again, and then you meet her gaze. “Aren’t you afraid that he’s dangerous for me, though?”
She frowns. “Why would I be? He loves you.”
Your mother is not shy to tell you Jungkook loves you every occasion she gets. It never gets easier to hear.
“Because I almost got killed because he’s famous,” you reply.
Your mother just holds your gaze for a little while. It seems like she’s analyzing you, and your intuition is confirmed when she says, “He was with you every day while you were in the coma last year,” she reminds you. “He brushed your hair and cleaned your face every day. He talked to you, sang to you, and held your hand while we were sitting next to you. I have not for a single moment doubted that he believes you are the love of his life.”
“But what if I get hurt again?” you whisper in a small voice.
“You might get hurt walking down the stairs of the house,” your mother replies. “You might get hurt while driving your car. If you wanted to avoid everything that puts you at risk, you would never leave your bed. Yet you still do.”
“I can’t believe you’re not more scared than that.”
She purses her lips, tilting her head to the side. “Oh, honey. I am terrified. But I’m not going to be selfish and lock you in a room just because I don’t want you to get hurt again. You deserve to experience life to its fullest, especially when it was almost taken from you. And I know Jungkook. He would do everything in his power to keep you safe.”
You know he would. He’s made it clear before you left.
“I don’t know,” you let out, and you cower away from her gaze, looking down at the table again. “I know that realistically, there’s not a lot of chances of it happening again anyway. I wouldn’t put myself at risk like that again. But…”
“Before you continue,” your mother interrupts. “Take back what you just said.”
You frown. “Huh?”
“You never put yourself at risk,” your mother says. “You didn’t know that that was going to happen. You couldn’t have known. And you were in a city with a safe reputation. Don’t blame yourself for what happened.”
You find your gaze growing wet all of a sudden. “Mom…”
“I’m serious,” she insists. “You know I don’t like when you make it sound like it was your fault, because it never was.”
“I’m sorry.”
She reaches towards you, grabbing your hand. “Don’t be sorry,” she gently says. “Just don’t make it seem like you had anything to do with what happened, because you didn’t.”
You blink the tears away, nodding once. “Okay. Yes.”
She smiles at you, and then says, “So, you were saying there isn’t a lot of chances of it happening again?”
You nod. “Yeah. Mostly because I’d be more careful, but also because I know Jungkook would never allow it to happen. He said he’d get me a guard dog, mom.”
“I’m pretty sure he’d get you a lot more than a dog if you just let him.”
You know she’s right, and your heart beats just a little faster in your chest at the thought.
“But I’m scared.”
“Honey.” She squeezes your hand. “Was it scary to start writing again?”
It was. She knows it was, and you already see where she is going with this. But you decide to let her finish her thought, mostly because you reckon you need to hear it.
“Yes, it was,” you answer.
“And how did it go?” she asks.
“It went well.”
She nods, smiling. “And why do you think that is?”
“Because it’s my passion,” you reply. “Because I love writing. Writing is what makes sense to me.”
“Don’t you think he makes sense to you, too?”
You take a deep breath. “He does. But it’s a lot scarier to be with him than to write, mom.”
“Love doesn’t come without risk, ever,” she says. “I think you need to stop letting the fear stop you. You did it with writing, and it went well.”
“I’m not going to be killed by writing a book, though,” you point out. “That’s like the least risky shit I could do.”
“Fair,” she concedes. “But you’re not going to avoid being in a relationship for the rest of your days because you’re scared either. You deserve to love and be loved.”
“It wouldn’t be scary with someone else, though.”
“But would you love them?” she asks, and hell, you think you wouldn’t. Your heart has belonged to Jungkook for far too long for it to ever belong to someone else. “I doubt you would.”
“So you think I should do it? I should risk it all to be with him?”
“Yes,” she says without a doubt. “He is so in love with you. Love like that only comes once in a lifetime. You don’t want to lose it.”
You really don’t. You’ve never wanted to lose it, but you’ve also always believed that, even if you weren’t together, Jungkook would still love you. So you wouldn’t lose the love in the end, even if you never shared it. But then again…
You look at the kitchen of your childhood house. You take it all in – the memories of happy family dinners, of your parents dancing in the kitchen when they thought no one was looking. Of your parents kissing and you and your brothers pretending to throw up because you were too young to understand what love was. You think about when they celebrated their thirtieth wedding anniversary two years ago. You think about the love you were fortunate to grow up witnessing…
Your parents are soulmates. You’ve never doubted it, not for a second. They’re the reason why you became a hopeless romantic. You’ve always believed you’d find your person too, like they found each other.
And it occurs to you that you’ve found your person a while ago, in the basement of a fancy club in Gangnam. You’ve found your person in a starry gaze and a sleeve of tattoos. You’ve found your person in the scariest time of your life, too.
Because he was there for you through it all. He stuck with you, through thick and thin, through sickness and health, through life and death. But you pushed him away, because you’re terrified.
You’re terrified, yes, but you also love him. More than you even thought it was possible to love someone. And your mother is right – you would never be able to love someone again. And you doubt you want to live a life of celibacy, even though you think there is some sort of peace to such a life.
There is much more peace in the arms of the man that you love. In his sweet smiles and gentle kisses.
In the way he chose you, over everyone else.
“Should I just say fuck it and go back to him, then?”
Your mother laughs. “Yes. You should say fuck it–” she winces at the curse word – “and tell him you love him and that he’s worth the risk. He needs to hear it.”
He does. You reckon he does, and you need to tell him, too. To finally accept that, though it might be the scariest thing you’ll ever do, it’s also going to be the thing making you the most happy in the end.
At the end of the line, when you’ll look back on the life you’ll have had the chance to live with him, you doubt it will matter that you were scared. And even if something does happen, at least you will have given you and him a try, and you’ll go without regrets.
“I need to talk to him,” you declare.
Your mother nods. “Do it.”
Friday, November 20th
Jungkook is sitting on the bench in his home gym, watching Jennie and Taehyung at the squat rack. Though he isn’t really paying attention to them – he’s been lost in thoughts of you since last week, anxious at the fact that you haven’t reached out since you went home.
He’s giving you space, though. You asked for it, and he said he’d give you time and space to think. And even though you’ve only been gone since last Saturday, it’s been getting harder and harder to live with your silence.
He’d rather you just pull the band-aid off right away if you don’t want to give it a try. Because the wait is tiring, and he hasn’t been able to focus on anything since you left.
“Did you want to do some squats too?” Jennie asks.
Jungkook raises his head, only then noticing that she’s walked over to him. Taehyung is at the mini fridge, and he comes back with water for himself and Jennie.
“Nah, I’m all good,” Jungkook replies.
Jennie slightly frowns, looking at him like she wants to say something. Jungkook waits for it, but it never comes. Instead, she drinks from her bottle, and then says, “Well, we’ll do some cardio now.”
Jungkook nods, and they walk over to the treadmill and elliptical machine he got recently. Jennie takes the treadmill, Taehyung choosing the elliptical, and Jungkook looks away, pulling at his piercings.
He stays for about a minute more before feeling the need for air, and he goes upstairs, to his inner yard. He hasn’t really smoked cigarettes in a hot minute, but this week, he’s fallen back into old habits.
The smoke in his lungs helps with the stress. More than it should, and he smokes a full cigarette, shivering in the cold day – today has been uncharacteristically cold – before going back downstairs, though he avoids the gym and heads to the studio instead.
He sits in front of the monitor, moving the mouse around so that it turns on. It’s still on the last thing he was doing, and Jungkook closes the article, opening the software in which he produces his songs.
The article was about Sara. About how she beat cancer and is back to modelling now, and though he’s happy for her, they haven’t talked in a year, and he has no intention of talking to her even now. Especially not now, when he’s just waiting for you to come back to him.
If you ever do.
The software finishes booting up, and he clicks on the last song he’s been working on, titled ‘Before You Go’ for now. He isn’t sure if he’ll end up naming it something else when he’s done with it, but he feels like the ‘Before You Go’ part at the beginning of the chorus sticks out the most, and so he gave it the title.
The song starts playing. It’s just the guitar track right now, as he’s yet to figure out how to record the lyrics. He glances behind, trying to see past the open door of the studio to the gym to see if Jennie and Taehyung are done working out. He obviously can’t see shit, and so he gets up, walks over to the door and manages to spy them still on the treadmill and elliptical.
So Jungkook shuts the door, walks back to the computer to press play on the record button for the mic, and he grabs the paper with the lyrics before walking into the recording room. He pulls out earbuds from his gym shorts, putting them on quickly, and then he settles in front of the mic.
He takes a deep, steadying breath, and then he presses play on the guitar track on his phone, and he starts singing.
He didn’t really need the paper with the lyrics. At first, he refers to it every few seconds, but as the song progresses and he hits the first chorus, his eyes flutter shut and he lets himself sing. And he sings with the emotions in his chest, with the fear that you might never come back to him. It’ll make for a sad song. Though he reckons the lyrics of this song are the most heartbreaking of this album, so it makes sense.
Nightmare was hard to record because of the trauma that it refers to. But Before You Go… it’s a cry for you. And he hopes you can hear it, from where you are on the other side of the world.
He finishes singing, surprising himself that he did it in one go, and he turns the music off on his phone, opening his eyes to see Jennie staring at him from the other side of the window. It startles him, and he curses loudly into the mic, which only makes her burst out laughing.
He walks out of the recording room, pressing pause on the mic. He’ll have to cut the audio to make it fit with the guitar track, but Jennie is sitting in the chair in front of his computer, so it’ll have to wait.
“That was a pretty song,” she says as he’s putting his earbuds back in the case. “But it’s really fucking sad.”
“Well, they say to sing about what you feel, so…”
Jennie’s features turn apologetic, and Jungkook looks away, unable to stand the pity in her gaze.
“She hasn’t reached out yet?” she asks.
Jungkook shakes his head no. “I’m thinking about texting her on Sunday if she doesn’t text me first.”
“I don’t think you should.”
Jungkook expected Jennie to say that, but it still sucks to hear.
“In truth, I think you should prove to her how serious you are about making things work with her,” Jennie adds.
Curiosity piqued, Jungkook meets his friend’s gaze. “What do you mean?”
“Y/n is a romantic,” Jennie explains. “Her books are all about romance, and she clearly wants something like that for herself, you know?”
Jungkook nods, but remains silent, not quite sure as to where Jennie is headed with this,
“In her three romance books, the guy character always does a big gesture to win back his love interest,” Jennie adds. “I think she would fall for a big gesture.”
“The big gesture was to take her to Lotte Tower two weeks ago,” Jungkook points out.
Jennie furrows her brows. “But that was… not even a date, in Y/n’s words.” She must see that it hurt Jungkook, because she adds, “Sorry.”
“No, I know.” Jungkook sighs, shutting his eyes for a few seconds. “She’s made that clear already. But I don’t know what I can do that is more than that.”
“Well, use your big guy brain and figure something she would like!” Jennie says, and Jungkook’s confused at hearing the annoyance in her voice. But it fades quickly as she continues, “You know her, Jungkook. What would she like?”
He frowns. “She asked for space. I’m not going to go and fuck that up.”
“Right.” Jennie pouts. “She’s been ghosting me too, you know? It’s starting to piss me off.”
Ah. So that is why Jennie’s annoyed. And though Jennie usually has good advice, Jungkook highly doubts that you want a big gesture right now. You needed time to think, and a big gesture would likely just make you feel pressured into making a decision.
He doesn’t want to pressure you at all. Especially not when he might get a lifetime with you after. What’s a few weeks of waiting compared to a full lifetime in your company?
Indeed, if you tell him you want to give it a try, Jungkook is never going to let you go. Even if you get tired of him, he’ll stay by your side. Until he draws his last breath.
“It sucks,” Jungkook agrees with Jennie. “But I asked her to make a big decision. It makes sense that it’s taking her some time.”
Taehyung appears in the doorframe, and Jungkook and Jennie look at him. “What are you guys doing?”
“Talking about Y/n,” Jennie replies in Jungkook’s stead.
“Ah, I should have expected that,” Taehyung replies. He walks in, plopping down on the couch. “What’s up with her?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook says. “She hasn’t reached out yet.”
“She hasn’t talked to me either,” Jennie points out. “I’m worried.”
“You both need to give her some time,” Taehyung says, and he takes a long sip from the water bottle in his hand. “She just needs to think. Although… she did ghost you last year.”
Jungkook’s heart sinks in his chest at the reminder.
“Thanks, Tae, that was so needed right now,” Jennie deadpans.
Taehyung shrugs. “I genuinely think she’ll text you when she’s ready, though. She had her reasons to ghost last year, but she doesn’t have any now.”
“Except that I literally asked her to move here,” Jungkook points out, and he cringes internally.
You guys aren’t even dating and he said you should move here. No wonder you haven’t been reaching out.
“Is that really what you said?” Jennie asks.
“Well…” Jungkook trails off. “It was more of a suggestion because she said she didn’t want to do long distance.”
“Oh,” Jennie lets out. “Right.”
“But honestly, she’s just scared,” Jungkook adds. “With everything that happened last year, she’s afraid she might get–” He takes a sharp inhale of breath, finding himself unable to finish the sentence. “But I know we can figure out a thousand ways to keep her safe.”
“You could probably get Mr Lee to bodyguard for her,” Taehyung suggests. “I think he’s getting tired of the whole group thing.”
Mr Lee has been their bodyguard since they first debuted. But he’s been getting older, so Jungkook reckons he might indeed be starting to feel the need to slow down. And working private like that, for just one person, might just be what he needs.
“I told her I’d get her a dog,” Jungkook admits. “I even found a breeder that seems very legit.”
Indeed, during the long hours he spends every night looking at the ceiling as he waits for you to reach out, Jungkook found a breeder that breeds Dobermans. She seems like a genuinely good person, and he’s already let her know that he’d be interested in buying a dog.
Because if you tell him you don’t want to give you both a chance, Jungkook knows he’ll need a companion around to keep him from going insane like he did last year.
“That’s adorable,” Jennie lets out. “Woah, Tae, can we get a dog too?”
Taehyung snorts. “I’ll think about it.”
Right when Jungkook is about to say he can let them know who the breeder is, his phone dings. He’s muted everything on his phone except his conversation with you, and his hands immediately grow clammy at the knowledge that you’ve reached out.
Finally. The wait is over.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket, and the sight of your name on the screen almost brings him to tears.
“It’s her,” he whispers.
Jennie’s gaze widens as her eyes shoot to him. “What did she say?”
“She asked if she can call.”
Jennie springs up, grabbing Taehyung’s hand and pulling him up, too. “We’ll give you some space. But you tell me what she says the second you hang up.”
Jungkook nods, and he watches his friends go, thankful that Taehyung took the time to shut the door behind them. And then Jungkook stares at his phone again, before sitting in the chair Jennie just vacated.
[2:08 pm] Jungkook: yes, ofc you can call
Your reply comes all of ten seconds later.
[2:09 pm] You: are you available right now?
Instead of waiting, because his heart literally cannot take this anymore, Jungkook presses on the phone icon at the top of his chat with you, and it starts ringing a few seconds later.
You pick up on the third ring, like you might have needed some time to collect yourself.
“Hey,” you let out.
Jungkook wants to cry at hearing your voice. Hell, his eyes fill with tears, and he shuts them, trying to picture you on the other side of the line.
On the other side of the world, too.
“Hey,” he lets out, his voice small and scared.
What if this is the last time he’ll ever talk to you?
“You’re not busy?” you ask.
Not for you, no.
“Nah, I’m just at home,” he replies.
You hum, and he hears you sigh. His heart starts shattering already, and he wishes he wouldn’t have to hear you say you’re over.
He can’t hear those words from your lips again.
“I’ve started writing the book,” you tell him.
He smiles, even though his heart is bleeding out. “I knew you would.”
“Well, I didn’t really have a choice.” You chuckle. “Your album is almost ready, and we had a deal.”
Indeed, back in Okinawa, you made a deal that he’d release his album if you wrote your book. And he knows now that the album will see the light of day.
No matter the outcome of this conversation with you.
“You made her the princess, yeah?” Jungkook asks.
He kept telling you you should last week.
“I did.” He smiles victoriously, though he doesn’t quite feel the joy that he should at you going with his suggestion. “It made the most sense.”
“I told you,” Jungkook lets out.
You chuckle again, and then there’s a long silence. It’s painful, stretching into an eternity he hates, and he taps his foot on the floor, his leg bouncing up and down as he waits for you to speak up.
“What have you been to this week?” you ask, clearly avoiding the subject.
Jungkook opens his eyes, looking at the monitor. “Just been working on the album and working out, honestly.”
“Right.” There’s another stretch of silence, and then Jungkook hears you take a deep breath. He prepares for impact, readying himself for the way you’re about to rip his heart out of his chest. “I miss you, Jungkook.”
Your voice is small and weak, scared, and it is definitely not what he was expecting to hear. Yet he starts crying all the same, and he leans his head back against the chair.
“I miss you too,” he replies softly.
“I’m scared, you know?”
“I know. I’m scared, too,” he admits.
“Why are you scared?” you ask, and you sound genuinely confused.
He thinks it’s a stupid question, but then again you’re not in his head.
How can you know if he doesn’t tell you?
“I’m scared that you’ll realize you and I aren’t worth it,” he admits, and fresh tears roll on his cheeks. “I’m scared that I’ll have to learn how to live a lifetime without you by my side. Because I don’t think my feelings for you can ever fade. And it’s terrifying.”
“You would heal,” you reply softly. “You’re one of the strongest persons I know.”
“Y/n…” He chuckles bitterly. “The nightmare started again this week. I am not as strong as you think I am.”
“But you are,” you insist. “Because after everything, you’re still here. You’re still talking to me, you’re still willing to put your heart in my hands. It takes the highest level of courage to put your heart into the hands of someone that’s hurt you in the past.”
“It takes courage, or stupidity?” he asks.
“Courage,” you reply. “Because you’re you. You’re unabashedly you, no matter the odds that life throws your way. I need to be more like you.”
That makes him laugh, somehow, and he slightly shakes his head. “I think you’re a lot better than I’ll ever be.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” he says. “Because you got out stronger from what happened to you. You never let it affect you, never let it tear you down. I spent so long running away from everything instead of facing it while you faced it head on from the first day.”
He reckons that’s why you healed when he got stuck in a cycle of toxic coping mechanisms. Because you weren’t afraid to face the dirty truth.
He was always just trying to escape from it.
“Maybe it took you longer to get there, but you did get there too, Jungkook,” you gently say. “The album is proof of that.”
“Is it?”
“It is. It’s proof that behind all the pain, there’s a beautiful soul.”
He doesn’t know if it’s a compliment, so he says, “You think I have a beautiful soul.”
“Oh yeah,” you say with more conviction than he expected. “I think you have the most beautiful soul. Because despite everything, like I said before, you’re still your authentic self. And there’s nothing more beautiful than that.”
“I’m a mess, Y/n,” he reminds you. “Don’t gas me up like this.”
“You’re bad at receiving compliments, aren’t you?”
It’s said in a teasing tone, but he’s so scared you’re about to end everything that he’s not able to laugh. “I guess.”
You sense his unease. He can almost hear the frown in your voice when you say, “I guess that what I’m trying to say is I really like the person that you are, but I don’t think I made it sound like that.” You clear your throat, and then you say, “I think you’re amazing, Jungkook. And I think you’re strong because you’re not afraid of the things that could happen if we were to give us a chance. You follow your heart unapologetically, and you’re not afraid to make it known to the world. And I admire that about you.”
“Y/n…”
“Wait,” you add, and he can tell you’re crying now. Your voice is wavery, shaking at the edges, and he wishes he could hold you and wipe your tears for you.
He knows you would wipe his, too.
“I admire a lot about you,” you continue. “Your work ethic, the way you live life to its fullest, your energy when it comes to the things you love. But also, the way you can find solutions in the darkest of places, even though you don’t realize that you do.”
He doesn’t deserve that last compliment. Not when he spent months self-destructing after you, but you’re speaking too fast for him to say it so.
“I think you’re beautiful in and out, and I honestly don’t know what you see in me that makes you want to be with me, but I think I want to find out. If you’ll have me.”
…
What?
“You’re not ending things?” he asks, sounding just as shocked as he feels.
“No,” you reply softly. “I’m done running away from the one I love.”
Love…
You love him?
“Y/n, I wasn’t expecting this.”
He thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe. But it’s okay.
Everything is okay in the end, after all.
There’s a silence, and then you say, “Well, if you’ve changed your mind, I understand it too. And I won’t be mad at you.”
Jungkook laughs. He laughs, because you’re not ending things. You’re not ending things at all. As a matter of fact, you want to give you both a chance. One he doesn’t think he’ll ever deserve, but he’ll do his best to live up to the expectations every day.
He owes you as much.
“I’m going to book a flight to come see you, okay?” he says with a shaky voice. “I need to see you.”
“So…” you trail off. “Does that mean you still want to give us a chance?”
“Y/n,” he scolds gently. “Of course, I do. I am so completely in love with you, I’m never going to let you go again.”
You laugh, and he thinks you’re sobbing at the same time. He needs to hold you close. Needs to feel your body against him, like a confirmation that this is all real.
That he really does get to be with you in the end.
“I love you too,” you whisper. “I’ve loved you for a very long time.”
Jungkook is crying too. Yet this time it’s tears of joy, cascading down his cheeks like a testament that he finally did it. He made it through the hardest time of his life and came out of it on the right side. On the one where he gets to be with you.
Fuck. He could scream it from the rooftops. The world needs to know that you’re going to give you a chance. That you and him is a thing that will exist in more than just his wildest hopes and dreams.
You love him, for fuck’s sake.
“I’m coming to you,” Jungkook says, and he immediately starts looking for flights on his computer.
He finds one that leaves at 6:00 pm. It’s a direct flight, which means he should get to you by the end of the day tomorrow your time. He buys the ticket, not even waiting for you to say anything.
He thinks you’re too busy crying happy tears to actually reply anyway.
“I’ll be there tomorrow night,” he tells you once he gets the confirmation number.
He has to run to the airport right away.
“Jungkook…”
“Yes?”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
He smiles, grinning wide. “I can’t wait to see you either.”
There’s a world of fireworks and butterflies and softness and warmth in his chest. He’s never felt so many beautiful feelings at the same time, and it’s a little overwhelming. But it’s oh so healing, too.
He really made it through, didn’t he?
“I’m sorry I put you through so much shit,” you whisper a few seconds later.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassures you. And it really is. He’d do it all over again, knowing that it leads to you in the end. “You don’t ever have to apologize for it, okay?”
“Okay,” you let out, and you laugh softly.
He echoes it, his heart filling with so much more warmth and love he thinks the sun has bloomed behind his ribcage.
You love him. And he loves you.
Holy shit.
There has never been more beauty in this world than at this exact instant in time.
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i love them so much and i would go to war for them. hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!! only one more left :') let me know what you thought of this one here!
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I recently passed 1000 followers on Tumblr, I'm so shocked that anyone wants to read the fics that I put out especially seeing as I'm unable to post regularly. I appreciate every. Single. One of you. Thank you so much for reading, liking, commenting, re logging, I see you all and can't thank you enough.
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☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: swearing, mentions of the assault, alcohol, explicit content: jerking off, protected sex, praise
☆word count: 15k (another long one oop)
☆a/n: a sweet new chapter bc we need it <3 thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Tuesday, November 4th
Seoul is sunny today. Yet it’s colder than you’d expected it to be, and you pull at the lapels of your coat, folding your arms on your chest as you seek warmth. But the sun is shining, the vast blue sky void of any clouds, and it’s much better than back home.
It snowed yesterday at your parents’ house. It didn’t stick around for long, but your mother sent you a picture telling you that you left at just the right time. You reckon you have – you’re not mentally ready for it to be winter yet. Not when you feel like summer was just a few seconds ago. Especially with the trip to Okinawa.
You haven’t been able to stop thinking about Okinawa. About how you collided with Jeon Jungkook once more, inevitably so. You haven’t spoken since then, but he’s been on your mind constantly for the last month, and for the first time since last year, it’s been a good thing.
The thought of him hasn’t been hurting quite as much anymore. Perhaps because you planned to see each other during your two weeks here in Seoul. You’re excited about it – it’s like you’ve found some innocence in the thought of him again, and it’s healed a part of you that was refusing to heal over time.
Maybe you just needed more time. Maybe one day, you would have truly forgotten Jeon Jungkook. But somehow, thinking that you don’t have to forget him just yet, if ever…
It’s brought peace to your every moment. Because even though you haven’t talked, there’s peace in the thought of him. In the way the memory of his lips on yours the night of Taehyung and Jennie’s engagement party keeps invading your thoughts whenever you least expect it.
Your mother asked you the reason why your smiles have become so easy, so frequent, and you told her about Jungkook. Her eyes were shining brightly when you did, and the only thing she said was, “I told you so.”
You haven’t spoken about it with her again, and she hasn’t pushed either. But you know she really hopes your trip here helps you to reconnect with him. You heard her tell your father a few days before you left, when they were cooking together not knowing that you had come up from downstairs.
A gush of wind startles you, a piece of paper flying right into your chest. It flies away before you can get a hold of it, and you look behind yourself to see it catching on a pole behind you.
You’re headed to the coffeeshop the producer sent you, where you’ll meet and talk about what happened. You don’t really know what she expects you to tell her, considering you don’t remember much of it, but she insisted on meeting in person, so here you are today.
Back where you were a year ago, before everything went to shit. And though maybe it should make you feel anxious, the sun above pushes the dark thoughts away before they can truly surface.
It helps that Jennie will be there. Indeed, she’s worked with that producer before, and so she suggested being there with you during the interview to make sure you’re okay.
You haven’t seen her since the week in Okinawa, and you’re excited to ask her about her and Taehyung’s plans for the wedding. It seems they aren’t planning to elope in the end, like Jungkook said they would, though Jennie mentioned wanting to wait for the weather to be warm outside again before they get married.
You reach the coffeeshop, a cute, aesthetic ancestral building not too far from the hanok village in Insadong. You’ve been here before with Hyunseok, at the beginning of your friendship with him, and you’re excited to be here again.
The food is amazing, and so is the coffee.
There’s a line when you get there, and you take your phone out of the tote bag on your shoulder to text Jennie to ask if she’s already here. She texts you to just walk in, that they’ve given your name to the girl at the door, and so you do so, finding the girl in question. She lets you in, and you head to the inside part of the building on the other side of the inner court. You take off your shoes before getting in, and you find Jennie and the producer, Shin Jaebom, at the very back of the coffee shop sitting on little cushions on the floor on each side of a round table, both of them with food on trays.
Jennie grins as she catches sight of you, and she gets up to give you a hug. You’re well aware of the gaze of the people around you, but you ignore it as best as you can, especially considering this place is relatively touristic.
You tell yourself none of these people actually know what happened and why you’re here today, and it eases the anxiety that was threatening to churn in your gut.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Jennie says as she hugs you tight.
You pull away, meeting her gaze. “So happy to see you too.”
Jaebom got up while you were hugging, and you shake her hand with a polite bow of your head as she says, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” you return.
And then the three of you sit down around the small round table, and Jennie pushes your food towards you – you sent her your order and she got everything for you already. You take a shy bite of the strawberry dessert, and you close your eyes as the sweet taste fills your mouth.
“It’s even better than I remember it,” you tell her, and she chuckles.
“You should have seen me eat mine before you got here,” she says. “I will come back here for sure.”
“Told you!”
Jaebom has just been watching the exchange, and you meet her gaze, offering her a small smile.
“You look even better in person than in pictures,” she says, and you feel your cheeks burning furiously from the unexpected compliment. “You’re right, Jennie, she would look amazing on screen.”
You glance at Jennie. “On screen?”
“We were just saying that, if you weren’t a writer, you definitely could have made it as an actress,” she explains.
You wince, tilting your head to the side. “I cannot act for the life of myself, unfortunately.”
Jaebom chuckles, and she takes a sip of her iced americano. “I’m sure you could learn if you wanted to.”
But you don’t. You think being in front of the cameras like Jennie is would make you panic. It’d throw you out in the public eye even more than you already are and, with your baggage, you’d likely get a heart attack from it.
“Maybe,” you let out, not wanting to be rude and tell the director you doubt it.
She doesn’t sense your unease, especially not as she says, “But we’re not here to discuss that, are we?” You and Jennie both nod, and she adds, “I’m actually glad you’re here too, Jennie. I think your insight is going to be helpful in constructing this series.”
And then Jaebom starts explaining the idea behind the series she’s been working on. It’s a story about a female idol who’s been in the public eye since she was very young. She’s loved by everyone, but she has a stalker that progressively becomes bolder and bolder, until he eventually attacks a man she goes on a date with. The series is meant to delve into thriller vibes, and to show the darkest part of what being an idol is like. She’s interviewing you for your take on what it’s like to date someone in the public eye when you aren’t part of it, and she doesn’t mention your assault as much as you thought she would.
“Dating someone in the public eye is not for the faint of heart,” you tell her. “It got stressful at times, and it really limits the kind of things you can do with your partner.”
Indeed, back then, you and Jungkook never went on dates. You’d always just hang out at his house, and sometimes at your apartment.
“Mmh,” she lets out pensively. And then you feel the shift in the air. You know she’ll ask what truly happened last year, and you steel yourself as you hold her gaze. “Jennie mentioned you don’t remember much about the assault, but what was it like to wake up and be told that it happened?”
Your heart aches, and Jennie grabs your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. You interlace your fingers, and you reply, “It was scary. At times, I wanted to believe it was all a lie, but I could see how the people around me acted after. Especially my family. They came all the way here to be with me at the hospital, and it made me feel like I was dying.” You wet your lips, glancing at Jennie quickly before resuming your attention on Jaebom. “Which I know I almost did, but it still feels unreal to think about it a year later. Especially when the memories never came back.”
Jaebom makes a non-committal sound. “So it’s just like… a void when you try to think about it?”
You nod. “Yeah, there’s just nothing there.”
“That could be a good take for an episode…” she trails off, looking down at her coffee, which is just ice now. “The viewers being left in the dark along with the character…”
And you can imagine it, too. Just a blank scene, with maybe only the sound of sirens in the distance. The story being told backwards, with the first real scene being at the hospital… You think that could do great. You say so, and Jaebom agrees with you, taking notes in a little notepad.
“I’m surprised you’re so open about it all,” she says some time later, when you’re concluding the interview. “You are extremely strong.”
You offer her a tight-lipped smile. “I wouldn’t have made it here without the people supporting me.” You glance at Jennie, and she smiles softly. “What got me through it all are the friends I made. And the help from my family, obviously.”
“It’s admirable,” Jaebom says. “And Jennie?”
Jennie meets her gaze. “Yes?”
“Want to play the role of the idol?”
She looks at you. “I would love to.”
*****
Jungkook knows you’re in town. Jennie told him, but you still haven’t reached out, and it’s been stressing him out.
What if you changed your mind since last month? What if you don’t want to see him anymore?
He’s been asking himself that question all afternoon as he works on his album, and he eventually gives up on it. He can’t focus, the thought of you way too loud to let him think about other things, and though usually it’s a good thing with this album, today it makes it too hard.
Instead, he decides to work out, to lose himself in the repetitive motions of his regular back, shoulders and triceps day. It still doesn’t get you off his mind, so he runs on the treadmill for a while, hoping that might help.
Nothing does. It’s been like this for a few days, even before you actually landed in Seoul. It’s like he can sense your proximity, and he’s constantly on edge, expecting to see you wherever he goes.
You’re driving him insane. Though he reckons he went insane over you a long time ago. Part of him went insane that first night he touched you, right here in this gym…
“Fuck,” he curses loudly, and he stops the treadmill.
It slows to a halt, and he breathes in and out, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He hears it in his ears, and it seems louder than even his drumset is whenever he plays.
But he’s horny. Can’t help it, not when all he can remember is the way you came all over his hand that night, before leaving in a hurry.
To think he was going to fall in love with you after that…
His heart strains, and he takes a deep breath, stepping off the treadmill to head to the mini fridge. He grabs a water bottle from it, chugging half of it in a few long sips, and then he leans against the wall, looking at the spot by the door where the events took place.
You’re everywhere in this house. Even though you haven’t been here in almost a year, you’re everywhere.
He still sees you in his bed, your hair like a crown around your head on the pillow. He still sees you in the shower, your skin glistening with water drops. Still sees you sitting at the kitchen island, watching him cook.
Still sees you as you ran out that night, only to never come back. He remembers the good and the bad, but the bad doesn’t kill him like it used to. Okinawa really healed something in him.
He still had the nightmare a few times since then. But he woke up, drank water and was able to fall back asleep after. It helps that he started therapy for good, and finally managing to talk to someone about everything without the fear of being judged has been freeing in its own way, too.
He’s been doing better. Hasn’t hooked up with anyone since before Okinawa either. He’s just been focusing on the album, on working out and on spending time with his friends. He even spent a weekend down south in Busan with his family, and his mother was so happy to see him she kept crying randomly.
It was adorable. But then again, it also hurts to think that the reason why she tends to get emotional when it comes to him now is because Jennie reached out last December, when he was at the bottom of the barrel, and it’s been haunting his mother.
But she was smiling when he left. A wide grin he recognized from whenever she was proud of him as a kid, and he thinks she’s been healing from it all, too.
He pushes off the wall, clutching the water bottle, and he grabs his phone where he left it on the treadmill. There’s still no message from you, and he tells himself it’s okay, that you’re busy, but it doesn’t stop his heart from sinking in his chest. He heads upstairs to take a shower, and then he busies himself with cooking dinner.
His phone is on the counter, face up, and it turns on with an incoming text. His hands are dirty with egg yolk, as he was too lazy to use a spoon to separate the yolk from the white, and he groans as he jumps to the sink, rinsing his fingers as fast as he can. He made a mess on the floor, but he ignores it, grabbing his phone with wet hands.
Only to see he’s received an ad on Kakao from a store he went to ages ago. It pisses him off so much he almost throws his phone across the room, but then he reminds himself that he needs it in case you text him.
If you ever do.
Later that night, long after Jungkook has eaten dinner and cleaned the kitchen behind himself, he lies on the couch, watching a drama his mother told him about while he was in Busan. He finally manages to get you off his mind as he’s invested in the story, and he binge watches three episodes without checking his phone.
He’s yawning, debating going to bed or checking another episode, when he grabs his phone from where he abandoned it on the coffee table earlier. And his heart literally drops out of his chest and onto the floor at the message that sits in his notifications.
[9:34 pm] unknown number: hey, it’s y/n
[9:35 pm] unknown number: how have you been
It’s hours later, and Jungkook thinks you’re likely asleep by now. He still replies right away after having saved your phone number under your contact, hoping you’re not asleep yet.
[11:56 pm] Jungkook: hey! i was waiting for your message
[11:57 pm] Jungkook: i’ve been good. just busy recording the album
[11:57 pm] Jungkook: you?
You don’t reply right away, but Jungkook can’t stop smiling as he stares at his phone, and at the message you sent him. It’s a new conversation thread, and it feels like more. It feels like the beginning of something new, and he reckons it is.
This is the beginning of a new story, with you. Or at least he hopes it is. At least he hopes you haven’t been able to forget Okinawa either.
When he’s brushing his teeth after having finally watched another episode, Jungkook’s phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. He grabs it, heartbeat quickening, to see your name on the screen for the first time since last year.
[1:37 am] You: sorry, i was asleep
[1:38 am] You: i’ve been good too. i was stressed about today’s interview, but it went well
Jungkook frowns as he looks down at his phone, wondering what interview you’re talking about. Jennie was evasive when she mentioned you were hanging out today.
He finishes brushing his teeth quickly, spitting the toothpaste in the sink and rinsing his toothbrush thoroughly before leaving it in the glass by the tap. He heads to his room, lying back on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as he replies to you.
[1:42 am] Jungkook: the interview?
It doesn’t take you long to reply, as if you were just waiting on the conversation for him to say something.
[1:43 am] You: shin jaebom is making a show about the dark aspects of being famous, and she wanted an interview
[1:44 am] You: for research for a character that will get hurt on the show in similar circumstances that i did
[1:45 am] You: that’s why i’m in seoul
Jungkook can’t help the disappointment that takes over his chest. For some reason, he’d stupidly wished you had decided to move back here, but he reckons it wouldn’t make sense for you to.
Your whole life is back in America, after all.
[1:46 am] Jungkook: oh, i didn’t know
[1:46 am] Jungkook: it must have not been easy to talk about everything
He sees the three dots appearing and disappearing a few times, and he just watches, stress flooding his bloodstream slowly. But then a text comes in, and he reckons he’s lighter than a feather flowing down from the ceiling.
[1:49 am] You: can i call?
He’s smiling. He’s smiling wide when he replies that yes, of course you can call.
It takes a few seconds before the call comes in, and he’s a little disappointed that it’s just a regular call, and not a Facetime one. But then again, he’s getting to hear your voice, and it’s so much more than what he thought he was getting tonight.
He’s more excited than a schoolboy with a crush, and it’d be embarrassing if it wasn’t you. But it’s you. It’s you, and there’s nothing more natural than getting to talk to you again as if no time has passed.
“Hey,” he greets you as he takes the call and places his phone against his ear, staring up at the ceiling.
“Hey,” you say back. There’s a short silence, and then you say, “Sorry I didn’t text you before.”
He rolls on his stomach, looking at the calluses in his free hand. “Don’t apologize. You were busy with your interview.”
You stay silent for a time, and he wishes he could reach through the phone and hold your hand. It’s visceral, and he feels it in his entire body, like he might die if he doesn’t get to touch you. But then you’re talking again, and the feeling passes.
“Yeah so,” you let out, and he hears you yawn. “Shit, my bad. So, it wasn’t actually as hard as I thought it would be.”
“No?”
“No. I’ve healed a lot,” you say. “Like I told you in Okinawa, I didn’t develop PTSD or anything, and I’ve been good at dealing with the anxiety. I think…” you trail off, and he waits patiently for you to finish your thought. “I think I was kind of using this as a test to make sure I’ve truly moved on, you know?”
He hums. “Yeah, I get that. Did you pass the test?”
There’s a few seconds of silence, and he imagines you laying on your back, looking at the ceiling much like he was earlier. Are you at the hotel, or are you staying with a friend?
“I did,” you say with quiet conviction. “It’s been a year, but it feels like so much longer.”
True. It’ll be a year next week. But it does feel like so much more for him too. Maybe because touring felt like it lasted forever, and he’s felt… changed since he returned from Okinawa. Like he’s a completely new person.
It’s all thanks to you.
“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, and it takes so long for you to reply he questions if the phone picked up his voice at all.
But then you say, “Thank you, Jungkook,” with the smallest voice ever, and he just really wants to hold you for a time.
To hold you and let an eternity pass before he lets go. If he ever does.
“Of course,” he gently murmurs.
He swears he can hear you smiling when you talk next. “So you’ve been working on the album?”
He nods even though you can’t see him. “I have. I have a few more songs I’ll show you when I see you.”
“I can’t wait.”
Fuck. he’s got butterflies and the whole thing. It’s scary, so fucking scary, but at the same time, he hasn’t felt this carefree in so long, and he’s not going to let his stress damper it.
Like he discussed with his therapist, he wants to try and make it work with you. His therapist mentioned it’d be a good idea to have a conversation with you to make sure it’s something you want, too, but he doesn’t know how to ask.
He’ll figure it out when you’re in front of him.
“When did you want to hang out, by the way?” he asks then, and he wonders if you can hear how loud and fast his heart is now beating.
“I have things planned up until Friday, but I’m free Friday evening,” you reply. “Are you?”
He made sure to keep his full schedule free this month so that he wouldn’t miss you when you’re available. So he says, “Yes, of course.”
“Good.”
“Good,” he echoes, and you chuckle, and he really is a schoolboy with a crush.
Despite everything that happened, he still feels the same.
“Where are you staying?” he asks after a few seconds of silence.
“I got a hotel not too far from Jennie and Tae’s place,” you answer. “It’s a tiny room, but it’s right next to a subway station.”
“You’ve been taking the subway?”
You chuckle. “No choice. I can’t afford to get a driver like you guys do.”
Jungkook frowns. “Didn’t you make good money with your book?”
“I did,” you say, and you sigh. “But I don’t know, I haven’t written anything in so long and I’m a little worried I’ll run out of money.”
“You won’t,” Jungkook reassures you. “I’m making the album, you have no choice but to write.”
“I was hoping you didn’t remember that,” you grumble, and he can’t help his laugh.
“Of course, I do.”
Of course. He remembers everything when it comes to you. The good and the bad.
“Well,” you let out. “I guess I’ll have to write that fantasy book, then.”
“You sure do.” He smiles, and then rolls on his back. “Did you think about it more?”
“I did, actually,” you admit. “I’ve started making character sheets.”
“Oh? Hit me with them.”
“No.”
He frowns. “What do you mean, no? I want to know!”
You laugh. “Let me figure it all out first. I don’t want to give you half of an idea, you know?”
“Fair.” He pouts, looking up at the ceiling. The conversation ends there, and he tries to figure out what to say next, settling on a truth that fills his entire body with warmth. “I’m excited to see you Friday.”
“Me too,” you reply softly.
“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he admits. “Maybe I shouldn’t say it, but I really have.”
“I have been thinking about you a lot too,” you reveal. “So don’t feel bad about it.”
He’s grinning to the ceiling when he says, “Good.”
“Good,” you echo, and you both laugh again.
This is easy. So fucking easy. And Jungkook wonders, why did the universe try to pull you away from each other?
Why did you need to go through all of this pain?
And maybe, maybe it wouldn’t have worked out without the pain. Hell, maybe he’s getting too excited. Maybe it won’t even work out now either. But he’s so hopeful, so fucking hopeful, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for the first time in a year, and he’s not going to let it go.
Not for now. He’ll try, and if you push him away again, then he will have tried. He won’t have to live with the regret and the what-ifs that would surely haunt him if he didn’t try with you this time around.
Yes, you might not even want to try. Yes, he might just see you Friday and never see you again. But there’s light and hope tonight.
There’s been light and hope since Okinawa, in all truth.
“What do you want to do on Friday?” Jungkook asks.
He hears you yawn, and he waits for a few seconds before you reply, “I honestly don’t know.” You let out a small laugh, and then you say, “I realized today that we’ve never gone on an actual date.”
“You want me to take you out on a date?” he asks, and he feels stupid the second the question is out.
“Well, I don’t know if I’d call this a date but… yes?”
His heart does a weird thing in his chest. It hurts and fills with joy at the same time. Maybe because you’re not sure if you want to call it a date, but you still want to see him.
Surely it has to mean something, right?
“I can plan something,” he tells you. “I can pick you up at the hotel around 7 pm?”
“That works for me,” you reply. “Just let me know what I should wear.”
“Dress pretty,” he immediately says. “Not that you usually don’t. You always do. But if it’s a date…”
“I’m not saying it’s a date.” You laugh, and then you add, “But alright, I’ll dress pretty.”
He doesn’t like that you’re insisting it’s not a date. It puts a damper on the light at the end of the tunnel, but he still heads towards it, because it’s the only thing he knows to do.
You’ve been at the end of every road for him for a while now.
“And don’t eat before,” he adds.
“I won’t,” you say, and you yawn again. “Shit, I’ll have to go back to bed soon. The jetlag is killing me.”
“I won’t keep you up any longer, then,” Jungkook says. “Please rest up.”
“I will. I’m hanging out with Hyunseok tomorrow, then seeing Jennie and Mingyu on Thursday… but I’ll rest up.”
Jungkook frowns. He didn’t even know that Mingyu took a day off from the army, but then again you and Mingyu have always been good friends, and Mingyu hasn’t seen you in a year. It makes sense that he wants to see you while you’re here.
They hung out last month, right before Okinawa. And Mingyu was glowing, the perfect picture of a man in love. So Jungkook doesn’t feel threatened about you and him hanging out. Not like he did last year.
“I hope you’ll sleep well,” Jungkook gently says.
“I will.” You sigh, adding, “Can’t wait to see you.”
“Can’t wait to see you either.”
He’s smiling like a kid on a Christmas morning.
“Good night, Y/n.”
“Good night,” you echo.
He falls asleep with that same smile on his lips that night, his mind swirling with thoughts of you. And he doesn’t visit the alley of his nightmare for once. No. Instead, he dreams of the sun and the sea, of pretty eyes that sparkle as they look at him and of a smile he’s come to know more than his own.
It’s a beautiful dream that almost rivals the fact that he’ll see you soon.
Almost.
Thursday, November 5th
The restaurant Mingyu chose is one you’ve been to before, at the very beginning of your friendship with Jennie and him. It’s coincidentally one of his favourite restaurants, and so you and Jennie didn’t have it in you to ask to go somewhere else when he’s been stuck in the army for nearly a year now.
You get there early. You didn’t mean to, as you were initially supposed to get here with Jennie, but she got stuck in a shooting for longer than expected, and so you get to the restaurant alone, finding Mingyu sitting at the table by himself.
You ended up never replying to the message he sent you last year, when you were in the hospital. You’ve reread it on the way here, and your heart has been sitting uncomfortably in your chest, beating just out of its usual rhythm.
[1:11 am, November 26th] Mingyu (flexing emoji): hey y/n. it was great to see you today, even though we couldn’t really talk. as i was sitting there next to you, i realized i’ve been repressing a lot of feelings when it comes to you, as i was trying to be respectful of you and jungkook’s relationship. but now that i’m leaving for the next year and a half, i can’t help but regret not being honest to myself and to you before. i’m not expecting this message to change anything, and i honestly don’t think i want it to. i’m very happy with us being just friends, even though i sometimes think about what could have been if i told you i liked you before you and jk got closer. but i only understood after seeing you guys together, and by then it was too late.
[1:20 am] Mingyu (flexing emoji): i’m not the type to do relationships. i’m not the type to really ever fall in love. but there’s something about you… ever since i first saw you at the club in gangnam. before we even talked, you were sitting at the bar with jennie and i just remember thinking damn. i thought it was just physical attraction, but over the months i realized it was more. you’re an amazing person. beautiful inside out, and it really was easy to develop feelings for you even though i knew it was never going to be reciprocated. and you’ve made me realize that maybe, maybe i do want a relationship. not with you, ofc, but i want to love someone, and i wanna be loved back. i have a lot of work to do on myself before i get there but… yeah.
[1:28 am] Mingyu (flexing emoji): anyways, i know this will be a lot to read when you just woke up a few days ago, and i’m not expecting you to reply. i just won’t have my phone for a while starting tomorrow, and i just wanted to get this off my chest. i love you, y/n, as a little more than a friend, but as a friend first and foremost, and i will be praying for your healing. please take care of yourself, and be kind to yourself over the next few months. i’ll see you again when i’m out of the military
And now, Mingyu is sitting at the table, raising his head as he sees you walking towards him, and you do wonder… What would have happened all those months ago if he’d told you how he felt before you could get closer to Jungkook?
You can almost see it… You would have had fun, you’re sure of it. A relationship that feels more like a friendship than a relationship in the end. You doubt it would have lasted – you’re too much of a sucker for romance, and eventually you would have felt like being with him was lacking something.
You likely would have ended up breaking his heart in the end, which you reckon he did not deserve. So it’s a good thing that you didn’t play out like that, that you and he remained in friendship territory.
“Y/n,” he says as he gets up from the table with a wide grin on display. He hugs you for half a heartbeat, and then you sit down next to each other, mostly facing the empty restaurant. “Wow, you look amazing.”
You smile, your eyes darting to the muscles on his arms. “Look at yourself. You look like you could split a log open with your hands.”
He makes a show of flexing his arms, and gosh, they are huge. “Being in the army has its advantages.”
“Visibly.”
You take off your jacket, getting up to shove it in the barrel you’re sitting on along with your purse. Mingyu laughs as you do so, and then he motions at your own arms.
“Have you also joined the army or something?”
You chuckle. “I am now a five days a week-at-the-gym type of girl.”
“Love that.” He smiles, falling silent for a few seconds. “You really look good, Y/n. I’m proud of you.”
A lump forms in your throat, silver gathering on your waterline. You don’t try to push the emotions away, content just sitting with them for a moment. Mingyu gives you the grace of waiting for you to collect yourself, and when you do, you chuckle, punching him in the shoulder.
“Don’t make me cry, weirdo,” you say.
“Yah! I didn’t say anything!” he lets out, pouting. “I’m just happy to see you.”
“I’m happy to see you too,” you reply, meaning it.
“What have you been up to?”
A waitress comes at that moment, and Mingyu tells her you’re waiting for someone else. You watch her leave, and then you reply, “Honestly, mostly just the gym and reading. Spending time with my family. Nothing too crazy.”
“Sometimes, that’s just what you need.” He takes a sip of a glass of water, and then he pours you one. “I’d tell you what I’ve been up to, but it really is just boring army shit.”
“Is it that boring?” you ask.
He winces. “More than you think. Most of the time we don’t have much more to do than train. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Yeah, I bet.” You drink some water. “But you’re more than halfway done, aren’t you?”
“It’s nearly been a year,” he says with a nod. “I get out in the first week of June.”
“See, you’re almost there!”
You try to be encouraging, but the serious, annoyed look he gives you makes you burst out laughing.
“Listen, at least you don’t have to do the longer service that Min Yoongi had to do,” you point out.
“I mean, yeah, for sure.” He chuckles, glancing at the empty restaurant before resuming his attention on you. “But at least he got to stay home most of the time. I cannot sleep for the life of me in that dormitory.”
“Too much snoring?”
He nods, eyes going up towards the ceiling. “You can’t even imagine it. It’s like there’s a train in there every night.” You scrunch up your nose in disgust, and you’re about to talk, though he adds, “Actually, you can understand. They snore like Jungkook does.”
In truth, you’ve always found Jungkook’s snoring to be calming. Most of the time, when you would share a bed, it would be like a weird, soothing track to your dreams.
“That he does,” you still say.
Mingyu gauges your reaction for a time, and then says, “He mentioned you’re hanging out tomorrow.”
Your throat dries out, your heart stops for a few seconds, and you drink a sip of water, putting the stainless steel glass down slowly. “Yeah, we are.”
“How do you feel about that?”
Mingyu seems genuinely interested in your answer, and you reckon maybe time really has come and gone to a point where he doesn’t feel uncomfortable with the idea of you and Jungkook.
“I’m stressed, honestly,” you reply. You worry at some dry skin on your bottom lip for a moment. “I can’t tell if it’s good or bad stress yet. But I’m excited to see him.”
“I’d say it’s good, then,” Mingyu reassures you.
“I hope so.”
“He’s been going nuts about it,” Mingyu tells you conspirationally. “It’s kind of funny.”
You gulp. “He’s told you about it?”
“Yeah. He asked for date suggestions in the group chat.”
It’s cute. It’s cute, and your heart quickens in your chest at hearing it. “Date suggestions, mmh?”
“Well, he said hang outs suggestions,” Mingyu precises. “But we all know it’s a date.”
You don’t say anything to that, losing your gaze in the water in your glass. Mingyu seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans forward, trying to meet your gaze.
“Do you not want it to be a date?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” you admit. “It’s been a year. And yes, we had fun in Okinawa, but… I don’t know if we still have that spark, you know?”
Which is a full blatant lie. You know you still do, and you’ve seen it in his eyes in Okinawa, heard it in his voice the other day on the phone. You know it’s still there, but you just don’t know if you can date him again.
The baggage between the two of you just seems infinitely heavy. And you don’t know if you’d be able to carry it in a relationship. Especially not in a long distance relationship.
“Well, I hope tomorrow helps you figure it out,” Mingyu gently says after a stretch of awkward silence. “Jungkook really cares about you a lot.”
“I care about him too.”
And you do. You really fucking do.
“I know.” There’s another silence, and Mingyu sighs, glancing at the door. Like he’s hoping that Jennie will arrive soon, but she’s still nowhere to be seen.
She told you she’d likely be forty minutes late, so you still have a long time to go.
“By the way, I did want to talk to you about something,” Mingyu says.
You know exactly what he means, so you reply, “You’re right. We should talk about it. And–” he was about to talk, and he shuts his mouth as he waits for you to continue. “I want to apologize for never replying to your message. I didn’t know what to say, and then it was too long after and it felt like it was worse to say something then.”
“Honestly…” he trails off, his eyebrows moving closer on his forehead, a crease appearing between them. “I was glad you never replied,” he admits. “I said that when I was deep in my feelings, and I did need to say it all, but it was the worst time to tell you any of it. So for that I apologize.”
You give him a gentle nod. “I understand why you said it then, though. And I was never upset with you for telling me how you felt. I’m glad you did.”
“If it can reassure you, I’ve long since figured that what I felt for you was platonic,” he admits. “There was always a little maybe, but it never was more than that. And it hasn’t been more than that for a really long time now.”
“I’m glad,” you tell him, and your lips stretch into a small smile that he echoes immediately.
“In truth, I actually met someone,” he says, and the way his cheeks dust with pink is a work of art.
You’ve never seen Kim Mingyu flustered before.
“What?” you let out. “Who? How? You’re in the army.”
“She’s a nurse on the base where I’m doing my service,” Mingyu explains after laughing at your questions. “We actually know each other from high school.”
“No way.”
“Yeah.” He looks away, and he laughs again, the perfect picture of a man in love. “We dated in high school. We broke up when I debuted in the group I initially was a part of.”
“What!”
“Stop saying that,” he grumbles, but it’s all in good fun, like the smile on his lips tells you. “Yeah, we did. And it’s hilarious, ‘cause I cut myself–” he motions at a scar on his forearm – “and she did the stitches, and the whole time I was like, ‘holy fuck, it’s Im Daeun’.” He smiles to himself. “She was pissed. But we spent one of my days off together in September and now… now she’s my girlfriend.”
You don’t know how the friends you have in common never thought to supply that information to you. You feel like they should have, but then again, you were so busy catching up about other stuff that the conversation never turned to Mingyu.
And maybe a part of you was avoiding that conversation, afraid that they’d tell you Mingyu was upset with you.
“Only you would actually start dating during your military service,” you say, shaking your head slightly, though your lips are still curved upwards. “I’m impressed.”
“Why did Seungcheol say the same thing?” Mingyu asks, frowning cutely, his lips jutting out in a small pout.
“Because you’ve literally never dated before,” you point out, snorting as he just shoots daggers at you.
“Well, I dated Daeun before.”
“Right, right,” you let out. “Because you had one girlfriend in high school and never dated again.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.” You laugh together, and he sighs deeply after, his eyes shining from within. “Maybe part of me was just waiting for her this whole time.”
“Stop, that’s so cheesy” you tease him. “Where’s the fuckboy I used to know?”
“He retired,” Mingyu jokes. “And honestly, it’s all thanks to you. And Daeun, but I don’t think I would have been able to seriously date her if it wasn’t for the things you made me realize.”
You fall more serious, though the smile lingers on your lips. “Well then, I’m glad it helped. I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.” He grins his lopsided grin, and then adds, “She’s amazing, I hope I can introduce you both one day.”
“We’ll find time,” you promise. “Just get out of the military, and then we can plan a trip or something.”
“With Jungkook,” Mingyu says, and he smirks as you choke on your saliva, winking at you when you glare at him.
“You’re annoying.”
“Hey, I’m just hoping you guys work your shit out!” He opens his arms as if to prove his innocence. “I’m a romantic, now.”
You keep the glare on, but you do see the romantic in him. It shows in the way he talks about his girlfriend. It makes his eyes sparkle in a way you’ve never seen before, and you’re happy for him.
Happier considering the message he sent you last year. Because this whole time, you were feeling guilty. Thinking he probably was sad and grieving what could have been, but instead, he was building something with someone new. Or someone he used to know, that became new again.
There’s love in everything Mingyu does and says today, and it’s a beautiful sight to see. Even when Jennie gets there later, and you ask her why she didn’t tell you. He admits he wanted to tell you himself, and Jennie tells him he’s stupid for waiting so long. It’s fun, the easy friendship the three of you have always shared not having changed at all despite the year apart, and you find yourself smiling wide as you’re returning to the hotel while the sun is slowly lowering in the sky, kissing the horizon when you finally reach your destination.
You’re excited for tomorrow. You see it with newfound hope after the conversation you had with your friends and for a moment, you allow yourself to hope. You allow yourself to hope and dream, and it makes you far happier than you’ve been in a while.
Because, what is wrong with hoping you might get it right this time?
Friday, November 6th
Jungkook is so nervous he’s been constantly wiping his clammy hands on his pants, and he reckons he needs to stop before he leaves a wet spot on the fabric.
Thankfully, his pants are dark, so it doesn’t show, but he’s so nervous he wonders if it’s actually a good idea to see you. His heart feels like it’ll explode, his blood pressure likely through the roof, and it makes it hard to breathe.
He’s driving towards your hotel. You’ve agreed to meet in the underground parking to avoid paparazzi and the likes, which was your idea, and he’s so nervous he purposely drives past the entrance of the parking twice before actually turning into it.
As if that’ll lower his anxiety. It does nothing at all, and he wonders if he’ll have a heart attack upon seeing you.
He’s too much of a weak man when it comes to you.
He’s drumming his fingers on the wheel to the beat of an imaginary song – the playlist he put on when he left his house drove him crazy as he got closer to your hotel, so he turned it off a while ago. He’s waiting not too far from the elevator, and he swears he might die from all the anxiety.
What a way to go, though. To die because he’s nervous to see you.
But then you step out of the elevator corridor, and his heart slows down in his chest, settling to a rhythm he’s grown familiar with whenever you’re around. You smile at his car, and he realizes he’s an idiot for not stepping out, so he rushes to get out of the car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he got for you on the way.
Your smile brightens as he steps out, and you brush a strand of hair behind your ear. You look so pretty, like a goddess in this underground parking, and Jungkook feels emotional. His chest fills with warmth, with the sum of his longing and yearning for you, and the feelings are so earnest, so potent he forgets how to breathe for a time.
“Jungkook,” you say as you stop in front of him.
Not hello. Not hey. No, you say his name, and he almost drops to his knees at the sound of it.
“Hey,” he replies, and then he smiles, adding your name.
You look at the flowers, chuckling. He hands the bouquet to you, and you take it, smile widening. “These are going to die, you know that right?”
“Well, I thought they looked pretty, and they reminded me of you. So…”
“Wish I had a vase for them,” you whisper, and he watches as you breathe in the scent of the flowers.
“We can probably get one,” Jungkook suggests, wishing he’d thought of it before.
“I’m leaving in a week,” you point out. “No need.”
The reminder that you are not here to stay is like a cold shower, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, nodding once. “Right.”
You’re still smiling when you meet his gaze. “Should we go?”
“Yes.” He walks around the car, opening the door for you to get in. You laugh, standing there for a time, and then you follow him.
“Didn’t realize you were such a gentleman,” you tease.
Is he doing too much?
He chuckles, scratching the back of his neck. “Just trying to make you smile,” he says, shrugging his shoulders with a sheepish look on his face.
You don’t say anything to that, but you are still smiling, your eyes shining from within, and you’re genuinely so beautiful he wonders if he’s dreaming.
Once you get in the car, Jungkook shuts the door behind you, before walking around to get back in the driver’s seat. He then puts the address of your destination in the GPS, and you laugh as you read it.
“You’re taking me to Lotte tower?”
He pulls at his piercings. “I booked us a restaurant at the top. It’s a great view at night.”
“Oh, right.” You shake your head, chuckling again. “I’m dumb. Didn’t even think of that.”
He just smiles, not knowing what to say, and then he’s driving away, getting out of the underground parking to head to the restaurant. It’s already dark out, so you won’t get to see the sunset together, but you seem to enjoy the view either way, looking out the window as you cruise along the streets of Seoul, heading to your destination.
Jungkook puts music back on as he drives, and you nod your head along to the beat, seemingly far more relaxed than Jungkook feels. Because part of him can hardly believe that you’re right here, in his car. With him, in Seoul, for the first time in a year.
You got assaulted almost a year ago. He’s been dreading the one year mark, but you’ll still be here when it comes to pass, and if he plays his cards right, he reckons you might be together on that day.
It’s next Wednesday after all.
“It’s a lovely night,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“It is,” he agrees. “We’re lucky it’s not freezing.”
“It might during the night, though,” you say. “That’s why I made sure to grab a coat.”
Indeed, you’re wearing an elegant jacket with a thick wool layer on the inside. It looks comfortable, almost like a large blanket, and Jungkook thinks he should have thought about a jacket, too.
But you’re not really going to be outside at all tonight. Unless you want to go for a walk after, but he has a feeling walks at night might not be your forte after what happened.
“Smart choice.”
This idle chatter is… unusual for the two of you. Though it reminds Jungkook of how awkward he was with you at the very beginning. How he never knew what to say, and always ended up saying the wrong thing somehow. And he reckons it might be a good thing for you to be back on those grounds.
You’d been able to build your way up from there, after all. Maybe you can do it again today.
“So, do I get to hear the songs?” you ask, taking him by surprise.
“Right now?”
You nod, and he glances at you quickly before looking at the road again. “Yeah, why not?”
“Huh…” Jungkook lets out, and he grabs his phone, opening it with face id. He then goes to the files app, and he hands you his phone. “They’re labeled as demos,” he explains. “Just choose whichever you want to hear first.”
“There’s one called Okinawa Beach,” you muse, and the song that was playing on the radio stops, replaced by the first chords of the song.
It’s a somber song. A song of longing for a love that seems to slip through your fingers no matter how hard you try to hold onto it. It’s born of how he felt in Okinawa that night when you walked on the beach, before you said you wanted to see him again while you’d be in Seoul. He’d felt like you were sand in the palm of his hand, and the melody for the song came naturally, elusive guitar chords mixed in with the sound of waves recreating the ambiance of that night.
His voice comes on, and he feels embarrassed for a time, much like he always does the first time he shows a new song to someone. But it’s you, and you were there that night, and he can see by the way your eyes glow more and more every time he glances at you that you, too, remember how it felt to walk on the beach.
The song comes to an end, or at least the singing does, and you listen to the waves and the guitar as he keeps on driving. It’s peaceful, a piece of that night in Okinawa blooming in the car along with you, and you lean your head against the headrest, glancing at him.
“I think this one is my favourite so far,” you whisper.
He laughs shyly. “You haven’t listened to the rest yet.”
“I don’t care,” you insist, shaking your head. “This is the one.”
Another laugh. “Okay, okay. Got it.”
You’re smiling wide, eyes shining just like the stars were shining that night, and then you look at the names of the other songs.
“Which of these have I listened to already?” you ask. “You showed me four songs already.”
“You’ve heard November, Moonja, Don’t Forget, and If the World Ends,” he replies. “There should be a bunch more.”
You nod, and you click on one of them. Jungkook waits for the track to start, and then he recognizes the beginning of the song Lips of Honey. It’s the most upbeat song of the album, and he can’t help but hum along to it as it plays, singing along with the chorus.
The song ends, and all you say is, “Adorable. Next.”
He snorts, and you go through the album like that, the whole six songs of it that you didn’t listen to yet, and then you end up playing Okinawa Beach again, your eyes on his profile.
“This is really the best,” you confirm. “I really liked…” You look at his phone. “Naenyeon and I Still Do. But this one is the best.”
Jungkook nods, touched that you’d choose this song. It’s his favourite, too. He’s thinking of making it a hidden track on the album, for fans to find as they listen through it. Because that moment with you was special, a little piece of a dream he’s been replaying in his mind every night when he falls asleep.
“But Jungkook,” you add.
You’re stopped at a red light, so he turns his head to look at you at the heaviness of your tone. “What?”
“Nightmare is…”
You don’t need to say it. It’s a rough song to listen to. It was the hardest to record, too, as he’d just keep bursting out crying every time he sang it. You can still hear it in his voice in the demo. He sounds raw, naked and vulnerable, and he’s not sure it’ll make it to the album, but it was part of his healing journey.
It needed to be out, and now it is.
“I know,” he lets out, holding your gaze.
You reach out, gently brushing his cheek. He wasn’t expecting it, and he freezes, up until a car behind honks for him to go.
“I’m proud of you for making all these songs,” you say after a moment of silence. “This album will be very touching to a lot of people.”
But especially to you, he almost says. Because all the songs are about you in the end. But like you said in Okinawa, “Heartbreak is one of the most universal things there is.” He’s been thinking about making a variation of that sentence the title of the album, but he hasn’t figured it out yet.
And he’s in no rush to release anything for now. Especially not when the group is working on a mini album to release on the band’s anniversary next year, and so he’s also been having to record some stuff with them.
They’re going slow. Slow and steady this time, instead of trying to pump some music out right away after their service. It’s much less hectic, and much more appropriate to the kind of life they’re all wanting to live now.
Last year, Jungkook would have been horrified at the thought, but he too wants to settle down now. To focus on building a life outside of music, too.
“I really hope so,” he says, playing with his piercings mindlessly. “But I want to try and make more happy songs for it,” he admits. “Because love isn’t just heartbreak, you know?”
“Of course.” You’re silent for a few heartbeats, long enough for him to meet your gaze. “In the end, heartbreak is just one of the phases of love.”
“Exactly.”
The conversation naturally ends there, and you’re surrounded by comfortable silence for a time, up until you finally reach Lotte tower. Jungkook’s made arrangements for the underground parking here, too, and he ends up leaving the car to the valet as a bodyguard is waiting to escort you both to the restaurant.
You take the backrooms to get to the elevator, and then you’re shooting up towards the sky, up until you reach the upper levels of the tower. You’re so high it feels like you’re amongst the stars, and you look out at the city with awe in your gaze.
“You know, I’ve never been here before,” you admit, glancing at Jungkook over your shoulder.
You’re standing in front of the glass windows that circle the tower, and though Jungkook’s never been scared of heights before, he’s almost afraid the window will break and you’ll fall. It’s stupid, as he’s aware this place is extremely safe, so he shoves down the fear, blaming it on his general nervousness.
He’s been calmer since you listened to his music in the car, but somehow, getting here reminds him of everything that’s come to pass between the two of you, and the insecurity in which you’re both standing in regards to what is going on between you now.
Is it the start of something new, or really just exes catching up?
You walk around for a bit, looking at the city from all the angles. Jungkook takes pictures of you when you ask him too, and you pose with a cute smile, eyes closed. You’re adorable, and his heart beats a little harder as he watches you, and even more so when you take your phone back from his hands, your fingers barely even touching his.
But it’s enough to send shivers skittering up his arms, and he swallows, almost gulping around a sudden lump in his throat.
“Let’s take a picture together,” you suggest, and you sound pensive, like you’re not even sure it’s a good idea.
Jungkook is quick to pull his phone from his pocket, though, and you end up taking a selfie with his phone high up so that you can see part of the city behind. You seem happy with it, sending it to yourself as you take his phone from his hands to look at it, and again the feeling of your fingers on his scatters his heartbeat to the wind.
How you can still have such an impact on him after so long is beyond his comprehension.
After that, you’re told your table is ready at the restaurant, and Jungkook leads the way, pulling your chair for you. You look around, frowning at the sight of the empty room, and you meet Jungkook’s gaze.
“Did you reserve the whole restaurant or something?” you ask. “Why is there no one?”
“I reserved the three floors, actually,” Jungkook answers sheepishly. “No one can come tonight except us.”
“Why did you do that!”
You sound flustered, your cheeks dotted with red, and Jungkook laughs.
“I figured we’d want privacy.”
“Oh.” You let out a small chuckle. “Right, that makes sense. But you’re crazy for booking the whole place. It must have been crazy expensive.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t think about it,” he reassures you. “I’ve got connections.”
“Of course, you do.”
You’re interrupted by a waitress bringing you the menu, and then you sit in silence as you both choose what you want to eat. You mention hesitating between a couple of meals, so Jungkook suggests ordering all of them to try them out. You laugh at his suggestion, only to see he’s serious.
“Gosh, Jungkook,” you let out, slightly shaking your head. “This is going to be expensive.”
“Y/n,” he says in a scolding tone, though he’s smiling when he says it. “You really don’t have to worry about it. I got you.”
You just hold his gaze, lips curved upwards, and then you nod. “Alright then, Jungkook. Get the fanciest items on the menu. Bet they have really expensive wine bottles, too.”
“You want wine?”
You nod. “I do not feel like this is the place to order a cocktail so, yes, I’d take wine.”
You end up choosing the wine, going for an option that’s a little more on the cheaper end but that you claim is good from having had it before. Jungkook trusts you – he’s never been too difficult with wine – and he’s glad he did, as the one you chose ends up being a lot more fruity than he expected.
“Wow,” he lets out. “This is good.”
“I know! But it’s dangerous,” you say. “It’s easy to get wasted with this wine.”
Jungkook laughs. “Imagine getting plastered in a restaurant like this one.”
“Looking down at the city like we’re on clouds or something,” you muse. “Like we’re Dionysus.”
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Really, Greek mythology?”
“I’ve been rereading the Percy Jackson series,” you admit. “So, yeah, Greek mythology.”
He laughs, way too endeared by you.
The conversation flows naturally then, much easier than it was in the car at the beginning. Like you just needed a time to get readjusted to the feeling of talking to each other, and Jungkook is smiling and laughing along with you as you wait for the food.
You chat about everything and nothing. He tells you about visiting his family in Busan, and you tell him about your brothers and their families. You talk about what your plans are for the book idea you’ve had, and you tell him you’re going to try and finish worldbuilding before you actually go into writing. You show him the map you’ve made for your world, and Jungkook whistles, impressed.
“This is really cool,” he lets out. “You’re amazing.”
You turn red. “Well, I just used an app. But… thanks.”
He smiles, loving the sight of you flustered. Especially when you meet his gaze after, and you just end up giggling lightly.
“What?” he asks.
“I’m just happy,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.
And fuck, the things it does to his heart…
“I’m happy too.”
You get the food not too long after that, the array of dishes in front of you a little overwhelming. But Jungkook puts a little bit of everything on your plate, and you taste the food together. Everything is good, though Jungkook has a preference for the steak. You seem to really like it too, so he cuts it up for you, taking only a few pieces for himself.
“Have more,” you tell him.
“You like it.”
“Jungkook, don’t be annoying,” you scold. “Have some more meat. We both need it for the gains.”
He laughs. “I almost forgot you’re a gym bro, now.”
“A gym bro?” You snort when he nods. “I’m not a gym bro. A gym rat, maybe? But do I look like a bro to you?”
“Flex your arms,” he challenges.
You glare at him, but you still do so. And for a girl, your shape really is impressive. It makes you even more attractive to Jungkook, and he lets his gaze drop to the piece of steak on his plate.
“Yeah, a gym bro,” he teases.
“I hate you,” you grumble.
He looks up, his smile wide. “No, you don’t.”
You just keep on glaring at him, but then you break into a small laugh, slightly shaking your head. “You’re annoying.”
It’s said with a touching fondness that just makes his chest warm all over again. He wonders if you can see it on his face – are his cheeks dusting with pink like yours tend to do? He wouldn’t be surprised.
He really is a weak man when it comes to you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because, despite everything that happened, despite the pain he went through at losing you…
His feelings have never changed, haven’t they? As he sits across from you, they fill his chest, fill his whole body.
In truth, he thinks they fill his whole soul, too. Like he was an empty glass before, and you’ve poured water into him.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” you say when you’re done eating, just sitting at the table talking about everything and nothing.
“Mmh?” he lets out.
“You mentioned…” you trail off, your eyes falling to your empty plate. “That you hooked up a lot over the last few months.”
His heart hurts in his chest as he thinks about all the girls he used to try to get over you, failing miserably every time. “Yeah?”
“I was just wondering… what was it like?”
“Honestly?” You meet his gaze, tilting your head to the side, and he hates the sadness passing in your gaze. “I was trying to get over you. And it never really worked. Most of the girls I only saw once, except one of them that I saw both in New York and Toronto because she was staying at the same hotel as we were.” He cringes internally as he sees you tensing, and your gaze falls away from his again. “But I didn’t care about any of them. I always felt miserable about it, too. It helped in the moment, I guess, but I felt worse waking up the next day.”
“Then why did you keep doing it?” you ask, and there’s no bite in your question. Just genuine curiosity, and Jungkook thinks he doesn’t deserve it.
“I didn’t think I’d ever talk to you again,” he admits, careful with his words as he doesn’t want to hurt you again. “And it was hard. I needed to stop thinking sometimes, and sex worked for that. But like I said, it never really helped for more than a few hours, if even that.”
“That’s sad,” you whisper.
It is. He was sad, all those months. Longing for another moment with you, believing he didn’t deserve it.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Losing you was really hard. I was just trying to cope.”
“I struggled a lot, too,” you reveal, and he wants to reach across the table, to pull you into a tight hug. But he refrains as you add, “I tried seeing someone once. I had a panic attack and stood him up.”
“Oh, Y/n…”
“But I understand why you would use sex to try to move on,” you continue. “It works for a lot of people. I guess I was just wondering… if you felt a connection with any of them.”
He almost laughs at the idea. As if he’ll ever be able to have a connection with someone else again.
“No, I didn’t,” he reassures you. “It was never more than sex.”
“Even that girl you saw twice?”
“Even her,” he says.
He doesn’t even remember her name now. Like all the others, she was more a body than a person. Which he reckons is disgusting, but he was lost without you.
Part of him still thinks he’s lost here in front of you, too.
“Okay.”
You don’t say anything else, and Jungkook just looks at you for a time. You meet his gaze again, and you smile. He breathes a sigh of relief, before saying, “You really don’t have to worry about any of that, okay?”
“I just… feel weirdly jealous, I guess,” you admit, cheeks turning red, and you let out a self-deprecating chuckle. “It’s stupid.”
It isn’t. In truth, it makes his mind spin to think you’d be jealous when you’re the one that ended things. His heart beats a little faster, and he has to take a moment to breathe before he replies lest he says something stupid.
“It’s not,” he gently says. “I get it.”
And he does. He genuinely does. To think you tried to go on a date… it makes him feel jealous, too.
You hold his gaze, and then you nod once. “Alright. Let’s just… not talk about that anymore.”
He chuckles, and you laugh along with him, and he’s surprised that the conversation hasn’t brought heaviness to the atmosphere at all. Instead, it seems like you feel relieved, and you’re lighter starting from then, like you shed a layer of heaviness that was clinging to you.
You order desserts, and you eat them with some more idle chatter, sipping your wine slowly. Seoul shines endlessly outside of the window, and Jungkook feels small as he takes in the world at your feet out there. As he takes in the light shining in your eyes, too, little sparks of reignited nostalgia and fondness appearing whenever you look at him.
He doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way that you do. The weight of your gaze is heavy, yet softer than a flower petal. It’s a weight he missed since last month, but also since you ended things with him back in February. Looking back, all the pain he felt over the year feels inconsequential. It feels unreal tonight, with you by his side. At the same time, it all feels worth it.
Every second of heartbreak is worth this moment with you on top of the world. He’d do it all over again if it meant another moment with you, another minute under that watchful, shining gaze of yours. And as he sits there, he realizes he’ll never feel like this ever again. You’re the closest to heaven that he’s ever been, and maybe one day, when life ends he’ll find such peace again, but here on this Earth, you’re the only one that’s ever made him feel this way.
Back in Busan, his mother told him that there are connections that you get to experience once in a lifetime and, whether they work out or not, you never forget about them. And he feels peaceful as he looks at you, as he realizes he’ll never forget you no matter the outcome of tonight.
He wonders, will you ever forget him? Or has he ingrained himself in your memory the way that you have in his?
Even if it ends tonight, he hopes you don’t forget. There’s beauty in memories shared never to be forgotten. Even if they come to an end inevitably.
“Thank you for tonight,” you tell him once the evening does come to an end, and you just sit watching the city while sipping on the last of the wine.
He smiles softly. “Thank you. For giving me the chance to organize this for us.”
You mirror the smile, though your gaze falls to the city down below. To the glimmer of the Han river as it snakes its way through Seoul. To the hundreds and thousands of lights that shine like stars down there, and to the real ones that shine in the sky, though very few are visible from here.
“I’d stay here all night,” you whisper.
He takes that truth, hides it in a corner of his heart. “I would, too.”
Almost like a twisted prank of the universe, the bodyguard from earlier comes up to the two of you, clearing his throat. You both look over your shoulders at him, and he looks like he wishes he wasn’t there.
It’d be funny, if not for the words he says next. “I hate to be telling you this, but you will have to go soon. They need to close up for the night.”
Jungkook nods curtly. “Can we have five minutes?”
“Sure.”
The bodyguard walks away to give you privacy, and Jungkook’s gaze slides to yours only to find you already looking.
“You know,” you let out, your tone gentle. “I’m only leaving at the end of next week.”
Jungkook’s heartbeat picks up in his chest. “Yeah?”
You nod, though you remain silent for a while as you both just look at each other, entirely forgetting the beauty of the city outside. For a small eternity, it’s just you, your shining gaze and the soft lines of your face.
And then you say, “Do you want to come back to the hotel with me?”
*****
You weren’t sure what Jungkook would say to your invitation. You felt like you didn’t deserve him saying yes. Not when you were the one that pushed him away all those months ago. But the second you extended the invitation, he lit up from within, shining brighter than the stars and the city lights.
So, you head back to your hotel together, fingers interlaced on the console between the two seats as Jungkook drives, humming along to the songs you’ve been playing.
You’ve been playing his album again, replaying your favourite song over and over again, if only to let the emotion of it sit in your chest along with all the other emotions you’ve been feeling tonight. His thumb is rubbing the back of your hand soothingly, and every time he stops at a red light or a stop sign, he looks at you like you’re the star he orbits.
It makes your heart race, your chest tighten with anticipation, and you want to collide with him. You want your orbits to clash together, even if all that’s left at the end is dust to be carried away on a cosmic wind.
You get to the hotel, and Jungkook lets go of your hand to focus on parking. You just watch him as he does so, your eyes finding his hands as they spin the wheel, and you feel your cheeks burning.
He’s coming with you. You’re not letting him go, just yet.
You don’t even know if you’ll be able to let him go, at all. But then again… You live on the other side of the world. You might not be able to let him go, but the universe will do it for you.
Once Jungkook turns off the engine, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, until he says, “Let’s go?”
It spurs you both into action, and you get out of the car, heading to the elevator in front of which he picked you up earlier. Jungkook holds the door open for you to walk into the small room, and you press on the button to call the elevator before turning to face him again.
He’s looking at you, a pensive look on his features, and he extends his hand in the space between you like an invitation, and you interlace your fingers with his again. He pulls you closer, though he stops before wrapping his arms around you, as if to make sure you want it, too.
You don’t hesitate. You close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist as you lay your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steady and strong in your ear. Jungkook lowers his head, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, and your eyes flutter closed as you take in the sensation of his strong body against yours, again.
You missed this. You missed it so much, and you’re done missing it. You don’t want to miss him tonight. Not when you’ve spent so many months longing for him despite the distance, the heartbreak, and all the other obstacles that lie between you and him. They don’t matter anymore.
At least not for the next few hours. It might matter come dawn, but you’ll face it then, and then only. For now, you’ll live in the present.
The elevator dings, the doors sliding open, and you step away from Jungkook’s warm embrace to walk into the elevator. He follows you, grabbing your hand again, and he leans against the wall, looking at you as the doors slide close. You stand in front of him, looking up into his dark eyes, though they’re still shining.
It’s endless. The light in his eyes when he casts his gaze upon you is endless. You feel yourself leaning in, tiptoeing and he leans down, his lips brushing yours in a barely there kiss that still leaves yours tingling as he pulls away, leaning his head back against the wall.
And then he’s cupping your cheek with his free hand, and you instinctively lean in his palm, still lost in his eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “How can you be so beautiful?”
The elevator reaches your floor, the doors sliding open, and you lead him to your tiny room. You press in the code on the dial pad at the door, and it unlocks, the lock whirring softly. You open the door, stepping in, pulling Jungkook in behind you. He closes the door behind himself, leaning against it.
For a moment, you just stand there looking at each other. And then you clash. But it’s gentle, in slow motion, his hands grabbing your face and pulling you in. He kisses you softly, gently, like he’s afraid to break you, yet your heart goes wild in your chest, each beat longing for him.
For more of him, always.
So you kiss him back. Slowly, softly, getting lost in the eternity of this moment with him. He tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss with a swipe of his tongue, and you sigh, hands flat on his chest. You feel his heartbeat in your palm as it matches the rhythm of your own. Yet, despite your hearts racing, you still kiss slowly.
You have all night in front of you. And it seems he’s just as keen as you to take advantage of every second with you. He doesn’t want to rush things. It shows in the way he slowly undresses you, taking off your coat first. He pushes off the door, and then you’re kicking your shoes off, forgoing to put on slippers.
No, you’re too busy letting him push you back towards the bed. Though he stops to take your shirt off before you reach your destination, and you stand there with your lace bralette on, watching him as he watches you. As his fingers brush up your side, scattering goosebumps in their wake. His eyes are darker now, though they’re burning like embers as he takes you in.
“You really are beautiful,” he says then. “An angel, really.”
You blush, not knowing what to reply. Instead, you reply with actions. With pulling on the hem of his shirt, pushing it up until he takes the cue and takes it off, letting it fall on the floor along with yours.
Now, it’s your turn to take in the sight of him. Of his hard muscles, and of his skin that glows like honey in the light of the lamp on the bedside table. He really is stronger than he was last year, having gained a good ten to fifteen pounds of muscles. It’s intimidating, really, though you still gently graze your fingers on his abs, going up between his pecs until you’re loosely wrapping your hand around his throat.
He gulps. You feel it in your hand, and you pull him down into a kiss. His pink lips are still just as soft as they were a second ago, but the kiss turns more languid, sloppier, his tongue exploring your mouth. You taste all of him, and the lingering taste of the wine, too. It makes your head spin, especially as he pushes you to the bed again.
You stop when your legs hit the side of it, and he pulls away from the kiss to look at you. Your hand has slid on his chest now, resting on his warm skin, and he grabs your wrist with the softest grip, pulling on your hand until he can leave a soft kiss on your palm.
He’s beautiful, too. You might not have said it back, but he’s so beautiful right now, a strand of hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at you. It doesn’t seem to bother him, and when you reach up to brush it back, it just falls in his eyes again, so you let it be.
“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” Jungkook asks then.
You know what he’s referencing right away, and you give him a nod. “Yes. I want you, Jungkook. I’ve wanted you for months.”
His eyes shut like it pains him to hear it. But then he’s looking at you again, and you see so much love in his gaze that you can’t breathe for a time.
If this were your last day on Earth, you’d die happy. Because you feel known, here in his gaze. You feel seen like you’ve never been before, and it’s a feeling you doubt you’ll ever forget, even if tonight is the last night you get with him.
Jungkook opens his eyes, and then he gently pushes you back until you sit on the bed. You move back on it so you can lie down, and his gaze falls to your side. You see the moment he looks at your scars, and he clenches his jaw, his features turning hard. Insecure, you cover them with your hand, but he climbs on the bed next to you, pushing your hand away. And then he’s leaning in, pressing a soft kiss on the two scars.
Your eyes are wet when he meets your gaze again. He gently brushes your hair behind your ear, and he kisses you.
You’re in love with him. Even after all the months apart, even after what you went through, you’re still in love with him. It makes you feel like crying even more. If he senses it, it doesn’t seem to make him want to pull away. He just keeps on kissing you, emptying your mind with every swipe of his tongue. Soon, your heart settles in your chest, the tears pass, and you hold onto his forearm.
This time, the kiss doesn’t stay soft and sweet. It catches fire, grows fiery in a way you can’t quite comprehend but that has always made sense between the two of you. It leads to him ridding you of the rest of your clothes before he takes his off, too. And then he’s kneeling between your legs, dick proud and tall as he jerks himself off, looking down at you.
You look down at him, too, take in the sight of the precum sitting on his slit. It glistens in the light of the lamp and, fuck, you can’t believe you made it back to him like this.
“Do you have a condom?” you ask.
He freezes, most likely because you’ve never worn a condom before, but after what he’s told you about the hooking up…
You don’t want to risk it.
“Yeah,” he lets out, and he gets up to grab his wallet from his pants. He takes a condom out of it, and he tears the tinfoil package open before rolling the condom on. A few seconds later, he’s back to kneeling between your legs, and he says, “Ready?”
You are. You’ve been ready for a while now. So you nod, and he aligns himself with your entrance. He stops there for a time, gaze finding yours, and then he’s slowly pushing in, one inch at a time. It hurts, just a little. Most likely because you haven’t had sex in almost a year now. And so your mouth falls open on a pained sound, and Jungkook stills.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concern interlaced with the words.
You nod. “I’m just…” you trail off. “You’re bigger than I remember.”
He smirks. “You can take it, baby. You’ve always taken me so well.”
The praise sends your mind in a spiral of lust for him, and you raise your hips, trying to get him to push in deeper despite the burning stretch you already feel. His hands find your waist, helping to hold you a little higher, and then he glances at the headboard. He seems to consider something for a second, and then he’s grabbing a pillow, putting it under your ass.
He’s quick to push inside of you this time around. It’s unforgiving, and you let out a broken moan as he fully sheaths himself in you.
“See?” he says as your walls clench around him. “I knew you could take me.”
“Jungkook…”
“I know, baby.”
He bends down, kissing you deeply, and then he starts slowly fucking you. It’s deep, his hips hitting yours in a slap of skin every time, and you wrap your legs around his waist to feel him deeper. He groans, and you suck on his piercings.
“Fuck,” he curses. He leans his forehead against yours, never slowing down his rhythm. You just softly moan as he fucks you – as he makes love to you – and he says, “I can’t get enough of you. I can never get enough of you.”
And then he’s accelerating the rhythm. It feels good, infinitely so, and you moan his name. It makes him kiss you again, languidly, all tongue and lips and grunts and moans, and you get lost in him while he gets lost in you. He fucks you like that for a while, but eventually, he pulls out and flips you around.
He pushes one of your legs up, and then he’s fucking you from behind, too. His lips are on the side of your head, and then he’s biting at the lobe of your ear, prompting shivers to run up and down your spine. It makes your pussy clench around him, and he groans as he stills deep inside of you.
“You feel so good,” he whispers. “Like your pussy was made for me.” He starts moving again, back to a slow and steady rhythm. “I just want to be inside you for the rest of the night.” He kisses your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this.”
You reach back, cupping his cheek. He kisses your palm once, and you feel so full of him, so full of emotions, of love and yearning and longing and everything in between, that you don’t see your high coming until it slaps you in the face.
You moan his name, and he whispers sweet nothings in your ear as you come. He fucks you slow and steady through it all, coming to a halt when he’s sure to have milked your high out of you. He lets you breathe for a time, and then he presses a kiss on your cheek before kneeling back.
“I’m going to come now, m’kay?” he says, and it’s all the warning you get before he starts fucking you rough, chasing his own high.
You’re crying out under him, and it feels so good you think you might come again. You’d forgotten how good sex always is with him, and you grab onto the sheets as he fucks you, his motions growing sloppier until he stills deep inside of you, groaning your name as he shoots his load into the condom.
His dick twitches inside of you, and you’re so sensitive that your walls pulse in return. It’s heavenly, and you’re swimming in bliss when he leans down to kiss your cheek again.
He slips out of you a few heartbeats later, and he lies down next to you, pulling you into his chest. He’s sweaty, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You want him as close as possible, and you turn so that you can nuzzle your face in his neck. And then you lie there, limbs entwined, for a small eternity.
It feels like you’ve come home. After all this time, you’re finally home, and you hold him tighter, trying to pull him in even closer.
“How are you feeling?” he asks in a whisper as he runs his hand through your hair.
“Good,” you murmur. “You?”
You hear his smile in his voice when he says, “Better than I felt all year.”
You press a soft kiss on the mole on his neck. “Me too.”
A sweet eternity passes, the world outside paused for you and him. Jungkook rubs your back, tracing idle shapes into your skin, and you just breathe in the scent of him. You commit the feeling of his body against yours to memory…
Just in case. Because you never want to forget this moment in time. When you die, you want it to be the scene your mind decides to revisit one last time.
“Can we spend the week together?” you whisper against his skin.
Jungkook pecks the top of your head. “Yes. Fuck. Yes, we can. I’ll stay with you.”
You smile, holding him a little tighter.
And even if the week comes to an end, you know that this, this is it. A core memory was born tonight, and you hope he feels it too.
You hope the knowledge of it is shared between the two of you. One last thing to share before you go.
Before the universe decides if it’ll split you and Jeon Jungkook up, again.
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i am very soft for these two and i love them so so much. let me know what you thought of this chapter here <3
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter deals with heavy themes)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: mentions of jungkook's drinking habits, cursing, alcohol, still a lot of trauma tbh, mentions of the assault and of blood,
☆word count: 15.8k (it's a long one oop)
☆a/n: I adore this chapter with all of my heart and I hope you will love it too <3 thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Monday, October 5th
The waves lap at the shore, slowly, endlessly. Seagulls cry out in the sky up above, chasing each other across the vast blue expanse over your head. Their shadows chase them on the floor, eaten by the waves as they reach up to where you’re walking, the water fresh despite the hot day.
It’s your first time in Okinawa. You’d only heard of it in passing before, and in a song you’ve been listening to on repeat since you got here yesterday. It’s peaceful, much like the palm trees are as they sway in the breeze. The mountains in the distance loom tall and green, and you feel like you’ve stepped into paradise.
When Jennie called you on FaceTime two weeks ago to reveal that she and Taehyung got engaged, you did not know what to say. It felt sudden to you, but then again you haven’t been in Seoul since February. It feels like the lives of the people over there have been put on pause during your absence, but you’re aware it’s not the case.
Taehyung proposed to her over a romantic dinner the day he got home from the tour. Jennie said that he promised to love her every day of his life, till his heart gives out. It was romantic, much like something you’d write in a book, and the ring he got Jennie is…
Well, simply put, the ring outshines the sun in the sky up above. The rock that sits in its center is slender, surrounded by a group of smaller stones that just makes it sparkle like it’s lit from within. You didn’t expect it to be something Jennie would love, as she usually does not wear big jewellery, but she’s in love with it, so you love it, too.
When Jennie invited you to Okinawa for their engagement party, you considered claiming that you were too busy with writing a book. Which would have been a lie – you haven’t written anything since last year, though you’ve started thinking about what your next story could be. You’ve thought about fantasy, even though it’s a genre you’ve never written before. Maybe a fantasy world of secret societies that compete against each other to rule the world.
You don’t have much more than that, and so you couldn’t bring yourself to lie and tell Jennie you couldn’t come. Especially considering you haven’t seen her since she and Hyunseok helped you with packing your stuff at your apartment back in February.
You miss her. She’s become one of your closest friends, and you have spent months missing her. So you said yes, and she sent you the information of the villa where you’re now staying, along with a message telling you that Jungkook said he would not come if you were there.
It hurt. To think that he does not want to see you, but you understood. You told Jennie to tell him you didn’t mind if he were to come, as Jennie and Taehyung have been his friends for much longer than you have, but Jennie never confirmed or denied if he was coming.
You don’t know what Jungkook has been up to since the last time you talked in February. You fully cut ties after that, even unfollowing him on social media, and your phone number has changed since you’ve moved back home, so if he tried to text or call, you obviously did not see it.
He still follows you with his burner account. You’ve checked while you were at the airport, waiting for the flight that was going to bring you here. And Jungkook was still there, and another quick search later, he’s still liking your posts, too.
Not that you’ve been very active on social media. You have put your online life on pause since you went home, needing to really disconnect with everything for a time. It helped tremendously, and you reckon you’ve made great progress in healing from your trauma.
It’s almost as if it never happened. But part of you doesn’t want to forget it did, so when a producer from Seoul reached out to say that they’d like to adapt your story to the screen, you agreed to meet with them.
You’ll be meeting them next month, and it’ll be your first time back in Seoul after so long. You don’t know how to feel about it.
The song that’s playing in your earbuds ends, and you look down at your phone to restart it again, the gentle voice and soft guitar chords filling your ears once more. And then you keep on walking down the beach, your sunglasses perched on your nose to protect your eyes from the sun. You push them up, as the sunscreen you’ve put on earlier has been making them slide down your nose constantly.
It could be annoying, but you feel so peaceful right now, lost in the paradise that Okinawa is, and you reckon you might come back here again some time.
You’ve been walking for a while. Your goal was to reach the limit of the private beach, which you did not realize was so long, but you finally see the sign that indicates the end of the private beach and the start of the public one.
A lot of people are lounging on the other side of the sign, and you turn back around before any of them can recognize you, though you doubt people would actually recognize you here.
You walk back the way you came, following the tracks you left behind on the way to the sign. The waves keep on lapping at your feet, climbing around your ankles. It tickles, but it’s so damn peaceful.
You stop, facing the sea. For a moment, you just look out at the clear water, at the waves as they reach the island. You close your eyes, too, breathing the salty air in, your feet slowly digging in the sand as the waves keep on coming, relentless in their pursuit of the coast.
Your serenity is interrupted by your phone vibrating in your hand. You crack an eye open, looking down to see you’ve received a message from Heryung.
[2:37 pm] Heryung: you’re here?!?
You chuckle at the sight, and you quickly reply that you are, before resuming your walk back to the villa.
Originally, Jennie and Taehyung wanted to rent the villa in Jeju island where you stayed in August last year, but it wasn’t available under such short notice, and it was also too small to host all of their friends and family members. So they ended up renting this villa, though it’s more of a resort with multiple smaller villas.
You’re staying at the biggest one, where Jennie and Taehyung are also staying, but you’re in another wing along with Hoseok, Heryung and Jimin. The other members have another villa a little further away from the beach as Jennie and Taehyung’s family settled in the ones on each side of yours.
It’s nearly three o’clock when the first villa comes into sight, and you notice Park Seojoon and another actor you can’t remember the name of standing outside of it, rinsing their feet at the shower outside. The actor you don’t know notices you, and he offers you a polite bow that you return before he turns to reply to Park Seojoon.
The latter doesn’t see you, and you continue on your way to your villa. It’s nestled between two palm tree groves, with wooden walkways that lead to the other villas. A bird with a bright orange beak is walking in the grove, and it pauses as it catches sight of you, assessing you for danger.
You’ve taken a picture of it earlier, so you leave it alone this time around as you reach the two steps that lead up to the deck behind the villa. You climb them, heading to the sliding glass doors behind which you can see Heryung and Hoseok standing in the kitchen area. Heryung catches sight of you, and she waves enthusiastically.
You slide the door open, a gush of air conditioner hitting you in the face as you step inside. Heryung is upon you before you’ve even had time to close the door behind you, engulfing you in a tight hug.
“Hey there,” she says. “I’m so happy you’re here.” She pulls away, still holding your shoulders as you awkwardly take off your Airpods. “I had no idea you were going to be here.”
“Surprise!” you let out, and she laughs.
Her eyes then go down your frame, and she whistles. “Girl, you’ve been working out.”
You have. You did even before, but when you returned home, you felt the need to busy yourself with something, to always be on the move. So you started working out nearly every day, and you now have the results to show it.
It was a good way for you to regain power over your own body too, as your therapist said. And it allowed you to decrease the strength of your meds, which you’re hoping to stop taking some time soon.
You’ve healed. You’ve healed so much over the months, and you think you’re lucky to have been able to reach such a calm state of mind, such a physique even after what happened to you.
“Yeah, five times a week, baby,” you reply.
She laughs. “Damn, I’m jealous. I wish I had thighs like yours.”
Hers are dainty, skinny, as her job as a model requires.
“Become a sportswear model,” you suggest. “I’ll go to the gym with you and get you those gains.”
She smirks. “I bet that gives you sick endurance in the...”
You roll your eyes, a light blush dusting your cheeks at the innuendo. In truth, you haven’t had sex since nearly a year ago, since the last time you and Jungkook had sex at his house before everything went down. So you wouldn’t know about endurance in the way Heryung means, but you do have good endurance on the stairmaster, if that counts.
“Doesn’t she look amazing?” Heryung says to her boyfriend over her shoulder.
“Hey, Y/n,” Hoseok greets you when you meet his gaze, ignoring Heryung.
“Hey, Hobi.”
Jennie appears at the bend in the hallway, and her gaze lights up at the sight of you. “You’re back!”
She walks over to you, looking behind her as if someone is following, though no one appears. She meets your gaze again, and then glances at Hoseok and Heryung.
“How was the walk?” she asks as she stops next to you, and Heryung finally lets go of your shoulders to let her arms fall at her side.
“Great,” you reply, frowning in suspicion. “What’s up with you?”
“Okay so,” she starts, and then she shuts her eyes and winces. “Remember when I said Jungkook would not come?”
Your heart skips a painful beat in your chest as anticipation fills your ribcage. “Yeah?”
“Well, turns out he’s here.”
Your throat dries out, and you just stare at her for a few seconds, not knowing what to say.
“You said to tell him it was fine to come, and he never confirmed, but he…”
She trails off, because loud voices come from the hallway, and you recognize Jungkook’s laugh.
You’d recognize it anywhere. Panic grips at you as Taehyung appears first, followed by Jimin and, last but not least, Jungkook. You think your heart entirely stops pumping blood, and you don’t think you’re breathing as Jungkook catches sight of you, too.
He stops in his tracks, mouth half open like he was going to say something, and he closes it, blinking once. Jimin and Taehyung seem unaware of the fact he’s stopped, because they pour into the kitchen, talking loudly.
“Oof,” Heryung lets out.
Oof indeed.
Jimin and Taehyung finally grow aware that you are there, and they both spin to look at Jungkook, who’s still just staring at you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, trying to ease the tension that’s growing in the room, and he gives you a small nod of acknowledgement back, though he doesn’t smile.
He doesn’t smile, and if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve really been so good at healing, you think you might shed a tear. Instead, you look away, meeting Jennie’s gaze. She’s staring at you as if expecting something to happen, but when you just give her the same smile, her shoulders relax.
“Sorry for not letting you know before,” she mouths.
You shrug, and then you look back towards where Jungkook was standing. He’s moved to where Taehyung and Jimin are, and they start talking again, Hoseok joining them.
Your Korean has grown a little rusty over the months of disuse, but a few seconds of listening to their Satoori dialect tells you they’re talking about the flight over. You stop focusing on them, instead looking between Jennie and Heryung that are exchanging a gaze.
It’s awkward. This whole thing is really fucking awkward.
“He and Jimin are going to share a room,” Jennie says, and she scrunches up her nose.
Because that means he’s staying in this villa, too.
You kind of wish you could dig a hole in the sand outside and hide in it.
“Oof,” Heryung repeats.
You snort. You don’t know why you do, but you snort, and you reckon you’ll be fine. Despite the pain of how it ended, you and Jungkook are on good terms. And it’s only a week. You surely can cohabit for a week without anything happening, can’t you?
Tuesday, October 6th
Jungkook thought that seeing you again would hurt. He thought it’d push him back months in the progress he’s made since you ended things in February. And though seeing you did hurt, his heart straining in his chest uncomfortably, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.
He still drank more than necessary last night, just to make sure he wouldn’t have a nightmare. Jimin drank with him, and they stayed up far later than everyone else, the sun already lightening the sky outside when they ended up crashing. And crashing they did, only waking up in the middle of the afternoon.
The villa is empty when Jungkook ventures outside of the bedroom while Jimin decides to stay in bed. He heads to the bathroom – the one he shares with Heryung, Hoseok, Jimin and you. He notices your toiletry bag, the same one you had last year, and a wave of nostalgia hits him as he turns the shower on, seeing your shampoo in there too.
He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk to you. To cohabit with you should be doable, but losing you hurt so bad, and he doesn’t want to go there again.
Hell, he reckons he might find someone to lose himself in like he’s been doing at every stop on the tour. Sex was a good way to not think about you for a time, until it became easy to see another girl and not wish it was you.
Sort of.
As he washes his hair, Jungkook’s eyes fall on your shampoo bottle. And he can’t help but wonder, have you been hooking up with other people too? A lump forms in his throat at the thought, and he clears it away, pushing you away from his mind.
He’ll likely see you again today. He does not need to be thinking of you. It’s hard not to, though, especially when he walks out to the kitchen once he’s done with his shower to see the juice you like in the fridge.
He pours himself a glass, and then grabs a fruit. He sits at the dinner table, eyes cast towards the beach outside, and he sees a group of people playing volleyball. He can’t see you, and he’s almost disappointed at the thought.
But it’s okay, he tells himself.
He bites into his apple, the satisfying crunch filling the air around him. It’s juicy, sweeter than he expected it to be, and he wipes his chin as some of the juice drips on it when he takes a second bite.
The day is beautiful outside. The blue sky is empty of clouds, and he reckons he might go for a run on the beach if it’s not too hot.
He eats as he watches the people playing outside, wondering where they got the net. Jennie is there, and she serves with precision, aiming right between Taehyung’s siblings on the other side. The ball falls in the sand, and Jennie highfives her teammates.
Jungkook spies Minha standing to the side, a hand on the swell of her belly. She and Seokjin finally managed to get pregnant during the summer, and they’ve both been glowing with joy and pride since then, their love seemingly renewed. It’s beautiful to see, though Jungkook has found he struggles with witnessing love in general now.
Most likely because his heart feels like it turned to stone after losing you. It was the only way to protect himself from the pain as he had to focus on the tour instead. He grew numb to feelings in general, and he’s been riding that wave since February.
He did try therapy, like you suggested he should. It became quickly clear that with the rhythm of the tour and the jetlag with Korea, doing therapy wasn’t really sustainable, though. And so he stopped after a few appointments, focusing on the gym and on the concerts instead.
And then, in March, he hooked up with that first girl, and he started focusing on the sex, too. He also started drinking again, though never to the extent that he did last December.
He never wants to go back to where he was last December.
“Holy fuck,” Jimin says as he walks into the kitchen, hair dishevelled. “I feel like a truck hit me.”
“Good morning to you too,” Jungkook says with a chuckle.
Jimin squints his eyes at the brightness on the other side of the sliding doors, and then heads to the fridge, where he grabs a water bottle.
“I’m too old to drink like that anymore,” he says before opening the water bottle, downing half of it in one go. “Way too old.”
“You’ll survive, grandpa,” Jungkook teases.
“I’m going to kill you.”
Jimin’s threat falls flat as he sways, leaning against the counter. Jungkook just laughs at him, and then takes a bite of his apple.
“You should take a cold shower,” he says once he swallows. “It’ll get you right back up and running.”
“I’d rather shoot myself, thanks,” Jimin grumbles.
The sliding doors open, and both of their gazes turn to see you as you freeze there, looking between the two of them.
Like yesterday, Jungkook is hit with a wave of nostalgia and pain at the sight of you. He lets it wash over him, tries to stay impassive, but it’s hard when you meet his gaze, and you offer him that same awkward smile as yesterday. He doesn’t bother to return it, instead biting into his apple, and your gaze drops to the floor as you step in, closing the door behind you.
“You guys are up late,” you say to no one in particular, but Jungkook foolishly hopes you’re trying to talk to him.
He immediately douses that hope with a fat dose of reality, because you’ve made it clear you wanted nothing to do with him last February.
“It’s his fault,” Jimin grumbles. “And I’m going back to bed before my head explodes.”
Jungkook watches him leave, and then glances at you again. You’re already looking at him, and his heart skips a beat in his chest. You smile once more, and then you push a strand of hair behind your ear.
This time, Jungkook mirrors the smile. It comes naturally, before he can stop it. It’s helped by the fact that it’s the first time you’re actually alone since last winter, and he also doesn’t want to make things harder for you.
“You cut your hair,” you comment, and Jungkook frowns, surprised that you would notice.
Indeed, he let it grow over the months of touring, but he got it cut shorter again before he came here, mostly because he knew he’d have trouble with supporting the heat if he still had long hair.
“Yeah,” he lets out.
You nod awkwardly, and your gaze drops to the floor again. Jungkook takes the opportunity to actually look at you, his gaze roving down your frame and back up.
You look amazing. Hell, you look like you’ve been putting work in at the gym, the muscles you had before having grown tremendously since the last time he saw you. You look strong, like someone to not fuck around with, unless one wants to find out how it feels to get punched in the face. It’s attractive, especially as you’re not wearing any shorts over your olive green bikini. You are wearing a shirt, though, and Jungkook thanks his stars because he definitely would have made a fool of himself if you didn’t.
As he looks at your face again, he sees you looking, but he doesn’t let it show that you caught him. Or at least he tries not to, taking another bite of his apple.
“The weather is amazing outside,” you comment. “You should come out before it’s too late.”
Jungkook nods. “Just going to finish eating this, and then I’ll go for a run.”
“You run?” you ask.
He tilts his head to the side. “Yeah.”
You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and then you look at the hallway. You seem to hesitate, and then you take a step towards it, before glancing his way again. “Well, I won’t bother you any longer.”
You don’t wait for him to say something before you’re walking away, and Jungkook takes a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. The breath hurts, burns like he’s breathing water instead of air. Because talking to you…
It was a lot harder than he thought it’d be. Mostly because of the awkwardness, and of this feeling that you are just strangers now. But then again… his next breath fills his lungs with the realization that he did talk to you, and he survived.
He’s moved on more than he thought he did. Or not enough, because he finds himself looking in the direction you disappeared, hoping you’ll come back so he can tell you that he’s glad to see you.
His emotions are conflicting, and it’s far too frustrating for him to just sit there. So he quickly finishes eating, chugs the glass of juice, and then he heads outside, waving to the people that notice him before he runs down the beach, heading towards the horizon.
Hopefully, the run will clear his mind. And it does, but he reckons it’s all owed to how incredibly peaceful Okinawa is. Especially at this time of the year, when it doesn’t feel like the humidity is trying to replace the oxygen. And running on a beach, on the spot where the sand is wet from the high tide, is something he’s always loved, even though he’s only really taken a liking to run on the last months of the tour. But here, on the beach, he feels like he could run up to the mountains in the distance, though he’s forced to turn around when he realizes that there’s a public beach up ahead, filled with tourists.
He has no intention of getting recognized here, so he turns around, running back the way he came. And as he gets closer to the people playing volleyball, he sees that you’ve joined them.
You’ve taken the shirt off, too, and he slows down to a walk as he takes in the sight of you. You jump to try and block Lisa’s hit, but you’re small and your fingers don’t even reach the top of the net. It makes everyone laugh, but Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlight, like he’s suddenly been dumped in space, at the sight of the scars on your side.
You haven’t gotten the scars removed. He knew it, as the doctor reimbursed him even though he insisted that they keep the money, but seeing them standing stark on your sunkissed skin makes his brain zoom back to that night in November last year, and for a second, all he sees is blood and your eyes clouding over.
He’ll throw up. He’s going to fucking throw up, and Minha notices him standing there. Before she can say anything, he turns towards the sea and kicks off his shoes before jogging in the waves and diving in.
He stays under the water, eyes closed, as the waves pass overhead. It’s calm here, so calm he can hear the sirens in the distance. He can hear the doctor telling him to let go of your hand, and he sees you being wheeled away on that stretcher.
He thought you’d never come back. But you did, and you asked him to leave.
What a fucking mess.
He surfaces as his lungs are starting to burn, and he realizes he’s been pulled out at sea more than he intended while being under, the current stronger than he imagined it to be. But he’s always been a decent swimmer, so he doesn’t let it worry him as he starts swimming back to shore, up to a spot where his feet can touch the soft sand. He stands there, the waves crashing into him, and he looks at the horizon, at the blue sky and the sea and the seagulls.
The sun chases away the darkness of his memories, and the feeling that his heart was plunged in acid fades away, replaced by his familiar numbness. He clings onto it as he breathes.
He wasn’t expecting the strength of that reaction. Hell, he thought he was doing better.
He was just not expecting to see your scars. To be reminded that you almost died last year, and no amount of telling himself it wasn’t his fault was enough to convince him he was guilt free.
“Everything okay?” Taehyung says next to him, startling him as Jungkook didn’t hear him approach over the sound of the waves.
He glances at his friend. “Yeah.”
“You panicked,” Taehyung pointed out.
Jungkook looks back towards the horizon. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to say you’re okay if you aren’t, you know?”
Jungkook gulps, and they’re both forced to take a step back as a stronger wave splashes into them. “I know,” Jungkook says once the wave has passed. “For the most part, I am okay, though.”
“Yeah?” Taehyung lets out.
Jungkook nods. “Yeah. I talked with her earlier.”
“You did?”
Another nod. “It went well.”
Except he was awkward, barely even engaging with you, and he left on a run thinking it would help only to panic at the sight of you after.
“That’s good,” Taehyung says, and he sounds far happier than Jungkook is.
It’s hard to blame him, as he just got engaged to the love of his life.
“Are you going to try to talk to her again?”
He doesn’t know. Hell, he doesn’t know if he can without breaking down. Because even as he stares at the horizon, at the spot where the sea and the sky meet, all he sees is the pink and white scars on your side.
They look painful. And he knows they were. He knows how much you bled out that night, and he knows a part of him died with you on the ambulance ride, in the hospital after. He just wasn’t faced with it for months, and he had stupidly forgotten.
Now, he remembers. He remembers the pain, the fear, the excruciating wait with your mother. He remembers you telling him to leave, and then he remembers the drinking. Breaking down with Jennie, returning to the tour. Breaking down during the tour, too, seeing you the day after.
You ending things.
And maybe over the months, the sex and the alcohol and the concerts helped with chasing the pain away, helped with that numbness he felt, but his heart hasn’t forgotten what it felt for you, and being near you is awakening everything again.
It’s dangerous grounds to tread – what healed could break again, irreparably. And he’s so tired then, staring at the horizon, that he wishes a wave would just take him out at sea and leave him to die.
“Fuck,” he curses.
Taehyung stares at his profile. “You don’t have to talk to her,” he carefully says, unaware of the spiral Jungkook’s mind just went down.
“I know.”
But he wants to. He wants to and he wishes you don’t. Because it really is dangerous grounds to tread, and he can’t afford breaking again. He barely got out alive last time.
“Just go with the flow,” Taehyung suggests. “She told Jennie she’s glad you’re here.”
And on that treacherous thread of hope thrown towards Jungkook, Taehyung leaves, not once looking back.
Conflicting emotions. Jungkook reckons it’ll be the theme of this week here, after all.
Wednesday, October 7th
You haven’t talked to Jungkook since that awkward moment yesterday. You think he’s avoiding you, and it’s been made clear when you all had dinner at the dining hall of the resort. You tried to ask him how his run was, and he just walked past you, ignoring you.
It hurt, and you decided not to reach out first again. You have to respect his boundaries, and he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You cried about it last night, after everyone went to bed, and you’ve been tired all day, falling asleep for a nap on the beach.
You’ve been tanning, not having the energy to play volleyball today, and Heryung and Minha have been staying with you, along with Namjoon’s girlfriend, who just got here today. Minji is her name, and she’s been very sweet, though much like Minha, she doesn’t speak a lot of English. So you’ve mostly stuck around with Heryung instead, as Jennie has been spending the day with her family.
So a nap on the beach it was, and you wake up feeling sore, your skin slightly burning. You blink a few times, your eyes slowly adjusting to the light until you see that clouds have gathered in the sky, looking rather menacing. You sit up straight to notice the girls have left, and where Heryung used to be, Jungkook is sitting.
His gaze widens when he sees you looking at him.
“You’re awake,” he states, as if it wasn’t obvious.
You close your eyes, rubbing a hand over your features. “Huh?”
There’s a short silence as you look at Jungkook again. He’s still staring at you, and you feel so confused by his sudden willingness to talk you wonder if you’re still asleep.
“It’s going to rain soon,” he says. “The girls went inside, but you were sleeping, so I said I’d stay with you and wake you up if it started to rain.”
Well, that explains why he’s here, and why you’re alone with him. Indeed, a glance behind shows that the beach has been vacated, and a strong gust of wind sends your hair flying around your head.
“Ah,” you let out flatly.
You make no move to get up, though, and neither does Jungkook. You both just glance at the sea, the churning waters way more aggressive than you’ve seen them before.
“Do you think there will be a storm?” you ask as the dark clouds on the horizon seem to be rolling towards you.
“Probably,” he replies. “Not a big one, though. We’re out of season.”
You nod, and another gush of wind carries a spray of salty water all the way to where you’re sitting.
“Guess I won’t get a tan today,” you comment.
Jungkook chuckles. He chuckles, and it’s the first time you’ve heard him chuckle because of you since way before February, and your heart stops in your chest.
You look at him, and he looks at you, and he offers you a small smile.
A truce it is, then.
Your chest fills with warmth, and you look at the horizon again. The storm doesn’t look so bad with him sitting next to you.
“How was the nap?” Jungkook asks, initiating the conversation for the first time since you got here.
“It was good,” you admit. “I haven’t been sleeping too well with the jetlag.”
“Yeah, a thirteen hour difference is brutal.”
It is. It was easier when you moved to Korea in April forever ago, but maybe that was just because it wasn’t for only a few days. You had so long to get adjusted to it that it didn’t really matter if you were tired at the beginning. Here, you’ve been trying to get up early, to enjoy the days as much as possible since you’re only here for a week.
“It is,” you agree with a sigh.
There’s a silence, and though you wish you would find how to fill it, it doesn’t feel quite as uncomfortable as it could be. You’re just thankful he’s decided to talk to you, but you also don’t want to scare him away.
“How was the tour?” you ask him when the silence stretches for longer than it needs to.
“It was great,” Jungkook replies. “I’m glad it’s over though. Touring is exhausting.”
“I bet. It’s a lot of travelling.”
He makes a non-committal sound, and silence resumes around you, only interrupted by the sound of the wind and the waves. You think it might even be raining a little, but Jungkook isn’t moving, so you stay seated on your towel.
“How have you been?” he asks, and you glance at him.
He’s already looking your way, and your gazes connect in an embrace you got used to last year.
More than a year ago, actually. The summer before his tour, when you were slowly falling in love unaware of what was going to come.
You’d give a lot to reconnect with the innocence of those days. With the excitement they carried, like you were young and infinite and nothing would ever take you down. How wrong were you.
“It’s been hard,” you admit, because you can’t lie to him when you’re looking into those doe eyes. “But I’ve been healing. I’m not as dependent on meds as I was initially.”
“I’m happy for you.”
He sounds genuine, yet there’s sadness in his gaze. Or maybe it’s nostalgia. Maybe he too is remembering the months of you and him falling in love despite his busy schedule.
“What about you?” you ask. “How have you been?”
He clenches his jaw. A muscle feathers under his skin, and his chest goes up and down as he takes a big breath. “I’ve been slowly getting better.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, and his gaze moves to the ocean. “Tried therapy, like you suggested I should. But the schedule was too hard to sustain with the tour.”
You scan his profile, try to read the lines of his face like you did before, but he’s changed. So much. He’s… gotten big over the months apart, gaining his weight back and then some. But he seems more serious than he used to be. Like he’s always deep in thought, which you reckon might be the case when you’re around.
You’re practically exes after all.
“But I found ways to get my mind off things,” he adds. “It’s been working well.”
“I’m glad,” you gently say.
He chuckles, his head hanging low as he stares at the sand in front of his feet. There’s something condescending in that chuckle – it’s unlike the one from earlier, and you can’t help the way a frown slowly overtakes your features.
“What’s funny?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
The frown remains as you look out at the sea, and a fat drop of water lands on your knee. You look at it, wiping it absentmindedly.
“It’s raining,” you let out.
“Yeah.”
But still he doesn’t move, so still you don’t, either.
“What helped you with healing?” Jungkook asks.
Not expecting the question, your frown falls.
“I think it’s mostly the distance,” you admit. “Being so far from what happened, physically, helped. And then the support that my parents gave me, and the therapy. Things like that. But also just… time helped.”
“It hasn’t even been a year,” he states.
“It’ll be a year next month.” You worry at your bottom lip, because the way he said it makes you think of the guilt you feel around your trauma. Around the fact you’re not as traumatized as you believe you should be. But trauma works in mysterious ways, like your therapist said. It’s better to be thankful about it than resentful that you weren’t more affected by what happened.
Though you reckon the anxiety has been a lot to deal with. And you haven’t been able to be alone outside at night since then, but it’s not like you actually needed to. The true test will come when the sun will be setting way too early in the months to come.
Only then will you see if you’ve truly healed as much as you tell yourself you have.
“I’m glad you’ve been better,” Jungkook eventually says. “That it… didn’t leave a lasting impression on you.”
He says it awkwardly, and you throw him a look, the corners of your lips curved upwards. “That it didn’t traumatize me too much?” you ask.
He winces, meeting your gaze for half a heartbeat before he’s looking at the sand again. “Yeah, kind of.”
You chuckle. “Yeah, I’m glad too. I’m lucky I didn’t develop PTSD.”
Jungkook meets your gaze again, though he shies away from it just as fast as a few more drops of rain fall around you, creating tiny craters in the sand.
“You are,” Jungkook agrees. He finds a small rock in the sand, and he throws it in the water.
“And what about you? What helped you?” you ask when the conversation stagnates there.
“I don’t think you want to know,” he replies, mysteriously, and he throws another rock.
It fully starts raining then, but it’s been so hot and humid today that it just feels refreshing.
“Well, I asked the question, didn’t I?” you tease, but he doesn’t even crack a smile. You frown, and then add, “What, you went for sex and drugs?”
He throws you a look that makes you want to disappear, the truth written all over his face.
“Ah,” you let out, your heart dropping in your chest.
“Not drugs.” Another rock thrown at the sea. “Just sex.”
He was right, you did not want to know.
You get up, grabbing your towel as the rain doubles up, turning into an aggressive shower.
“Told you,” he says bitterly as he remains seated.
“I’m glad you’ve been fucking,” you say, a lump forming in your throat.
You don’t even know why. You were the one to want to break up, if you can even call it that. He was allowed to seek sex with whoever he wanted after that.
“Yeah, me too,” he replies. He pushes up, meeting your gaze as you just stand there, clutching your towel to your chest. “It was meaningless.”
“I don’t really care.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
You glance at the waves, at the dark clouds and the lightning streak that cuts across the sky before a loud boom resonates around you, made louder by the echo on the sea.
“I thought we were having a conversation,” you say, and you push your hair back.
The rain is pebbling at your skin by then, so strong it feels like you’re standing under a pressure hose.
“We were,” Jungkook says.
“Okay.”
You turn around, and you start walking up the beach towards the villa. Jungkook stops you, grabbing your wrist. The feeling of his fingers on your skin makes lightning skitter up your arm, much like it skitters through the clouds.
“We need to get in,” you practically yell as you turn around. “It’s not safe out here.”
“Don’t be upset,” Jungkook says, ignoring what you just said. “It was just sex.”
“I got it, no need to repeat it.” You attempt to walk up to the villa again, but Jungkook stops you again, making you stumble closer to him.
“Why are you upset?” he asks.
You aren’t. Or at least you wish you weren’t. But you’re crying, your tears mingling with the rain, and you wish you’d be anywhere on Earth right now rather than next to him.
“I’m not,” you still choose to say. “It’s just fucking weird to talk about that!”
“You’re the one that asked!”
You’re both yelling now, partly because of the loudness of the storm, but also because of the emotions lashing at your hearts.
“I did not think that would be your answer, okay? You made it seem like you weren’t going to be able to move on. I’m just surprised you moved on so fast.”
You haven’t even been able to consider sex with anyone else, and you were the one to decide to end things.
“So you haven’t been fucking other people?” Jungkook throws back at you.
“No?” you yell. “I’ve been healing, not trying to avoid healthy coping mechanisms.”
Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back. It reveals the tall column of his neck, and you remember days of sucking on his Adam’s apple.
“That’s rich coming from you,” he says. “You just ran and pushed away everything that reminded you of November.”
“Maybe I pushed you away because you fucking lied to me to see your ex, huh? Ever stopped to think about that?”
“I apologized a hundred times for it,” he says, so low it sounds like a growl. “I’ve hated myself for it ever since it happened, and you didn’t even give me the grace to listen. You just ran like a coward.”
“Don’t call me a coward when I’m the only one that did the work to try and heal,” you spit back at him. “I did not use sex as a getaway. I did my therapy, did my homework.”
“Try to go on tour when the person you’re in love with gets assaulted and then dumps you. We’ll see how well you’ll cope.”
He’s stepped closer. He’s looming over you, water dropping from the wet strands of hair in front of his eyes. It falls on your face, but you stand your ground.
“I bet I’ll cope better than you did,” you snarl. “You’re so fucking upset about it months later. Clearly the sex did not –”
Jungkook is upon you. His hands cup your cheek, pulling you into an angry kiss, and you freeze for a few seconds, eyes wide open before you push him back hard. He stumbles a step back, his shoulders going up and down rapidly, and you just stare at him for a few heartbeats as thunder rumbles in the sky above. Then you turn around, storming towards the villa.
He doesn’t stop you this time. When you reach the deck, you glance over your shoulder to see he’s still standing out there on the beach, rain lashing at him.
He’s not looking at you, so you walk into the villa without another glance back.
Thursday, October 8th
The storm from yesterday turned into rain that kept on well into the night.
When Jimin woke Jungkook up from his nightmare earlier, Jungkook knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep even though the sun hadn't risen yet. So he told Jimin that he’d just get a glass of water, but he’s on his second glass of whiskey now, sitting in the living room of the villa, watching the TV on mute.
He doesn’t care for the show on the screen. He feels sick, and he knows it’s because he fought with you earlier. He can hardly believe the things he told you in the heat of the moment, and he’s been considering booking a flight and leaving before you get up just to avoid having to face you.
When he walked into the villa after you did yesterday, you were already locked up in your room, and Jennie and Heryung were glaring at him. So he went and locked himself up in the bedroom he shares with Jimin, too. He didn’t even go out for dinner, Jimin bringing some food back from the dining hall for him instead.
He barely even ate. Didn’t even reply to Jimin when he asked what happened between you and him. He couldn’t talk when all he could think about was you, and how he just majorly fucked up.
He’d meant to try and talk to you, to test the waters and see if there was a possibility you could reconnect. But there’s a world of differences between you and him now, and when you said you’d healed and moved on like it was nothing, Jungkook took it personal.
Because he didn’t. He never did. It’s still all about you after all this time. Even the fucking – it’s just to escape all the thoughts of you. And he got so jealous that you were doing genuinely better…
He’s a horrible fucking person.
But he thought about you all night last night, as he was editing some songs he’s been working on. You were on his mind when he went to bed at the same time as Jimin did, if only because he didn’t want to bother Jimin. So it’s no wonder the nightmare caught up to him, no wonder he was thrashing in the sheets so hard he punched Jimin in the face.
Jimin was pissed, too sleepy to truly understand what was going on, so Jungkook got up.
He stares at the ice at the bottom of his glass, twirling it. It clinks on the sides of the glass, the amber liquid sloshing around. He takes a sip, and the whiskey burns on the way down, but it doesn’t do anything to the rawness he feels in his throat and in his lungs, like he was screaming in his sleep.
He doesn’t usually scream when he has the nightmares. But maybe, after fighting with you…
He shuts his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and leans back against the couch. He’s such a fucking mess. It’s embarrassing, really.
He hears the scuffle of feet on the ground, and he straightens, looking over the back of the couch to see you appear in the arch that separates the living room from the hallway. You catch sight of him, your eyes going round, and you make to retreat.
“Y/n,” he calls your name, his heartbeat skyrocketing at the sight of you.
Of you, safe and sound and breathing, with no blood tainting the white t-shirt you’re wearing.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” he adds quickly.
You still, halfway turned. And then you glance at him, and he wishes he could read your features like he did back then. But you’re closed off now.
He deserves it.
“What are you sorry about?” you ask, your voice colder than the ice in his glass.
“I did not mean what I said,” he explains. “I was just jealous.”
You frown, and you face him fully again, folding your arms on your chest. “You were jealous?”
He nods, sucking on his piercings. And you seem to believe him, because you walk into the living room, sitting at the end of the couch, so far away from him it feels like the Pacific lies between you and him.
“I’ve been miserable,” he admits. “I haven’t really gotten better. It just… it hurt to see you were doing better. That you healed. When I’m still stuck back then.”
He hasn’t told anyone this before. He blames it on the fact he’s exhausted, it’s the middle of the night, and he’s two drinks in already. But your frown falls as he talks, replaced by pity. He hates it, prefers the frown over the pity, but it’s too late.
The truth is out.
“You really need therapy,” you whisper.
He glances at the TV, and at the ad on the screen that makes no sense without sound on.
“I know,” he replies. “I’m planning on starting again soon now that the tour is over.”
He wasn’t, actually. But after that fight with you, he figured he needed it. And you are right – he needs to stop pursuing unhealthy coping mechanisms like sex, no matter how much it helps. Because it only helps for a few minutes before reality settles back in.
“That’s… good.”
You don’t say much more, and he doubts he deserves more anyway. Not after what happened yesterday.
You both sit in silence for a minute or two, and Jungkook finishes his whiskey, putting it down on the coffee table in front of him. And then, unable to resist, he glances at you. You’re staring at the TV, but you meet his gaze when you feel his eyes on your profile.
“Why are you up so early?” he asks.
You wet your lips, turning your head back towards the TV again. “Couldn’t sleep. I…” You glance at him, and he balks at the silver in your gaze. He wants to reach out, to dry your tears, but then your next words make him freeze. “You were screaming.”
Ah. So that indeed explains the rawness in his throat. He faces forward, unable to hold your gaze anymore.
“Sorry about that.”
“You still have nightmares?” you ask.
The TV blurs, and he blinks away the tears. “I told you. I haven’t really gotten better.”
“Jungkook…”
A tear rolls on his cheeks, and he does nothing to dry it. “I still dream about it every night.”
Except when he just fucked, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, not when it led to that fight yesterday.
“There are meds for that,” you gently say.
He knows. He knows, because you told him about them last February. But he never got around to seeking to get them prescribed. Not when the only place he could visit you was in his dreams.
“You don’t need to pretend to be strong and that you don’t need those meds,” you add, as if that is the reason as to why he doesn’t want them. “They would help you.”
“You know what helps?” he lets out, meeting your gaze.
You don’t say anything, just give him a small nod of your head.
“It helps to see you,” he says. “To know you’re doing great, and that you’re healing. That I’m the only one stuck back in that alley. It doesn’t seem like it’s helping right now, I know, but it will help.”
He hears you take a sharp inhale of breath, and then you’re getting up, sitting back down right next to him on the couch. You’re so close he can see your eyes shine as you blink away the wetness gathering in them.
“And I’m doing great because of therapy… Therapy really does help, Jungkook.”
He shuts his eyes for a few seconds before looking at you again. “Listen, I don’t want to think about therapy right now. Let me just look at you for a moment.”
You gulp, nodding your head once more. Giving him permission to stare unashamedly, and he does. He looks at you, remembering days where such a look between the two of you would lead to you straddling his lap and kissing him like your life depended on it. It’s strange to believe that such passion came and went, that you won’t ever share a moment like that again when he still feels that pull for you so deep in his chest.
“You’re alive,” Jungkook whispers.
He doesn’t know where the words come from. They came on their own, fell from his lips without him realizing he was going to talk, and you smile, your eyes so sad, grabbing his hand. You put it on your chest, between your breasts, and he feels every single of your heartbeats under his palm.
“I’m alive,” you confirm. “I’m alive and safe.” Your smile grows a little larger as you hold his hand in place. “And I’ve been taking self-defense classes, too.”
He glances between your two eyes a few times. You’re so close he sees the pores under your eyes, on your cheeks and on your nose. They look so perfect in the white cast from the TV, so natural, and he reaches forward with his free hand, brushing his fingers on your cheeks.
“You have?” he murmurs.
You nod. “I can defend myself now. My mother took the classes with me, and we both can beat ass now.”
He smiles. He remembers your mother – she was a saint, a gentle soul that he immediately liked, and he’s happy that she’s been there for you like she has.
You have an amazing mother.
“That’s great.” And he means it. It must have helped so much with you feeling safer after what happened to you.
“It really is.”
You fall silent, and your gaze drops to his lips as he plays with his piercings. You furrow your brow, like you’re upset about it, and you let go of his hand. He pulls it back, though he still feels your warmth on his palm when he drops his hand in his lap.
The small frown sticks on your features though, and he wishes he could erase it. Wishes he could see you smile again, hear you laugh again.
That would help with the nightmares, too. But it’s too much to ask for, isn’t it?
“What else have you been up to?” he asks.
The frown thankfully dissolves, and you tilt your head, leaning it against the couch as you look at him. “Not much, honestly. I’ve been reading a lot, but I haven’t written since before everything went down.”
“Do you still want to write?” he asks.
You look away, eyes glossing over as you get lost in thought. “I think so. I might do a fantasy series next.”
“A series?” he lets out.
You nod, meeting his gaze again. “Yeah.”
“That’s a lot of commitment.”
“It is,” you agree. “And honestly, I just have the basis of a setting so far, so I don’t even know if I’ll ever get around to it one day. I don’t even know if I have what it takes to write fantasy.”
“Why not?”
You pout, scrunching your nose up. “I feel like fantasy takes so much more work than romance, or even mafia stories. Since you have to create a whole new world, and give magic laws to it and all.”
“You don’t necessarily have to create a whole new world, no? Twilight was not in a whole new world.”
You snort at his reference, and the sound wraps around his heart, warming it gently. “Yeah, contemporary fantasy is a thing. But I just… I really don’t know if I’d be able to write it. I usually do romance, and even my last book was far from my usual style.”
Jungkook knows. He saw the comments about it all over your social page.
“And why don’t you write your usual style?”
You sigh, and it sounds heavy, resigned. “I think I’ve lost my interest in romance.”
He hates the way his heart breaks at hearing you say that. You used to talk about it with stars in your eyes, but after everything you went through… He understands why romance might not be of interest to you anymore.
“That’s unfortunate,” he replies.
You shrug. “Honestly, it started way before…” you trail off, making a vague encompassing gesture with your hands. “That’s why I was writing a mafia story. To have more than just the romance aspect, you know?”
He nods.
“And I think maybe I could do that with fantasy, too,” you continue. “I used to read it a lot as a kid, and I’ve been rereading some of my favourite series lately and I just feel like it could be fun to write it, too.”
“Then you should,” Jungkook encourages you. “I’ll read it.”
You chuckle. “You don’t read.”
“I promised I’d read your books, though,” he points out with a smile. “I meant it.”
He did. He promised in February, and he bought all of your books and carries them with him everywhere. He just hasn’t gotten around to reading them yet.
He didn’t feel ready. But he reckons, after tonight, maybe he’ll finally be ready.
“Well then, I’ll put easter eggs in there for you to find,” you tease. “I’ll quiz you about them to make sure you really read.”
You’re talking of a future. A future in which you and him are… in good terms enough for you to quiz him about your books. And maybe such a future could be possible. Not one where your lovers like you were before, but maybe…
Maybe you could be friends. Jungkook reckons he would love that.
“Hopefully, the easter eggs will translate in Korean,” he says with a wince. “I don’t think my English is good enough for that.”
“What do you mean?” you say, eyes widening in surprise. “Your English is amazing.”
“Thanks.” He chuckles, wetting his lips. “I can speak just fine, I’m aware, but reading? I don’t even read in Korean.”
You laugh. It’s a clear sound that takes him way back, that reminds him of how awkward he used to be around you. Hell, he could barely even hold your gaze at the beginning, like his body already knew to expect pain when it came to you.
Maybe he was trying to protect himself instinctively.
But hearing you laugh tonight, after the fight you had yesterday… It’s so fucking healing he could cry. And he almost does, silver growing on his waterline, but he’s quick to blink it away. He doesn’t even think you notice, especially not when he’s smiling when you meet his gaze next.
“I am touched you’re going to read my books, then,” you say. “I feel special.”
You are. You are so fucking special. The one that got away, and all that.
“Can I show you something?” he asks out of the blue.
He’ll serve you his soul on a platter tonight. It feels like the night for it – he can see it in the wrinkles around your eyes as you smile.
“Yeah,” you say.
He can’t resist his own smile, and then he’s getting up, heading to his room. He sneaks in, making sure not to wake Jimin again, and he grabs his laptop and headset where he left them earlier. And then he walks back to the living room, finding you sitting with your knees to your chest in the spot where he left you.
He sits back down next to you, opening his laptop. You watch curiously, and then he hands you the headset. You take it, furrowing your eyebrows.
“What do you want to show me?” you ask.
“I’ve been writing some songs,” he says. “I’ve spent the last two weeks recording some of them. It’s not much but…” He only realizes then how naked he’s about to be in front of you. But it’s 4:44 am, and it’s the perfect moment for it. Because he’ll probably never have the occasion in the future. “I want to know what you think of them.”
You nod, giving him a small smile as you put the headset on. It’s too big for you, and Jungkook chuckles, helping you to adjust it to a smaller setting before he looks at his laptop again.
This music… It's different from what he’s done before. It’s guitar and voice only, with no drums even though he’s famous for being a drummer. He doesn’t know yet if he’ll ever release it, but it needed an out over the last few months.
Writing and music are better coping mechanisms than sex, he reckons. Maybe he should have led with that yesterday instead. It would have saved you both the fight in the rain. And saved him the embarrassment of trying to kiss you only for you to walk away.
He pushes the thought away, not wanting to think about that fight anymore. Not when you’re right next to him, about to listen to music he wrote about the months with you.
About the months after you, too.
He starts the first song, and he watches the timer advancing on it, unable to look at you. No, he feels self-conscious suddenly, like he truly is naked in front of you, and he’s afraid of what you’ll think.
What if you get mad at him again? What if he lost you so thoroughly that hearing those songs makes you run?
But it’s too late to go back now, and when the first song finishes, he says, “There are three more, if you want to–”
“Yes,” you interject before he’s even finished talking. “I want to.”
He chuckles, and it sounds a little choked from the lump in his throat. You don’t seem to notice, too busy waiting for him to start the second song.
You’re crying by the time that one ends.
“You don’t have to listen to the rest,” Jungkook says, slightly alarmed. He looks around, trying to find tissues, but there’s nothing to dry your tears.
“Put the next one on,” you insist.
He feels like crying, too, but he obeys, pressing play on the next file. That one makes you smile, but tears still roll down your cheeks. You dry them with the back of your hands, and Jungkook just watches you carefully.
“The fourth…”
“Jungkook, just play the song,” you admonish, and he laughs, pressing play.
When the song ends, you take off the headset, putting it down on the coffee table. Jungkook watches you, waits for you to say something, and you just wipe your cheeks in silence before chuckling.
“Those songs are beautiful,” you say, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t know you played the guitar.”
He gulps around the lump in his throat. “Why do you think I have guitars at home?”
“I don’t know, in case some of the other members of your group would want to record at your place.”
He shakes his head. “No, I play all the instruments I own,” he says with a small laugh. “You really think the songs are beautiful?”
You point to your face. “My crying didn’t make it obvious?”
He takes a deep breath. “Well, you could be crying because it’s horrible,” he points out. “I used to cry when people would scratch their nails on the chalkboard in school.”
“You’re an idiot,” you let out. “A fucking idiot.”
It does not sound like an insult. It sounds like some other words he would have loved to hear in another life.
He wrote a song about it. You listened to it, and called it beautiful, and you’re looking at him with so much admiration in your eyes he reckons it doesn’t matter if he never hears it in this life.
In this life, he got to experience a love so strong it didn’t change through the months apart. A love so strong it doesn’t need to be reciprocated for him to cradle it in his heart. Though it might be sad that he lost it, and didn’t get to share it with you, that love is the most beautiful thing he’s ever experienced, and he’ll always be thankful that he got to experience it with you.
It hurt. It really fucking did, but tonight, sitting next to you, it doesn’t hurt quite as much anymore.
“So you like them?” he asks.
“I’ve always loved your voice,” you reply. “With just a guitar track like this, it really shows it… better? Your fans are going to love this. Bet it’ll make its way to a lot of crying sesh playlists.”
“Ah,” he lets out as he scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks burning. “I am not planning to release any of this.”
“Why not?” you ask. “It’s beautiful, Jungkook. The world deserves to hear it.”
“But it’s…” He holds your gaze, once again gulps around that stupid lump in his throat. “It’s too personal. I don’t know that I want everyone in the world to know how I feel, you know?”
Your eyes turn sad, and you reach up, thumb drying a tear he didn’t realize had spilled on his cheek. “You’d be surprised at the amount of people that can relate to this.” Your lips stretch in a smile that holds the weight of the universe. “Heartbreak is one of the most universal things there is. Love and heartbreak are.”
You’re right. Of course you are.
“You really think I should release it?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Definitely. I know listening to it will be good inspiration for me to write, if I ever start writing again.”
“What about this? I’ll release it if you promise to start writing again,” he suggests.
You chuckle. “Well, it’s a given that I’ll write again some day,” you point out. “So you better release this soon.”
Fuck.
“Right.” He chuckles, slightly shaking his head in defeat. “Well, I guess I will have to release it when it’s ready then.”
You smile victoriously, your eyes shining like they used to last year and you’re so fucking beautiful it steals the breath from his lungs. “Bet.”
He’d kiss you. He’d kiss you right now, but he knows he can’t. Not anymore. And though it does hurt to think that he won’t get to love you in this life like he spent so long wishing for, he feels at peace with it.
Healing really did start here tonight, by your side. Because it was always about you, after all.
Friday, October 9th
The reception hall for the party is beautiful. Lavishly decorated, and as you stepped in earlier, you wondered if Taehyung and Jennie are actually getting married today, or if it really is just a party to celebrate their engagement.
You’ve never seen people go all out like this for an engagement, but Jennie is your only celebrity friend. Maybe they just do it differently. Or maybe she’s just extra.
You think it has to be the latter.
The room is decorated with flowers that scream tropical island, with large petals glowing from red to orange to yellow, and their perfume is gentle and sweet, floating throughout the room. There are strings of fairy lights hung to the ceiling, with colourful garlands entwined, and there’s a huge table with a mountain of food in a corner.
Most of all, the room has no walls, and the breeze dances amongst the guests, playing with your hair and your dress as it blows. Tall vases with dark green leaves also decorate the space, and you’ve seen more than one of them almost falling, though so far none have been destroyed.
You think it’s just a matter of time. With the champagne fountain next to the food table, people are bound to get drunk. Especially when they play bangers after bangers, and everyone is on the dancefloor, smiling and singing and dancing like there is no tomorrow.
The night feels infinite. You feel young, restless, and though you did dance for a while, you’ve just been sitting with Minha and Minji for almost an hour as they chat away about their jobs back home.
Turns out they’re colleagues, so you’ve been feeling a little left out of the conversation, but it doesn’t matter.
No, your spirits have been high since yesterday. Since you woke up on the couch, your head in Jungkook’s lap while he snored with his head leaned back. It looked uncomfortable, yet he pretended his neck was fine when he woke up, but you’ve noticed him rubbing it multiple times since then. Not that you told him. Because it would mean admitting you’ve been staring, and you don’t know if you’re there yet.
You talked until the sun was rising that morning. In truth, you don’t even remember falling asleep. The conversation flowed easily between the two of you, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up with his hand lost in your hair.
For a moment, you pretended you weren’t awake, but then you caught sight of Jennie staring at you with her mouth hanging open, and you snorted and sat up, which in turn woke Jungkook up.
There has been a full truce between you and Jungkook since then. You haven’t had a chance to be alone once more, but it’s not like you tried either. You’ve just been enjoying the familiar camaraderie, the easiness of talking to him like no time has passed.
Sometimes, you really do find yourself staring, just because he has grown so much more handsome than you remembered him to be. And sometimes, he catches your gaze. Holds it hostage, like it’s his to keep forever. You like to tell yourself it is, even though you’re aware that that time has come and gone a long time ago.
You’re not foolish enough to believe you and Jungkook would work now. Not with the baggage you both carry. But here, on this paradise of an island, you like to pretend nothing ever happened. That you just picked up the book where you left it off, and it really does feel like it.
There’s no animosity left. Just stolen glances and careful touches. Just some shy laughs and short conversations while you’re in a group.
He hasn’t tried to be alone with you again. And you’re glad he hasn’t pushed his luck – you doubt the universe is kind enough to let you be close to him like that again without it ripping your heart from your chest.
You tried once, and it didn’t work. You won’t risk it again.
“Stop staring and go talk to him,” Minji says in Korean, startling you.
You look away from Jungkook, who looks amazing in his pale suit. Your gaze trails to Minji instead, who has a knowing smile on her lips.
“I don’t know,” you reply, your cheeks burning from being caught. And then you try your luck with your broken Korean, saying, “I don’t want to push it.”
“Push it?” Minha says from the other side of Minji. “I’m sure he’s just been waiting for it.”
You gulp, glancing back towards Jungkook. You catch him looking then, and he tilts his head to the side with a soft smile that takes you way back.
Way back to the months of summer last year, when you were falling in love.
You smile back, and then you look down at the empty glass of champagne you’ve been holding for the good part of the last hour.
“You think?” you let out, and you lean forward to glance at Minha.
She has her hand on her belly, and she rubs it mindlessly, nodding her head. “Go talk to him. Put him out of his misery.”
You chuckle, and then you nod. “Okay, okay. I will.”
“Have fun!” Minji says as you get up, and you give the two girls a thumbs up before you head to the champagne fountain.
You grab a new glass, taking a sip of the rich, bubbly liquid, hoping for it to give you liquid courage. But it seems you don’t need it.
Indeed, Jungkook stops next to you, his tattooed hand reaching for a glass of his own. He holds it up in the space between you and him, and you can’t hold your smile in as you clink glasses, taking another sip.
“What do you think of–” He motions around – “all of this?”
“It’s lavish,” you reply as you scan the room.
Jennie is looking your way, and she gives you a wink before bursting out laughing as Taehyung pulls her to him.
“Lavish,” Jungkook repeats pensively, and then he chuckles. “That’s one way to put it.”
You nod. “I wonder what the wedding will look like if that’s the engagement party.”
“Honestly, I think they’ll elope.” Jungkook takes a sip of champagne. “Like I’m ninety-five percent sure.”
“Oh?” you let out, and you glance at Jennie and Taehyung again. At the way they’re swaying side to side, foreheads touching, so out of beat they stick out like sore thumbs from the dancing crowd. And you see it – you would not even be surprised if they revealed they’re already married. “You know what, that would make sense.”
“I know, right!” Jungkook seems enthused that you agree with him, and he adds, “They even got the extended family to come. It has to be because they are not planning to get married in front of anyone that’s here tonight.”
“Good for them,” you say.
Jungkook nods with a laugh, clinking his glass with yours again before you drink.
“Though,” he lets out once he’s swallowed. “They might just do a small ceremony back home. Weddings in Korea aren’t as intense as American ones are.”
“You don’t usually do receptions, do you?” you ask, even if you know they don’t.
“Some people do, but it’s rare,” Jungkook answers. “Take Seokjin and Minha, for example. They got married in a tiny church, and then we all had dinner at a restaurant together and they went home.”
“That sounds boring.”
Jungkook lets out a small laugh. “What? You want a big reception and the whole thing?”
You nod, meeting his gaze for half a heartbeat before you resume your attention on the dancing crowd. “If I ever get married one day, I want to be a princess for the day.”
“Yeah?”
Another enthusiastic nod. “I want a lot of flowers like this, I want the dress and the dancing. I just think…” you trail off, falling more serious. “It’s a beautiful celebration of love, and love deserves to be celebrated.”
Jungkook is staring at your profile when you glance at him again, and you feel shy under the scrutiny of his gaze, so you evade it, glancing at the bubbles in your glass of champagne.
“It does,” Jungkook agrees, his voice low.
You barely hear him over the music, and it feels intimate somehow. It only makes your cheeks burn brighter than you’re sure they already are. But you do have a good foundation on – hopefully it covers the redness.
“What about you?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything else.
Jungkook doesn’t look away from your profile when he says, “It’ll be up to my fiancee to decide what she wants.”
You gulp, meeting his intense gaze for a heartbeat before you’re looking at the dancefloor once more. “You want to get married?”
Jungkook finally looks away, and you take your first full breath in a minute. He doesn’t seem to notice your unease, just saying, “I think so. If I fall in love again, I want it to be the real thing.”
It hurts. It hurts to consider he might love someone else one day. That you might too. That what you held in your hearts will truly be something of days past one day.
Though… it already is, isn’t it?
“You deserve it,” you reply, voice soft.
Jungkook doesn’t say anything to that. He just nods, draining the rest of his champagne. You follow suit, mostly to hide the pain and nostalgia that grabbed ahold of you.
“Do you want to dance?” he asks then, and it’s a vague echo of something he once asked you, at an afterparty when you still believed he hated you.
You look at his extended hand, and meet his doe eyes. There’s a hint of nostalgia in there, and you really can’t say no.
“Don’t complain if I crush your feet,” you tease, but you interlace your fingers with his, letting him guide you towards the dancefloor.
He does so by walking backwards, his eyes never leaving yours. “I remember you being a good dancer, Y/n,” he says. “You won’t step on my feet.”
You’re surprised he remembers. You’ve only danced with him once or twice before. But then again, Jungkook seems to remember a lot of things when it comes to you.
Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you anymore.
Bad Bunny is playing as you reach the dancefloor, and Jungkook leads you into a simple bachata. It’s fun as he holds your hands, and you can’t look away from his big eyes as he looks down at you, grinning.
Fuck.
It’s like you get stabbed in the chest. Because he looks so happy like this, so carefree. So different from how you found him yesterday morning. He looked haunted then. Grieving, even. But now… now he looks like the weight of the world was taken off his shoulders. He’s even more beautiful like this, and you hope he’ll never lose his spark again.
Jeon Jungkook is the kind of person that’s meant to glow. To shine brightly, to outshine everyone in a room. You hope nothing ever puts a damper on him anymore.
As the Bad Bunny song comes to its end, replaced by a slower rhythm, Jungkook pulls you closer, hands falling to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers mindlessly toying with the short hair at the back of his head.
It’s just as soft as you remember it to be. Maybe even softer, like he’s been using some oil to make it feel like silk.
“You’re beautiful tonight,” Jungkook whispers as you move in slow circles.
The room has faded around you, like you’re standing alone on the dancefloor.
“Thank you,” you whisper back, cheeks burning with blush.
“This pink is a good colour on you,” he adds.
You wet your lips. “It matches the flowers!”
Indeed, you noticed earlier, taking a picture that will surely make its way on your Instagram some time tomorrow while you’re waiting for your flight at the airport.
Jungkook chuckles, his eyes sparkling. “It does. But you eclipse all of them.”
You roll your eyes, but your lips still curve upwards. “You’re cheesy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You’d expected him to deny, so his reply surprises you, making you snort. His smile grows wider, the dimples in his cheeks appearing, and for a moment, you just wish you could kiss him, right here on the dancefloor. Wish you could say fuck it with the past and start again like nothing ever happened.
You wish it was so simple.
“When are you going home?” Jungkook asks.
“Tomorrow afternoon,” you admit.
His grin decreases, and you don’t miss the flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Already? Everyone is staying for a few more days.”
“I know.” But you have a family event at the beginning of next week, even though you insisted on having it next weekend instead. “But I can’t stay longer.” You take a deep breath, offering him a smile you hope is comforting. “That means you and Jimin won’t have to share a bed anymore.”
Jimin, who’s been complaining of his nose hurting ever since yesterday morning. Apparently, Jungkook punched him in his sleep while he was having his nightmare.
“Oh, true,” Jungkook lets out, but he does not look too happy at the perspective of having a bed for himself.
The sparkle in his eyes is lesser. You hate it, wish you could bring it back, yet you feel like it might be better like this.
You and Jeon Jungkook are not meant to be together anyway.
You purse your lips, only then realizing that you haven’t been following the music anymore. Maybe because the song ended, and this one is more upbeat.
You catch Jennie’s mother looking at you, and you feel like you need air for a time.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” you suggest.
Jungkook seems to like the idea, a small smile growing on his lips. “Yeah, I could use a breather. It’s getting hot in here.”
It hasn’t really, at least not in your opinion, but you’re wearing a summer dress while he’s wearing a suit, and you know he’s always the type to be warm anyway.
So you head outside, following the walkpath that leads towards the beach. The waves replace the sound of the music the further you get from the reception hall, and soon you’re kicking off your heels, holding them in one hand as you step into the cold sand.
Jungkook takes a moment longer to remove his dress shoes and socks, and then he’s following you onto the beach.
The sky is moonless tonight. Dotted with an infinity of tiny pinpricks of light, stars shining on and on overhead. It reminds you of the night sky in Jeju last year. It’s peaceful, so, so peaceful, and you wonder if you’ll find a swing again tonight.
“Wow,” Jungkook lets out as he looks up at the sky. “The stars are shining tonight.”
You nod, gazing up. “It’s beautiful.”
“Doesn’t it remind you of Jeju?” he asks.
You’ve gotten closer to where the waves reach up on the shore, and you stop, glancing at Jungkook. You wonder if he can read the nostalgia in your gaze as much as you read it in his.
“It does.” You stare at the stars, emotions swirling in your chest, toying with your heart. “I wonder if we’ll be lucky enough to see some shooting stars.”
“You want to make a wish tonight?”
You glance at him. “Don’t you?”
He just holds your gaze. Doesn’t say anything, but it’s written all over his face. You think it’s written all over yours too, and it’s dangerous. Too dangerous. So you turn and start walking towards the horizon, stopping a few steps away when he doesn’t follow you.
You look over your shoulder to see him still staring at you. “Are you coming?”
He plays with his piercings, and then lets out a small disbelieving chuckle before following you. It makes you smile softly, your heartbeat racing in your chest. You wait for him to catch up to you, and then you’re walking along the shore, eyes cast on the spot in the distance where sky, beach and sea meet.
“Are you cold?” Jungkook asks a little while later, after you’ve walked in silence for a couple of minutes.
You glance at him, chuckling. “A little. It’s way colder at night than during the day, isn’t it?”
He bends down, dropping his shoes in the sand before he straightens, removing his jacket. He puts it on your shoulders, making sure it’s secure before he bends down again to retrieve his shoes.
It’s cheesy. Cheesy and romantic and it makes you feel way too many emotions towards the man at your side. You shove them away, remind them that it’s impossible, yet you’re still smiling dumbly as you resume your walk.
“Thanks,” you tell Jungkook.
He’s adjusting the sleeves of his satin shirt. They’re wrinkled from being stuck in his jacket, and he mindlessly tries to flatten them as he shoots a glance your way.
“Don’t mention it.”
You nod, scrunching your nose up, and then you’re just staring ahead again, seeing Jungkook struggle with his sleeves in the corner of your gaze.
“Do you need help with that?” you ask when it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fix his sleeves on his own.
He chuckles. “Yeah, please.”
You step closer to him, handing him your heels before you start fixing his sleeve. He’s looking at you as you do it, and you focus on the sleeves and the sleeves only, refusing to look up and meet his gaze right now.
He’s too close. You don’t know if you’d survive.
You clear your throat as you finish up, and then you take a step back, grabbing your heels from his hands again. He’s just watching you, and you meet his gaze, gulping.
“What?”
He shakes his head slightly. “Nothing.”
You know there is something. But you also know you can’t afford to ask about it, not when your resolve is dissolving faster than ice cream melts in the summer. So you just resume your walk, shortly reaching the sign that separates the private resort beach to the public one. There’s no one there tonight, yet you still turn around.
You can’t afford to be seen together, not after everything that happened.
“How are you feeling?” Jungkook asks when you’re on your way back to the resort.
You glance at him, meet his gaze for a few seconds. “I wish I was staying longer.”
It’s as much truth as you dare give him
“Me too.”
There’s a lump in your throat, and you swallow around it with a small cough.
“I’m glad we’re spending time like this together,” he admits, and you throw him another look. But he’s not done, adding, “I’m really sorry we fought the other day.”
“Oh, Jungkook,” you let out. “You really don’t have to apologize for that.”
Especially not when it makes you think of why you fought in the first place, and you remember what he said about hooking up. It douses the feelings that were treacherously distracting you, though, and you internally thank your stars, along with those above.
You were way too close to making a mistake as it was.
“I really do, though,” he insists. “But thank you for saying I don’t.”
You don’t know what to say to that, so you choose to remain silent as you keep on walking, the cold sand and the soft breeze your only companions for a time.
Beside the man next to you, that is.
Jungkook only speaks up again when you see the first villa some time later. “We’re already back.”
“Yeah.” You wet your lips, trying to pretend you didn’t hear the disappointment in his voice. “The beach isn’t too big.”
“Right,” he lets out.
You throw him a glance. “Let’s go back to the party?”
He looks down. “I’ll have to wash my feet before I can put my socks back on.”
“Oof, yeah.” You chuckle. “That would be a sensory nightmare.”
“Yeah.”
So you follow him towards your villa, and you both try to brush the sand off your feet once you’re on the deck. The outside shower seems very uninviting in the dark, especially with the spider that’s lurking in the corner, so you instead head inside once you’ve brushed most of the sand off.
There’s only one bathroom on your side of the villa, and you refuse to go to Taehyung and Jennie’s side just to be quicker in case they’ve ventured back for a time, like they have been doing a lot today.
Instead, you drop your shoes by the sliding door and then walk to the bathroom you’ve both been using. Jungkook takes care of turning the shower on, grabbing the shower head from the wall. He motions for you to get closer, and you narrow your gaze at him.
“You’re not going to spray me, are you?”
He laughs. “And risk getting the whole bathroom wet?”
It sounds so suspicious you stay rooted in your spot by the door. “I don’t trust you.”
“Come on, Y/n.” He tilts his head to the side, lips jutting out in a small pout that makes you feel so weak in the knees you almost cry. “You have nothing to be scared of.”
But you do. You have so much to be scared of, because what if… What if the memories and the trauma come back if you let him back in? What if they’re just waiting around the corner to jump at your throat?
“I’ll kill you if you get my dress wet,” you threaten, glaring at him.
“I promise I won’t,” he says with a hand on his chest like he’s solemnly swearing it. “On my honor as a man.”
“What is a man’s honor worth anyway…” you grumble, and he widens his gaze, mouth falling open.
“That’s mean!”
“You know what I mean, though!”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Do I?”
You nod. “Definitely.”
He snorts, and then he gives up on convincing you, spraying water on his feet and ridding himself of the sand. “Then keep your sandy feet.”
“There’s almost nothing left anyway,” you say, pointing at your feet. “And I’m wearing sandals.”
He doesn’t say anything, cleaning himself thoroughly, and then he’s straightening to meet your gaze again. “You sure you don’t want to at least rinse?”
You sigh, holding his gaze. “Please don’t get my dress wet.”
“I won’t.”
He’s more serious than he was earlier, looking even a little annoyed, so you finally give in, walking over to him. You pull your dress up before stepping in the shower, and then he directs the water to your feet. You watch little grains of sand drifting away, and he turns the water off once he deems you’re rinsed enough.
“See, you had nothing to be scared of,” he says with a pout.
“Thank you, Jungkook.”
He makes a non-committal sound, and then looks at you for a time. It takes you a moment to realize he’s waiting for you to step out of the shower so that he can get out too. You blush at the realization, and then you’re getting out, grabbing a clean tower to wipe your feet.
Jungkook ends up drying his feet with the same towel, and then he throws it in the hamper the employees of the resort have left in here to collect dirty towels. You can sense the annoyance wafting off of him, and you wish you could take everything back.
You were only teasing.
“You okay?” you ask.
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah.” He must see that you’re unconvinced, because he adds, “Yes, I am. Want to go back to the party?”
You nod. But you don’t move for a time, just holding his gaze. And then you blurt, “I’ll be in Seoul next month.”
His eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh?”
“Maybe we could…” you trail off.
You trail off, because you shouldn’t, and you shouldn’t have said anything.
Jungkook must see the moment you shut off from him, especially as you turn around to make an escape. But he’s quicker, grabbing your wrist much like he did when you were fighting on the beach.
“You’re not walking away from me again,” he says, pulling you back towards him. He’s frowning, a crease between his eyebrows. “Never again.”
There’s a moment of you both staring at each other, and you know you can’t resist anymore. Know you were always meant to give in tonight.
Then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him back, the months of longing and yearning crashing into you both at the same time. It steals the breath from your lungs, and you’re pretty sure your heart stops for a few seconds before it starts back up again at a wild rhythm that has to be unhealthy.
Especially as Jungkook pushes you back against the wall, caging you there. His lips are insistent against yours, his piercings warm as they press into your lower lip. And he kisses you so thoroughly, so languidly, that your mind goes blank, and you forget why you weren’t supposed to do this in the first place.
There’s just him. Just him, and his lips, and his hands, and the desire that’s never been extinguished between the two of you. The stars outside knew, you think, as he cups your cheek to tilt your head to the side while he deepens the kiss. They knew tonight was leading to this, to a jump in the past.
Nostalgia is an emotion you’ve always been weak to. So when he pushes his tongue in your mouth, you suck on it, revelling in the grunt that he makes. One of his hands grips your hip, fingers dipping in the supple skin and for a moment, you wish he’d lift your dress. You wish you could feel his fingers on you directly. You wish you could feel so much more, too. Feel the weight of him on you again, and it makes you so fucking nostalgic.
Nostalgia is everywhere tonight. It was in the stars, in his gaze and in the walk on the beach. It was in the conversation you had before you even went on that walk, and you were always meant to succumb to it.
You’re weak when it comes to Jeon Jungkook. So, fucking weak.
It cost you so much in the past.
Yet it feels so right to kiss him tonight, like two puzzle pieces connecting perfectly like they were always meant to. It’s like the universe breathes a sigh of relief, or maybe that’s your soul.
It was longing for him for so long, after all.
You pull away from the kiss what feels like an eternity later, breathing raggedly. Jungkook is not faring any better, and he leans his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a time, eyes closed, refusing to let the moment end. But you hear fireworks outside, and Jungkook pulls away, glancing outside the bathroom.
He looks at you again a few seconds later, kissing your forehead ever so gently, and tears build up behind your closed eyelids.
“I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to do this,” Jungkook whispers as if he noticed the tears.
“It’s not that.” But maybe it is a little. Because you’re terrified of where that would lead. So you wet your lips, tasting him there, and your eyes flutter open to meet his dark gaze. “I just… I don’t know if we should.”
If it hurts him, he doesn’t let it show. “That’s okay. There’s no pressure.”
You smile softly, blinking the tears away. It works, for the most part. “I want to see you while I’m in Seoul.”
You do. You really fucking do.
Maybe you’re not meant to leave everything about you and Jeon Jungkook in the past. Kissing him still feels so right, after all.
“I’ll be there,” he promises. “Just text me, and I’ll be there.”
A single tear manages to escape the blink of your eyes, and it slides on your cheek. Jungkook looks at it, smiling softly like it’s the treasure he’s been looking for, and he gently dries it before leaning in to press a featherlight kiss on your lips.
Later that night, when you go to bed, you can still feel the warmth of his lips against yours.
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☆☆☆☆☆
oh gosh i love love love this chapter. finally a silver lining for you all <3 let me know what you think of this chapter!
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter deals with heavy themes)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: mentions of the assault, some people recognize oc, a whole bunch of trauma and learning to live with it, cursing, a tough but needed conversation, mentions of suicidal thoughts, it is a really sad chapter all in all
☆word count: 12k
☆a/n: another sad one tbh, i'm sorry. I hope you guys still enjoy it <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Wednesday, February 11th
You haven’t been back in your home country for a while now. Last time you were here, summer blasted at the world outside, Chelsea’s wedding at the summit of it all, but now winter has closed its clutches around the city you grew up in, and part of you wishes you were back in Korea, where the weather has been a little warmer over the last few days.
But now that your ribs have healed, you’ve decided to come home for a while, to stay with your family and visit Stella in person, along with the publishing house. They were wanting to set up a meeting with you whenever you were ready to discuss your plans in terms of writing for the next few months considering you haven’t done anything since…
Since your assault.
They’ve made it clear that there is no pressure though, repeating it multiple times while you were sitting across from them earlier. They said that they pushed you to release your last book a lot faster than they usually do, and they want to give you a break while you focus on healing.
They claimed they’ll be there whenever you’re ready again, but you know the publishing world is cutthroat. There’s a chance they’ll have moved to the next big sensation by then and, strangely, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not because of being numb like you were in December, but just because your energy is focused elsewhere right now.
After consulting the doctors back in Korea, you’ve managed to convince them to lower the dose of your meds just a little bit. Indeed, you’ve been wanting to feel something, craving emotions other than the overwhelming sadness you get whenever you end up thinking about a boy with doe eyes and soft lips. It’s been a strange adjustment, but you like it better like this.
You want to face the emotions head on to be able to heal instead of just pretending that nothing ever happened. You’ve been practicing going outside alone back in Seoul, just to stand outside of your building for a little while before coming back in. You even managed a short walk five minutes away from your condominium not too long before you came back to your home country, but that’s all you’ve managed to do on your own so far.
So Jennie came all the way here with you, as shooting for her movie wrapped up at the end of January. With her, or with Hyunseok, you’ve been able to live some sort of a… normal life. You’ve gone to a restaurant twice, visited Jennie’s place once, and you even went shopping with Hyunseok last week, but they always had to come meet you at your place first.
But this is good. Being back home, so far away from all the trauma, is good. It’s practice from being away from your comfort zone, and it’s been healing.
You don’t think you’ll ever get back to how you were before the assault, some innocence forever stolen from you, but you’re already doing better.
Support goes a long way, in situations like this one. And maybe you won’t ever be able to walk around at night alone again, but at least you have people that understand it. And you don’t think it matters – you can always take a taxi if you need to get to places alone. But you haven’t had to do anything alone once since it all happened, Hyunseok coming with you to every single one of your medical appointments.
Your therapist thinks you’re doing admirable progress, and fast. You reckon it’s all because of her. Her clinical insight, her gentle approach, and the way she makes you feel seen and understood has really been helping with dealing with the anxiety you’ve developed.
You haven’t developed PTSD. She said maybe it’ll show up later, in ways you just haven’t encountered yet, but you have been trying to be positive.
The anxiety is enough, and how would you even develop PTSD about something you don’t remember? You’re no expert in mental health, though, and you know the brain works in weird ways. You could indeed eventually develop PTSD, but so far you’ve been okay. You reckon that it helps that you take meds that fully prevent you from dreaming.
You still remember the nightmares that you had before they gave you the meds. Well, you don’t remember the nightmares exactly, but you remember the fear, the terror that lingered after you woke up from them. Maybe that was PTSD, and maybe you’ve just been keeping it at bay with medication. But if it works, it works, and you won’t complain. You want to learn to be as normal as possible again. You want to be independent from people, you want to move on from what happened. With that drive, your therapist thinks you’ll be able to learn to manage everything faster than most people do.
What she doesn’t understand is, you need to go back to normal. You need to be able to do the things you used to, or else you’ll go insane. One of the reasons why you really wanted to come back home was because it allowed you to be away from your apartment for a while. It’s a nice apartment, though very small, but it’s been driving you insane these past weeks, making you feel like an animal in a cage.
But being here, even though it’s cold and there are feet of snow on the lawn in front of your parents’ house in the suburbs, has been freeing. You left some heaviness back in Korea that you hope won’t return when you go back…
If you go back. You’ve been starting to think of cutting your year abroad short to come back here instead, but you haven’t made a decision yet.
“That went… decently well,” Stella says next to you as you walk out of the publishing house, snowflakes swirling down from the clouded sky.
They’re lazy, chasing each other in a slow waltz as they fall, and they’re already littering the sidewalk, snow crunching under your feet as you walk towards the coffeeshop where Jennie is waiting for you.
“It did,” you agree. “But honestly Stella… I don’t know if I’ll be able to write anytime soon.”
“That’s okay,” she reassures you. “I am ready to fight tooth and nail to keep them off your back. You’re allowed to take all the time that you need.” She flashes a quick smile. “Besides, they’re kind of biting their tongue now that they’ve had bad reviews about how the book felt rushed.”
Indeed, those have come out since you’ve published. You didn’t really pay it any mind as you were lost in the daze induced by your assault, but there has been a lot of comments about how the book felt rushed compared to your other books.
It was rushed. They pushed you like crazy to get a book out in under a year. You felt like you could do it, and you’re proud of what you did with the time that you had, but it was to be expected. Indeed, typos were found in the book, which they wouldn’t have had it undergone more revision. Some of the prints had pages missing, others were printed the wrong way…
A lot of mistakes that would have been avoided if the book wasn’t rushed. But thankfully, the story has only received praises, so the bad reviews haven’t gone to your head too much.
You’d warned the publishing house that this would happen, and they refused to listen. So it’s on them, and you won’t take responsibility for their shortcomings.
“Yeah,” you let out.
“You take your time with everything, okay?” Stella says. “And if you need to stop writing for a while, know that I’ll be there whenever, or if ever you decide to write again.”
“Thank you.” You glance her way, lips curled upwards. “I’m sure I’ll go back to writing eventually. It’s just, with the concussion and healing I just… don’t feel like it.”
“Which is totally normal and expected,” she replies. “No one is actually expecting you to start writing right now. And if they do, I’ll beat the shit out of them. Metaphorically.”
If she realizes that she accidentally alluded to your own assault, she doesn’t let it show. You’re thankful for it – the hardest part of it all is when people act like something happened to you. Like your brothers, who have been incredibly awkward since you came home.
Like they expect you to break if they say something. It makes it all too real, and it’s the last thing you need.
You snort. “That sounds a little excessive.”
“You know I’d go to war for you,” Stella adds.
You do know. Your mother told you she almost flew to Korea when she found out what happened to you, claiming she wanted to bring justice to the assholes that attacked you. Like she was the heroine of a book, maybe even the main character from your book, who did fly to Korea after her father was killed after all.
“I’d go to war for you too,” you tell her.
She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a half hug. She’s taller than you, and she leans her head on yours for a few seconds. “I love you, Y/n. I know I’m your agent and you literally pay me for this, but I love you.”
Your gaze grows wet, and you quickly blink it away as you reach a red light. You stare at the hand indicating for you to wait before crossing the street, taking a deep breath.
“You’re family at this point,” you tell her. “My mother said you and Allie should come have dinner this weekend. She’ll make her roast beef.”
“I would kill for your mother’s roast beef,” she declares. “I’ll check with Allie, but we could probably come Friday. We have something with the in-laws on Saturday.”
“I’ll let my mother know.”
The hand turns to a little person walking, and you cross the street, reaching the coffeeshop. Jennie is inside, and you see two teenagers talking to her excitedly through the window. She’s smiling to them politely, but you can tell she’s a little uncomfortable.
“Gotta go rescue Jennie,” you tell Stella, and she glances inside, wincing.
“You’d think she would get recognized less here,” Stella says with a sigh. “I’d help, but I have a meeting with another author.”
“Cheating, I see,” you tease.
She chuckles, and then she pulls you into a tight hug. “I’d never cheat on you.”
You snort, returning the hug. “I know you wouldn’t.”
You say goodbye, and Stella waves as she heads towards where her car is parked a little down the street. You get into the coffeeshop before she reaches it though, and the bells above the door ring as the door shuts behind you, the warm coffee-scented atmosphere wrapping around you like another warm hug.
You head towards Jennie, and she spots you between the two girls in front of her. Her features relax as she notices you, and she gets up from her chair.
“Well, it was nice to meet you two,” she says as you near her, and the two girls look at you, gaze widening.
“Oh, Jungkook’s girlfriend!”
You think your heart drops to the floor. Hell, you think it turned to glass and shattered upon impact.
You are not Jungkook’s girlfriend. You’d never be his girlfriend, not after everything that happened.
“Let’s go,” Jennie says as she sees the look on your face. “Hope you girls enjoy the concert.”
She walks to you as she’s putting her coat on, her scarf and purse clutched in one hand, and she grabs your arm, pulling you behind her. It doesn’t take too long before you’re back outside, winter grasping at your exposed skin once more. It makes your cheek prickle, and you wish you had a scarf to hide your face in.
You forgot it in Korea. And didn’t bother to get one here, though you reckon you could have stolen one of your mother’s scarves.
“Oh my God,” Jennie lets out as she quickly wraps her own bright red scarf around her neck. “They were not leaving me alone.” She sighs, glancing at you. “I’m sorry they said that.”
You shrug. “A lot of people have assumed we’re dating after what happened.”
And it’s true. The comments on your posts on Instagram are filled with such thoughts, mixed throughout the comments about your book.
“I hate that people just assume,” Jennie grumbles, and then she looks across the street, where your father’s SUV is parked. “Want to go home?”
You nod, digging in your purse to retrieve the keys. “Yeah.”
You’d originally planned to stop for food on the way, but as you’re driving home, your mother calls to say she made your favourite soup, and that she can make you grilled cheese when you get home. She doesn’t ask about the meeting, which you’re relieved about.
You’re kind of tired of talking about writing for today. You just want to go home, wrap yourself in a blanket and watch some stupid show on Netflix with Jennie. But Jennie did not get the memo, because the second you hang up with your mother, she says, “Hope your meeting went well.”
You wince internally, checking your mirrors as you switch lanes for the slower one. “Yeah, it did. They seemed…” you trail off, searching for the right word. “Understanding, but I’m not sure if it was a load of bullshit.”
“Hopefully not.” You feel her gaze on your profile, and you quickly glance her way before resuming your attention on the highway. “I feel like that whole meeting could have been an email. Kind of cruel to make you come all the way here for that.”
“Well, I was coming here regardless,” you point out. “Might as well just go, you know?”
“Fair.” There’s a short silence, only interrupted by the squeak of the wipers as they move across the windshield. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
“In general?” you ask, but you don’t wait for her to reply. “Good. Just… tired.”
“I mean, it was a long day outside of the house,” she says, even though it wasn’t that long. “Makes sense that you’d feel tired.”
You meet her gaze for a heartbeat or two. “Honestly… It’s easier here.”
“Yeah?”
You nod. “It’s so far from everything that happened, you know?” You shrug. “Makes it easier to forget it ever happened.”
“That’s good,” Jennie gently says. “Really good.”
You smile, but it’s sad. “Maybe I should move back here.”
The silence that follows is heavy, though filled with understanding. Especially when Jennie breaks it to say, “You have to do what is right for you. If you think that that is what you need, then I fully support it, even if I’ll miss you.”
“I just think…” You chuckle, even though there is nothing funny about it at all. “I just think it’d be better, you know?”
“That makes sense.”
And you really think it does. The more you think of it, the more it does make sense. You’d move back in with your parents. You could claim the basement as your own, as it’s already an apartment that one of your brothers stayed in during college. It even has its own separate door. You could take time away from everything, with the other half of your support circle, to heal and rebuild yourself. You’d have to change therapists, but you had a therapist here in the past and could probably reach out to her.
And you’d be far away from him. From the reminders of him, from the moments you shared together. You wouldn’t have to live with those memories, to be haunted by them anymore.
You doubt there’s any better way to heal than to be far from everything about him. Or far from almost everything.
They have concerts here this weekend. Two of them, one on Friday and one on Saturday. Jennie mentioned it in passing to you as you were flying home, and you pretended you didn’t hear. She hasn’t talked about it again, and apart from the posters and ads you’ve seen in the city, it’s like he’s not here.
He isn’t. He’s most likely still in some other city. At least you’ve been telling yourself that constantly.
Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to leave the house for a whole other reason.
Later that evening, when you and Jennie sit on the couch in the basement under a thick, fluffy blanket, binge-watching some reality TV show, you glance at Jennie. She’s been on her phone the whole time, most likely talking to Taehyung, and you watch as she smiles softly. She looks younger like this, without any makeup, her celebrity personality stripped away.
“You’re not even paying attention,” you tease her, gently kicking her under the blanket.
She chuckles. “Mingee likes Seungil,” she says. “And Mina Sue is just mad.”
“Okay, maybe you’re paying attention a little,” you admit. “But who are you texting like this?”
“Tae,” she replies. “He wants us to go to the concert on Saturday.”
You freeze for the second time today. This time, your heart stays in your chest, but you immediately say, “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going to their concert.”
Jennie just stares at you unblinkingly, clearly unimpressed.
“What?” you let out.
“Why not?” she asks.
You widen your gaze, pausing the TV. “What do you mean, why not?”
“It’s been better here, yeah?”
You frown. “It’s been better because I’m away from everything.”
“Right. Sorry.” Jennie sighs, glancing at her phone. “Would you be upset if I went without you?”
“Of course not!” you quickly say. “You miss Tae, and he’ll be right next door. Go see him.”
“But I’m here for you, not for him.”
Fuck, you love her so bad.
“Babe, he’s your boyfriend, I’m just happy you get to see him after all this time apart.”
Indeed, Taehyung only managed to go back to Korea for a few days during the holidays, though some of them were spent with his family while Jennie was with hers.
“I’d stay with him Saturday evening, though. You sure that would be okay with you?”
You smile. “Yeah, I’ll just stay here with my parents. They’re not bad company.”
She snorts. “Your parents are adorable.”
Indeed, they are. They’ve always loved each other deeply, which is definitely why you grew up to be such a romantic, and a romance writer too.
That settles the conversation, as Jennie smiles a little wider while she replies to Taehyung, clearly telling him that she’ll go. And you can almost imagine yourself in her position, texting someone else.
For a moment, you see the scene from an outside perspective like it’s a movie playing on the TV. You see it as you stand on the edge of the gaping hole in your chest, looking down at it.
In another universe, you never get assaulted by the sasaengs outside of Jungkook’s house. In that universe, you would have made your relationship official while he was in Korea. You’d be here on this couch with Jennie excited to go to the concert with her, to see him after the months apart.
You’d be backstage, cheering for him, holding him close whenever he’d get off the stage even though he’d be sweaty. He’d tell you he loves you, and you’d tell him you love him back.
In that universe, you got your happy ending. Not this bullshit that has fucked you up so bad you doubt you’ll ever be the same again.
You’re crying. You don’t know when you started crying, but Jennie looks up, putting her phone down.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” she asks. “I’ll stay, it’s okay.”
You put your hands on your face as a sob wracks through you, making you choke around nothing. And you try to speak, but no words come out, staying lodged in your throat. Jennie pulls you to her chest, holding you tight.
You wish she could hold you tight enough to keep all your pieces together, but you fear only one person could do that, and you don’t want to ever see him again.
You can’t see him. Not when you know it’ll awaken trauma and pain and you just seek healing. But fuck, you wish the conditions surrounding you and him were different. You wish the end wasn’t so fucking dramatic, like something you’d see in a horror movie.
But you don’t fit in his world. Not when there will always be people threatening you for what you are to him.
“What’s wrong?” Jennie asks again as you cling to her like you would to a buoy in a storm.
“He’ll be here,” you choke out.
She rubs your back. “Oh, babe.”
“I’m so tired, Jennie, I’m so fucking tired.”
You think she’s crying too. She’s shaking, and she’s so sympathetic you know your pain breaks her heart just as much as it breaks yours.
“I know.”
She rocks you from side to side as you cry, but you just keep on breaking, like you should have when you first woke up from the coma.
You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of clinically ill jealousy. You didn’t deserve for him to lie. You didn’t deserve every single shitty thing that happened.
Where would you be, if you’d never gone to Korea?
Home. You’d be home. Here, not the one you found in his arms.
You wish you’d never gone to Seoul at all.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do,” you say when the sobs have lessened, even though the tears just keep on coming. “Everyone just says that I just need time to heal, but my body has healed, and I don’t remember shit about it all, yet it all just still fucking hurts.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Jennie sounds desperate, and you hate it so much you wish you’d never burdened her with the darkness in your head.
It’s been there since the assault. You were just good at pretending it wasn’t.
“There’s nothing to say.” You pull back, sitting back in your spot as you glance at the paused TV. “I think part of me will always see him as responsible for what happened in some way, and I feel so fucking bad about it.”
Silence follows the truth. It’s heavy, weighing a thousand pounds, and a glance Jennie’s way shows that she’s indeed crying.
“I think that’s the problem,” you say as she blurs behind a new onslaught of tears. “I’m aware it’s not his fault, but if he hadn’t been a celebrity… None of this would have ever happened. And maybe we’d be together today. Maybe we’d be in love and I’d be able to be with him without thinking I might get killed for it. How crazy is it that I almost was killed just because I know him?”
“Y/n…”
“No, but it’s different for you, cause you’re a celebrity too. People expect him to be with someone like you. Not with the random writer from another country.”
“You should never listen to what the fans say,” Jennie whispers, and then she adds, voice stronger, “Y/n, and trust me when I say this, but it doesn’t matter who you are. They hated me for years when I was first dating Tae, long before the military service. And then they saw how depressed he got after we broke up the first time, and when we got back together, everyone was happy.” She pauses, wipes her cheeks. “At the end of the day, true fans just want them to be happy. The people that did that to you…”
You’re crying so hard again you have to pull the blanket to your face.
“The people that did that to you weren’t fans. They were criminals, and they’re in prison for it. And honestly part of me thinks they deserve much worse than prison, because I see the impact it had on you and I fucking miss the girl that you were before.”
She chuckles sadly. “Like, who’d just randomly go to the basement of a club with someone she just met? More than that, who cheers up someone they don’t know like you did that night? You were so strong, you still are so fucking strong, but I met you and I was like ‘Damn, I wish that I was like her’. And that’s why I wanted to be friends with you, because you were so down to earth and fun to be around and just…”
She stops, taking a deep breath.
“I see the way they broke you. I see you fighting to stay afloat and I wish they got a lot worse than prison time.” The words are said with so much anger you feel its fire. “And I wish I could fix everything for you.”
She falls silent, like all the fight suddenly drained out of her. You look at each other, and you wish you could go back a few months ago and tell Jungkook to not come back to Korea. Maybe none of this would have happened in the end.
“I wish you and Jungkook would have gotten to love each other,” Jennie adds in the barest hint of whisper. “I wish you both were not hurting like you are now. And I wish he’d never lied. I know he hates himself for it. Hates himself for everything that happened.”
“It’d break him if he knew what I told you,” you say when she stops talking again. “Jennie, I hate it so bad. But I feel like, if I see him, everything will come rushing back.”
“I know.” She wipes the silver lining her gaze again. “I understand now. And I’m so, so sorry you feel this way.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“Mad?” You give her a nod, and she tilts her head to the side, confused. “No, why would I be?”
You shrug. “Because it’s unfair that I feel this way. That I feel like it’s his fault.”
“Babe, you went through hell. I think that gives you the right to feel any way you want.”
“Does it, though?”
She thinks about it for a moment, and then says, “Listen, I wish you wouldn’t. I obviously wish my two friends could be happy together, because you guys seemed so happy in Jeju. You both lit up whenever the other was there, or was mentioned. But what happened got in the way of that, and it’s just life. It’d be useless and stupid to be mad at one of you for it. Neither of you is responsible.”
A tear slips on your cheek, streaming down to your chin, where it lingers without falling. “I know I promised you I would speak to him one day, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“You don’t have to,” she reassures you. “Babe, you really don’t have to.”
“I just…” you trail off.
And as you trail off, another one of those things you’ve ignored comes bursting out of the hole in your chest. Because what if you don’t talk to him, and spend a life regretting it? What’s a lifetime of regret over a conversation that might hurt?
What if you need to face the trauma to finally move forward?
What if talking to him would bring more peace than pain? And what if it does bring more pain? Wouldn’t the pain catch up to you eventually anyway? You can’t spend a lifetime trying to pretend you and him ended that night. Because you didn’t. The feelings are still down there in the gaping hole in your chest, just waiting for the moment to come out. Like they did earlier as you imagined what it would have been like in another universe. And even though it’s painful, even though you don’t think you’ll still be standing by the end of it all, maybe you should confront the feelings.
Maybe closure is what you need.
It’s like the storm cloud passes suddenly. Breathing becomes easier, the hole in your chest decreases until it’s not crushing your lungs anymore. You feel like you’re lighter, though that might just be post-crying clarity. But the storm cloud does pass, and there’s sunlight on the horizon. Piercing through it all, painting the clouds with gold.
And maybe you and him were just that. The golden hour before the sun sets. No matter how ephemeral it was, no matter how it ended with darkness thicker than a moonless night…
You deserve closure.
“Actually,” you let out. You gulp, meeting Jennie’s gaze. “Actually, I want to talk to him.”
She blinks a few times, and a tear escapes and falls on her cheek. “Are you sure?”
You nod. “I am.”
And you realize it’s the first time you haven’t lied since you woke up from the coma.
Friday, February 13th
Performing has never been so hard as it is tonight. Jungkook plays with a lump in his throat, his energy off all night. He’s been trying his best, telling himself that even if you’re not here, performing for your city is like having a piece of you here with him…
But the more he plays, the harder it gets, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it through the full concert. Especially not when they finally have a break, and he runs off stage first, Taehyung close behind.
He needs out. He needs to breathe, to drink something so that the pain can fade for just a few seconds. But he’s been good at avoiding alcohol. It’s dangerous when he’s in this mental state. And though he was able to have a beer the other day without anything bad happening, he was not here.
He was not in the city you grew up in.
Hell, he feels like he sees you in the crowd. You’re fucking everywhere here, and he can’t do it anymore.
Jungkook realizes he’s crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Namjoon appears next to them. “Breathe, JK. You’re okay.”
Jungkook laughs. He laughs, because it’s absurd to think that he’s okay.
He’ll never be okay again.
“Do you need to sit the rest of the concert out?” Namjoon asks. “We got the track ready to play if needed.”
“I want to play,” Jungkook says. “I just can’t, I see her everywhere out there.”
“Then take a break,” Taehyung says. “Every single person in the arena understands.”
Jungkook knows they do. The outpour of love he’s been on the receiving end of since he’s returned to tour with the boys has been unlike anything from before. It’s been healing in some way. To think that at least he didn’t lose that. To see that the fans, the real ones, understood.
But they’ll never understand the pain that he carries every single fucking day.
“I just want to be strong for the fans,” he says.
Taehyung pulls him to his chest, hugging him tight. “You are strong, JK. Some concerts are just harder, and that’s okay.”
Jungkook nods as he pulls back from the hug. He feels nauseous, and he reckons he really needs some air.
“I’ll try to come back for the encore.”
He doubts he’ll be able to, but he feels too guilty for abandoning the boys like this. So as they return on the stage, he drinks water, sits with a blanket on his shoulders. And he tries to meditate, tries to do some breathing exercises that were recommended to him in the single therapy appointment he managed to go to. It helps a little, and he feels calmer when the boys return backstage before the encore.
“You sure you can do this?” Namjoon asks as they all stand in a semi-circle around Jungkook.
He nods. “I have to.”
Namjoon holds his gaze, and then claps Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”
And then he’s back on the stage, sitting at his drumset. He grabs the sticks, and they feel foreign in his hands. Less so when he closes his eyes to play, and the rhythm carries him through the first song of the encore.
But then he makes a mistake on the second song. It’s a minor mistake, but it hurts so bad he starts crying, right there in the spotlight. He stops playing, unable to continue, and Taehyung looks at him from where he’s been playing the trumpet, and he runs over to Jungkook as the song loses yet another instrument.
Jimin is the next to join them, and then all the members run to Jungkook, and they hug him, like they’re protecting him from the world outside. The fans are screaming, and Jungkook wonders if he can just disappear through the floor.
It’s one thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of your closest friends, in front of your family. It’s an entire other thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of the whole world.
To think it’ll get to you…
He almost texted you earlier today. Being here in your city made him feel closer to you than he’s felt in months, but when he opened the conversation thread to see all the drunk texts he sent and you ignored, he broke down yet again.
He doesn’t know how to heal from losing you. From being responsible for what happened to you. From not running out in the street when he should have the second you went outside.
Where would he be now if he had? He likes to think that you would have made up, walked back into the house and he’d told you he loves you. But he was stupid, and prioritized someone that he never should have over you, and his mistakes led you to where you are now.
When the members pull back to reveal the crowd, Jungkook sees himself on the big screen. He looks terrible, and he chuckles as he wipes his cheeks. And then he grabs Seokjin’s mic, and gets up from his stool.
“Sorry about that,” he apologizes to the crowd, and the scream goes wild. “I just want to say…” He looks at all the members, and then dries another tear on his cheek as the arena quietens. “Please tell the people you love that you love them before you lose them. Please don’t let your pride get in the way.” People scream, and he knows it’s clear he’s speaking of you, but the fans have been there for him. “Love is the most important thing in life. Don’t ever forget that.”
He’s then crying too much again to say something more, and he hands the mic back to Seokjin as the members wrap him in a hug again. They end up leaving the stage without playing the rest of the encore, and though the fans scream outside for them to come back, Namjoon tells the staff to turn on the lights in the arena.
“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks Jungkook as they sit where he was earlier.
It’s strange and cold in here – it’s clearly a locker room for whatever hockey team the arena that they are in is for – and Jungkook doesn’t know what to reply.
He’s not feeling great. He’s feeling horrible. Broken, astray, part of his heart forever lost in the blood spilled that night. In the light going out of your eyes. In your cold skin and the ambulance ride.
Hell, he really thinks part of him really did die that night. He doubts he’ll ever recover from that.
“I wish I could just sleep through the next year,” Jungkook says.
He rubs his face, though it does nothing to soften the edges of his broken heart.
“If you need to go on hiatus again, you know that we’ll all support you, right?” Taehyung gently says.
Jungkook nods. “I know. But I don’t want to fail the fans.”
And mostly, he doesn’t want to have time to get lost in his head more than he already is. He barely found the way back the last time. Most likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Jennie.
“I don’t think the fans would feel like you’re failing them at all. What you went through…” Taehyung trails off. “Most people would not be here today if they were in your position.”
Jungkook shrugs. “I’m just doing what I have to do.”
“I know.” Taehyung sighs, and then he looks to the side, where Jimin’s been sitting in silence. “Listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you before.”
Jungkook raises his head from the vague spot he was staring at on the floor. “What?”
Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look that seems to hold a full conversation. “I thought it was better to not say anything before the concert tonight, so I didn’t say anything,” Taehyung says. “But Jennie and Y/n are here.”
Jungkook’s heart stops. “Here?”
Taehyung nods. “Not at the concert tonight but…”
“They’re coming tomorrow,” Jimin finishes for Taehyung.
Jungkook is sure he’s heard it wrong. He pinches his arm, trying to make sure he’s not stuck in one of his nightmares. “What?”
“Y/n came to visit family, and Jennie came with her,” Taehyung explains. “Since we were having concerts here, I invited Jennie.”
That makes sense. She’s his girlfriend, and they haven’t seen each other in months.
But why the fuck would you want to come?
“And Jennie told me she’d come with Y/n,” Taehyung adds. “I think she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”
His heart squeezes painfully, blood dripping between his ribs at the thought of you not being able to be left alone.
Are you doing as bad as he is? You went through worse than he did, after all.
He’s just a pathetic coward.
“Oh,” he lets out.
“They’ll be backstage,” Jimin adds. “If you think you can’t… see Y/n, you’re fully allowed to sit the concert out tomorrow.”
Another absurd thing to even consider. Because why wouldn’t he want to see you?
He’s been dying to see you. Been dying to talk to you, to hear your voice…
It’s like one of his nightmares turning into a dream come through.
“At the same time, figured you guys might need to talk?” Taehyung adds after he and Jimin exchange another long look. “What do you think?”
He thinks his heart is beating so fast all of a sudden it might just go into heart attack territory.
“I’ll be there,” Jungkook says with a nod.
“Just…” Jimin lets out. “She might not want to talk at all, you know? Just don’t get your hopes up.”
It doesn’t matter if you want to talk or not. The fact that he’ll see you, in the flesh…
It really is a dream come through.
Saturday, February 14th
You didn’t realize it was Valentine’s Day. Like the universe decided to bring you back to Jungkook on some sick, twisted joke of the holiday that represents everything you’ve lost. When you saw the date earlier while getting ready for the concert with Jennie, you cried.
She held you, rubbed your back soothingly, and said it was okay if you didn’t want to go. That she understood. You know she does, but ever since Wednesday, you’ve been feeling some sort of gentle peace at the idea of seeing him. So you held onto that peace, dried your tears, and steeled yourself to finish getting ready.
And now you’re being ushered backstage after Jennie showed the passes on her phone to security. You’re anxious, hands shaking, throat closing, and you reckon this might be a bad idea. But Jennie senses your unease, grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. The quiet show of support makes you grow emotional, but you blink the tears away, refusing to break down in front of strangers.
You cried enough last Wednesday. Now is not the time for tears anymore.
The first of the members you see is Taehyung, just as expected as he and Jennie have been texting. She let him know you got here the second you did, and so you’re not surprised he’s waiting outside of the dressing room, just wearing a white tank top. It’s tucked in his black pants, and he somehow looks elegant despite the simplicity of the look.
It makes sense. He and Jennie both have a simple elegance that just goes well together, even though they also can get extra sometimes.
Taehyung looks up from his phone as he hears you arrive, and his gaze catches on Jennie. You let go of her hand, pushing her towards him, and they run to each other, Taehyung picking her up the floor and spinning her in a circle before putting her down. It reminds you of the way Jungkook greeted you all those months ago, and you blink some more tears away as your gaze drops to the ground.
“Y/n,” Taehyung says once he’s done greeting his girlfriend.
Not expecting to hear him say your name, you look up, meeting his gaze. He smiles at you, so genuine you wonder what’s going on.
“I’m so happy you’re here today.”
Jennie gives you an encouraging nod next to him as you glance at her.
“Huh, thank you,” you let out, cheeks burning. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“How have you been doing?” he asks next.
Your throat is dry, uncomfortably so, and you clear it as you hold onto the strap of your purse tighter, wishing maybe Jennie would still be holding your hand.
“I’ve been okay,” you say, and it’s not quite a lie.
You haven’t been good, obviously, but you could be worse. You could be at the bottom of the barrel like you were on Wednesday, but you’re not. You’re standing in the arena where they’re having a concert later tonight, and you feel stronger than you’ve felt in months.
Taehyung nods, glancing at his girlfriend. “Are you guys ready to go in?”
You know the question is more for you than it is for Jennie, especially as they both look at you. You just stand there for a few seconds, wondering if you are, as a matter of fact, ready to see Jungkook, but then fate decides to choose for you, the door opening to reveal Jungkook on the other side.
He slams the door shut the second you meet his gaze like he’s a child caught doing something he shouldn’t, and you can’t help the small smile on your lips. Though you reckon the smile might be more nervous than anything, especially as it dies when the door opens again, only to reveal Jimin this time.
“Y/n!” Jimin lets out with far more enthusiasm than you expected from him.
You got along well in Jeju, that is true. But you haven’t had a single interaction with him since then, so you didn’t expect the camaraderie to have lingered all this time.
“Jimin,” you greet him with a small bow.
He walks over to you, leaving the door open, and you peek over his shoulder to try to see Jungkook, but he’s disappeared from view.
You hate that it disappoints you. That your heart sinks in your chest, but what could you expect? You’ve been ignoring him for months, and the last time you saw him, you just asked him to leave.
Jimin opens his arms, stopping in front of you with an eyebrow cocked in question like he’s not sure it’s okay to hug you. You were unaware you were on hugging terms with him at all, but the familiarity of the gesture is sweet, so you wrap your arms around him loosely. He pats your back gently, and then steps back to look at you.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” he says, and then he looks behind. He freezes in that position for a second, and then looks at you again. “I thought he was right behind me.”
You offer him a tight-lipped smile. “No worries.”
“I just want to say…” Jimin starts, and he glances around to make sure that no one is paying attention.
Besides Jennie and Taehyung, the staff that led you here left, and there are some body guards by the door that you recognize from having seen them before.
You think one of them is actually the one that was there when you first met Jennie and Jungkook at the club back in May.
“Be patient tonight?” Jimin finishes. “JK has been shitting himself all day, so…”
“Shut the fuck up,” Taehyung says from behind.
Jimin winces. “Yeah. Just… yeah, I guess you’ll see for yourself.”
It’s ominous. And there are shadows in Jimin’s eyes as he says it, like it’s worse than you might be expecting. It makes you even more anxious than you already were, and you gulp as you nod, meeting Jennie’s gaze.
“Okay,” you let out.
There’s a moment of awkward silence, and then Taehyung says something you don’t care to listen to, and you’re all filing into the dressing room, closing the door behind you.
The dressing room is hectic. There are stylists and makeup artists and hairstylists bustling around, getting everyone ready to go on stage. There are a few chairs in a corner, and the walls are lined with benches, a clear indication that this room is also where the hockey team gets ready before matches. You think the smell of sweat lingers in the air, typical of locker rooms like this one, but it’s mixed with the fumes from hairspray, so it’s hard to tell.
Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi are getting their hair done, and you glance around, trying to find a familiar doe-eyed boy. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you do spy Seokjin by a door that most likely leads to the bathroom. Seokjin spots you at the same time you do him, and he waves at you with a smile before walking into the bathroom.
Taehyung and Jimin leave you and Jennie shortly, having to get dressed, and Jennie pulls you to a table with an array of food – sandwiches, vegetables and water bottles. You grab a water bottle, opening it to take a swig of water that you hope will calm your nerves.
“You still okay?” Jennie asks.
You nod. “All good.”
“You let me know if you need to leave,” she adds, repeating what she’s already said a thousand times.
All you do is nod again, and then you glance toward the door leading to the bathroom. It opens, and Jungkook walks out, and for a moment, everything pauses around you – the sounds, Jennie’s arm as it was raising to her mouth, a cucumber in hand. The chatter fades, the hecticness of the room being replaced by a calm void. And in that void, there is you and Jungkook, your gazes meeting.
He’s changed. He’s lost a lot of weight over the months, something you’ve already realized from the pictures you saw of him online. His cheeks are gaunt, his hair longer than it was the last time you saw him. There’s a hollowness to his gaze, a sensation of deep emptiness that makes you feel like you’re falling, with nothing to catch you this time. He doesn’t smile at the sight of you. The corners of his lips twitch, which you reckon might have been his best try at a smile, but all you can see is the sadness in those doe eyes.
The longing and yearning that echoes in the hole in your chest can be found in his eyes, too. And it’s only then that you truly understand how bad he’s been doing.
It was one thing to hear it said. But it was hard to conceive that he was doing as bad as you were, yet seeing him standing there, with those dark circles under his eyes, his jaw clenching, you realize that Jungkook has been suffering too.
And it hurts. It hurts like someone put an iron stake in fire before planting it in your chest. It burns and splits you apart, and you turn around, eyes falling to the cucumber plate. The world returns to its regular speed around you, the sounds crashing back into you, and you take a deep breath that chokes on the way down.
Jennie wraps her arm around you, dropping her head on your shoulder.
“I’m okay,” you say before she speaks, sounding almost defensive. “I’m okay.”
“I know you are,” she replies encouragingly. “You’re strong, you’re beautiful, and if there’s anyone that can do this, it’s you.”
You lean your head on hers. “I love you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
You feel him behind you, your senses going in overdrive. Goosebumps prick at your skin, and you’re thankful you’re still wearing your coat to hide the evidence of how aware you are of him.
“Hey, Jennie,” Jungkook says behind you. “Y/n.”
You weren’t ready to hear him say your name. Hell, you could have had a thousand years to get ready to hear him say your name again and it wouldn’t have been enough. Indeed, it clutches at your heart so tight you think it might burst.
You turn around, taking a deep breath. Jungkook’s looking at Jennie, and you hate that it makes you sad. But it allows you to take a look at his face, to truly take in how much he’s changed, and you hate to see the heaviness on his features.
He looks like he’s at a funeral. Not getting ready for a rock concert. Though their newer music wasn’t as much rock as it is… a mix of funk, pop and rock music.
“Hey JK,” Jennie greets him back, and then she looks at you.
Which only leads him to look at you too, and air wooshes out of your lungs like he just punched your gut.
“Hey,” you let out, voice weak and small and so not strong like you wanted to be tonight.
He tries his luck at a smile again. It works more than it did earlier, though it doesn’t come near his eyes. His eyes remain sad, forlorn, and fuck it makes you want to hold onto him. It’s a visceral need, one you ignore by looking away, glancing at Jimin and Seokjin behind him, looking at you.
Gauging the situation, seeing if they’ll need to intervene. At least you think that they’re looking at you like they are for that reason.
“How have you been?” Jungkook asks, much like Taehyung did outside this room.
He’s asking you. Not Jennie, and Jennie taps your arm before walking away, giving you space. She doesn’t stray too far, like she too wants to make sure she’s close enough to intervene if needed. It makes you feel like she’s your chaperone, and you’d laugh at the thought if it wasn’t so fucking hard to stand in front of Jeon Jungkook.
“Honestly?” You wet your lips, glancing down at your hands as you fumble with the strap of your purse. “It’s been hard. But not as much as it could have been without the people around me.”
Jungkook smiles, and it once again does not quite reach his eyes. “That’s good to hear.”
You gulp, flashing a hint of a smile before returning the question to him. “What about you?”
He remains silent. His eyes gloss over like he gets lost in thoughts, and he stares at a spot behind you. You’re tempted to look behind to see if there’s something there, but you haven’t seen him in so long and he’s just, right, there, in front of you, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.
“I’ve had better days,” he eventually replies, and he pulls on his piercings.
It attracts your gaze to his lips, and you notice that they’re chapped, like he’s forgotten what chapstick is.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “It is what it is.” He sighs, hands digging in the pockets of his pants. “It’s great to see you.”
“Likewise,” you echo.
It’s awkward. You both just stand there in silence for a little while, a world of unsaid words sitting between the two of you. But you don’t know where to start, don’t know what to say to bridge the gap between then and now. Jungkook doesn’t seem to fare any better than you, yet he holds your gaze. Says words with his eyes that you know his mouth won’t form. Because you’re not there anymore.
Too much has changed between you and Jeon Jungkook to ever say those words aloud. But you feel them on your skin, in your heart, deep in your soul, too. You feel them in the gaping hole in your chest, echoing off the walls over and over again.
Unable to stay in this silence, you say, “I hope the concert goes well tonight.”
He freezes, blinking a few times, and you reckon he might be blinking away tears. “You saw what happened yesterday?”
You did. And it only made you want to come here tonight even more. Because he clearly needs closure too.
“Yeah,” you let out. “I’m sorry.”
Another shrug of his shoulders. “It happens. It’s a little embarrassing when it’s in front of so many people, but it is what it is.”
“Yeah.” You take a deep breath, exhale slowly. “I’m glad I get to see you perform again.”
That same smile but not a smile reappears. “I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
“I will.”
Silence. You haven’t run out of things to tell Jungkook since way before August. Hell, after you hooked up after that concert in July, conversation with Jungkook was always easy. Never like this. Never like you have to pull the words out of each other.
It’s unnatural where it used to be as easy as breathing.
“Do you plan on staying after the concert?” he asks.
You glance at Jennie, who’s with Taehyung now, but she looks your way the second she feels your eyes on her.
“I don’t know,” you tell Jungkook as your gaze returns to him. “Are you guys doing something after?”
Jungkook pushes his hair back, though a stubborn strand falls on his forehead again. “They are. Pretty sure Tae and Jennie will just go back to the hotel.”
“They?” you repeat.
He sighs. “Yeah.”
A crease appears between your eyebrows. “You’re not planning to join them?”
His gaze drops to the ground. It takes him a few seconds to reply, and you almost wish he hadn’t. “I can’t really afford to be around alcohol too much.”
Oh.
“Ah,” you let out, and you gulp. “I understand that.”
He nods, remaining silent this time around. And for a short moment, you feel like you’re back in the hospital room, telling him to leave. You wonder, did his heart stay in that room, too?
“I wanted to –” he starts at the same time as you say, “It’s good that you –”
He gives a pained smile as he stops talking, motioning to you to keep going.
“It’s good that you know to avoid alcohol,” you say. “It’s a depressant.”
He frowns, yet nods his head. “Yeah.”
You wish you hadn’t said anything.
“You were going to say?”
“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for…”
“Jungkook, we need you to get ready,” a staff member says as she stands awkwardly to the side.
Jungkook looks at her, and you gaze at his profile, at his nose you used to peck under the sheets in his bed. The memory flashes in your head, so real you think you could reach out and touch it. Grab it, and put it in your heart, too.
Maybe it’d fill the hole in your chest.
“Okay,” he lets out, and then he looks at you again. “I’ll talk to you later?”
His eyes are begging. Asking you to stay, to not leave again, though he was technically the one to leave in November. You give him a nod, and you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your mouth for a second. He frowns imperceptibly, and you just stare at those doe eyes, wondering how it is that you went from whispering sweet nothings to each other to whatever this is.
But you know how. You know it all too well. It’s scarred in your side, and definitely in your mind too. Even though you don’t remember it exactly, you remember the how all too well.
“Yes,” you say. “Let’s talk after the concert.”
His smile is truer then. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes still, but it lessens the gauntness of his features just enough for you to momentarily catch sight of the man he was before.
“We will.”
And with that, he’s walking away. You watch him go, your heart reaching for him as he looks over his shoulder to look at you. For a moment, you think he might walk back to you, might say what he was about to say before the staff member interrupted, but he doesn’t. He grabs the clothes he’s handed by a stylist, and he disappears in the other room to get dressed.
It takes a moment, and you’re all ushered to the actual backstage area before he comes out. You’re worried, looking back the way you came wondering if he realized he couldn’t do it. The members seem concerned too, but then Jungkook jogs to where you are, giving you a quick glance before he grabs his drumsticks from someone from production.
And then you watch them file onto the stage, and the music starts. It’s different to experience it from here, yet you feel yourself swaying to the beat, and you let it wash over you, let it carry you through the songs that they play out there. Jennie is beside you the whole time, and then they’re running off stage to quickly change and grab some water. Jungkook looks at you as he drinks, and you give him a smile that seems to give him a boost of energy. Indeed, he goes back on stage with a bounce to his steps, and it does ease some of the ache in your chest to see it.
The stage is healing for him. He’s told you that in the past, but you witness it in person tonight. Especially after the concert, when you all return to the dressing room, and congratulations are thrown around. Jungkook is smiling then, and you think it’s genuine. Because there’s a familiar twinkle in his eyes, though it burns out when he meets your gaze, his features growing serious.
And though everyone is talking around you, hugging and smiling widely, Jungkook just looks at you, and you look at him, and it’s like you’re alone again.
If you were in that universe you imagined last Wednesday, you’d be throwing your arms around his neck right now. You’d be kissing him in front of everyone, happy and careless and lighter than a feather.
Instead, you’re filled with lead, staring at each other across a crowded room, strangers again.
You hate that you and Jungkook are turning into strangers. He must hate it too, because he walks over to you, and he nods towards the other room. You understand what he wants, and you follow him there to see that it’s indeed a bathroom, with showers on one side for the hockey players.
“You performed well tonight,” you tell him as the door finishes to close behind you, muffling the sounds from the dressing room.
The light is dim here, the neons above turned off. There’s only some light next to the mirrors, and it casts half of Jungkook’s face in shadows.
“Thank you,” he lets out, and he leans against the sink, folding his arms on his chest.
There’s another one of those excruciating silences, and you’re the one to interrupt it this time.
“Jungkook, I’m sorry for how things went down,” you say.
The words pain him. He shuts his eyes for a few seconds, and then says, “You have nothing to be sorry about. None of it was your fault.”
You look down at the floor. “I know. But… I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
You wait for him to continue, but it takes him a moment to collect himself.
“If I hadn’t lied…” he starts, and he lets out a bitter chuckle. “None of this would have happened.”
It’s true. But then again, you both didn’t know that those sasaengs were crazy enough to hurt you.
“You wouldn’t have run out, you wouldn’t have gotten assaulted…”
You wince at hearing that last word in his mouth. To hear that truth said aloud by him. But mostly, to hear the bitterness and guilt coating his words. They’re dripping with it, and it makes the hole in your chest expand.
“We couldn’t know that that was going to happen,” you remind him. “We shouldn’t blame ourselves for it.”
It’s strange to say it when you’ve spent months telling yourself the opposite. But as your therapist said during your appointment yesterday, the blame is not on you or Jungkook, but on the people that attacked you.
“Say it as much as you want, Y/n, but it was my fault.”
His words fall like rocks on a thin layer of ice, shattering it. And then they plunge in icy water, sinking in your chest to lodge themselves between your ribs.
“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper, taking a step towards him.
Your eyes are wet. He’s blurring behind the tears, and you blink them away. And you feel guilty, so so fucking guilty, because you know a part of you is putting the blame on him. It’s a disgusting part of you, one that searches for a reason for what happened to you. It’s one thing to tell yourself that only the attackers were to blame, but it’s another to believe it.
Though you reckon you don’t actually think Jungkook is to blame for it. He’s to blame for the lie that got you to run, but he asked you to stay.
How many times did he ask you to stay before you ran outside?
“We both know that’s a lie,” Jungkook says, and he sighs deeply, pushing his hair back before folding his arms on his chest again.
“Jungkook, it wasn’t your fault,” you repeat with more conviction. “It’s important that you tell yourself that.”
He just looks at you as you step closer to him until you’re right in front of him, so close you can see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his lip.
“You didn’t stab me. You didn’t plan for those people to attack me. You couldn’t know it was going to happen.”
You don’t know who you’re trying to convince here. And as you keep talking, you realize you’re trying to convince yourself.
You’re tired of that ugly part of yourself trying to hold him responsible for things he didn’t do.
“Yes, you lied. Yes, that was shitty. But you didn’t tell me to leave that night. You told me to stay. I’m the one that didn’t listen and ran out and…” You frown, because you’re once again faced with the void in your memories. “And then those crazy people were there. But you saved my life. I’m still here because of you.”
A tear rolls on his cheek, and you don’t resist the instinct to dry it for him. Your thumb lingers on his skin for a second, and then your hand falls at your side again.
“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”
He looks at you, his eyes shining silver. And then you’re cupping his cheek, and he’s leaning into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.
“I just can’t get the image of you lying there out of my mind,” he admits in a whisper. “It’s engraved so deep in my brain.” He gulps, and you see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I dream about it every single night.”
“I have meds for the nightmares,” you tell him. “Maybe you could look into those?”
He straightens, and your hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a heartbeat before you drop it.
“I tried therapy, and it didn’t help.”
You frown. “Of course it didn’t. It’s only been a few months.”
Jungkook remains silent this time, just looking down at you with that same gutwrenching sorrow in his eyes.
“You have to do it for longer,” you tell him. “I’ve been seeing the therapist every couple of days ever since I was out of the hospital. And I still have a long way to go.”
Still, he just stares at you.
“Please try, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Don’t give up on yourself.”
He chuckles, and it’s a choked sound that seems more painful than anything. “What’s the point, though? I still lost you in the end.”
You don’t know what else there is to break in you, but it does break at hearing his words. “But you don’t have to lose yourself.”
“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that week in November,” he reveals, and tears roll down your cheeks, coming too suddenly for you to try to stop them. “I loved you.”
You don’t miss his use of the past tense, and you think it’s better that way. It’s better if the feelings died with the pain of the last few months. Because you wouldn’t be able to be with him.
You don’t think you’d be able to heal by his side. Because he’s a reminder of what happened, whether you like it or not.
The universe made it impossible for you and Jeon Jungook to be together in the end.
“And I would have said yes,” you reply, your voice wavering with the tears. “I would have told you I loved you back, but that didn’t happen. And it’s unfortunate, and really fucking sad, but we both need to move on.” You wipe your cheeks, closing your eyes to try and find strength for your next words. “We owe it to each other.”
He’s crying too. You’re both two broken fucking messes, but you’re allowed your closure. No matter how much it hurts.
“But what if I don’t want to move on?” he asks. “I’m still in that fucking hospital room with you, Y/n. I was so scared you were never going to wake up.”
“But I did.” You meet his gaze, standing strong in the face of the grief breaking his eyes. “I did and I’m here today, and I want us both to be able to move on and heal.”
“You came here to tell me this?” he lets out, like he can’t believe it. “I thought…” He pauses, shuts his eyes tight. “Jimin said…” Another pause. “I wanted to believe you wanted to reconnect.”
“Jungkook, I can’t…”
“I miss you so much. So fucking much, every day. It doesn’t make sense without you.”
“Jungkook.”
“No!” he practically yells. “You don’t get to say my name like this. Why did you even come here if it was to tell me this?”
You don’t know where that anger is coming from, but anger is a lot easier to face than grief.
“Because we deserved closure.”
He laughs, and it’s so pained, so sad, and you need to leave.
You’re about to break irreparably, and you don’t want him to witness it.
“You don’t think I got closure when you asked me to leave after I was at your bedside for a week and a half?”
“You texted me for weeks after that,” you remind him.
He turns around, gripping the side of the sink. “So you saw those texts, but never got around to reply?”
You sob. It wracks through you even though you try to stop it, and Jungkook curses loudly.
“I didn’t know what to say,” you admit, and it’s true.
Just like with Mingyu, you didn’t know what to say. So you chose the coward way out, and stayed silent instead.
“That’s fucking bullshit.” He turns the faucet on, and then bends down to splash water in his face. You don’t know why he does it, but when it’s done and the tap is off, he straightens, meeting your gaze in the mirror with water dripping down his face, mixing with his tears. “I nearly killed myself during those weeks. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, couldn’t spend more than a minute awake without being drunk because all I could see was you in that fucking alley. And I was hoping you’d come back, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to reply to me.”
“I was healing from getting beaten up and stabbed,” you throw back. “I did not have energy for anything else, Jungkook.”
The fight leaves him, and his head hangs low, his hair hiding his features from you. He takes a deep breath that breaks on a choked sob, and you just watch him cry while you cry too, and you wonder if that’s the last thing you’ll do together.
Cry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers when he’s calmed down. “I’m sorry I got mad.”
You reach out, almost touching his back, but you stop yourself before your fingers find the fabric of his shirt. “It’s okay. It really is okay.”
And it is. Because it’s better if all the feelings are out instead of festering in his chest or yours, isn’t it?
“How can it be okay?” he asks.
“We promise each other we’ll move on,” you whisper. “We move on and we heal.”
He’s crying again, and he turns back around to look at you. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Try therapy for real,” you tell him. “It will help.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“It will,” you insist. “I promise.”
There’s a silence of you holding each other’s gaze, and you take his features in. Commit them to memory, locking them in your heart next to that hole. Though, as you put them there, you realize that hole was always shaped like him.
Will always be shaped like him, too.
“So, this is it?” he asks.
You nod, finding yourself unable to speak. Jungkook curses, and then he pulls you to him, wrapping you in his embrace. You hide your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist as you cry again. He rests his chin on the top of your head, and he holds you tight. For a second, you think the pieces of you are glueing back together, and you hold onto him, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. You let his scent wrap around you, let him hold you.
Your heart beats in sync with his, breaking along with his. Jungkook is the first to break the silence.
“I’ll miss you.”
The tears come faster, and you hold him tighter, too. “I’ll miss you too.”
He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll read all of your books,” he promises, his voice heavy with emotion.
“And I’ll listen to all of your songs,” you promise back.
“I’ll never forget you.”
You know he won’t. And you won’t either. In another life, Jeon Jungkook was your soulmate.
“Me neither. But I promise I will heal, and I really want you to heal, too.”
He doesn’t say anything for a time, just holding you close. And then he whispers, “I promise I will try.”
You really hope he does.
Prev | Next
☆☆☆☆☆
i am fucking sobbing again and again. this story really is the saddest i've ever written, i'm so sorry. let me know what you think of this chapter! and feel free to scream at me
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter deals with heavy themes)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: mentions of the assault, some people recognize oc, a whole bunch of trauma and learning to live with it, cursing, a tough but needed conversation, mentions of suicidal thoughts, it is a really sad chapter all in all
☆word count: 12k
☆a/n: another sad one tbh, i'm sorry. I hope you guys still enjoy it <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Wednesday, February 11th
You haven’t been back in your home country for a while now. Last time you were here, summer blasted at the world outside, Chelsea’s wedding at the summit of it all, but now winter has closed its clutches around the city you grew up in, and part of you wishes you were back in Korea, where the weather has been a little warmer over the last few days.
But now that your ribs have healed, you’ve decided to come home for a while, to stay with your family and visit Stella in person, along with the publishing house. They were wanting to set up a meeting with you whenever you were ready to discuss your plans in terms of writing for the next few months considering you haven’t done anything since…
Since your assault.
They’ve made it clear that there is no pressure though, repeating it multiple times while you were sitting across from them earlier. They said that they pushed you to release your last book a lot faster than they usually do, and they want to give you a break while you focus on healing.
They claimed they’ll be there whenever you’re ready again, but you know the publishing world is cutthroat. There’s a chance they’ll have moved to the next big sensation by then and, strangely, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not because of being numb like you were in December, but just because your energy is focused elsewhere right now.
After consulting the doctors back in Korea, you’ve managed to convince them to lower the dose of your meds just a little bit. Indeed, you’ve been wanting to feel something, craving emotions other than the overwhelming sadness you get whenever you end up thinking about a boy with doe eyes and soft lips. It’s been a strange adjustment, but you like it better like this.
You want to face the emotions head on to be able to heal instead of just pretending that nothing ever happened. You’ve been practicing going outside alone back in Seoul, just to stand outside of your building for a little while before coming back in. You even managed a short walk five minutes away from your condominium not too long before you came back to your home country, but that’s all you’ve managed to do on your own so far.
So Jennie came all the way here with you, as shooting for her movie wrapped up at the end of January. With her, or with Hyunseok, you’ve been able to live some sort of a… normal life. You’ve gone to a restaurant twice, visited Jennie’s place once, and you even went shopping with Hyunseok last week, but they always had to come meet you at your place first.
But this is good. Being back home, so far away from all the trauma, is good. It’s practice from being away from your comfort zone, and it’s been healing.
You don’t think you’ll ever get back to how you were before the assault, some innocence forever stolen from you, but you’re already doing better.
Support goes a long way, in situations like this one. And maybe you won’t ever be able to walk around at night alone again, but at least you have people that understand it. And you don’t think it matters – you can always take a taxi if you need to get to places alone. But you haven’t had to do anything alone once since it all happened, Hyunseok coming with you to every single one of your medical appointments.
Your therapist thinks you’re doing admirable progress, and fast. You reckon it’s all because of her. Her clinical insight, her gentle approach, and the way she makes you feel seen and understood has really been helping with dealing with the anxiety you’ve developed.
You haven’t developed PTSD. She said maybe it’ll show up later, in ways you just haven’t encountered yet, but you have been trying to be positive.
The anxiety is enough, and how would you even develop PTSD about something you don’t remember? You’re no expert in mental health, though, and you know the brain works in weird ways. You could indeed eventually develop PTSD, but so far you’ve been okay. You reckon that it helps that you take meds that fully prevent you from dreaming.
You still remember the nightmares that you had before they gave you the meds. Well, you don’t remember the nightmares exactly, but you remember the fear, the terror that lingered after you woke up from them. Maybe that was PTSD, and maybe you’ve just been keeping it at bay with medication. But if it works, it works, and you won’t complain. You want to learn to be as normal as possible again. You want to be independent from people, you want to move on from what happened. With that drive, your therapist thinks you’ll be able to learn to manage everything faster than most people do.
What she doesn’t understand is, you need to go back to normal. You need to be able to do the things you used to, or else you’ll go insane. One of the reasons why you really wanted to come back home was because it allowed you to be away from your apartment for a while. It’s a nice apartment, though very small, but it’s been driving you insane these past weeks, making you feel like an animal in a cage.
But being here, even though it’s cold and there are feet of snow on the lawn in front of your parents’ house in the suburbs, has been freeing. You left some heaviness back in Korea that you hope won’t return when you go back…
If you go back. You’ve been starting to think of cutting your year abroad short to come back here instead, but you haven’t made a decision yet.
“That went… decently well,” Stella says next to you as you walk out of the publishing house, snowflakes swirling down from the clouded sky.
They’re lazy, chasing each other in a slow waltz as they fall, and they’re already littering the sidewalk, snow crunching under your feet as you walk towards the coffeeshop where Jennie is waiting for you.
“It did,” you agree. “But honestly Stella… I don’t know if I’ll be able to write anytime soon.”
“That’s okay,” she reassures you. “I am ready to fight tooth and nail to keep them off your back. You’re allowed to take all the time that you need.” She flashes a quick smile. “Besides, they’re kind of biting their tongue now that they’ve had bad reviews about how the book felt rushed.”
Indeed, those have come out since you’ve published. You didn’t really pay it any mind as you were lost in the daze induced by your assault, but there has been a lot of comments about how the book felt rushed compared to your other books.
It was rushed. They pushed you like crazy to get a book out in under a year. You felt like you could do it, and you’re proud of what you did with the time that you had, but it was to be expected. Indeed, typos were found in the book, which they wouldn’t have had it undergone more revision. Some of the prints had pages missing, others were printed the wrong way…
A lot of mistakes that would have been avoided if the book wasn’t rushed. But thankfully, the story has only received praises, so the bad reviews haven’t gone to your head too much.
You’d warned the publishing house that this would happen, and they refused to listen. So it’s on them, and you won’t take responsibility for their shortcomings.
“Yeah,” you let out.
“You take your time with everything, okay?” Stella says. “And if you need to stop writing for a while, know that I’ll be there whenever, or if ever you decide to write again.”
“Thank you.” You glance her way, lips curled upwards. “I’m sure I’ll go back to writing eventually. It’s just, with the concussion and healing I just… don’t feel like it.”
“Which is totally normal and expected,” she replies. “No one is actually expecting you to start writing right now. And if they do, I’ll beat the shit out of them. Metaphorically.”
If she realizes that she accidentally alluded to your own assault, she doesn’t let it show. You’re thankful for it – the hardest part of it all is when people act like something happened to you. Like your brothers, who have been incredibly awkward since you came home.
Like they expect you to break if they say something. It makes it all too real, and it’s the last thing you need.
You snort. “That sounds a little excessive.”
“You know I’d go to war for you,” Stella adds.
You do know. Your mother told you she almost flew to Korea when she found out what happened to you, claiming she wanted to bring justice to the assholes that attacked you. Like she was the heroine of a book, maybe even the main character from your book, who did fly to Korea after her father was killed after all.
“I’d go to war for you too,” you tell her.
She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a half hug. She’s taller than you, and she leans her head on yours for a few seconds. “I love you, Y/n. I know I’m your agent and you literally pay me for this, but I love you.”
Your gaze grows wet, and you quickly blink it away as you reach a red light. You stare at the hand indicating for you to wait before crossing the street, taking a deep breath.
“You’re family at this point,” you tell her. “My mother said you and Allie should come have dinner this weekend. She’ll make her roast beef.”
“I would kill for your mother’s roast beef,” she declares. “I’ll check with Allie, but we could probably come Friday. We have something with the in-laws on Saturday.”
“I’ll let my mother know.”
The hand turns to a little person walking, and you cross the street, reaching the coffeeshop. Jennie is inside, and you see two teenagers talking to her excitedly through the window. She’s smiling to them politely, but you can tell she’s a little uncomfortable.
“Gotta go rescue Jennie,” you tell Stella, and she glances inside, wincing.
“You’d think she would get recognized less here,” Stella says with a sigh. “I’d help, but I have a meeting with another author.”
“Cheating, I see,” you tease.
She chuckles, and then she pulls you into a tight hug. “I’d never cheat on you.”
You snort, returning the hug. “I know you wouldn’t.”
You say goodbye, and Stella waves as she heads towards where her car is parked a little down the street. You get into the coffeeshop before she reaches it though, and the bells above the door ring as the door shuts behind you, the warm coffee-scented atmosphere wrapping around you like another warm hug.
You head towards Jennie, and she spots you between the two girls in front of her. Her features relax as she notices you, and she gets up from her chair.
“Well, it was nice to meet you two,” she says as you near her, and the two girls look at you, gaze widening.
“Oh, Jungkook’s girlfriend!”
You think your heart drops to the floor. Hell, you think it turned to glass and shattered upon impact.
You are not Jungkook’s girlfriend. You’d never be his girlfriend, not after everything that happened.
“Let’s go,” Jennie says as she sees the look on your face. “Hope you girls enjoy the concert.”
She walks to you as she’s putting her coat on, her scarf and purse clutched in one hand, and she grabs your arm, pulling you behind her. It doesn’t take too long before you’re back outside, winter grasping at your exposed skin once more. It makes your cheek prickle, and you wish you had a scarf to hide your face in.
You forgot it in Korea. And didn’t bother to get one here, though you reckon you could have stolen one of your mother’s scarves.
“Oh my God,” Jennie lets out as she quickly wraps her own bright red scarf around her neck. “They were not leaving me alone.” She sighs, glancing at you. “I’m sorry they said that.”
You shrug. “A lot of people have assumed we’re dating after what happened.”
And it’s true. The comments on your posts on Instagram are filled with such thoughts, mixed throughout the comments about your book.
“I hate that people just assume,” Jennie grumbles, and then she looks across the street, where your father’s SUV is parked. “Want to go home?”
You nod, digging in your purse to retrieve the keys. “Yeah.”
You’d originally planned to stop for food on the way, but as you’re driving home, your mother calls to say she made your favourite soup, and that she can make you grilled cheese when you get home. She doesn’t ask about the meeting, which you’re relieved about.
You’re kind of tired of talking about writing for today. You just want to go home, wrap yourself in a blanket and watch some stupid show on Netflix with Jennie. But Jennie did not get the memo, because the second you hang up with your mother, she says, “Hope your meeting went well.”
You wince internally, checking your mirrors as you switch lanes for the slower one. “Yeah, it did. They seemed…” you trail off, searching for the right word. “Understanding, but I’m not sure if it was a load of bullshit.”
“Hopefully not.” You feel her gaze on your profile, and you quickly glance her way before resuming your attention on the highway. “I feel like that whole meeting could have been an email. Kind of cruel to make you come all the way here for that.”
“Well, I was coming here regardless,” you point out. “Might as well just go, you know?”
“Fair.” There’s a short silence, only interrupted by the squeak of the wipers as they move across the windshield. “How are you feeling, by the way?”
“In general?” you ask, but you don’t wait for her to reply. “Good. Just… tired.”
“I mean, it was a long day outside of the house,” she says, even though it wasn’t that long. “Makes sense that you’d feel tired.”
You meet her gaze for a heartbeat or two. “Honestly… It’s easier here.”
“Yeah?”
You nod. “It’s so far from everything that happened, you know?” You shrug. “Makes it easier to forget it ever happened.”
“That’s good,” Jennie gently says. “Really good.”
You smile, but it’s sad. “Maybe I should move back here.”
The silence that follows is heavy, though filled with understanding. Especially when Jennie breaks it to say, “You have to do what is right for you. If you think that that is what you need, then I fully support it, even if I’ll miss you.”
“I just think…” You chuckle, even though there is nothing funny about it at all. “I just think it’d be better, you know?”
“That makes sense.”
And you really think it does. The more you think of it, the more it does make sense. You’d move back in with your parents. You could claim the basement as your own, as it’s already an apartment that one of your brothers stayed in during college. It even has its own separate door. You could take time away from everything, with the other half of your support circle, to heal and rebuild yourself. You’d have to change therapists, but you had a therapist here in the past and could probably reach out to her.
And you’d be far away from him. From the reminders of him, from the moments you shared together. You wouldn’t have to live with those memories, to be haunted by them anymore.
You doubt there’s any better way to heal than to be far from everything about him. Or far from almost everything.
They have concerts here this weekend. Two of them, one on Friday and one on Saturday. Jennie mentioned it in passing to you as you were flying home, and you pretended you didn’t hear. She hasn’t talked about it again, and apart from the posters and ads you’ve seen in the city, it’s like he’s not here.
He isn’t. He’s most likely still in some other city. At least you’ve been telling yourself that constantly.
Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to leave the house for a whole other reason.
Later that evening, when you and Jennie sit on the couch in the basement under a thick, fluffy blanket, binge-watching some reality TV show, you glance at Jennie. She’s been on her phone the whole time, most likely talking to Taehyung, and you watch as she smiles softly. She looks younger like this, without any makeup, her celebrity personality stripped away.
“You’re not even paying attention,” you tease her, gently kicking her under the blanket.
She chuckles. “Mingee likes Seungil,” she says. “And Mina Sue is just mad.”
“Okay, maybe you’re paying attention a little,” you admit. “But who are you texting like this?”
“Tae,” she replies. “He wants us to go to the concert on Saturday.”
You freeze for the second time today. This time, your heart stays in your chest, but you immediately say, “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going to their concert.”
Jennie just stares at you unblinkingly, clearly unimpressed.
“What?” you let out.
“Why not?” she asks.
You widen your gaze, pausing the TV. “What do you mean, why not?”
“It’s been better here, yeah?”
You frown. “It’s been better because I’m away from everything.”
“Right. Sorry.” Jennie sighs, glancing at her phone. “Would you be upset if I went without you?”
“Of course not!” you quickly say. “You miss Tae, and he’ll be right next door. Go see him.”
“But I’m here for you, not for him.”
Fuck, you love her so bad.
“Babe, he’s your boyfriend, I’m just happy you get to see him after all this time apart.”
Indeed, Taehyung only managed to go back to Korea for a few days during the holidays, though some of them were spent with his family while Jennie was with hers.
“I’d stay with him Saturday evening, though. You sure that would be okay with you?”
You smile. “Yeah, I’ll just stay here with my parents. They’re not bad company.”
She snorts. “Your parents are adorable.”
Indeed, they are. They’ve always loved each other deeply, which is definitely why you grew up to be such a romantic, and a romance writer too.
That settles the conversation, as Jennie smiles a little wider while she replies to Taehyung, clearly telling him that she’ll go. And you can almost imagine yourself in her position, texting someone else.
For a moment, you see the scene from an outside perspective like it’s a movie playing on the TV. You see it as you stand on the edge of the gaping hole in your chest, looking down at it.
In another universe, you never get assaulted by the sasaengs outside of Jungkook’s house. In that universe, you would have made your relationship official while he was in Korea. You’d be here on this couch with Jennie excited to go to the concert with her, to see him after the months apart.
You’d be backstage, cheering for him, holding him close whenever he’d get off the stage even though he’d be sweaty. He’d tell you he loves you, and you’d tell him you love him back.
In that universe, you got your happy ending. Not this bullshit that has fucked you up so bad you doubt you’ll ever be the same again.
You’re crying. You don’t know when you started crying, but Jennie looks up, putting her phone down.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” she asks. “I’ll stay, it’s okay.”
You put your hands on your face as a sob wracks through you, making you choke around nothing. And you try to speak, but no words come out, staying lodged in your throat. Jennie pulls you to her chest, holding you tight.
You wish she could hold you tight enough to keep all your pieces together, but you fear only one person could do that, and you don’t want to ever see him again.
You can’t see him. Not when you know it’ll awaken trauma and pain and you just seek healing. But fuck, you wish the conditions surrounding you and him were different. You wish the end wasn’t so fucking dramatic, like something you’d see in a horror movie.
But you don’t fit in his world. Not when there will always be people threatening you for what you are to him.
“What’s wrong?” Jennie asks again as you cling to her like you would to a buoy in a storm.
“He’ll be here,” you choke out.
She rubs your back. “Oh, babe.”
“I’m so tired, Jennie, I’m so fucking tired.”
You think she’s crying too. She’s shaking, and she’s so sympathetic you know your pain breaks her heart just as much as it breaks yours.
“I know.”
She rocks you from side to side as you cry, but you just keep on breaking, like you should have when you first woke up from the coma.
You didn’t deserve what happened to you. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of clinically ill jealousy. You didn’t deserve for him to lie. You didn’t deserve every single shitty thing that happened.
Where would you be, if you’d never gone to Korea?
Home. You’d be home. Here, not the one you found in his arms.
You wish you’d never gone to Seoul at all.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do,” you say when the sobs have lessened, even though the tears just keep on coming. “Everyone just says that I just need time to heal, but my body has healed, and I don’t remember shit about it all, yet it all just still fucking hurts.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Jennie sounds desperate, and you hate it so much you wish you’d never burdened her with the darkness in your head.
It’s been there since the assault. You were just good at pretending it wasn’t.
“There’s nothing to say.” You pull back, sitting back in your spot as you glance at the paused TV. “I think part of me will always see him as responsible for what happened in some way, and I feel so fucking bad about it.”
Silence follows the truth. It’s heavy, weighing a thousand pounds, and a glance Jennie’s way shows that she’s indeed crying.
“I think that’s the problem,” you say as she blurs behind a new onslaught of tears. “I’m aware it’s not his fault, but if he hadn’t been a celebrity… None of this would have ever happened. And maybe we’d be together today. Maybe we’d be in love and I’d be able to be with him without thinking I might get killed for it. How crazy is it that I almost was killed just because I know him?”
“Y/n…”
“No, but it’s different for you, cause you’re a celebrity too. People expect him to be with someone like you. Not with the random writer from another country.”
“You should never listen to what the fans say,” Jennie whispers, and then she adds, voice stronger, “Y/n, and trust me when I say this, but it doesn’t matter who you are. They hated me for years when I was first dating Tae, long before the military service. And then they saw how depressed he got after we broke up the first time, and when we got back together, everyone was happy.” She pauses, wipes her cheeks. “At the end of the day, true fans just want them to be happy. The people that did that to you…”
You’re crying so hard again you have to pull the blanket to your face.
“The people that did that to you weren’t fans. They were criminals, and they’re in prison for it. And honestly part of me thinks they deserve much worse than prison, because I see the impact it had on you and I fucking miss the girl that you were before.”
She chuckles sadly. “Like, who’d just randomly go to the basement of a club with someone she just met? More than that, who cheers up someone they don’t know like you did that night? You were so strong, you still are so fucking strong, but I met you and I was like ‘Damn, I wish that I was like her’. And that’s why I wanted to be friends with you, because you were so down to earth and fun to be around and just…”
She stops, taking a deep breath.
“I see the way they broke you. I see you fighting to stay afloat and I wish they got a lot worse than prison time.” The words are said with so much anger you feel its fire. “And I wish I could fix everything for you.”
She falls silent, like all the fight suddenly drained out of her. You look at each other, and you wish you could go back a few months ago and tell Jungkook to not come back to Korea. Maybe none of this would have happened in the end.
“I wish you and Jungkook would have gotten to love each other,” Jennie adds in the barest hint of whisper. “I wish you both were not hurting like you are now. And I wish he’d never lied. I know he hates himself for it. Hates himself for everything that happened.”
“It’d break him if he knew what I told you,” you say when she stops talking again. “Jennie, I hate it so bad. But I feel like, if I see him, everything will come rushing back.”
“I know.” She wipes the silver lining her gaze again. “I understand now. And I’m so, so sorry you feel this way.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“Mad?” You give her a nod, and she tilts her head to the side, confused. “No, why would I be?”
You shrug. “Because it’s unfair that I feel this way. That I feel like it’s his fault.”
“Babe, you went through hell. I think that gives you the right to feel any way you want.”
“Does it, though?”
She thinks about it for a moment, and then says, “Listen, I wish you wouldn’t. I obviously wish my two friends could be happy together, because you guys seemed so happy in Jeju. You both lit up whenever the other was there, or was mentioned. But what happened got in the way of that, and it’s just life. It’d be useless and stupid to be mad at one of you for it. Neither of you is responsible.”
A tear slips on your cheek, streaming down to your chin, where it lingers without falling. “I know I promised you I would speak to him one day, but I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“You don’t have to,” she reassures you. “Babe, you really don’t have to.”
“I just…” you trail off.
And as you trail off, another one of those things you’ve ignored comes bursting out of the hole in your chest. Because what if you don’t talk to him, and spend a life regretting it? What’s a lifetime of regret over a conversation that might hurt?
What if you need to face the trauma to finally move forward?
What if talking to him would bring more peace than pain? And what if it does bring more pain? Wouldn’t the pain catch up to you eventually anyway? You can’t spend a lifetime trying to pretend you and him ended that night. Because you didn’t. The feelings are still down there in the gaping hole in your chest, just waiting for the moment to come out. Like they did earlier as you imagined what it would have been like in another universe. And even though it’s painful, even though you don’t think you’ll still be standing by the end of it all, maybe you should confront the feelings.
Maybe closure is what you need.
It’s like the storm cloud passes suddenly. Breathing becomes easier, the hole in your chest decreases until it’s not crushing your lungs anymore. You feel like you’re lighter, though that might just be post-crying clarity. But the storm cloud does pass, and there’s sunlight on the horizon. Piercing through it all, painting the clouds with gold.
And maybe you and him were just that. The golden hour before the sun sets. No matter how ephemeral it was, no matter how it ended with darkness thicker than a moonless night…
You deserve closure.
“Actually,” you let out. You gulp, meeting Jennie’s gaze. “Actually, I want to talk to him.”
She blinks a few times, and a tear escapes and falls on her cheek. “Are you sure?”
You nod. “I am.”
And you realize it’s the first time you haven’t lied since you woke up from the coma.
Friday, February 13th
Performing has never been so hard as it is tonight. Jungkook plays with a lump in his throat, his energy off all night. He’s been trying his best, telling himself that even if you’re not here, performing for your city is like having a piece of you here with him…
But the more he plays, the harder it gets, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it through the full concert. Especially not when they finally have a break, and he runs off stage first, Taehyung close behind.
He needs out. He needs to breathe, to drink something so that the pain can fade for just a few seconds. But he’s been good at avoiding alcohol. It’s dangerous when he’s in this mental state. And though he was able to have a beer the other day without anything bad happening, he was not here.
He was not in the city you grew up in.
Hell, he feels like he sees you in the crowd. You’re fucking everywhere here, and he can’t do it anymore.
Jungkook realizes he’s crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Namjoon appears next to them. “Breathe, JK. You’re okay.”
Jungkook laughs. He laughs, because it’s absurd to think that he’s okay.
He’ll never be okay again.
“Do you need to sit the rest of the concert out?” Namjoon asks. “We got the track ready to play if needed.”
“I want to play,” Jungkook says. “I just can’t, I see her everywhere out there.”
“Then take a break,” Taehyung says. “Every single person in the arena understands.”
Jungkook knows they do. The outpour of love he’s been on the receiving end of since he’s returned to tour with the boys has been unlike anything from before. It’s been healing in some way. To think that at least he didn’t lose that. To see that the fans, the real ones, understood.
But they’ll never understand the pain that he carries every single fucking day.
“I just want to be strong for the fans,” he says.
Taehyung pulls him to his chest, hugging him tight. “You are strong, JK. Some concerts are just harder, and that’s okay.”
Jungkook nods as he pulls back from the hug. He feels nauseous, and he reckons he really needs some air.
“I’ll try to come back for the encore.”
He doubts he’ll be able to, but he feels too guilty for abandoning the boys like this. So as they return on the stage, he drinks water, sits with a blanket on his shoulders. And he tries to meditate, tries to do some breathing exercises that were recommended to him in the single therapy appointment he managed to go to. It helps a little, and he feels calmer when the boys return backstage before the encore.
“You sure you can do this?” Namjoon asks as they all stand in a semi-circle around Jungkook.
He nods. “I have to.”
Namjoon holds his gaze, and then claps Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”
And then he’s back on the stage, sitting at his drumset. He grabs the sticks, and they feel foreign in his hands. Less so when he closes his eyes to play, and the rhythm carries him through the first song of the encore.
But then he makes a mistake on the second song. It’s a minor mistake, but it hurts so bad he starts crying, right there in the spotlight. He stops playing, unable to continue, and Taehyung looks at him from where he’s been playing the trumpet, and he runs over to Jungkook as the song loses yet another instrument.
Jimin is the next to join them, and then all the members run to Jungkook, and they hug him, like they’re protecting him from the world outside. The fans are screaming, and Jungkook wonders if he can just disappear through the floor.
It’s one thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of your closest friends, in front of your family. It’s an entire other thing to be vulnerable and crying in front of the whole world.
To think it’ll get to you…
He almost texted you earlier today. Being here in your city made him feel closer to you than he’s felt in months, but when he opened the conversation thread to see all the drunk texts he sent and you ignored, he broke down yet again.
He doesn’t know how to heal from losing you. From being responsible for what happened to you. From not running out in the street when he should have the second you went outside.
Where would he be now if he had? He likes to think that you would have made up, walked back into the house and he’d told you he loves you. But he was stupid, and prioritized someone that he never should have over you, and his mistakes led you to where you are now.
When the members pull back to reveal the crowd, Jungkook sees himself on the big screen. He looks terrible, and he chuckles as he wipes his cheeks. And then he grabs Seokjin’s mic, and gets up from his stool.
“Sorry about that,” he apologizes to the crowd, and the scream goes wild. “I just want to say…” He looks at all the members, and then dries another tear on his cheek as the arena quietens. “Please tell the people you love that you love them before you lose them. Please don’t let your pride get in the way.” People scream, and he knows it’s clear he’s speaking of you, but the fans have been there for him. “Love is the most important thing in life. Don’t ever forget that.”
He’s then crying too much again to say something more, and he hands the mic back to Seokjin as the members wrap him in a hug again. They end up leaving the stage without playing the rest of the encore, and though the fans scream outside for them to come back, Namjoon tells the staff to turn on the lights in the arena.
“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks Jungkook as they sit where he was earlier.
It’s strange and cold in here – it’s clearly a locker room for whatever hockey team the arena that they are in is for – and Jungkook doesn’t know what to reply.
He’s not feeling great. He’s feeling horrible. Broken, astray, part of his heart forever lost in the blood spilled that night. In the light going out of your eyes. In your cold skin and the ambulance ride.
Hell, he really thinks part of him really did die that night. He doubts he’ll ever recover from that.
“I wish I could just sleep through the next year,” Jungkook says.
He rubs his face, though it does nothing to soften the edges of his broken heart.
“If you need to go on hiatus again, you know that we’ll all support you, right?” Taehyung gently says.
Jungkook nods. “I know. But I don’t want to fail the fans.”
And mostly, he doesn’t want to have time to get lost in his head more than he already is. He barely found the way back the last time. Most likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Jennie.
“I don’t think the fans would feel like you’re failing them at all. What you went through…” Taehyung trails off. “Most people would not be here today if they were in your position.”
Jungkook shrugs. “I’m just doing what I have to do.”
“I know.” Taehyung sighs, and then he looks to the side, where Jimin’s been sitting in silence. “Listen, there’s something I didn’t tell you before.”
Jungkook raises his head from the vague spot he was staring at on the floor. “What?”
Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look that seems to hold a full conversation. “I thought it was better to not say anything before the concert tonight, so I didn’t say anything,” Taehyung says. “But Jennie and Y/n are here.”
Jungkook’s heart stops. “Here?”
Taehyung nods. “Not at the concert tonight but…”
“They’re coming tomorrow,” Jimin finishes for Taehyung.
Jungkook is sure he’s heard it wrong. He pinches his arm, trying to make sure he’s not stuck in one of his nightmares. “What?”
“Y/n came to visit family, and Jennie came with her,” Taehyung explains. “Since we were having concerts here, I invited Jennie.”
That makes sense. She’s his girlfriend, and they haven’t seen each other in months.
But why the fuck would you want to come?
“And Jennie told me she’d come with Y/n,” Taehyung adds. “I think she doesn’t want to leave her alone.”
His heart squeezes painfully, blood dripping between his ribs at the thought of you not being able to be left alone.
Are you doing as bad as he is? You went through worse than he did, after all.
He’s just a pathetic coward.
“Oh,” he lets out.
“They’ll be backstage,” Jimin adds. “If you think you can’t… see Y/n, you’re fully allowed to sit the concert out tomorrow.”
Another absurd thing to even consider. Because why wouldn’t he want to see you?
He’s been dying to see you. Been dying to talk to you, to hear your voice…
It’s like one of his nightmares turning into a dream come through.
“At the same time, figured you guys might need to talk?” Taehyung adds after he and Jimin exchange another long look. “What do you think?”
He thinks his heart is beating so fast all of a sudden it might just go into heart attack territory.
“I’ll be there,” Jungkook says with a nod.
“Just…” Jimin lets out. “She might not want to talk at all, you know? Just don’t get your hopes up.”
It doesn’t matter if you want to talk or not. The fact that he’ll see you, in the flesh…
It really is a dream come through.
Saturday, February 14th
You didn’t realize it was Valentine’s Day. Like the universe decided to bring you back to Jungkook on some sick, twisted joke of the holiday that represents everything you’ve lost. When you saw the date earlier while getting ready for the concert with Jennie, you cried.
She held you, rubbed your back soothingly, and said it was okay if you didn’t want to go. That she understood. You know she does, but ever since Wednesday, you’ve been feeling some sort of gentle peace at the idea of seeing him. So you held onto that peace, dried your tears, and steeled yourself to finish getting ready.
And now you’re being ushered backstage after Jennie showed the passes on her phone to security. You’re anxious, hands shaking, throat closing, and you reckon this might be a bad idea. But Jennie senses your unease, grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. The quiet show of support makes you grow emotional, but you blink the tears away, refusing to break down in front of strangers.
You cried enough last Wednesday. Now is not the time for tears anymore.
The first of the members you see is Taehyung, just as expected as he and Jennie have been texting. She let him know you got here the second you did, and so you’re not surprised he’s waiting outside of the dressing room, just wearing a white tank top. It’s tucked in his black pants, and he somehow looks elegant despite the simplicity of the look.
It makes sense. He and Jennie both have a simple elegance that just goes well together, even though they also can get extra sometimes.
Taehyung looks up from his phone as he hears you arrive, and his gaze catches on Jennie. You let go of her hand, pushing her towards him, and they run to each other, Taehyung picking her up the floor and spinning her in a circle before putting her down. It reminds you of the way Jungkook greeted you all those months ago, and you blink some more tears away as your gaze drops to the ground.
“Y/n,” Taehyung says once he’s done greeting his girlfriend.
Not expecting to hear him say your name, you look up, meeting his gaze. He smiles at you, so genuine you wonder what’s going on.
“I’m so happy you’re here today.”
Jennie gives you an encouraging nod next to him as you glance at her.
“Huh, thank you,” you let out, cheeks burning. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“How have you been doing?” he asks next.
Your throat is dry, uncomfortably so, and you clear it as you hold onto the strap of your purse tighter, wishing maybe Jennie would still be holding your hand.
“I’ve been okay,” you say, and it’s not quite a lie.
You haven’t been good, obviously, but you could be worse. You could be at the bottom of the barrel like you were on Wednesday, but you’re not. You’re standing in the arena where they’re having a concert later tonight, and you feel stronger than you’ve felt in months.
Taehyung nods, glancing at his girlfriend. “Are you guys ready to go in?”
You know the question is more for you than it is for Jennie, especially as they both look at you. You just stand there for a few seconds, wondering if you are, as a matter of fact, ready to see Jungkook, but then fate decides to choose for you, the door opening to reveal Jungkook on the other side.
He slams the door shut the second you meet his gaze like he’s a child caught doing something he shouldn’t, and you can’t help the small smile on your lips. Though you reckon the smile might be more nervous than anything, especially as it dies when the door opens again, only to reveal Jimin this time.
“Y/n!” Jimin lets out with far more enthusiasm than you expected from him.
You got along well in Jeju, that is true. But you haven’t had a single interaction with him since then, so you didn’t expect the camaraderie to have lingered all this time.
“Jimin,” you greet him with a small bow.
He walks over to you, leaving the door open, and you peek over his shoulder to try to see Jungkook, but he’s disappeared from view.
You hate that it disappoints you. That your heart sinks in your chest, but what could you expect? You’ve been ignoring him for months, and the last time you saw him, you just asked him to leave.
Jimin opens his arms, stopping in front of you with an eyebrow cocked in question like he’s not sure it’s okay to hug you. You were unaware you were on hugging terms with him at all, but the familiarity of the gesture is sweet, so you wrap your arms around him loosely. He pats your back gently, and then steps back to look at you.
“You look gorgeous tonight,” he says, and then he looks behind. He freezes in that position for a second, and then looks at you again. “I thought he was right behind me.”
You offer him a tight-lipped smile. “No worries.”
“I just want to say…” Jimin starts, and he glances around to make sure that no one is paying attention.
Besides Jennie and Taehyung, the staff that led you here left, and there are some body guards by the door that you recognize from having seen them before.
You think one of them is actually the one that was there when you first met Jennie and Jungkook at the club back in May.
“Be patient tonight?” Jimin finishes. “JK has been shitting himself all day, so…”
“Shut the fuck up,” Taehyung says from behind.
Jimin winces. “Yeah. Just… yeah, I guess you’ll see for yourself.”
It’s ominous. And there are shadows in Jimin’s eyes as he says it, like it’s worse than you might be expecting. It makes you even more anxious than you already were, and you gulp as you nod, meeting Jennie’s gaze.
“Okay,” you let out.
There’s a moment of awkward silence, and then Taehyung says something you don’t care to listen to, and you’re all filing into the dressing room, closing the door behind you.
The dressing room is hectic. There are stylists and makeup artists and hairstylists bustling around, getting everyone ready to go on stage. There are a few chairs in a corner, and the walls are lined with benches, a clear indication that this room is also where the hockey team gets ready before matches. You think the smell of sweat lingers in the air, typical of locker rooms like this one, but it’s mixed with the fumes from hairspray, so it’s hard to tell.
Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi are getting their hair done, and you glance around, trying to find a familiar doe-eyed boy. He’s nowhere to be seen, but you do spy Seokjin by a door that most likely leads to the bathroom. Seokjin spots you at the same time you do him, and he waves at you with a smile before walking into the bathroom.
Taehyung and Jimin leave you and Jennie shortly, having to get dressed, and Jennie pulls you to a table with an array of food – sandwiches, vegetables and water bottles. You grab a water bottle, opening it to take a swig of water that you hope will calm your nerves.
“You still okay?” Jennie asks.
You nod. “All good.”
“You let me know if you need to leave,” she adds, repeating what she’s already said a thousand times.
All you do is nod again, and then you glance toward the door leading to the bathroom. It opens, and Jungkook walks out, and for a moment, everything pauses around you – the sounds, Jennie’s arm as it was raising to her mouth, a cucumber in hand. The chatter fades, the hecticness of the room being replaced by a calm void. And in that void, there is you and Jungkook, your gazes meeting.
He’s changed. He’s lost a lot of weight over the months, something you’ve already realized from the pictures you saw of him online. His cheeks are gaunt, his hair longer than it was the last time you saw him. There’s a hollowness to his gaze, a sensation of deep emptiness that makes you feel like you’re falling, with nothing to catch you this time. He doesn’t smile at the sight of you. The corners of his lips twitch, which you reckon might have been his best try at a smile, but all you can see is the sadness in those doe eyes.
The longing and yearning that echoes in the hole in your chest can be found in his eyes, too. And it’s only then that you truly understand how bad he’s been doing.
It was one thing to hear it said. But it was hard to conceive that he was doing as bad as you were, yet seeing him standing there, with those dark circles under his eyes, his jaw clenching, you realize that Jungkook has been suffering too.
And it hurts. It hurts like someone put an iron stake in fire before planting it in your chest. It burns and splits you apart, and you turn around, eyes falling to the cucumber plate. The world returns to its regular speed around you, the sounds crashing back into you, and you take a deep breath that chokes on the way down.
Jennie wraps her arm around you, dropping her head on your shoulder.
“I’m okay,” you say before she speaks, sounding almost defensive. “I’m okay.”
“I know you are,” she replies encouragingly. “You’re strong, you’re beautiful, and if there’s anyone that can do this, it’s you.”
You lean your head on hers. “I love you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
You feel him behind you, your senses going in overdrive. Goosebumps prick at your skin, and you’re thankful you’re still wearing your coat to hide the evidence of how aware you are of him.
“Hey, Jennie,” Jungkook says behind you. “Y/n.”
You weren’t ready to hear him say your name. Hell, you could have had a thousand years to get ready to hear him say your name again and it wouldn’t have been enough. Indeed, it clutches at your heart so tight you think it might burst.
You turn around, taking a deep breath. Jungkook’s looking at Jennie, and you hate that it makes you sad. But it allows you to take a look at his face, to truly take in how much he’s changed, and you hate to see the heaviness on his features.
He looks like he’s at a funeral. Not getting ready for a rock concert. Though their newer music wasn’t as much rock as it is… a mix of funk, pop and rock music.
“Hey JK,” Jennie greets him back, and then she looks at you.
Which only leads him to look at you too, and air wooshes out of your lungs like he just punched your gut.
“Hey,” you let out, voice weak and small and so not strong like you wanted to be tonight.
He tries his luck at a smile again. It works more than it did earlier, though it doesn’t come near his eyes. His eyes remain sad, forlorn, and fuck it makes you want to hold onto him. It’s a visceral need, one you ignore by looking away, glancing at Jimin and Seokjin behind him, looking at you.
Gauging the situation, seeing if they’ll need to intervene. At least you think that they’re looking at you like they are for that reason.
“How have you been?” Jungkook asks, much like Taehyung did outside this room.
He’s asking you. Not Jennie, and Jennie taps your arm before walking away, giving you space. She doesn’t stray too far, like she too wants to make sure she’s close enough to intervene if needed. It makes you feel like she’s your chaperone, and you’d laugh at the thought if it wasn’t so fucking hard to stand in front of Jeon Jungkook.
“Honestly?” You wet your lips, glancing down at your hands as you fumble with the strap of your purse. “It’s been hard. But not as much as it could have been without the people around me.”
Jungkook smiles, and it once again does not quite reach his eyes. “That’s good to hear.”
You gulp, flashing a hint of a smile before returning the question to him. “What about you?”
He remains silent. His eyes gloss over like he gets lost in thoughts, and he stares at a spot behind you. You’re tempted to look behind to see if there’s something there, but you haven’t seen him in so long and he’s just, right, there, in front of you, and you can’t bring yourself to look away.
“I’ve had better days,” he eventually replies, and he pulls on his piercings.
It attracts your gaze to his lips, and you notice that they’re chapped, like he’s forgotten what chapstick is.
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “It is what it is.” He sighs, hands digging in the pockets of his pants. “It’s great to see you.”
“Likewise,” you echo.
It’s awkward. You both just stand there in silence for a little while, a world of unsaid words sitting between the two of you. But you don’t know where to start, don’t know what to say to bridge the gap between then and now. Jungkook doesn’t seem to fare any better than you, yet he holds your gaze. Says words with his eyes that you know his mouth won’t form. Because you’re not there anymore.
Too much has changed between you and Jeon Jungkook to ever say those words aloud. But you feel them on your skin, in your heart, deep in your soul, too. You feel them in the gaping hole in your chest, echoing off the walls over and over again.
Unable to stay in this silence, you say, “I hope the concert goes well tonight.”
He freezes, blinking a few times, and you reckon he might be blinking away tears. “You saw what happened yesterday?”
You did. And it only made you want to come here tonight even more. Because he clearly needs closure too.
“Yeah,” you let out. “I’m sorry.”
Another shrug of his shoulders. “It happens. It’s a little embarrassing when it’s in front of so many people, but it is what it is.”
“Yeah.” You take a deep breath, exhale slowly. “I’m glad I get to see you perform again.”
That same smile but not a smile reappears. “I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
“I will.”
Silence. You haven’t run out of things to tell Jungkook since way before August. Hell, after you hooked up after that concert in July, conversation with Jungkook was always easy. Never like this. Never like you have to pull the words out of each other.
It’s unnatural where it used to be as easy as breathing.
“Do you plan on staying after the concert?” he asks.
You glance at Jennie, who’s with Taehyung now, but she looks your way the second she feels your eyes on her.
“I don’t know,” you tell Jungkook as your gaze returns to him. “Are you guys doing something after?”
Jungkook pushes his hair back, though a stubborn strand falls on his forehead again. “They are. Pretty sure Tae and Jennie will just go back to the hotel.”
“They?” you repeat.
He sighs. “Yeah.”
A crease appears between your eyebrows. “You’re not planning to join them?”
His gaze drops to the ground. It takes him a few seconds to reply, and you almost wish he hadn’t. “I can’t really afford to be around alcohol too much.”
Oh.
“Ah,” you let out, and you gulp. “I understand that.”
He nods, remaining silent this time around. And for a short moment, you feel like you’re back in the hospital room, telling him to leave. You wonder, did his heart stay in that room, too?
“I wanted to –” he starts at the same time as you say, “It’s good that you –”
He gives a pained smile as he stops talking, motioning to you to keep going.
“It’s good that you know to avoid alcohol,” you say. “It’s a depressant.”
He frowns, yet nods his head. “Yeah.”
You wish you hadn’t said anything.
“You were going to say?”
“I wanted to apologize,” he says, “for…”
“Jungkook, we need you to get ready,” a staff member says as she stands awkwardly to the side.
Jungkook looks at her, and you gaze at his profile, at his nose you used to peck under the sheets in his bed. The memory flashes in your head, so real you think you could reach out and touch it. Grab it, and put it in your heart, too.
Maybe it’d fill the hole in your chest.
“Okay,” he lets out, and then he looks at you again. “I’ll talk to you later?”
His eyes are begging. Asking you to stay, to not leave again, though he was technically the one to leave in November. You give him a nod, and you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your mouth for a second. He frowns imperceptibly, and you just stare at those doe eyes, wondering how it is that you went from whispering sweet nothings to each other to whatever this is.
But you know how. You know it all too well. It’s scarred in your side, and definitely in your mind too. Even though you don’t remember it exactly, you remember the how all too well.
“Yes,” you say. “Let’s talk after the concert.”
His smile is truer then. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes still, but it lessens the gauntness of his features just enough for you to momentarily catch sight of the man he was before.
“We will.”
And with that, he’s walking away. You watch him go, your heart reaching for him as he looks over his shoulder to look at you. For a moment, you think he might walk back to you, might say what he was about to say before the staff member interrupted, but he doesn’t. He grabs the clothes he’s handed by a stylist, and he disappears in the other room to get dressed.
It takes a moment, and you’re all ushered to the actual backstage area before he comes out. You’re worried, looking back the way you came wondering if he realized he couldn’t do it. The members seem concerned too, but then Jungkook jogs to where you are, giving you a quick glance before he grabs his drumsticks from someone from production.
And then you watch them file onto the stage, and the music starts. It’s different to experience it from here, yet you feel yourself swaying to the beat, and you let it wash over you, let it carry you through the songs that they play out there. Jennie is beside you the whole time, and then they’re running off stage to quickly change and grab some water. Jungkook looks at you as he drinks, and you give him a smile that seems to give him a boost of energy. Indeed, he goes back on stage with a bounce to his steps, and it does ease some of the ache in your chest to see it.
The stage is healing for him. He’s told you that in the past, but you witness it in person tonight. Especially after the concert, when you all return to the dressing room, and congratulations are thrown around. Jungkook is smiling then, and you think it’s genuine. Because there’s a familiar twinkle in his eyes, though it burns out when he meets your gaze, his features growing serious.
And though everyone is talking around you, hugging and smiling widely, Jungkook just looks at you, and you look at him, and it’s like you’re alone again.
If you were in that universe you imagined last Wednesday, you’d be throwing your arms around his neck right now. You’d be kissing him in front of everyone, happy and careless and lighter than a feather.
Instead, you’re filled with lead, staring at each other across a crowded room, strangers again.
You hate that you and Jungkook are turning into strangers. He must hate it too, because he walks over to you, and he nods towards the other room. You understand what he wants, and you follow him there to see that it’s indeed a bathroom, with showers on one side for the hockey players.
“You performed well tonight,” you tell him as the door finishes to close behind you, muffling the sounds from the dressing room.
The light is dim here, the neons above turned off. There’s only some light next to the mirrors, and it casts half of Jungkook’s face in shadows.
“Thank you,” he lets out, and he leans against the sink, folding his arms on his chest.
There’s another one of those excruciating silences, and you’re the one to interrupt it this time.
“Jungkook, I’m sorry for how things went down,” you say.
The words pain him. He shuts his eyes for a few seconds, and then says, “You have nothing to be sorry about. None of it was your fault.”
You look down at the floor. “I know. But… I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
You wait for him to continue, but it takes him a moment to collect himself.
“If I hadn’t lied…” he starts, and he lets out a bitter chuckle. “None of this would have happened.”
It’s true. But then again, you both didn’t know that those sasaengs were crazy enough to hurt you.
“You wouldn’t have run out, you wouldn’t have gotten assaulted…”
You wince at hearing that last word in his mouth. To hear that truth said aloud by him. But mostly, to hear the bitterness and guilt coating his words. They’re dripping with it, and it makes the hole in your chest expand.
“We couldn’t know that that was going to happen,” you remind him. “We shouldn’t blame ourselves for it.”
It’s strange to say it when you’ve spent months telling yourself the opposite. But as your therapist said during your appointment yesterday, the blame is not on you or Jungkook, but on the people that attacked you.
“Say it as much as you want, Y/n, but it was my fault.”
His words fall like rocks on a thin layer of ice, shattering it. And then they plunge in icy water, sinking in your chest to lodge themselves between your ribs.
“It wasn’t your fault,” you whisper, taking a step towards him.
Your eyes are wet. He’s blurring behind the tears, and you blink them away. And you feel guilty, so so fucking guilty, because you know a part of you is putting the blame on him. It’s a disgusting part of you, one that searches for a reason for what happened to you. It’s one thing to tell yourself that only the attackers were to blame, but it’s another to believe it.
Though you reckon you don’t actually think Jungkook is to blame for it. He’s to blame for the lie that got you to run, but he asked you to stay.
How many times did he ask you to stay before you ran outside?
“We both know that’s a lie,” Jungkook says, and he sighs deeply, pushing his hair back before folding his arms on his chest again.
“Jungkook, it wasn’t your fault,” you repeat with more conviction. “It’s important that you tell yourself that.”
He just looks at you as you step closer to him until you’re right in front of him, so close you can see the scar on his left cheek and the mole under his lip.
“You didn’t stab me. You didn’t plan for those people to attack me. You couldn’t know it was going to happen.”
You don’t know who you’re trying to convince here. And as you keep talking, you realize you’re trying to convince yourself.
You’re tired of that ugly part of yourself trying to hold him responsible for things he didn’t do.
“Yes, you lied. Yes, that was shitty. But you didn’t tell me to leave that night. You told me to stay. I’m the one that didn’t listen and ran out and…” You frown, because you’re once again faced with the void in your memories. “And then those crazy people were there. But you saved my life. I’m still here because of you.”
A tear rolls on his cheek, and you don’t resist the instinct to dry it for him. Your thumb lingers on his skin for a second, and then your hand falls at your side again.
“It wasn’t your fault. It never was.”
He looks at you, his eyes shining silver. And then you’re cupping his cheek, and he’s leaning into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.
“I just can’t get the image of you lying there out of my mind,” he admits in a whisper. “It’s engraved so deep in my brain.” He gulps, and you see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I dream about it every single night.”
“I have meds for the nightmares,” you tell him. “Maybe you could look into those?”
He straightens, and your hand hangs in the air between the two of you for a heartbeat before you drop it.
“I tried therapy, and it didn’t help.”
You frown. “Of course it didn’t. It’s only been a few months.”
Jungkook remains silent this time, just looking down at you with that same gutwrenching sorrow in his eyes.
“You have to do it for longer,” you tell him. “I’ve been seeing the therapist every couple of days ever since I was out of the hospital. And I still have a long way to go.”
Still, he just stares at you.
“Please try, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Don’t give up on yourself.”
He chuckles, and it’s a choked sound that seems more painful than anything. “What’s the point, though? I still lost you in the end.”
You don’t know what else there is to break in you, but it does break at hearing his words. “But you don’t have to lose yourself.”
“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend that week in November,” he reveals, and tears roll down your cheeks, coming too suddenly for you to try to stop them. “I loved you.”
You don’t miss his use of the past tense, and you think it’s better that way. It’s better if the feelings died with the pain of the last few months. Because you wouldn’t be able to be with him.
You don’t think you’d be able to heal by his side. Because he’s a reminder of what happened, whether you like it or not.
The universe made it impossible for you and Jeon Jungook to be together in the end.
“And I would have said yes,” you reply, your voice wavering with the tears. “I would have told you I loved you back, but that didn’t happen. And it’s unfortunate, and really fucking sad, but we both need to move on.” You wipe your cheeks, closing your eyes to try and find strength for your next words. “We owe it to each other.”
He’s crying too. You’re both two broken fucking messes, but you’re allowed your closure. No matter how much it hurts.
“But what if I don’t want to move on?” he asks. “I’m still in that fucking hospital room with you, Y/n. I was so scared you were never going to wake up.”
“But I did.” You meet his gaze, standing strong in the face of the grief breaking his eyes. “I did and I’m here today, and I want us both to be able to move on and heal.”
“You came here to tell me this?” he lets out, like he can’t believe it. “I thought…” He pauses, shuts his eyes tight. “Jimin said…” Another pause. “I wanted to believe you wanted to reconnect.”
“Jungkook, I can’t…”
“I miss you so much. So fucking much, every day. It doesn’t make sense without you.”
“Jungkook.”
“No!” he practically yells. “You don’t get to say my name like this. Why did you even come here if it was to tell me this?”
You don’t know where that anger is coming from, but anger is a lot easier to face than grief.
“Because we deserved closure.”
He laughs, and it’s so pained, so sad, and you need to leave.
You’re about to break irreparably, and you don’t want him to witness it.
“You don’t think I got closure when you asked me to leave after I was at your bedside for a week and a half?”
“You texted me for weeks after that,” you remind him.
He turns around, gripping the side of the sink. “So you saw those texts, but never got around to reply?”
You sob. It wracks through you even though you try to stop it, and Jungkook curses loudly.
“I didn’t know what to say,” you admit, and it’s true.
Just like with Mingyu, you didn’t know what to say. So you chose the coward way out, and stayed silent instead.
“That’s fucking bullshit.” He turns the faucet on, and then bends down to splash water in his face. You don’t know why he does it, but when it’s done and the tap is off, he straightens, meeting your gaze in the mirror with water dripping down his face, mixing with his tears. “I nearly killed myself during those weeks. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror, couldn’t spend more than a minute awake without being drunk because all I could see was you in that fucking alley. And I was hoping you’d come back, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to reply to me.”
“I was healing from getting beaten up and stabbed,” you throw back. “I did not have energy for anything else, Jungkook.”
The fight leaves him, and his head hangs low, his hair hiding his features from you. He takes a deep breath that breaks on a choked sob, and you just watch him cry while you cry too, and you wonder if that’s the last thing you’ll do together.
Cry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers when he’s calmed down. “I’m sorry I got mad.”
You reach out, almost touching his back, but you stop yourself before your fingers find the fabric of his shirt. “It’s okay. It really is okay.”
And it is. Because it’s better if all the feelings are out instead of festering in his chest or yours, isn’t it?
“How can it be okay?” he asks.
“We promise each other we’ll move on,” you whisper. “We move on and we heal.”
He’s crying again, and he turns back around to look at you. “I don’t know how to do that.”
“Try therapy for real,” you tell him. “It will help.”
“What if it doesn’t?”
“It will,” you insist. “I promise.”
There’s a silence of you holding each other’s gaze, and you take his features in. Commit them to memory, locking them in your heart next to that hole. Though, as you put them there, you realize that hole was always shaped like him.
Will always be shaped like him, too.
“So, this is it?” he asks.
You nod, finding yourself unable to speak. Jungkook curses, and then he pulls you to him, wrapping you in his embrace. You hide your face in his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist as you cry again. He rests his chin on the top of your head, and he holds you tight. For a second, you think the pieces of you are glueing back together, and you hold onto him, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. You let his scent wrap around you, let him hold you.
Your heart beats in sync with his, breaking along with his. Jungkook is the first to break the silence.
“I’ll miss you.”
The tears come faster, and you hold him tighter, too. “I’ll miss you too.”
He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll read all of your books,” he promises, his voice heavy with emotion.
“And I’ll listen to all of your songs,” you promise back.
“I’ll never forget you.”
You know he won’t. And you won’t either. In another life, Jeon Jungkook was your soulmate.
“Me neither. But I promise I will heal, and I really want you to heal, too.”
He doesn’t say anything for a time, just holding you close. And then he whispers, “I promise I will try.”
You really hope he does.
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☆☆☆☆☆
i am fucking sobbing again and again. this story really is the saddest i've ever written, i'm so sorry. let me know what you think of this chapter! and feel free to scream at me
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter deals with heavy themes)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: hospital, a whole lot of trauma on the two sides, mentions of the assault and of blood, nightmares, cursing, alcohol, throwing up, a lot of crying honestly
☆word count: 10.3k
☆a/n: this one is really heavy, which makes sense after what happened in the last chapter. I hope you guys still enjoy it <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
You’re swimming in bliss. You hear voices sometimes – you recognize them, but they speak a language you know you should understand, yet you can’t grasp the meaning of their words. You recognize names – Jungkook, Jennie, Mingyu.
They’re telling Jungkook that he needs to sleep.
But then you’re gone again, and you don’t recognize the voice that speaks up next. She’s telling you that they’re changing you, whatever that means.
You see your parents while you sleep. You dream of home, you dream of the night club where it all started. Sometimes you’re here, sometimes you’re not.
You hear your mother and Jungkook speak at some point, and then there’s just darkness.
It’s like sleeping while awake, unable to move. Someone’s brushing your hair at some point, and you almost manage to move a finger. But then you’re gone again, and you dream of lips on your skin and a tattooed arm wrapped around your waist while you sleep.
And then, as if no time has passed, you open your eyes.
Saturday, November 22nd
Jungkook hasn’t moved from this chair next to you in almost a week and a half. He’s only gotten up to go to the bathroom when he couldn’t wait anymore, and then come back to keep his watch over you. They’ve tried to get him to go home and rest, but he much prefers to sleep here next to you in case you wake up.
He can’t miss when you wake up.
If you wake up.
The nurses have been kind to him. Bringing him food and giving him a new blanket every night. One of them even tried to get an empty stretcher in here for him, but he only had it for one night before they needed it again. Your mother also has been kind ever since she got here the day after your assault, and she’s currently gone back to her hotel for the night, as she has been struggling with jetlag.
Jungkook feels horrible. That you’re in this position, on the other side of the world from your family. And only your mother could show up, though she informed him earlier today that the rest of the family should be coming in the next two days.
He didn’t think he’d meet your family so soon. Definitely not like this, with you in a state between life and death that’s been the longest wait of his life. But he didn’t end his vigil once, except for his bathroom breaks, eating and sleeping in here every single day.
Though, he doesn’t think he has really fully slept in a while now. Every time he starts falling asleep, he dreams of you, bleeding out on the ground of the dark alley, though no matter how much he runs, he never seems to get to you. He’s forced to watch you bleed out and die, and he always wakes up in cold sweat.
He’s cried in your mother’s arms. She’s a saint, and he understands where you take it from now. She’s cried in his arms too, and he’s glad your family will be arriving soon so that she doesn’t have to do this alone anymore.
It’s his fault. It’s his fault, and he’ll have to carry the weight of it for the rest of his life. But he just needs to make sure you’ll wake up, needs to make sure you’ll survive. The doctors say there is no danger to your life anymore, and that you should be waking up in the next few days. You probably would have woken up before if it was just for the blood loss, but you have some broken cartilage in your ribs too, and a minor concussion that “is the least of our concern” according to the doctors.
To think he almost ran out right after you. He should have, and will forever hate himself for stopping himself. He just thought you might need space, and so he wanted to wait until the next day before going to see you. But then he saw your phone on the couch, and he got scared. So, so fucking scared, and he knew he had to follow you.
The doctors have told him he saved your life by finding you when he did. But he’ll never be able to forget the way he saw the lights go out in your eyes when you passed out.
No matter how much he’s washed his hands since then, he still sees your blood on his skin, like he’ll forever be scarred by it. It’ll forever stain him, no matter how many times he rubs soap into his skin.
The boys are having a concert tonight. The ones last weekend were canceled, the company wanting to give him time to collect himself, but he ended up deciding to sit out for the next concerts, and the company refused to just postpone the tour. So they’re going to be playing with a drum track instead of him, which hopefully will not ruin the whole experience for the fans.
But Jungkook can’t bring himself to care about the fans right now. It’s been made very clear that he has history with you, the company releasing a statement that explained everything when Jungkook said he’d leave if they lied. It isn’t explicitly written that you’re his girlfriend, and Jungkook only has himself to blame for that.
He never got around to ask you. Stupidly thought he could bring you to some botanical gardens on Wednesday to explain everything to you and ask you, because he thought just a single bouquet was not enough.
Maybe it would have been. He’ll never know now.
It’s late. The sun has set a long time ago, and Jungkook starts his usual bedtime routine. The one he established when the nurses understood he wouldn’t leave, and they showed him how to move you a little so you won’t get wounds from being bedridden.
Jungkook’s hands gently wrap around your wrist, and he starts moving your arm. Your skin is warm under his touch, but it lacks its usual colour, like you’ve been drained of your life.
Which you were. You were so close to dying that night.
Tears sprout from his eyes, like they always fucking do every time he breathes and takes a look at you. One of the nurses mentioned that he needs to talk to a doctor, but he hasn’t bothered replying.
It can wait until you wake up. Until then, he’ll pursue his quiet vigil next to you.
Jungkook moves to your legs, massaging your calves a little to get the blood moving. And then he grabs the brush on the table next to the bed, bringing it toward your head.
You’re looking at him.
He almost screams, the brush falling out of his hand and clattering on the floor. And then he’s clicking on the button the nurse showed him to call for them, and he grabs your hand. Your fingers twitch, and he really is crying then, tears streaming freely on his cheeks.
He says your name, and you blink once, a tiny drop of water rolling out of your eye. He reaches forward, dries it for you, and his fingers linger on your cheek as he realizes the wait is over.
You’re awake. You’re finally awake.
He wants to tell you he’s sorry and that he loves you and that he regrets even letting Sara talk him into going to see her. But you just stare at him, more tears coming, and he can’t speak around the lump in his throat.
A nurse comes in – she’s the one that got him the stretcher that one time. She tells Jungkook to sit as more people come into the room, busying themselves with checking your vitals and seeing how reactive you actually are to stimuli. Jungkook texts your mother to let her know you’re awake, and he just watches attentively, his sleep-deprived brain unable to keep up with the flurry of activity now surrounding you.
A male nurse hands him the hairbrush he dropped, and Jungkook holds it in his lap, fingers flexing and unflexing on the handle. It takes a while, but then a doctor appears in his line of sight, and he meets her gaze.
“Everything seems to be healing well,” she tells him. “She’s breathing on her own, so we removed the tubes, but she might have trouble with talking for a few days. She still needs some rest even though she woke up.”
“Understood,” he says. “Thank you.”
She smiles, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No. Thank you. She’s here because of you.”
He knows she’s meaning to be comforting, but if only she knew how much she’s right about it. Because it’s all his fault that you’re in this situation.
Your mother gets to the hospital some time later, her eyes still riddled with exhaustion. But you cry at the sight of her, and she tells you a story she’s told you every day since she got here. It’s a tale she said she used to tell you when you were falling asleep as a kid, and you visibly relax as she holds your hand through it all. Jungkook sits on the other side of you, listening to your mother’s soothing voice, and he feels his eyelids growing heavy. He tries to fight it, but he hasn’t truly slept in so long, and there’s nothing to keep him up now that you’re awake…
He falls asleep before your mother finishes the story.
*****
The alley is dark, endless. Jungkook stumbles down the length of it, and he’s slow like he’s stuck in some molasses. Every step closer to you costs him so much, and he watches the blood blooming like a red rose around you as he tries to get to you. But he’s too slow, too fucking slow and you’re dying. But then you’re sitting up, looking at him.
“This is all your fault,” you tell him.
Sunday, November 23rd
Jungkook jerks awake next to your bed, and you turn your head to look at him. You’ve been awake for a while now, the morning light spilling into your room from the half-drawn curtain at the window. Your mother told you she’d stay until you fell asleep last night, or maybe it was early morning already. You wanted to say you didn’t feel like sleeping anymore, but everything hurt and you grew sleepy as she sat next to you, stroking your hair, a long time after Jungkook fell asleep.
Your memory is… fogged. You have trouble remembering what happened. There’s a hole after you left his house, a vast expanse of darkness that leads to last night. You don’t even know how long you’ve been sleeping, and you just know from what your mother said that you got assaulted.
Maybe it’s a blessing that you don’t remember exactly what happened. Or maybe it’s just a coping mechanism of your brain, but no matter what it is, you’re relieved you haven’t had to relive the experience in your head now that you’re conscious.
But what you do remember is the fight. It’s the bottomless need to leave that you felt when you found out that Jungkook lied about seeing his ex. And as you look at him, at the way he seems like he’s out of breath, waking up from a nightmare, all you can do is start crying.
He says your name, comes closer, sitting on the edge of your bed. He makes to dry your cheeks, but you turn your head the other way, not wanting him to touch you.
He stayed with you while you were asleep. Your mother said so last night, but you wish he hadn’t.
“Y/n,” he says again.
You gather your strength, speaking the only word that comes to your mind upon hearing his voice.
“Leave.”
Your voice croaks out in a poor excuse of talking, but it’s clear enough for him to have understood. Yet he doesn’t move, stays next to you in silence as you feel his gaze on your profile.
So you look at him again, watch the way tears are falling in an infinite sequence along his cheeks. They collect at his chin before falling in his lap and you wish he understood that it’s not personal.
You don’t want him to see you like this. Not when the last time you saw each other – that you were conscious of – was when you fought.
When he lied.
You’re saved by your mother coming into the room, and she takes in the sight of Jungkook sitting on your bed. She gives him a gentle smile and a nod that you assume she’s meaning to be a bow, and then she hands him a cup of coffee.
It’s a strange sight to see, especially as she reaches for tissues and hands those to him too. He takes them, wipes his cheeks, and then he gets up to return to his chair. You want to tell him to leave again, but you don’t find the strength to, not when your mother sits in the spot he was in earlier and says, “Dad and the boys are going to be here in a few hours.”
You’re crying again. In truth, you don’t think you’ve stopped crying ever since Jungkook woke up. But you cry because your family will be here soon, and it feels safe.
You haven’t been reunited in so long, and though the conditions may be dire, you know it will be like a balm on your heart to see everyone at the same time.
Hopefully, Jungkook will understand that he has nothing to do with your family being here, and go. Because you really doubt you’ll have the capacity to ask him to leave again.
*****
Jungkook sits in that same chair he’s been sitting in for days now, your mother next to him. You fell asleep not long after breakfast – applesauce from the looks of it, though you only managed to take a few bites. And he’s been silent the whole time, while you carefully talked to your mother in hushed tones. You didn’t speak a lot, if he’s honest. It was mostly your mother, and you replied with short words he couldn’t really hear from his spot.
He only has a single word burnt in his mind though.
Leave.
He’s been hearing it on repeat since you said it earlier, and it aches so deep he feels it in his bones. He feels it in his soul, and he’s so fucking heavy, so fucking exhausted.
He doesn’t know why he believed you’d be happy to see him by your side when you woke up. He was so focused on making sure you did that he didn’t realize it’d upset you. And now he’s just sitting in his stupid chair, his heart bleeding out, trying to find the courage to get up and leave. But he wants to talk to you, to apologize, yet he thinks the words might stay forever lodged in his throat.
“Are you okay?” your mother asks next to him.
He blinks, gazing at her. All he can do is give her a nod, and he resumes his attention on you, on your serene features as you sleep.
“You know, she talked to me about you.”
Your mother’s words are so sharp they cut through him, nearly beheading him.
“She did?”
She chuckles lightly, though it’s sorrowful on the edges, induced by this tiring week and a half of waiting for you to wake up. “Oh, she did,” she says. “I don’t even think she realized she did it. But it’s always about the boy in Seoul.”
He clenches his fists as pain flows through him. “She asked me to leave,” he whispers, the revelation so heavy and loud he thinks the windows might shatter.
But they don’t, and the world outside remains blissfully unaware of his breaking.
“What happened between the two of you?” your mother asks carefully.
We fell in love, he thinks. We fell in love and I fucked everything up.
But admitting his guilt to your mother feels like too much of a failure. He doubts she’d let him stay if she knew.
“We got in an argument that night,” he admits, his throat drying out as a lump grows at the top of it. “Before she…”
He can’t say the rest. Not when his hands are still fucking covered with your blood.
“I hope you don’t feel responsible,” your mother says.
He breaks. Again and again, he breaks. He’s so shattered by now he doubts he’ll ever be able to collect all of his pieces one day.
He really died with you that night, and the pieces are scattered through the alley where you almost passed away.
“It’s hard not to,” he chokes out, and your mother puts her hand on his arm, trying to be reassuring.
“Jungkook,” she says sternly. “It’s not your fault.”
He’s sobbing, because she doesn’t understand. Can’t understand he’s the one that drove you out of his house. Shouldn’t understand because she’d hate him, too. He doesn’t want her to hate him too.
“She asked me to leave,” he repeats in between sobs, and your mother pulls him to her, wrapping her arms around him.
She rubs a soothing hand on his back as he cries, and he’s embarrassed. So damn embarrassed that he’s crying in her arms again, but everything just
hurts
so
bad.
He doesn’t know how long he cries. Just knows he’s fully empty by the time the tears recede, like he’s cried all the water in his body. The wave of exhaustion that hits him then is so potent he almost passes out on the spot, his mind spinning, but he clenches his fists, clenches his jaw, and the spinning recedes, too.
“She will need time,” your mother says after a long moment of silence.
Not expecting her to talk, Jungkook startles, and then the meaning of her words catches up to him. He glances at her, finding her already looking at him with a gentle smile on her lips that reminds him so much of yours.
“You think I should go?” he asks.
Unsurprisingly, tears manage to gather in his gaze again, though they don’t fall this time.
“I think you need rest,” she replies. “And you need to eat a good meal and spend some time away from this hospital room.” She’s asking him to leave, too? “And I’m not saying that for her. I’m saying it for you.” Her smile is sad, infinitely so. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”
But how is he supposed to do that when he almost lost you?
He nods, and he looks around the room. Takes it all in, like it’s going to disappear the second he leaves. And he thinks it might – he doubts you’ll want to see him again.
It’s the end. Or rather, it ended already, and he’s just been delaying the inevitable.
But no one can stop the inevitable from coming. It came and passed, and now he has to leave.
He doesn’t know how he does it. He barely remembers getting home. He makes it three steps inside before he breaks down.
He hasn’t been here since you left.
You’re gone.
Monday, December 1st
The doctors give you the go to get out of the hospital on the first day of December, when an early flurry of snow is falling upon Seoul. You’ll have to come back in a week to make sure that your ribs are healing well, and to most likely take out the sutures on the wounds in your side, which have apparently been healing remarkably well.
You’re not surprised. Jungkook paid to get you the top of the country care, and you refused to ask how much it cost. Refused to acknowledge that Jungkook did that for you, even though you know he can afford it.
You’ve also refused to acknowledge that he stayed by your side the whole time while you were in a coma. Your mother tried to talk to you about it the day after he left, but you told her you just wanted to spend time with your family, and then you brushed her off every time she mentioned him.
You don’t want to think about him. Don’t want to face the gaping hole in your chest whenever the thought of him crosses your mind. You just want to focus on healing, and not look back.
The nightmares started on the third day after you woke up. They got so bad after the fifth that the doctors prescribed you strong sleeping meds, and you’ve been sleeping a dreamless sleep every night since then, slowly recuperating.
Slowly healing, except that gaping hole in your chest you doubt will ever heal. You’ve been signed up for therapy without your consent, though you were told you can stop whenever you want to. So far, you’ve only had one appointment from your hospital room with the psychiatrist, and they were the one to suggest that you will need sleeping meds.
You also have calming meds, but they’ve been making you so dizzy you’ve tried to avoid taking them, begging the nurses to not force you to take them. You think they believe you’re crazy. Hell, you think you might be. Because you should be traumatized, shouldn’t you?
But you don’t remember anything. You don’t remember the assault at all – there’s just a blank space in your mind whenever you try to think about it. The nightmares also didn’t leave a lasting memory for you to think about at all. They disappeared from your mind like dust in the wind, but the terror they held lasted for hours after you woke up. But with the meds…
With the meds, it’s like nothing ever happened at all. Except your body is still hurting, the bruises still fading away. And you’ll have scars on your right side, though the doctors said Jungkook already paid for you to get surgery to remove them, if you so wish.
You don’t think you will. They’ll be the last testament that you went through hell and came back. At least that’s how you’ve been feeling about it lately.
Your mother told you a few days ago that one of the people involved in your assault came forward after all the pressure in the media, and gave the police the names of the other assailants. They’re in prison, waiting for trial, but you don’t think you’ll go.
You don’t want to risk going and being hit with the memories.
You don’t want to risk going and seeing Jungkook, either. You don’t even know if he’ll go. but Jennie told you about his hiatus, showing you what the company wrote about you and him, and you think he might.
He’s out for justice. At least that’s what Jennie said, and you won’t tell him to stop. No, you do think you deserve justice, you just don’t have the strength to do it yourself.
“I love your apartment,” your mother says, taking it all in with a spin in the living room.
Your brothers and your father had to go home already, all of them having to return to their jobs now that they know you’re safe, but your mother is retired and decided to stay a little longer, to make sure you’re not alone for the first few days back home in case something happens.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’ve been craving some alone time. She’s been so helpful over the few weeks she’s been here, taking care of communication with Stella while you couldn’t bring yourself to face your phone.
You still haven’t. You know you were trending in the days after it happened, and also when you woke up. Jungkook’s fanbase has raised money in your name to give to organisations that help women victims of various crimes. It’s touching that they would do that for you, but you need to be away from this all for a time.
You want peace and quiet, but not enough so that you’ll be forced to look down at the gaping hole in your chest to see what’s at the bottom.
“Thank you,” you tell your mother as you walk in behind her, sitting on the couch.
You feel restless. Have felt restless these last two days as you were waiting to be dismissed from the hospital, but you still feel tired from the ride home. It’s a weird combination that makes you feel crazy, which you think might be one of the manifestations of your trauma.
But you’re not going to psychoanalyze yourself. You don’t want to spend a second in your head at all, if you can avoid it.
And you can. You can, because your mother is here, and Jennie will come later too, and then it’ll be Hyunseok’s turn tomorrow. Mingyu sent you a long, heartfelt message after he visited you in the hospital the day before his enlistment, but you haven’t been able to read it yet.
Like everything when it comes to your phone, you just can’t touch it.
If you had had it with you when it happened…
You stop the trail of thoughts. Or rather, your mother stops it as she looks over your wall of pictures.
“Oh, I love this,” she says. “It’s like the one you have at home.”
You’ve added a lot of pictures to it over the months. There are some from Chelsea’s wedding last summer. Family pictures, and pictures with Hyunseok. You’ve put up the one of you alone that you sent to Jungkook back then, just because it’s your favourite picture of yourself ever.
But also, you have pictures with Jungkook on that wall. Some from Jeju, and others from the days you spent together before. You even have a screenshot from a FaceTime conversation you had after a concert where he looked so good with his tousled hair you said you needed the memory.
Little pieces of you from over the months here in Seoul cover that wall, but you can’t bring yourself to see the pictures of Jungkook anymore. So you get up from the couch, wincing at the pain in your ribs that refuses to lessen even though you think it should have healed by now.
In truth, from the research you did for your book, you know it should take between six to twelve weeks for it to heal. You just hope you’ll be on the shorter end, because the pain is driving you insane. No amount of pain meds has seemed to work that pain out of your sides, and so it’s been a constant in your life since you woke up.
A lot of things have been a constant in your life since you woke up, and you’re so, so thankful you’re finally home.
You walk over to your mother, reaching toward the picture from Jeju. You took it on the yacht, and Jimin, Taehyung, Heryung and Jennie are all in frame, too, Minha’s peace sign in the corner of it. It hurts to see it, but it hurts much more to try to grab it.
Your mother stops you, forcing you to put your arm down. “Which picture do you want?” she asks.
“Can you take off every single one that Jungkook is in?” you ask.
Her eyes bore into your profile, but you refuse to look at her, instead staring at that same picture like it’s the source of all your pain. You wish it’d burn down under your stare, but it just stares back at you, a piece of a moment that meant so much to you.
You shove that thought down the gaping hole in your chest. You don’t want to think about Jeju.
You want to forget Jungkook and everything that comes with him.
“You know that boy is in love with you, right?” she says.
Pain. The hole is pain, and you blink away tears. “Can you take off the pictures?” you repeat,
“Y/n, we’ll need to talk about this at some point,” she carefully says. “He stayed with you the whole time.”
“I don’t care.” You say it loud enough that your ribs hurt, and you wince, shutting your eyes. “Take the pictures off.”
Your mother doesn’t say anything, but you hear her clothes shuffle as she hopefully does what you asked her to do. It takes a moment, but then she says, “It’s done.”
You grab them from her hands, and you walk to the small recycling bin in the kitchen area, throwing them out. You feel your mother’s eyes on you the whole time, and you refuse to look at her as you watch Jungkook smiling up at you from the bottom of the bin.
“He said you had an argument, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”
Your mother’s words are sad, so sad, but you can’t tell if they’re sad for you, or for him. And you hate that you can’t. But they spent a lot of time together while you were out – it makes sense that some sort of camaraderie would have formed between them during that time.
“I really don’t want to talk about him, mom,” you say, warning in your voice. It wavers on the last word, though, and you really hope she’ll let it go.
“Okay,” she lets out. “But please don’t avoid the conversation forever. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to talk about it.”
You give her a nod even though you know that won’t happen.
You’re leaving him and everything about him in the past.
It’s the only way forward.
Wednesday, December 17th
Jungkook has a pounding headache. And he thinks he might kill Jennie if she keeps turning on the lights in his house.
“How much of this did you drink last night?” she asks, her voice way too high-pitched.
He doesn’t know. He’s lost count of the days and weeks since he came home. He meant to go to the trial last week, but he was so drunk off his mind he passed out on this very couch, only to wake up to the news that they’re all going to prison for a while for attempted murder. Even the girl that came forward despite the police saying they’d be lenient if one of them said something.
Good riddance, he reckons. They all deserve to be behind bars.
No one has come to his house since then.
Except Jennie, who’s been checking up on him every few days.
“Fuck off,” he grumbles as she pushes the curtains open, and sunlight spills into the room, so bright Jungkook thinks he might throw up.
“Jungkook, you’re not going to do this to yourself,” she says sternly. “I talked to your mom.”
He grabs a pillow, shoving it in his face. But it reeks of spilled beer, and he gags, throwing it on the floor.
“Don’t fucking talk to my mom,” he grinds out, sitting up.
The room spins, and nausea churns at his gut.
“I’ll get you a glass of water,” she replies. He burps, and she adds, “And a bucket.”
She comes back too late. He’s thrown up all over the floor by the couch by the time she’s back, and she just looks at the mess for a time.
“Jungkook, fucking hell,” she lets out.
He leans back against the couch, wiping his mouth. “Shit.”
“Shit, yeah,” she agrees. “Go take a shower, I’ll clean up.”
He shakes his head, cracking an eye open to look at her, but the light feels like it’ll split his brain open. “I’ll take care of it, go home.”
“I’m not leaving you in this state.” Jennie walks towards him, careful not to step in the mess on the floor. She hands him the glass of water, and the first sip is heavenly, the cool water taming the burning sensation in his throat. “You’ll take a shower, and I’ll clean this up, and then we’ll order you some food. And I’m getting Eunwoo and Lisa to come help with getting the alcohol out of your house.”
“Don’t fucking touch my stuff,” he growls.
“Jungkook, I’m not letting you destroy yourself over this.”
This. She says it like it was nothing. Like he’s not responsible for you nearly dying, like you haven’t asked him to leave only to never reach out after. Hell, your mother reached out to tell him that she was sorry.
That’s the first night he drank. And he’s been in a constant drunk state since then.
Except right now. Because Jennie is fucking ruining the vibe.
“Leave me alone,” he says.
She must have left, because she doesn’t reply. He opens his eyes to see the living room is empty. There’s an unopened can of beer on the coffee table, right in front of him, and it calls for him. He grabs it, getting up from the couch, nearly stepping in the mess right in front of it, and he groans as the room spins.
He has to close his eyes to steady himself, and when he opens them again, Jennie is looking at him from the doorway to the kitchen, her phone against her ear.
“Yeah, please come,” she says. And then she hangs up, walking toward him. “Put the beer down.”
He cracks it open while staring at her, taking three long gulps from it. It’s warm, and it tastes disgusting, but it comes with salvation.
He hasn’t had the nightmare since he started drinking himself to sleep every night and day.
“I fucking hate you,” Jennie says, and she rips the beer out of his hand. It spills on the floor a little, and Jungkook curses, but then she slaps him so hard it stuns him into just staring at her. “Get a grip on yourself, Jungkook. She’s not fucking dead.”
He stares her down, but she stands her ground, so much ire in her gaze he doesn’t find anything to say.
“You’ll go upstairs, and you’ll take a shower because you smell like the fucking sewers, and Eunwoo is coming over with hangover soup.” She motions around. “I’ll take care of the mess, and you’ll come back downstairs with a better attitude, got it?”
He clenches his jaw so hard it hurts, but then he nods.
And he walks away, goes upstairs in his room.
And like every time he’s walked into his room since he came back from the hospital, he bursts out crying at the sight of your duffel bag by the bed, the clothes spilling out of it.
He hasn’t come up here for a reason. He sees you everywhere in here, and it fucking kills him.
Jennie finds him sitting with his back against the wall what must be an hour later. He thinks she’ll scold him again, but she just sits in silence. That silence carries more than words ever could, and Jungkook is crying again.
“Take a shower, JK,” Jennie gently says. “You’ll feel better after, I promise.”
“She asked me to leave,” he tells her. “That’s the only thing she told me after she woke up.”
He hears Jennie gulp, and a glance her way reveals that she is crying too.
“She’s hurting,” Jennie says as she wipes at her cheeks. “She tries to act like everything is okay, but she’s traumatized.”
So is he. He so fucking is too. He can’t close his eyes without seeing you bleeding out.
“I went to see Sara that day,” he tells Jennie.
“I know.” Her words are low, yet they carry to his ears with so much disappointment he really wishes he was drunk right now. “Heryung told me she has cancer and has been trying to make amends.”
“I wish I hadn’t gone,” he whispers, and he hides his face in his hands as he starts sobbing again, even though he’s so dehydrated he should not have water left in his system to cry. “I lied to Y/n about it, and she ran outside because she found out.”
“Why did you lie?” Jennie asks.
Why? Why indeed.
“It’s all my fault.”
Jennie pulls on his hands until they drop from his face, and she cups his cheeks, trying to force him to look at her. “Jungkook.” He refuses to open his eyes, but she slaps him again, though much lighter this time. Just a tap to get him to look at her. When he does look at her to see she’s now kneeling in front of him, she says, “Don’t you fucking dare say it’s your fault again. Understood?”
He can’t say anything. The lump in his throat is so big now he can’t breathe anymore.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she says. “Say it with me.”
He can’t. He can’t say anything, and she just pulls him in a tight hug as he cries again.
“It’s not your fault,” she repeats over and over, like she’s trying to hammer the words in his brain.
Maybe she didn’t understand what he said. That he’s the reason why you left that night. But he doesn’t have the strength to tell her again, his head hurting so bad his tears stop of their own volition.
He straightens, wiping his cheeks dry with the sleeve of his sweater. Jennie just stays in front of him, waiting for him to meet her gaze. When he does, she says, “Go take a shower. Eunwoo is downstairs with the soup and Lisa is on her way.”
Jungkook wishes the members would be here. But they’re all the way on the other side of the planet, performing concerts without him while he’s dying all alone.
“Okay,” he lets out.
Jennie gives him an encouraging nod, a small smile on her lips, but the redness in her eyes from her crying betrays the sorrow clutching to her, too. But she’s doing her best, and she won’t fix what’s dead inside of him.
It has necrosed by now anyway – the only thing to do is to cut it out of himself. But how does one cut out their own beating heart?
He can’t. The pain will live on with him.
And despite the pain, he gets up, grabs clean clothes in a drawer, and then points to the duffel bag.
“Can you take that back to her?” he asks.
Jennie looks at your clothes, and she gives him a nod. “I will.” He takes a deep breath that burns on the way in and out. “Be quick, the soup will be cold.”
He doesn’t have it in him to say anything to that. He simply heads to the bathroom, where he sees your toothbrush. He knows your soap is in the shower, and he drops his clothes on the counter, grabs your toothbrush and soap.
“Jennie!” he yells as he runs back to his bedroom.
She’s kneeling by his bed, neatly folding your clothes. “Yes?”
“This is hers too,” he says. “And the charger right there, too.”
He points at it, and Jennie glances at it. “I’ll grab it.”
He puts your stuff down on the bed, taking one last look at Jennie before returning to the bathroom. He shuts the door behind himself, leans against it for a second just to breathe a little, and then he takes his clothes off, throwing them in the hamper.
He looks at himself in the mirror before getting in the shower. He’s melted in the last month, his cheeks caving in, his muscles dissolved. He’s barely eaten after all, except the occasional pack of instant ramen, and it really shows.
A diet of practically just alcohol will do that to a man, he reckons. And it’s strange, his stomach is swollen, the only spot on his body that doesn’t seem to have grown smaller. He assumes it’s due to alcohol intake, and he rubs the small bump.
He has to get rid of this. He’ll have to go back on tour in January, and he can’t go while looking like… this.
Like the poor excuse of a man he’s become. And so he steels himself, gives himself a nod, and then he steps in the shower, turning it on to a cold setting. He winces as it hits his back, but he doesn’t turn it warmer.
He just stands there in the cold water for a time, wondering if it can rival the ice in his chest. It doesn’t seem like it can, and so he gets in motion, cleaning himself and his body before turning off the shower. And then he stands there, dripping water, for another minute before he gets out, dries himself and gets dressed.
The clothes cover how much his body has changed, which is a relief because he doesn’t want his friends to see him like this. He pushes his wet hair back, giving himself one last look in the mirror, and then he finally goes to meet Jennie, Eunwoo and Lisa downstairs.
As he steps down from the last step, he sees that Jennie has indeed cleaned the living room thoroughly. There’s not a trace of what happened in here left, and he wonders if she just decided to throw away the pillow he spilled beer on, because it’s nowhere to be seen. No, the living room is spotless, and it even smells of cleaning products.
He follows the sound of his friends’ chatter to the kitchen, which he finds just as clean as the living room. They’re sitting at the dinner table he rarely uses when he’s alone, and they all look at him as he appears in the doorway.
Jennie smiles. She smiles like she’s proud of him, and he’d cry again. But he’s done crying for today. Instead, he swallows around the lump in his throat, gives them a nod of acknowledgement, and then walks over to the fridge.
It’s been emptied of the alcohol he knows was in there, and stacked full with bottles of water and some meal prep someone brought, most likely Eunwoo considering the large portions. Jungkook grabs a bottle of water, aware that his friends are still staring at him, and he opens it, taking a long sip of it.
He puts the cap back on the bottle after he’s done drinking, closing the fridge, and then he walks over to the table, and the soup waiting for him.
“Thank you,” he says.
It’s all he can say. They understand, giving him different variations of smiles, nods, and ‘of course’s, and he sits at the seat in front of the soup, his stomach rumbling, a clear indication that he’s been starving, but just didn’t realize before.
He eats, finishing the bowl while his friends resume their idle chatter next to him, talking about what they’ve been busy with lately, and Jungkook listens, taking in the normalcy of the scene, the domesticity of it, using it as a balm for the wounds covering his soul.
Wounds he inflicted himself, others you inflicted to him. But he won’t blame you – he only has himself to blame.
“What about you?” Eunwoo asks him a while later, when they’ve all finished talking about what they’ve been up to. “What’s your plan moving forward?”
It sounds like an intervention, and Jungkook reckons that it is. So he holds Jennie’s gaze, and says, “I’ll go back to touring with the boys.”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Jennie asks.
He takes a deep breath. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
Her eyes cloud over with tears, but she blinks them away. “Then I’m fully supporting you. I think it’ll be good for you to be busy.”
There’s a short silence, and then Lisa looks around the table like it costs her to speak before she says, “We think you should think about therapy.”
They’re right. He should. But he’s not ready yet. Not when it means carving into all those wounds and putting them into the hands of someone else. One day, he will be.
Just not today.
“I’ll think about it,” he tells them, because that’s what they want to hear.
Lisa and Eunwoo seem relieved, but Jennie sees through him. Sees the wounds, and she understands. He thinks she does. She gives him an imperceptible nod, and he gives her a tight-lipped smile back.
And despite all the pain plaguing him, all the shadows in his mind, Jungkook knows he will keep going forward.
It’s the only way.
Tuesday, December 24th
You’ve never felt this immune to the holiday charm in years now. Hell, you’re relieved you couldn’t go back home for the holidays, the doctors recommending that you wait until your ribs have fully healed. You’ll likely FaceTime with your family at some point tomorrow morning while they’ll be celebrating back home, but that’s all you have the capacity to do for these holidays.
Except this dinner with Jennie and Hyunseok, who has been very visibly vibrating with excitement at the fact that he’s having dinner with her. It feels… normal, and you cling to it. Cling to the fact that despite what happened to you, you’re still able to have dinner with friends. To eat some food and smile with them and make a gingerbread house on the tiny plastic table Hyunseok brought over for dinner since you don’t really have a table at all in your apartment.
You haven’t gone outside once since you’ve come home from the hospital. Not even when your mother left. You managed to get all the way down to the reception, but the sight of the world outside kind of made you want to puke, so you said goodbye there instead of at the airport like you’d initially planned. Your mother understood – she’s the one that told you to go back home and rest up, and that she’d be able to get to the airport without your help.
After she left, you managed to start going to the gym downstairs a couple of times. Obviously not to lift weights or anything, but you’ve walked on the treadmill a little, and it’s helped with spending some of that restless exhausting energy you’ve been plagued with.
Jennie visited a couple of times, but you’ve spent nearly every day with Hyunseok since you came home. He feels reassuring, as he’s got no connections with the celebrity scene of Seoul, and you’ve been quietly enjoying healing with him by your side, and Haneul occasionally too. And Hyunseok is a nurse, so he’s been good at doting on you, at taking care of you and reminding you to take your meds.
You feel like a child, but you reckon you’re allowed to be one for a little while. You’re allowed to let people take care of you, and not feel guilty about it. At least that’s what the therapist you’ve started seeing said, and you agree with her.
The strangest part of it all is, you’ve been feeling numb. Completely detached from the events that happened to you. Your therapist mentioned that your concussion could actually be some sort of blessing in disguise, since it took away the memories of the act in and of itself. Or maybe it’s you that said it.
You don’t quite remember. You’ve been having trouble with memory in general, and the doctors said it’s most likely a side effect of the concussion and of the time spent in coma. But you think it’s also just the trauma.
Why would your brain choose to remember things that hurt so much when you can just remember stuff like your book release, and your friends, and the way your whole family came to see you on the other side of the world?
You’d rather focus on that. Focus on that and avoid looking at your phone for more than a few seconds at a time. You just reply to your family, Stella, Hyunseok and Jennie, and that’s plenty enough at the moment. You’ll get around to checking the rest eventually.
Or maybe you won’t. Maybe you don’t need to read the hundreds of messages you got from close friends and not so close friends, from family members you haven’t spoken to in years. From fans and haters and from Mingyu.
You’ve only skimmed his message once so far, and it looked so much like a love confession that you got scared, and you haven’t had the courage to look at it again. It doesn’t matter – he’s still doing training right now where he’s enlisted for his service, and he shouldn’t have access to his phone for a couple of weeks still. So you still have time before having to reply, or at least you think you do.
Someone else texted you a lot for a little while. Messages that meant no sense, both in Korean and in English, with so many typos you figured he had to be drunk when he sent them. Jennie confirmed that theory earlier, before Hyunseok arrived, when she said that she, Eunwoo and Lisa had to do an intervention because he was just constantly getting plastered drunk to the point of being sick every day.
It hurts and burns and pulls on your heart so hard it almost rips out of your chest, but you just can’t reach out. You don’t have it in you, and maybe it makes you a bad person.
Or maybe you just need time. You don’t even know – numbness has also invaded that part of your brain, the one that holds the memories of him, and you just can’t bring yourself to talk to him. Not when this numbness is a blessing, a way to keep moving forward.
You don’t want to have to confront your demons. Especially not those that are shaped like him.
One thing you didn’t expect out of all that happened was for Josh to message you. But he did, telling you he heard about you in the news – apparently, you made the news back home as well – and that he wanted to make sure you were okay. You did reply to him, most likely as a force of habit, but the conversation went nowhere, and he hasn’t reached out since then.
Asshole. He probably only reached out originally because he felt like it was expected of him. Maybe his mother, who always loved you, forced him to do it.
You don’t care. Like many things lately, you just don’t care.
“That house will not survive,” Hyunseok teases you as he glances at your gingerbread house after focusing on his own masterpiece for a while.
You blink out of your thoughts to see that, as a matter of fact, it has already crumbled.
“Yikes,” you let out flatly.
“Let me help,” he suggests, and you push the plate towards him before glancing at Jennie.
She’s so focused on whatever she is drawing on her house that her tongue is poking out of her mouth, and you chuckle at the sight. She looks up, meeting your gaze.
“What?” she asks.
“Who are you pulling your tongue out at?”
She snorts, and she pushes some hair off her forehead with the back of her hand so as to not put some icing in the silky strands. “You, bitch.”
You widen your gaze, making a face that must be funny, because she bursts out laughing. It brings a rare smile to your lips.
“What have I done?” you ask.
“You suck at making gingerbread houses,” Hyunseok provides.
“Hey, that’s unfair!” you let out. “Try lifting your arms when your ribs are cracked.”
Note to self – do not joke about your trauma. Indeed, the atmosphere instantly turns heavy, awkward, and you look up at the ceiling, sighing dramatically.
“That was a joke, thank you very much.”
Jennie chuckles. “Bad delivery. Maybe you should work on it a little.”
“Yeah, that definitely sucked,” Hyunseok jumps in. “Literally no one laughed.”
You close your eyes, and then you smile. You smile, and you laugh, because fuck, you’re so thankful for your friends. For them still acting normally with you, and for not walking on egg shells. You think that might be what’s been keeping you going these last few weeks.
And maybe they think you’re crazy, because they just chuckle awkwardly, but it doesn’t matter. You love them regardless.
You end up deciding to do a sleepover, Jennie and Hyunseok not having plans until the afternoon tomorrow. You lay on the couch, while they share a spot on the plush carpet in the living room, atop a pile of pillows Jennie raided from your bed. If it wasn’t for your ribs, you’d probably lie with them, but you don’t think your body can afford it.
Especially not when you’d risk getting elbowed in the ribs, and you’re pretty sure you’d murder whoever dares touch your sides right now.
But it leads to conversation that lasts well into the night – you’ve taken a liking to going to sleep early, and waking up with the morning sun, if only to avoid being awake while it’s dark outside as much as possible. So, well into the night just means some time after midnight, but you’re yawning on the bed as Jennie and Hyunseok gossip, switching to Korean occasionally, though you still manage to follow.
There’s a lull in the conversation after a moment, and you glance at them. Hyunseok is on his phone, but Jennie is just looking up at the ceiling, and she meets your gaze when she sees you looking.
“Y’all good?” you ask.
“I told you your carpet looks like the most comfortable shit ever at least five times before,” Jennie points out, which she actually did every time she came over. “I was right.”
You smile. “Good.”
She nods, rolling on her stomach as she props herself up on her elbows. “How have you been, by the way?”
You know she’s meaning to resume the conversation you had earlier, before Hyunseok arrived, from the way she grows serious, her eyes watching you intently. You feel like running, fearing the conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. Not when Hyunseok mirrors Jennie’s position, looking at you too.
“It’s been strange,” you admit. “I don’t really know how to feel. I feel like I should be feeling worse?” you say it like a question, looking up at the ceiling as holding your friends’ gaze becomes too hard. “But I don’t. Like my body hurts, but my mind is just… numb.”
“That would be the meds for you,” Hyunseok says, and you reckon it makes sense.
“You think?” you ask as your gaze slides to him.
He nods. “You’re on high dosage anti-depressants right now,” he points out, because he’s a nurse and he would know as he’s been giving you said meds. “They kind of turn off emotions.”
“Right.” You look back up at the ceiling. “That would explain it. I haven’t really felt anything at all since I came home.” Except when you threw away the pictures on your wall, but even now, thinking back on it, you don’t feel the pain you should be feeling.
“That’s good, I think?” Jennie lets out.
“For a little while, maybe?” You sigh deeply. “But it will probably start driving me crazy soon.” You wet your lips, finding a dry spot you pull on with your teeth. “What writer doesn’t have emotions?”
“Girl, you don’t need to be writing right now,” Hyunseok says. “I still think it’s crazy you wrote and published a book in the same year considering it usually takes like a year and a half.”
“You have the editors to thank for that,” you say, chuckling. “They wanted to use Jennie’s fame.”
“As if you need it. You already shine on your own.” Jennie shakes her head. “But the fact you managed to do it is admirable.”
You smile, meeting her gaze. “Thanks.”
She smiles back. “Of course.”
There’s a silence, and you see Jennie’s eyes filling with a question that will make you want to die. Maybe because you’re close enough to her now you can practically read her thoughts.
“What are you going to do about Jungkook?”
You reckon Hyunseok had the same question in mind. Because he watches you intently, and you flee their gazes, looking up again.
But also, you look up because you don’t want them to know how much it hurts to even hear his name.
“Nothing,” you say. “I don’t…” You take a breath, hold it in for a few seconds before blowing it out. “I can’t do anything about it.”
“You could,” Jennie says.
“I don’t want to see him.” Your words are firm, and shouldn’t allow for discussion, yet she keeps going.
Of course she would. She was his friend first, wasn’t she?
“He feels guilty,” she lets out.
You close your eyes, because the pain is pushing through the numbness, blowing away the clouds covering the gaping hole in your chest. “Why would he? He’s not the one that stabbed me.”
The silence that follows is heavy, like you’re stupid and should understand. But why would he feel guilty? He made a choice, and that choice was to lie to you.
You haven’t been able to forget that. Even with the numbness.
“You fought that night, didn’t you?” she asks.
You clench your teeth as a lump grows in your throat. “He told you?”
“He…” she trails off, and she sighs. “He did.”
You wondered when she truly would approach the subject with you. It didn’t seem like she would, but you should have known it was coming.
“What did he say?”
It takes Jennie a moment before she answers. “He said he lied to you about going to see Sara.”
“Ah.”
It’s the only thing you manage to say. Not because of the lump in your throat, or of anything else, really, but just because there is nothing to say. There are no words down the hole in your chest, just primal pain that you hope will fade with time.
“You’re not planning to see him again, are you?” Jennie asks.
You cry. You can’t stop it. A tear spills out of your eye, dropping to the couch under your head.
“I can’t,” you whisper, because saying the words too loud would break. “I just can’t.”
Another silence falls upon you. And then she says, “He’s going back on tour.”
You’re happy for him. You know music is his passion, and you reckon being with his band mates will likely help him feel better. He won’t have time to constantly drink himself stupid anymore, at least. Though Jennie did say earlier that he seems to have entirely stopped drinking for now.
“Good,” you let out.
“Y/n.” It’s Hyunseok speaking, and you dry your eyes with your thumbs before turning your head to look at him.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to say something that will probably piss you off, but you shouldn’t push him away like that.”
You frown. “He lied.”
“And?” He gives you time to answer, but you don’t find anything to say. “He lied, but then he spent days just watching over you at the hospital. Don’t you feel like… the lying was inconsequential compared to everything else that happened?”
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“He had coffee with his ex that has cancer, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t cheat.”
You’re angry. A red, hot ball of fiery anger lighting up the hole in your chest, revealing all its jagged edges.
“Why are you defending him?” you ask.
“Because you were so in love with him, and you almost died, and he’s still just right there wanting to be with you. And you can’t even talk to him.”
“Fuck you,” you spit out.
“But it’s true,” Hyunseok says. “Right?”
That question is aimed at Jennie, who gives you an apologetic expression. “I’m not going to say you should get back together with him,” she says, much calmer than Hyunseok. “But I think you guys should at least talk a little.” Her eyes fill with tears. “Y/n, I’ve never seen him in such a state. He’s doing horrible.”
So am I? you think. But you don’t say it. Because you’ve just been so numb, and it would be a lie.
You’ve had phases in your life where you felt worse than this. And your therapist has been keen on making you understand that you shouldn’t feel guilty about it.
“I…” You shut your eyes hard, trying to not think of those big, doe eyes, of the emotions that used to swirl in their depths. “I just can’t. Not right now.”
Jennie – or maybe it’s Hyunseok? – reaches out to squeeze your hand.
“That’s okay,” Jennie says softly. “Just promise you’ll talk to him someday, when you’re ready.”
More tears fall down your cheeks, and someone gets up. But your hand is still being squeezed, and you open your eyes to meet Jennie’s gaze.
“I don’t know when I’ll be ready,” you admit, and you shatter.
A sob breaks through, and Jennie squeezes your hand harder.
“Girl, I’d take you in my arms, but I don’t want to hurt your ribs.”
You chuckle. A sad, pitiful sound that rips some of the jagged edges of the hole in your chest and throws them in your face. “Girl,” you choke out.
She just swipes her thumb on the back of your hand. “Take your time, bubs. But just promise me you’ll talk to him.”
You meet her gaze, give her a small nod. “I will.”
And it’s all you can say before you truly rupture, the numbness fading to be replaced by a truck of emotions hitting at full speed. Hyunseok comes back with tissues, drying your cheeks, and Jennie holds your hand through it all.
Without them, you’d crumble. But they hold you up and maybe, just maybe, there is light at the end of the tunnel.
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☆☆☆☆☆
I am sobbing out here. i think this chapter alone is the saddest thing i've ever written. i apologize to you all, feel free too scream at me
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter has mature content)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: cursing, alcohol, sasaengs, sara, a side character being diagnosed with cancer, cigarettes, panic attack, explicit content: jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, clit play (slaps), unprotected sex (wrap it if you tap it), creampie. Different kind of explicit content: physical assault, knife, blood.
☆word count: 12.9k
☆a/n: hope you guys enjoy this new chapter <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Sunday, October 26th
Jungkook is tired. Exhausted, even, and he wishes they didn’t have concerts back to back like they’ve had the last few weekends.
Three concerts one after the other is too much, he reckons. But at least, the streak is done, and they have until next Thursday before the next concert, though they’ll have to travel to a whole other country for that one.
To be fair, Vancouver isn’t too far from Seattle, but still.
Jungkook looks towards Taehyung, who’s typing away on his phone while the other members are slowly taking off the tour outfits to put on their regular clothes again. Taehyung’s smiling, most likely texting Jennie, and Jungkook wonders if you’re busy right now. It’s a little past 11 pm here, which means it should be…
His brain fails to do the maths, and Jungkook pulls his phone out to go look at the international clocks. It should be 4 pm in Seoul, according to the app, which means you’re probably in the meeting for the publishing of your book. Indeed, it’ll be out in two weeks, with a book release at midnight in Seoul, where Jennie, Mingyu, Lisa and probably even Rosé will be in attendance.
You said your agent believed it to be the best way to promote the book, and to have all eyes on it right from the start. Jungkook agrees that it’s a good idea, and he wishes he could be there to support you…
But he’ll be getting ready for a concert in the evening in yet another city. Actually, he’ll probably still be asleep then, considering the time difference.
He’s been missing you a lot. Despite frequent FaceTime calls and almost constant texting, when you’re awake, he feels like he left his heart in your hands that Sunday in August when they first had to leave for the South American leg of the tour. They visited multiple countries there, performing in Sao Paulo, Lima, Buenos Aires, Bogota and even Santiago. Each stop had more than one concert, and then they headed up to Mexico City before starting with a few shows in New York.
And now Seattle, and soon Vancouver. And after that, they’ll be going back down the West Coast.
Jungkook sighs, exhaustion swiftly pushing through him. He feels a little dizzy, and so he sits down, heading to his text messages with you.
[7:07 pm] You: good luck for the concert tonight
[7:08 pm] You: you’re gonna fuck shit up
Your messages made him smile earlier, and they still do as he rereads, imagining you saying it out loud with that twinkle in your eyes he’s been chasing in the night sky whenever the sun is down.
He hasn’t looked at the stars the same since the trip to Jeju. They remind him of you, and he’s taken a liking to stargazing each night, even though the city lights rarely let him see the stars like he saw them with you. They were infinite that night, with the Milky Way striking across the sky.
He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to see anything tonight. It was cloudy earlier, before they got to the arena, but the clouds were supposed to scatter around midnight…
Hopefully.
[11:13 pm] Jungkook: it was a good concert but oof i’m glad we’re done with seattle
He presses send, watching the message deliver on your message thread. He doubts you’ll reply right away, so he shoves his phone in the pocket of his pants, yawning as he glances around to see that they’re almost all ready to go.
Everyone is in different levels of exhaustion, it seems, with only Jimin brimming with energy as he had the brilliant idea to chug an energy drink before the encore. He’s currently yapping to Hoseok about something Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to, and Hoseok is replying with short one-worded answers, though it doesn’t deter Jimin.
Nothing ever really does. Jungkook envies that of his friend – talking has always been easy for Jimin, whereas Jungkook’s always been a little more on the introverted side. It almost cost him you at the beginning of your relationship, after all.
He blushes. Relationship is a big word. You’ve never really put a label on what it is between you and him, but Jungkook likes to tell himself that you’re his girlfriend. All the members act as if you are, too, so it’s been easy for him.
He wonders if you see him as your boyfriend. Or if the distance keeps you from imagining him as such. It hurts, his heart straining in his chest, and he wishes he could be by your side, if only for a few hours.
He’d ask you to be his girlfriend instead of just assuming you are. He’s thought about doing it over FaceTime, but it feels way too lame compared to the intensity of what he feels for you. And despite the distance, his feelings for you have just kept on growing since the end of August, only strengthening with every day that passes.
He believes you feel the same, if only because you always struggle with hanging up every time you FaceTime, telling him you need to see him for just a little longer. He never minds it, even though it steals some precious minutes of rest from him.
Who needs sleep when he can spend time with you instead?
“Let’s go,” Namjoon says to no one in particular, though Jungkook knows his words are aimed at the group of them.
Indeed, they all file out of the dressing room, heading to the two cars that’ll drive them back to the hotel. Jungkook climbs into the one with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin, the two latter deciding to go grab a beer at a local bar while Namjoon peers down at his phone in his hands.
He’s been talking with his ex these last few days, the one he was with during the summer. They didn’t last long, but it seems the feelings lingered on her side, because she reached out to him first. She was the one to end things, though, so Jungkook feels wary for his friend, but he hasn’t said anything.
With his history with Sara, it would probably be out of place for him to say anything. Because he never listened to Namjoon’s advice, no matter how many times Namjoon told him to break up with Sara and block her so that she doesn’t come back.
He still hasn’t blocked her, though he hasn’t replied to any of the messages she’s sent over the last few months. She doesn’t deserve his attention anymore, or at least he likes to tell himself that.
He’s too busy thinking about you anyway. Talking to you, too. There’s no room for Sara in his life when he’s with you.
The car reaches the hotel, parking out front. There are fans waiting outside, and Jungkook shuts his eyes in annoyance, though he knows it’s not as bad as those that come to his house.
There were two break-in attempts this last month, though the police was quick to intervene. Both people ended up doing some jail time, and they have yet to show up on the cameras again.
Hell, one of them was even deported to another country with a stain on their passport that blocks them from ever returning to South Korea.
Jungkook shakes the thoughts away – they’re too heavy, and he doesn’t have the energy for that right now. Instead, he waits for the manager to give them the go to exit the car, and he plasters a smile on his lips when he finally does get out, waving at the fans.
They scream at the sight of him and the other members, and Jungkook could kiss Taehyung on the forehead when he shushes them with a finger on his mouth. They all instantly fall silent, which makes Jimin snort and say, “Damn, they’re well-trained.”
Hopefully, none of the fans speak Korean, because there’s a sarcastic lilt to Jimin’s words. One that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the members, including Jungkook, and they all chuckle before heading in, wishing the fans good night.
Before he gets in, Jungkook makes sure to look up – there’s a break in the clouds, and he sees a lone star shining up above in all its beauty. He reckons it might be Jupiter, but he’ll have to make sure with his starmap app later.
For now, he focuses on heading to his hotel room to take a shower as he waits for you to get out of your meeting so that you can FaceTime before he goes to bed. It’s well past midnight when you finally text him to call, and he’s already half asleep in bed when he presses on the icon at the top of the conversation, the front camera turning on to reveal the dark circles under his eyes along with his tousled hair.
He looks even more exhausted than he feels, and he winces at the sight, trying to fix his hair quickly as the call connects.
“Hey,” you greet him the second you come into view.
You’re sitting at a coffeeshop from the looks of it, having clearly called the second you left the library where the book release will be. You’re sipping an iced americano, and you look so beautiful Jungkook thinks he might burst out crying.
Do you miss him as much as he misses you?
“Hey,” he echoes, wetting his lip. “How did the meeting go?”
You smile, glancing to the side as someone walks past you with a tray in hand. “It went really well. They’ll be able to sell alcohol.”
You’d been worried about that, as you claimed it’s one of the most fun parts of midnight releases. Especially with the crowd that’s expected since a bunch of celebrities will be in attendance.
“That’s amazing,” Jungkook says. “You must be relieved.”
You nod, your eyebrows raising over your eyes. “You have no clue. But what about you, how was the concert?”
“Same old,” Jungkook replies with a chuckle. “At this point, I think I could do the concert asleep.”
You laugh, the crystalline sound carrying so well through the phone Jungkook feels like you’re right here with him for a few seconds. His heart reaches for you, thinking it’ll find you… only to be met with a void that sounds like you.
He didn’t even know it was physically possible to miss someone this much.
“You probably could,” you agree, and then your features grow more serious. “You actually look exhausted.”
He sighs, rolling on his back as he holds the phone over his face. “Yeah, I am.” You look sad at his words, and he quickly adds, “But we have four days off until the next concert, so I’ll be able to rest a bunch.”
“Good.” You nod, as if to put emphasis on your word. “Really good. They shouldn’t overwork you guys like this.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Honestly, most of the time, it isn’t too bad. I’ve just been having trouble sleeping at this hotel, and it was three days of concerts straight.”
“Inhumane!” you let out, which only makes him laugh again.
“I’ll make sure you’re on the tour planning committee next time so we can avoid this.”
You smile. It’s infinitely soft, and Jungkook wishes he could reach through the screen to trace the curve of your lips with a finger.
“I’ll make sure all concerts are in Seoul,” you say with a nod. “Or wherever I’ll be in the world by then.”
“Here, probably.”
You snort. “I did not grow up in the West.” You tilt your head to the side, growing pensive. “I could probably easily follow if it was all in the US, though…”
That’s something Jungkook realized weeks ago, one night he couldn’t sleep and he just ended up staring at the ceiling. As a writer, you’re not confined to one country to be able to work. You could write from anywhere in the world. If it weren’t for the fact you’re releasing your book in Seoul and have to do some promotion for it there, he would have suggested that you join on part of the tour.
But it feels like a lot to ask. Even Minha got too tired and decided to go back to Korea for a few weeks before coming back some time in November. At least that was the plan the last time he talked to Seokjin about it, and Jungkook genuinely hopes she’ll come back.
Seokjin has been a grumpy pain in the ass since she left.
“You could,” Jungkook says as he pulls on his piercings. “And then you could be in Seoul with me when the tour finishes.”
“That’d be amazing.”
Jungkook agrees. To be with you, back home… with nowhere to go and nothing to do. He’d take his damn time with you.
The thought immediately sends a bolt of lust down his spine, and it shoots forward to his dick.
“I miss you,” he says. He wets his lips, shuts his eyes for a few seconds to keep the arousal at bay – you’re in public after all. “I wish I could be with you right now.”
“Oh, Jungkook,” you let out, and he opens his eyes to see a pout on your lips, your gaze growing sad, heavier. “I miss you too.”
“Just want to kiss you.” Jungkook sighs, and he rolls on his side. “Really fucking wanna kiss you, actually.”
Your cheeks dust with pink. “Is that all you want to do?”
The question makes his heartbeat skyrockets, and Jungkook shuts his eyes with a small chuckle. “Don’t do this to me.”
You laugh, mischief in every word you say next, so low he barely hears them. “I really wanna be able to touch you.”
“Yeah?” he lets out as his dick hardens at your words.
You look around, bringing the phone closer to yourself. “Kinda want to ride you, too.”
Fuck.
He can picture it. You on top of him, your breasts bouncing as he jackhammers his hips into yours, the way you scream his name when you come…
You nod your head. “It’d be better than your hand, no?”
You’re insanity personified. Or maybe that’s him. Slowly going insane for a woman on the other side of the world.
He says your name like a warning. “People are going to hear you.”
You laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “Alright then, I’ll stop.”
“Are you far from home?” Jungkook asks, his hand going down his body as he tries to readjust himself in his boxers.
“Why?” you ask innocently.
“You know exactly why.” His voice is low, husky, and he wonders if you can hear the urgency in his tone.
He needs you so bad. Misses you even more and he is truly, fully, going insane with every moment spent away from you.
“Well, I’m meeting with Mingyu soon.”
It’s like someone threw a bucket of cold water at him, and the arousal slips out of Jungkook as if it was never there to begin with.
You’re friends with Mingyu. Obviously a lot closer to Jennie, but you’ve been hanging out with Mingyu lately, hitting the gym with him and Jennie whenever she can. But it hasn’t been too often lately, because she’s been out of the city to film a movie that’ll release next year.
And Jungkook loves Mingyu. They’re best friends after all. But Mingyu is attractive, and a flirt, and has mentioned he finds you attractive before, and…
Jungkook stops the train of thoughts before it can spiral any further.
“Gym sesh?” he asks.
You nod. “And then dinner with Hyunseok and his boyfriend.”
The jealousy dissipates at the knowledge you won’t spend too long with Mingyu, but Jungkook still wishes it could be him instead.
You’ve never worked out together before despite the multiple times you hung out at his house. The only time you ever were in his gym together is that night he ended up fingering you before you ran away.
“Where are you guys going?” he asks.
“The restaurant you recommended in Seongsu.”
You say the words with sadness etched around your eyes. Jungkook frowns at the sight, wishing he could take you in his arms.
“You okay?”
“I wish we were going together,” you admit. “I… I really miss you a lot too.”
A lump forms in Jungkook’s throat, and he gulps around it. But then…
They have five days off between the San Francisco concert and then the following one. Maybe he could fly home for a time…
He sits up in bed, eyes going wide. “I’ll come.”
“What?” you let out.
He laughs, like he should have figured it out before. “I’ll come home in two weeks. I have five days off, I can easily fly in and spend them with you.”
“Don’t say that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook’s excitement slowly dwindles to nothing. “Why?”
“Don’t make promises you can’t hold.”
He sucks on his piercings. “But I can,” he insists. “I’ll book flights with the manager. I bet some of the other members would also love to go home for a little.”
“But you’re already exhausted,” you point out, though Jungkook sees the spark of hope as it ignites in your eyes, an echo of the one in his, he’s pretty sure.
“Who cares?” he lets out. “I’ll sleep on the flight to Incheon, and then I’ll sleep with you in my arms.”
“You’ll snore in my ears all night.”
You’re smiling. You’re smiling and it’s like the light at the end of the tunnel. Jungkook runs towards it, dives in it.
“I will, and you’ll love it,” he jokes.
The smile stretches even wider, turning into a full-blown grin. “I will.”
Jungkook sends a message to the group chat, asking who wants to go with him, and then returns to the call with you. “I’ll see you soon.”
It’s like he’s suddenly powered by a nuclear reactor, and he feels like getting up to jump around like a little kid. He keeps it in though, his heart galloping in his chest instead, and he realizes his gaze is wet as a tear slips free, a bearer of so much joy he doesn’t even bother wiping it away.
You look just as happy. Your eyes shining with unshed tears too, your grin still just as wide. You laugh, that same crystalline sound wrapping around Jungkook like a warm blanket. It doesn’t hurt like before, just fills him with far too much happiness for his heart to handle.
“I can’t wait,” he says. “We’ll cuddle and work out and I’ll cook some food for you.”
“Oh, your food,” you let out. “I fucking miss your food.”
His lips curve upwards. “I’ll cook you breakfast and lunch and dinner, and as many snacks as you want.”
“I’ll get fat.”
“More of you to love,” he says, and then his gaze widens at his choice of words.
Love is a big word you have yet to say to each other, sort of, and Jungkook does not want to say it through the phone for the first time. Not when he whispered on your skin that he was falling in love with you the last time he saw you.
But he’s not falling anymore. Things are more than clear now.
Your eyes widen too, and you let out a small giggle. “Of course, of course.”
Jungkook’s phone buzzes in his hand with an upcoming message from Hoseok.
[1:04 am] Hoseok: heryung’s home those dates, i’m fucking in
“Hobi is coming too,” Jungkook says.
He receives a message from Seokjin and Namjoon at the same time, both of them saying they want to come as well.
“Jin and Namjoon too,” he adds a second later.
“Taehyung?” you ask, probably thinking about Jennie.
“He hasn’t replied yet, but I’m sure he’ll come.”
“Good,” you let out. And then you chuckle, eyes falling to your coffee. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
He nods. “Right after your book release.”
You laugh again, slightly shaking your head like you can’t believe it. “I can’t fucking wait.”
“Me neither.”
And it’s true. The two next weeks are going to be hell. If only because Jungkook knows time will feel eternal, inching forward at a snail pace. But even if time stretches indefinitely…
You’ll still be there at the end of those two weeks. And there’s nothing in this world that matters more than that.
Monday, November 10th
Your steps are light today. There’s a bounce to them as if you’re a second way from flying away like a balloon in the wind. It makes sense, as you’ll finally see Jungkook after months of waiting to see him again. Not only that, but your book release was a success over the weekend, and you’ve made record sales since Saturday night.
Your dreams are paying off. In every aspect of your life, it seems. And you really feel so fucking light you might start floating soon. Hell, you’ll float to Jungkook’s place.
You’re on your way there. With a duffel bag with clothes for the next few days, because you’re not planning on leaving his house until he has to leave and go back to America.
He said he wouldn’t let you leave. That he’ll lock you in the basement if you try to, which only makes you laugh because his basement is the least threatening basement you’ve ever seen with the karaoke corner and the bar and the gym.
You’re walking down the boulevard, the wind surprisingly warm today. Or maybe the warmth comes from within, your heart inundating your bloodstream with it as it pumps your blood.
In just twenty minutes, you’ll finally be at Jungkook’s place. He offered to pick you up, but you had a meeting with Stella about the book release and you didn’t want him to wait around for you when he just landed from a twelve-hour flight. So you convinced him to go home, and you practically ran out the second the meeting finished.
Your bag has been ready since he told you he’d come two weeks ago.
So, you walk with a bounce in your step, unable to stop yourself from smiling as you turn into Jungkook’s street. You pass by two girls as you do so, and you smile at them, only to have them glare at you like you’re weird.
Right. People don’t usually smile at each other here. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re so damn happy to see him. And it doesn’t take you long to reach his house, the street outside blissfully empty. He’s given you the code to get in without having to knock, and you head to the door, pressing it in before pushing the door open.
And then you’re stepping in, kicking your shoes off as you inhale a whiff of food. He’s cooking, much like he said he would, and you drop your bag and purse by the door before running in.
He’s in the kitchen, his back turned to you as he’s at the stove, mixing something in a pan with a wooden spoon. He doesn’t hear you, and you just stand there for a few seconds, taking in the fact that he’s standing in the same room as you. That, in a second, he’ll turn around and see you, and you’ll be able to run up to him, to hold him in your arms like you’ve been craving since August.
“Hey,” you let out, unable to wait any longer.
He startles, looking over his shoulder, and the second he sees you standing there, Jungkook spins around, running up to you and picking you up in his arms. You wrap yours around his neck as he spins you around, and you giggle as the world spins and spins.
“You’re here,” he says like he can’t believe it, and then he’s laughing too. “You’re here.”
“I am,” you say, and he stops spinning to look up at you, and you crash your lips on his with enough force he stumbles back.
His lips are just as pillowy soft as you remember them to be, and they part on a small grunt that just makes you laugh again.
“You’re here,” he repeats against your mouth, like he can hardly believe it.
“I’ve always been here,” you say as you pull away to meet his eyes. And then you fall in the depths of them, in the emotions and the stars that look like nebulas as he stares at you with such intensity you feel like no one’s ever truly seen you before. “You’re the one that left.”
He lets out a small chuckle, and then he puts you down. He doesn’t let you get too far, his hands cupping your cheeks so he can pull you into another kiss, much more languid this time.
It’s a heavy kiss. It holds the weight of the months apart, of the distance and the numerous FaceTime calls where you just craved the other’s touch. It’s heavy with the feelings that slowly appeared between the two of you over the summer, strengthened by the time in Jeju. It’s heavy with the way those feelings kept growing despite being away from each other since then, too.
It’s heavy with the fact he alluded to loving you on that FaceTime call two weeks ago when he decided to come back. And fuck, as he pulls away from you to rest his forehead against yours, his thumbs swiping the side of your face, those three little words almost tumble free.
But then the smoke detector starts blaring, and you both startle, glancing at the stove.
“Shit,” Jungkook says, and he runs back to the stove, quickly lifting the pan from it. He grabs the wooden spoon, stirring the contents of the pan, and then looks at you. “Can you grab a towel and shake it at the smoke detector?”
You nod, gaze widening because why didn’t you think of it before, and then you’re jogging into the kitchen, pulling the drawer with the dish towels open to grab one. And then you’re shaking it at the ceiling as Jungkook cranks the fan up to its highest setting. It’s so loud you can barely hear yourself think, but soon enough, the smoke alarm stops, and Jungkook turns down the fan and opens a window instead.
“I think the oil burned a little,” he says, “and some of the chicken might not be edible anymore but…” He shrugs with a laugh. “We still have plenty enough for a snack.”
You smile, walking back behind the kitchen island, throwing the towel on the counter. “Let me see.”
He lowers the pan, and you gaze at its contents. Indeed, some of the vegetables and chicken have blackened, though most of it still looks perfectly fine.
“Yeah, we’re good,” you say with a nod. Right on cue, your stomach wails, and you both burst out laughing. “I’m starving.”
“Then let’s eat,” he says, grinning wide. “I’m famished too.”
You grab plates from the cupboard next to the stove fan, and you help Jungkook with splitting the charred food with what’s still good before you split that into two plates. Luckily enough, and because Jungkook always cooks for an army, you both have plenty enough food for a full meal, and you eat at the kitchen island, Jungkook sitting so close you feel his thigh against yours. You don’t mind – you’ve needed him close, far closer than that, for months.
You’re not going to push him away now that he’s finally here.
When the meal is done and the dishes are washed and left to dry, you return to the front door to grab your duffel bag, bringing it upstairs in Jungkook’s bedroom. He’s your shadow on the way there, right behind you the whole time like he can’t let you out of sight for more than a few seconds.
You put your duffel down by the bed, turning around with the intention of teasing Jungkook about it, but the intense look in his eyes stops the words from coming out, your smile slowly dying.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers as he takes a step toward you.
“Jungkook…”
You both start walking toward each other then, crashing in the middle of his bedroom. Jungkook’s lips are on yours quicker than you can even register it, and it clashes so hard you think your teeth might have slightly bashed together. But it doesn’t hurt, not when emotions pour out of his body and yours like a dam just broke between you and you’re losing yourselves in the dizzying dance of your lips on his, of your hands getting lost in his hair while his hold the back of your head and your waist.
The kiss deepens as Jungkook nudges your lips open with his tongue. He’s gentle about it, like he’s coaxing a wild animal into surrendering to him, and you’d laugh about it, say it’s not needed, if you weren’t so busy kissing him back with so much passion your heart races for a finish line you know it’ll find somewhere in his ribcage.
As your tongues twirl together, Jungkook backs you toward the bed, though he doesn’t push you down yet. He keeps on kissing you, keeps on holding you close like he can’t let go of you yet, even if it’s just for the few heartbeats it’d take for you to fall back on the bed. And you don’t want to let go either. Even as your lungs start burning from lack of oxygen, you just keep on moving your lips against the pillowy softness of his, his taste inebriating on your tongue.
You’ll never get enough of this man. There aren’t enough days in eternity for you to get bored of him, but you want every single one of them. You want to challenge fate, tell it to try and break you apart now that you’re together.
As if that’ll ever happen.
Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, his lips swollen by it, and you just stare at each other for a few seconds like you’re trying to make sure that this is really happening, that you’re finally reunited. And you smile, so wide, because this is as real as can be.
You’re finally here together.
You sit back on the bed, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to tug him down with you. He resists for a few seconds like he needs to look at you for just a little longer, and then he climbs on top of you, spreading your legs with a knee as you lie back down with him hovering over you. His mouth is on yours a heartbeat later, so soft and sweet you could cry.
“I don’t think I can take my time with you right now,” he whispers in a desperate plea when there’s a short break in the kiss so you can breathe.
You’re holding his cheeks, and you immediately pull him back down for another kiss that leads to you sucking on his lower lip, teasing it with your teeth.
“Don’t take your time,” you reply when you part.
It’s like you’ve unleashed a beast. Jungkook grunts, grinding into you to show you just how hard he already is, and then he straightens, taking off his shirt, hands flying to his belt after. He unbuckles it, takes it off in a swift motion, and throws it on the floor. It thumps on the hardwood floor, and you imagine it probably left a mark, but Jungkook does not seem like he gives a fuck as he gets up to quickly push his pants and underwear down.
He steps out of the pile of clothing in his naked glory save for a silver chain on his neck, and he fists his dick, stroking himself as he looks down at you. You sit up, hand reaching for him, and he guides himself to your mouth.
You know what he wants, and you want it just as bad as he does. You’ve been dying for a taste of him, so you lick at the bead of precum that prettily sits on his slit, and then take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around him. Jungkook grunts, head throwing back as you suck hard, and he grabs your cheeks, pulling out of your mouth.
“I’ll come if you suck me,” he says, and he chuckles breathlessly. “I want to be inside you.”
You’re not going to say no to that, not when he starts undressing you in loving gestures, peppering kisses on every inch of skin revealed until you’re just sitting there in your bra and underwear. He leaves those on, pushing you back on the bed until he’s on top of you again, his dick rubbing at your clothed pussy.
“Can already feel how wet you are,” he says as you let out a breathy sound.
Indeed, your panties are sticking to your wetness, even more so as Jungkook rubs himself on you. You spread your legs as wide open as you can as you chase more sensations, more friction, but Jungkook doesn’t give in right away, instead returning to your lips for another languid kiss. Your fingers are on his back, nails slightly digging in his skin, and Jungkook just keeps grinding into you, working you into a tight, uncomfortable knot that refuses to let go.
Not when there’s still fabric between you and him.
“Jungkook,” you whimper against his mouth.
He pulls away to look at your face. His pink lips are wet, glistening in the light coming in from the window, and your gaze catches on the mole under his mouth.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Jungkook asks.
“I want you inside of me,” you reply as you wrap your legs around his waist as if that’ll push him in.
“Want me to ruin you in that pretty thong?”
Indeed, you made sure to wear a nice lace set for him. Maybe that’s why he left the bra on.
“Please,” you beg.
He chuckles darkly, pecking your lips once. “Of course, baby. I got you.”
He kneels back between your legs, hands caressing your thighs a few times as he looks down at you, his eyes shining with untethered lust and passion for you. He glances down between your legs, one hand following to gently rub at your clit through the fabric, and you moan under his ministrations. He sucks in a breath at the sound, and then he pushes your panties to the side so he can directly touch you.
It’s so much sensation you almost close your legs, but he holds them open before grabbing his dick, stroking himself again as he watches your pussy. You whine, and he taps your clit, making you jerk against the bed in surprise, the sudden pain turning into burning pleasure.
“Oh, you like this,” he teases as if he didn’t already know.
He slaps your clit again, harder this time, and your eyes flutter close as you spread your legs open wider. And then, instead of using his hand, Jungkook taps his dick on you, before starting to rub himself between your folds, collecting your juices. It feels insanely good, and you fist the sheets, lifting your hips trying to get him to push in.
He doesn’t. He just keeps rubbing himself on you, your panties to the side, so much so you know your panties are ruined long before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, pushing his tip inside of you.
It stretches, burning slightly despite how wet you are, and you moan his name in a broken sound.
“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says as he slowly pulls out before starting to push in again, gaining another inch this time. “Way too fucking long.”
He keeps that infernal push and pull up until he manages to fully seat himself in you, and then he finally bends down again, finding your mouth for a sloppy kiss. His tongue is between your lips, his dick inside of you, and you’ve never felt so at home before.
Jungkook’s dick twitches inside of you once as you tighten your walls, and he grunts, pulling away from the kiss.
“I’m going to fuck you so rough,” he says, and it’s the only warning you get before he starts jackhammering inside of you, soon leaning back and pushing your legs up to his chest as he keeps fucking you.
His balls slap on your ass as he spears you wide open, and your mind swims with pleasure as he kisses the side of your leg, teeth nipping at your skin. You say his name as you look at the way the muscles of his abdomen contract with the effort from fucking you. He says your name back, reverence coating every syllable, and your heart swells so much for him, right as the knot he’s been working you into gets ready to snap.
He must have sensed it. Because he pulls out, flips you on your stomach, pushes one of your legs up and then slips inside of you again, reaching so much deeper this time. You hide your face in the sheets as you mewl at the sensation, and he’s unforgiving, fucking you fast and deep, so rough he slowly pushes you up the bed. You hold onto the sheets as if that’ll save you, but nothing can, not when he’s fucking you like this.
You come before he does. The knot inside of you snaps so hard and so suddenly you lose your vision for a moment, everything going white. He slows down then, coaxing the orgasm out of you in slow swipes of his hips, milking it out for so long you think you might be trembling when it finally starts fading.
Jungkook bends down then, leaning with his elbows on each side of your head. You turn your head to the side to catch sight of him, and he finds your mouth, kissing you sweetly as he keeps up with the slower rhythm he established when you were coming. It’s dizzying, mindnumbing, and you doubt you’re still fully in your body as he slowly starts to pick up the pace, chasing his own climax.
You reach back, cupping his cheek, and then you say, “Please come for me.”
It works. The words make Jungkook pick up the same relentless pace as earlier, and he fucks you hard into the mattress, his balls slapping against your clit now. It feels so good you think you might come again, even as his motions grow sloppy until he grunts out your name, slamming to the hilt as he comes deep within you, his dick twitching and twitching with every spurt of cum he paints you with.
Jungkook leans his forehead on the side of your face as you just breathe in sync for a time, and he interlaces your fingers on the bed. His weight on you is so comforting you feel your eyes watering. You smile, wide, mind buzzing with the remnants of your orgasm.
“I missed you too,” you say.
He chuckles, pecking your cheek. “I know, baby. I know.”
His dick, now softened, slips out of you, and his cum spills out, staining the sheets under you. But Jungkook doesn’t move, keeps caging your body with his like he’s protecting you from the harsh reality of the world outside. And you don’t want to move either. Don’t want to end this moment with him, but the small eternity eventually passes, Jungkook getting up and pulling you with him. You’re wobbly on your feet, but he holds you up, wraps his arms around you in a soulcrushing hug that you return without hesitation.
And then he tugs you to the shower, where you end up having sex again. And then you’re in his bed, sheets off in the washing machine, talking about the months apart. You end up making love again so many times as the day passes that you doubt you’ll be able to walk tomorrow, but you’re catching up for the months apart, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s much later that night, when the sheets are back on the bed and you’re lying in Jungkook’s embrace, looking at each other, that Jungkook says, “I know I said I’d be with you for tomorrow, but I have a quick thing to do in the afternoon.”
You scan his features, his slightly chapped lips from all the kissing. “What do you have to do?”
There’s a short silence as he just keeps on looking at you, and then he replies, “Just a quick something with the company.”
You nod, eyes fluttering shut as you nestle yourself closer in his embrace. “No worries. I’ll stay here while you go.”
He kisses the top of your head, his loose grip around your waist tightening to hold you impossibly closer. “Perfect.”
You smile as he pecks your head again, and you let his warmth guide you to a dreamless sleep that smells like him.
Tuesday, November 11th
Seoul is cold today, the warmth from yesterday having faded away so thoroughly it seems like winter's holding the world in its clutches. Jungkook hides his face from the wind in the lapels of the jacket you forced him to wear, smiling as he remembers how you used them to tug him into a kiss that almost convinced him to not go. And as another gush of wind bites at his features, he reckons he should have been convinced.
He knows he agreed to meet up with Sara last week when she called him crying and he picked up half asleep not realizing it was her. But he doesn’t want to see her, not when he fell for you so, so hard.
But then again, he’s going to pick up roses on the way back, and he’ll officially ask you to be his girlfriend. He wants the label, wants you to call him his boyfriend to everyone you know. He wants more than just the rumors about you and him that have slowly dwindled down over the months he spent away.
Hell, he wants to scream at the world that he’s in love with you. And he reckons some dirty, ugly part of himself just wants to rub it into Sara’s face after the way she’s treated him in the past.
Jungkook finally reaches the coffeeshop Sara asked to meet up at, and he walks in, the warmth a welcome reprieve from the world outside. He heads to the counter to order a hot cup of coffee, and he’s thankful that the person behind the register is an elderly woman. She just smiles at him with a nod of her head, clearly not recognizing him, and then she makes his cup of coffee, handing it to him.
He bows and thanks her before taking it, and then he looks around, wondering where Sara might be. The coffeeshop is tiny and completely empty, but then he spies a staircase in the corner, and he glances at the lady behind the counter.
“Is there someone upstairs?” he asks.
She nods. “A young lady arrived earlier and went upstairs,” she informs him.
He thanks the lady again, and then he heads in that direction, careful to not spill the hot liquid on himself. He climbs upstairs, indeed finding Sara sitting at a table overlooking the street.
Save for her, the floor is empty too, and Jungkook reckons her choice of meeting point was commendable. No one will know they were here together at all.
“Hey,” he says as he nears the table where she’s sat, and Sara startles, looking at him.
The dark circles around her eyes are witnesses to what she’s been going through, and Jungkook stops her from getting up when she tries to.
“No need,” he says, putting his cup of coffee on the table before sitting across from her.
“I didn’t think you would actually come,” she says, her voice wavery like she’s about to cry.
He reckons his would too, if he were to be diagnosed with cancer.
“I said I would.”
She nods weakly, looking down at the smoothie in front of her, clearly sensing that he is closed off.
“Well, thank you,” she says.
He nods curtly, glancing at the steam wafting out of his cup of coffee, his gaze then trailing outside to see some snowflakes fluttering about.
“I just wanted…” she starts, falling silent. “To catch up, you know?”
He wets his lips, sighing as he looks at her again. “Like I said over the phone, I have someone in my life now,” he says. “I don’t really want to catch up.”
She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just staring at him unblinkingly. “Why are you here, then?”
Because you might be dying, Jungkook thinks, but he can’t bring himself to say it aloud.
“You said you wanted to apologize,” he reminds her instead, because she did mention that over the phone.
Her jaw clenches, a muscle ticking under the skin. “Can’t we catch up first?”
“I don’t really have much to say to you, Sara.”
Her eyebrows almost touch over her eyes as she frowns. “Aren’t you touring? Surely, you must have stories to tell about that.”
He widens his gaze, surprised at her audacity. “Sara, I told you I have someone in my life. She’s the one I want to tell my stories to, not you.”
It hurts her. The frown falls, replaced by a silver line slowly growing in her eyes. She blinks the tears away, looking out the window with a small, hurt chuckle.
“She’s that writer, isn’t she?”
So, Sara must have seen the rumors about you, then.
Jungkook nods. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“You know, Seojoon broke up with me because he said I’m still in love with you,” Sara casually says, and Jungkook hates the way his heart strains in his chest like a reflex.
He didn’t even know Seojoon had broken up with her.
“I’m sorry,” he lets out, and he’s relieved he sounds a little bit genuine.
Because frankly, he doesn’t care that she still loves him. He hardly thinks it’s true.
She’s too good of a manipulator for it to be true.
“It’s…” she trails off, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s whatever.”
Jungkook purses his lips, but doesn’t find words to say in return. So he busies himself with taking a sip of his coffee, and it’s so hot it almost burns the skin off his tongue. He puts the cup back down, figuring he’s going to have to wait before drinking.
“Honestly, Jungkook, I really wished we could catch up like old times.”
He shuts his eyes at the sadness laced with her words. It’s so potent he almost tastes it on his tongue despite the burn left behind by the coffee.
“I get that,” he says, looking at her. “But what we had was extremely toxic. I don’t want to bring that back into my life.”
“So you’re calling me toxic?” she says.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You have to be aware that our relationship was toxic, Sara. I’m not saying you were.” Even though she definitely was. “I think it’s better left in the past.”
She takes a deep breath, and then draws a sip from the straw in her smoothie. It takes her a moment to speak again, but then she says, “Okay, then. It was toxic. I guess this whole…” she motions at herself, “thing has really just put things in perspective for me.”
Jungkook meets her gaze, but remains silent as he waits for her to keep going.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” She sighs. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”
He clenches his jaw, not expecting the words to hurt as much as they do. He thought it’d be liberating to hear it, but it just tastes bitter.
“But you also weren’t perfect,” she adds, and it explains the bitterness behind the words.
Because with Sara, nothing ever means what it’s supposed to mean. She always has an ulterior motive, and Jungkook really doesn’t understand why he agreed to meet up. As he sits in front of her, he realizes that he’s been over her for months now, and he likes it as it is.
Likes that she’s just a memory from the past. He’s sad she’s sick, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t want to walk down memory lane when it comes to her.
“Alright Sara,” he says. “Anything else you want to say before I leave?”
“You’re not drinking the coffee?” she asks, her eyes round with fear.
Jungkook glances at the cup, and it looks just as hot as it was earlier. “I’m not sure it was a good idea for us to meet up.”
She starts crying. And he doesn’t know how to react, the good part of him wanting to comfort her, but the more rational one remembering that she uses tears as a weapon all the time.
“I might die, JK,” she says. “I’m scared.”
He shuts his eyes again, because what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?
“You’ve been doing treatments, no?” he asks when he opens his eyes again.
She chuckles, but it’s entirely void of joy. And then she takes off the wig she’s wearing, throwing it on the table. “Yeah.”
Jungkook stares at the wig for a few seconds before looking up at her. She looks so sad like this, so vulnerable, that the good part of him wins.
“You still look good,” he reassures her.
“Thank you for acknowledging that a woman does not need hair to be attractive,” she says, using his compliment as an attack, as always.
He tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows like ‘Really?’.
“No, seriously,” she adds, and she wipes at her cheeks. “It’s something I keep telling myself every time I look at myself in the mirror.” She gulps and it’s loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t recognize myself anymore. Even with the wig on.”
“I’m sorry,” he lets out, voice barely above a whisper.
She shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ll kick cancer’s ass and grow my hair back.”
“You will.”
She smiles, so sad he looks outside again to see it doesn’t seem to be snowing anymore. “Thank you,” she lets out. And then she adds, with no regard to him, “And I’m really sorry for taking you for granted all these years. I thought I’d always have you by my side.”
He clenches his jaw, sucking on his piercings hard enough to hurt. “It is what it is,” he says after a few beats of silence. “I couldn’t keep being treated like that forever.”
She nods. “Fair. I really do apologize for everything, Jungkook.”
He meets her gaze, gives her a nod. “Thank you.”
He hears the clear scuffle of steps in the staircase, and his heart stops for a second at the thought of being seen with her. But then Heryung appears at the top of the stairs, and relief washes through him.
Only to be replaced by a wave of sick dread as she takes in the sight of him, gaze widening.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as Hoseok appears behind her.
Jungkook just looks between Heryung and Hoseok a few times before glancing at Sara. She’s looking down at the table like she’s guilty, and he realizes she planned this.
She wanted them to get caught. To be seen together. And for that reason and that reason only, Jungkook gets up from the table, his anger so sudden and potent he figures it best to leave and not say hurtful things to her.
“Nothing,” Jungkook says, and he walks away, not even glancing back.
He’s glad he didn’t take his coat off, so he doesn’t have to awkwardly put it back on before storming away. But despite trying to get away before something more can happen, Hoseok steps in his path, forcing him to stop.
“Does Y/n know you’re here?”
Jungkook frowns. “Hobi, let me leave.”
“I thought you were really into Y/n,” Hoseok adds despite the warning in Jungkook’s tone.
“I am, and I’m going back to her right now, alright?”
Hoseok frowns, but remains silent, stepping aside to let him pass. Jungkook doesn’t wait a second longer, and he quickly runs down the stairs before returning to the cold world outside.
He really shouldn’t have come.
*****
Jungkook’s been silent ever since he came back from the company. You think it might be because he had to call the police before being able to get into the house. You were napping, and so you didn’t hear, but he apparently caught two girls trying to come in when he arrived.
When are people going to get tired of this? It doesn’t make sense to you. As if Jungkook would be happy to see them walk into his house…
He called them sasaengs, but you think it’s more than that. It’s a clinical level of delusion that would need severe therapy and most likely meds to heal from. Because who in their right mind believes breaking into someone’s house will make them like you?
He made dinner when he came home, busying himself in the kitchen for nearly half an hour. You tried to engage in conversation, but he looked so out of it you ended up leaving him alone, though you did the dishes every time he was done with something, if only to keep yourself occupied.
Over dinner, he told you that the meeting at the company was a waste of time, and that he wishes he’d stayed home with you instead. You smiled, telling him you wish he stayed too, and he only then seemed to start relaxing. He still hasn’t been talkative, even as he made love to you on the couch in the living room, while a movie you did not bring yourself to care about played in the background. You then took a shower, made love again in his bed, and then went downstairs for a snack, which you ended up eating in the living room, with yet another movie playing in the background.
And Jungkook is now lying with his head on your chest, soft snores coming out of him at regular intervals while you scroll on your phone.
You receive a text message from Heryung, and you click on it, expecting her to update you about what you’ll do this weekend, as she suggested hanging out while she’s here.
To your surprise, her message is in fact not about meeting up at all, and you frown as you read.
[11:23 pm] Heryung: is everything okay with jk?
[11:23 pm] You: yes?
[11:24 pm] You: there were people at his house earlier but the police scared them off
[11:25 pm] Heryung: he just seemed rattled when we saw him earlier with sara
You stare at your phone, ice filling every inch of your body.
Jungkook was with Sara earlier?
[11:25 pm] You: wdym with sara
It takes a moment for Heryung to reply, and your heart is beating so incredibly fast by the time her message comes in that you feel dizzy.
[11:29 pm] Heryung: he was talking with her at a coffee shop earlier?
[11:30 pm] Heryung: didn’t he tell you?
No, he, as a matter of fact, did not tell you. In truth, he lied to you.
Jungkook fucking lied to you.
“Jungkook,” you let out as you put your phone down, trying to rouse him from his sleep. You push on him, and he grunts as his grip around you tightens. “Jungkook,” you repeat, your tone firmer this time.
“Mmh?” he hums.
“Jungkook, get the fuck up.”
The urgency in your tone must have woken him right up, because he sits up, throwing you a confused glance as he runs a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.
“What?”
You’re disgusted, looking at him then. Because if he lied to you so easily about seeing Sara, didn’t he lie about the rest, too?
“What were you doing with your ex this afternoon?”
Your question does wake him right up. His gaze widens, fear filling the depth of his eyes, and he looks around for his phone, not finding it as it’s currently on the counter in the kitchen, where he left it to charge earlier.
“It was nothing,” he says, and then he must sense it sounds bad, because he adds, “I promise.”
“You said you were at the company.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you get up from the couch, heading to the kitchen. He follows behind you, trying to grab your arm, but you shake out of his grip.
“Don’t touch me right now.”
You would rather jump off a bridge than be touched by him right now.
“Sorry,” he says. “Y/n, she has cancer and she just wanted to talk.”
You laugh, a bitter taste coating your entire mouth. Because what the fuck do you mean he came home and made love to you twice without saying anything? No wonder he was so silent when he arrived.
“I don’t care,” you reply as you find your purse.
You’re wearing Jungkook’s sweater right now, the one he gave you last August, the one you were wearing when you got here. Which is a relief – you don’t have enough energy to go upstairs to grab your stuff right now.
You want out, and right now.
“She wanted to apologize,” he adds. “It really was nothing, and I shouldn’t have gone.”
You laugh again, shaking your head as you glance at him. “I really don’t care.”
You walk around him, heading towards the front door.
“Will you stop for a second so I can explain?” he says behind you.
You spin around, and he’s so close he almost bumps into you. You raise a finger, pointing at him accusingly. “You should have explained before going.”
“Well, with your reaction, I’m sure you would not have understood.”
The audacity of this man…
You spin on your heels again, heading towards the front door. Good thing you’re wearing sweatpants, and not the silky PJ shorts you brought in your duffel bag.
“Y/n, stop, I did not mean that,” he says behind you as you’re halfway through the living room, heading to the hall that leads to the front door. “She was shitty, like she always is, and I honestly just want to pretend it never happened.”
“Why the fuck did you go see her, then?” you ask.
“She has cancer,” he repeats. “She called crying and said she needed to talk to someone, and that she wanted to apologize.”
“It’s unfortunate for her that she’s sick, it really is,” you say, and you mean it. “But if you think that that’s the biggest problem, then I don’t have anything to do here anymore.”
“What’s the problem?” he asks, which only makes you laugh bitterly again.
A look over your shoulder tells you the laugh hurt him. He looks like you’ve slapped him across the face, and you really need to get out of this house before you actually do it.
“You lied, Jungkook. You lied like it was nothing.”
“I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of this,” he says, and his voice shakes like he’s about to cry. “I didn’t even want to see her.”
You turn around. He’s further away this time, having stopped at the start of the hall, of which you’re already almost all the way down.
“But you still went, and you lied about it,” you say. “You really believe I’ll trust a single word you say after that?”
He closes his eyes, cards his hand through his hair again. “Y/n, don’t blow this out of proportion, please. Let’s talk it out.”
“I do not want to talk it out with you,” you spit. “I don’t entertain cheaters.”
You resume your walk to the door, kicking off the slippers he got for you to put your shoes on instead.
“It’s freezing outside, surely you’re not going to walk home.”
You look over your shoulder. “I think I might punch you if you stop me.”
“Your things are upstairs,” he points out, and there’s terror in his voice. It’s shaking at the edges, and you reckon he seems to be shaking, too.
“Give them to Mingyu, he’ll bring them to me.”
You turn to grab the door knob.
“Y/n, stop,” Jungkook insists again. “I’m not a cheater. I didn’t cheat, we just talked.”
“But lying about it is emotional cheating,” you throw at him, the accusing finger back on display. “You lied like it was nothing, and you probably wouldn’t have said anything about it if I didn’t find out on my own.”
“Heryung told you?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me, Jungkook. I’m going home.”
“Stop!” he yells as you turn the door knob, only to find it locked. “Please stop. I’m in love with you, you can’t just leave like that.”
His words take your heart out of your chest, throw it on the floor only to stomp on it repeatedly until it’s a disgusting mess of jam.
“You should have thought about that before lying,” you say, your voice lower this time, and you unlock the door before looking at him one last time. “You really should have thought about it before lying.”
“Y/n, please,” he says, his voice breaking as tears roll on his cheeks.
It gathers tears in your eyes, too, so you turn around, stepping out into the cold November night. The door closes behind you, sounding like the final nail in a coffin, and you feel like you’ve been dipped in acid. Your entire body hurts with the betrayal and heartbreak, and you angrily blink the tears away, refusing to cry for Jungkook.
Not after he lied to you like this.
The street is empty, save for the moon up in the sky, and you walk down towards the boulevard, looking over your shoulder at Jungkook’s house, expecting him to come running out after you, but the door remains shut.
It hurts so bad you turn left, needing to be home as quick as possible before you collapse. Because you will. You know you will – the tears are an impending doom of the collapse that awaits you the second the heartbreak really does fully settle in. So you turn left, heading towards the alley you walked down with Jungkook once, the moon thankfully guiding your path.
And as you walk, you can’t help but doubt everything Jungkook ever told you. It turns the memories from Jeju into a rotten mess, and you clench your teeth so hard it hurts.
I’m in love with you.
Hours ago, those words would have been the most beautiful revelation in this world, but now they just burn and ache and break, and you wish he had kept it to himself instead of putting that weight on your shoulders.
Because why the fuck did he lie to you if he is truly in love with you? To see his ex out of all things…
You reach the alley that cuts through the neighbourhood. It’s dark, like it always is but even more so at night, and you can almost hear Jungkook’s voice telling you it’s not safe. But his voice is the last thing you want to hear, so you ignore it, turning into the alley. You don’t slow down as it grows darker – there isn’t really any light but the light of the moon that’s following you home up in the sky, but even then the full moon barely reaches the ground here.
It’s creepy. Even during the day, this alley has always been creepy to you, and you feel adrenaline slowly surging into your bloodstream, inconveniently erasing the anger you’ve been feeling at Jungkook’s words. Instead, it’s replaced by the primal fear of being looked at right now, and you look over your shoulder.
There’s no one behind you, yet you accelerate, wanting to be out of the alley as soon as you possibly can. Your throat dries out, your heart picking up its pace in your chest, and you hear it hammering inside your ribcage as you reach the bend in the alley.
Your heart almost stops entirely as two girls are standing just right there, and you stop in your tracks right before bumping into one of them. They eye you up and down, exchanging a look that makes cold sweat break out on every inch of your skin, and you immediately open your purse, trying to reach for your phone.
“Sorry,” you tell the girls as you try to pass between them, but one of them steps right in front of you.
You look at her, cocking an eyebrow, hand still fumbling in your purse for your phone. You can feel your Airpod case, your keys and your lip stain, but your phone isn’t there.
Why is your phone not there?
“Are you Jungkook’s girlfriend?” the girl that stepped in front of you says.
Your gaze widens, and you let out a small laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Our friend says you just left his house.”
A ball of lead is forming at the bottom of your stomach, and it grows so heavy you feel like you can’t breathe right.
“Do I know you?” you ask, and you give up your search for your phone – it’s still on Jungkook’s couch, after all – holding onto your purse like it might be a weapon instead.
It feels silly, but the way the girls are looking at you makes the hair rise all over your body, and you just want to get out.
The girl to your left laughs, pushing up the wall against which she was leaning. She’s smoking a cigarette – the smell of it is clouding the air surrounding you – and she throws it on the floor, stepping on it with the heel of a boot.
She doesn’t look much older than twenty. The one in front of you seems older, and she has a predatory gleam in her eyes that makes you take a step back.
“Don’t be afraid,” she says, and just like that, you know that you have to be very, very afraid.
“I’m just trying to go home,” you say, voice shaking slightly, and you turn on your heel, heading back the way you came from.
You make it three steps after the bend in the alley before you notice a man and another woman coming your way.
“We finally got her,” the man says in Korean, and you glance over your shoulder to see the two girls have followed you.
“She’s scared,” the first girl lets out.
They laugh. They all laugh, and you’re hit with the realization that they have to be some of the sasaengs that keep trying to get into Jungkook's house.
“Who are you?” you ask.
“And she speaks English? Not surprised he’s fucking ditching us for a foreign girl.”
You gulp as the four of them walk closer to you. There’s no way out – the walls are way too high on each side for you to dream of climbing them, and you know they won’t let you pass even if you ask. There’s something in the way they’re eyeing you that makes you feel like a mouse in the talons of an eagle, and you raise your hands.
“Hey, I’m not looking for any trouble,” you say.
You can’t even call the police. There’s nothing you can do, and you look behind the man and woman in front of you, hoping to see someone else coming your way. Maybe Jungkook, finally running out after you. But it’s late, and it’s a residential neighbourhood, and you really shouldn’t have come in here at this hour.
“Leave me alone.” You’d hoped to sound threatening, but it only makes the guy laugh, and then everything happens all at once.
You make to scream, but the girl behind you wraps her hand on your mouth, pulling you back and making you stumble. The man is on you in an instant, and his fist collides on the side of your face so hard you see stars, your knees giving out under you. You drop your purse, and you try to raise a hand only for the girl to pull your arm in your back.
“We should film this,” one of the other girls says. “That’s going to teach him that he shouldn’t just date any fucking slut.”
You bite. It’s all you can think to do in the panic and grogginess that are battling inside your mind, and she lets you go long enough that you can scream.
One shrill sound that echoes on the walls of the alley, but that dies the second the man punches you in the stomach. The air goes out of your lungs as you fold in two, and you swear you heard something crack. But you don’t have time to think.
You’re thrown on the ground, and then they’re kicking at you. All you can think to do is protect your head, and tears roll on your cheeks as you let out muffled yelps of pain. You don’t know how long it is before someone’s pulling your head back by your hair, forcing you up in a sitting position. You try to get their hand off your hair, weakly punching at the air above you, but they’re laughing at you.
They’re all laughing at you, and you’re crying. You’ve been crying, and all you manage to do is grab ahold of the fingers in your hair. Your scalp is burning from how hard they’re pulling on it, but you immediately stop moving when you feel something cold on your throat.
“She deserves to fucking die.”
It’s the guy speaking, and you open your eyes to see him bending down in front of you. He’s got a knife in his hand, and the tip of it is pressing on your throat.
You’re going to die. You are going to die, and all you can think to do is say, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
It must have enabled him. Because he laughs, slapping you. “You’re not.”
“Okay, I think it’s enough,” one of the girls says, panic in her voice.
You look up to see the youngest one looking down at you, and the last member of their group is holding onto her arm. “Just let him do what we paid him to do,” the one holding her says.
“We said we’d scare her.”
“She pissed herself, we got her pretty good.”
It occurs to you that you might have. That you’re too dizzy and terrified to compute that your pants are indeed wet, and that something warm is also running down your temple.
“She’s even bleeding,” the man says, and he brushes his fingers on the side of your face.
You’re shaking. You’re shaking like a leaf in the wind and all you want to do is fall asleep and never wake up.
This has to be a nightmare. But everything is hurting, and you’re keenly aware that it isn’t a nightmare. Suddenly, he pressure on your scalp suddenly disappears, and you fall on the ground again, rolling into a fetal position.
You hear screams. You hear screams and something sharp digs in your side twice before they’re running away, and you’re sobbing. You’re sobbing and your hand is red when you touch your side.
You’re bleeding.
Why the fuck did you leave your phone at Jungkook’s place?
They’re gone. They left, and you’re bleeding.
Did they run because he stabbed you?
You take a deep breath, and it hurts so much you choke.
You choke, but hands find your shoulders and pull you up. You cry in pain, shielding your face, but it’s a familiar voice this time.
“Y/n.”
You sob and choke and shake.
“Y/n, look at me.”
You can’t. Everything hurts.
“Please.” His voice breaks. “Y/n, holy fucking shit.”
He gently rests you down on the floor, and then he’s speaking quick Korean on the phone.
“Stay with me,” he tells you a few seconds later, but it also feels like an eternity later.
Time is moving slow and quick, all at once.
“Jungkook,” you choke out. You’re lying on your back, and his doe eyes are so wide you see white all around his irises. “What are you doing here?”
“I called the police,” he says, and you think he’s crying, like he was crying at his house. “Just stay with me.”
He has his hand on your side now. You don’t even know when he put it there, when yours fell away from the wounds.
“But what about Sara?”
You don’t know why you think of her right now. Why you become so tired at the same time, like you’ve just run four marathons back to back.
“Stay with me.”
Jungkook is pretty. You’ve always been aware of it, but with the moon creating a halo behind his head, he looks like an angel. You raise your hand, and you touch his cheek. It stains red, and your hand falls back on the ground. You don’t even feel it hit the concrete.
You see home. Your home country, your family. Growing up with your siblings. You see a night sky over the sea in Jeju, words whispered against your skin. You’re so tired, and you can’t hold on much longer.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Jungkook says.
You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they flutter open at the sound of his voice. He smiles at you, and tears run down his cheeks. You want to tell him you’re okay, you’re not mad anymore, but no sound comes out when your mouth opens.
You pass out on your next exhale.
*****
Jungkook sees the moment the light goes out in your eyes. Sees the moment you lose consciousness, and alarms ring so loud in the distance that he startles. He says your name, over and over again, but you don’t come back. Blood still spills from the wounds on your side, and he can’t even tell if you’re alive anymore.
He should have never gone to see Sara. Fucking hell,
He’d kill her right now, but her cancer might just take care of that for him.
“Y/n, please come back to me,” he cries as he gently pats your cheek, only to leave blood on it.
He didn’t even realize his two hands were covered in blood.
“Fuck, Y/n.” He’s been crying, but your lack of response makes him break, and he shatters like glass hit by a baseball bat.
You’re dying. Hell, you might be dead. If he had run out after you faster, he would have been able to protect you. Would have told you to come back so you can talk. Would have convinced you somehow, even though you seemed so disgusted with him before you left.
He doesn’t quite know when the paramedics reach your side. When they pull him away from you, and he resists, refusing to let you out of his sight. He’s screaming, panicking. He might even have punched someone. But he can’t see you anymore, and there’s an animalistic fear in him at the thought that this might be the last time he ever sees you.
“I need you to calm down,” a police officer says, breaking through his panic. “Just calm down.”
“Let me stay with her.” Jungkook cries, and the police officer pulls him in a hug.
“We’ll drive you to the hospital.”
“No.” Jungkook pushes him away. “Where is she?”
“They’re going to take her to the hospital.”
“I want to be with her,” Jungkook says, and he’s almost screaming.
A lot of people are watching him – paramedics, police officers, there are even people looking through the windows of their houses where lights have been turned on since he found you lying in a pool of your own blood.
“Let him come,” one of the paramedics says.
Jungkook almost falls in her arms, and she leads him to the ambulance. You’re lying there, and you’re so pale, and Jungkook just stares at you.
Your heart is beating. At least that’s what they say, and Jungkook can’t even fucking blink.
Everything passes in a blur. The ambulance ride. The hospital, with its white walls and pale blue floors. There are neon lights, and then a doctor calmly tells Jungkook that he has to let go of your hand. He can’t – your fingers are cold under his touch, and he’ll punch whoever tries to take you away from him.
“He’s under shock,” someone is saying.
“He might need calming meds.”
“Please, sir,” the doctor says. “We’ll bring her right back to you.”
Dead or alive.
Dead, or fucking alive?
They manage to get him to let go of you.
Jungkook watches them as they push your stretcher away, and then you disappear behind double doors.
And he dies with you.
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☆☆☆☆☆
........ yeah huh. my most sincere apologies. you're free to scream at me, i deserve it
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter has mature content)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: cursing, alcohol, sasaengs, sara, a side character being diagnosed with cancer, cigarettes, panic attack, explicit content: jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, clit play (slaps), unprotected sex (wrap it if you tap it), creampie. Different kind of explicit content: physical assault, knife, blood.
☆word count: 12.9k
☆a/n: hope you guys enjoy this new chapter <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Sunday, October 26th
Jungkook is tired. Exhausted, even, and he wishes they didn’t have concerts back to back like they’ve had the last few weekends.
Three concerts one after the other is too much, he reckons. But at least, the streak is done, and they have until next Thursday before the next concert, though they’ll have to travel to a whole other country for that one.
To be fair, Vancouver isn’t too far from Seattle, but still.
Jungkook looks towards Taehyung, who’s typing away on his phone while the other members are slowly taking off the tour outfits to put on their regular clothes again. Taehyung’s smiling, most likely texting Jennie, and Jungkook wonders if you’re busy right now. It’s a little past 11 pm here, which means it should be…
His brain fails to do the maths, and Jungkook pulls his phone out to go look at the international clocks. It should be 4 pm in Seoul, according to the app, which means you’re probably in the meeting for the publishing of your book. Indeed, it’ll be out in two weeks, with a book release at midnight in Seoul, where Jennie, Mingyu, Lisa and probably even Rosé will be in attendance.
You said your agent believed it to be the best way to promote the book, and to have all eyes on it right from the start. Jungkook agrees that it’s a good idea, and he wishes he could be there to support you…
But he’ll be getting ready for a concert in the evening in yet another city. Actually, he’ll probably still be asleep then, considering the time difference.
He’s been missing you a lot. Despite frequent FaceTime calls and almost constant texting, when you’re awake, he feels like he left his heart in your hands that Sunday in August when they first had to leave for the South American leg of the tour. They visited multiple countries there, performing in Sao Paulo, Lima, Buenos Aires, Bogota and even Santiago. Each stop had more than one concert, and then they headed up to Mexico City before starting with a few shows in New York.
And now Seattle, and soon Vancouver. And after that, they’ll be going back down the West Coast.
Jungkook sighs, exhaustion swiftly pushing through him. He feels a little dizzy, and so he sits down, heading to his text messages with you.
[7:07 pm] You: good luck for the concert tonight
[7:08 pm] You: you’re gonna fuck shit up
Your messages made him smile earlier, and they still do as he rereads, imagining you saying it out loud with that twinkle in your eyes he’s been chasing in the night sky whenever the sun is down.
He hasn’t looked at the stars the same since the trip to Jeju. They remind him of you, and he’s taken a liking to stargazing each night, even though the city lights rarely let him see the stars like he saw them with you. They were infinite that night, with the Milky Way striking across the sky.
He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to see anything tonight. It was cloudy earlier, before they got to the arena, but the clouds were supposed to scatter around midnight…
Hopefully.
[11:13 pm] Jungkook: it was a good concert but oof i’m glad we’re done with seattle
He presses send, watching the message deliver on your message thread. He doubts you’ll reply right away, so he shoves his phone in the pocket of his pants, yawning as he glances around to see that they’re almost all ready to go.
Everyone is in different levels of exhaustion, it seems, with only Jimin brimming with energy as he had the brilliant idea to chug an energy drink before the encore. He’s currently yapping to Hoseok about something Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to, and Hoseok is replying with short one-worded answers, though it doesn’t deter Jimin.
Nothing ever really does. Jungkook envies that of his friend – talking has always been easy for Jimin, whereas Jungkook’s always been a little more on the introverted side. It almost cost him you at the beginning of your relationship, after all.
He blushes. Relationship is a big word. You’ve never really put a label on what it is between you and him, but Jungkook likes to tell himself that you’re his girlfriend. All the members act as if you are, too, so it’s been easy for him.
He wonders if you see him as your boyfriend. Or if the distance keeps you from imagining him as such. It hurts, his heart straining in his chest, and he wishes he could be by your side, if only for a few hours.
He’d ask you to be his girlfriend instead of just assuming you are. He’s thought about doing it over FaceTime, but it feels way too lame compared to the intensity of what he feels for you. And despite the distance, his feelings for you have just kept on growing since the end of August, only strengthening with every day that passes.
He believes you feel the same, if only because you always struggle with hanging up every time you FaceTime, telling him you need to see him for just a little longer. He never minds it, even though it steals some precious minutes of rest from him.
Who needs sleep when he can spend time with you instead?
“Let’s go,” Namjoon says to no one in particular, though Jungkook knows his words are aimed at the group of them.
Indeed, they all file out of the dressing room, heading to the two cars that’ll drive them back to the hotel. Jungkook climbs into the one with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin, the two latter deciding to go grab a beer at a local bar while Namjoon peers down at his phone in his hands.
He’s been talking with his ex these last few days, the one he was with during the summer. They didn’t last long, but it seems the feelings lingered on her side, because she reached out to him first. She was the one to end things, though, so Jungkook feels wary for his friend, but he hasn’t said anything.
With his history with Sara, it would probably be out of place for him to say anything. Because he never listened to Namjoon’s advice, no matter how many times Namjoon told him to break up with Sara and block her so that she doesn’t come back.
He still hasn’t blocked her, though he hasn’t replied to any of the messages she’s sent over the last few months. She doesn’t deserve his attention anymore, or at least he likes to tell himself that.
He’s too busy thinking about you anyway. Talking to you, too. There’s no room for Sara in his life when he’s with you.
The car reaches the hotel, parking out front. There are fans waiting outside, and Jungkook shuts his eyes in annoyance, though he knows it’s not as bad as those that come to his house.
There were two break-in attempts this last month, though the police was quick to intervene. Both people ended up doing some jail time, and they have yet to show up on the cameras again.
Hell, one of them was even deported to another country with a stain on their passport that blocks them from ever returning to South Korea.
Jungkook shakes the thoughts away – they’re too heavy, and he doesn’t have the energy for that right now. Instead, he waits for the manager to give them the go to exit the car, and he plasters a smile on his lips when he finally does get out, waving at the fans.
They scream at the sight of him and the other members, and Jungkook could kiss Taehyung on the forehead when he shushes them with a finger on his mouth. They all instantly fall silent, which makes Jimin snort and say, “Damn, they’re well-trained.”
Hopefully, none of the fans speak Korean, because there’s a sarcastic lilt to Jimin’s words. One that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the members, including Jungkook, and they all chuckle before heading in, wishing the fans good night.
Before he gets in, Jungkook makes sure to look up – there’s a break in the clouds, and he sees a lone star shining up above in all its beauty. He reckons it might be Jupiter, but he’ll have to make sure with his starmap app later.
For now, he focuses on heading to his hotel room to take a shower as he waits for you to get out of your meeting so that you can FaceTime before he goes to bed. It’s well past midnight when you finally text him to call, and he’s already half asleep in bed when he presses on the icon at the top of the conversation, the front camera turning on to reveal the dark circles under his eyes along with his tousled hair.
He looks even more exhausted than he feels, and he winces at the sight, trying to fix his hair quickly as the call connects.
“Hey,” you greet him the second you come into view.
You’re sitting at a coffeeshop from the looks of it, having clearly called the second you left the library where the book release will be. You’re sipping an iced americano, and you look so beautiful Jungkook thinks he might burst out crying.
Do you miss him as much as he misses you?
“Hey,” he echoes, wetting his lip. “How did the meeting go?”
You smile, glancing to the side as someone walks past you with a tray in hand. “It went really well. They’ll be able to sell alcohol.”
You’d been worried about that, as you claimed it’s one of the most fun parts of midnight releases. Especially with the crowd that’s expected since a bunch of celebrities will be in attendance.
“That’s amazing,” Jungkook says. “You must be relieved.”
You nod, your eyebrows raising over your eyes. “You have no clue. But what about you, how was the concert?”
“Same old,” Jungkook replies with a chuckle. “At this point, I think I could do the concert asleep.”
You laugh, the crystalline sound carrying so well through the phone Jungkook feels like you’re right here with him for a few seconds. His heart reaches for you, thinking it’ll find you… only to be met with a void that sounds like you.
He didn’t even know it was physically possible to miss someone this much.
“You probably could,” you agree, and then your features grow more serious. “You actually look exhausted.”
He sighs, rolling on his back as he holds the phone over his face. “Yeah, I am.” You look sad at his words, and he quickly adds, “But we have four days off until the next concert, so I’ll be able to rest a bunch.”
“Good.” You nod, as if to put emphasis on your word. “Really good. They shouldn’t overwork you guys like this.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Honestly, most of the time, it isn’t too bad. I’ve just been having trouble sleeping at this hotel, and it was three days of concerts straight.”
“Inhumane!” you let out, which only makes him laugh again.
“I’ll make sure you’re on the tour planning committee next time so we can avoid this.”
You smile. It’s infinitely soft, and Jungkook wishes he could reach through the screen to trace the curve of your lips with a finger.
“I’ll make sure all concerts are in Seoul,” you say with a nod. “Or wherever I’ll be in the world by then.”
“Here, probably.”
You snort. “I did not grow up in the West.” You tilt your head to the side, growing pensive. “I could probably easily follow if it was all in the US, though…”
That’s something Jungkook realized weeks ago, one night he couldn’t sleep and he just ended up staring at the ceiling. As a writer, you’re not confined to one country to be able to work. You could write from anywhere in the world. If it weren’t for the fact you’re releasing your book in Seoul and have to do some promotion for it there, he would have suggested that you join on part of the tour.
But it feels like a lot to ask. Even Minha got too tired and decided to go back to Korea for a few weeks before coming back some time in November. At least that was the plan the last time he talked to Seokjin about it, and Jungkook genuinely hopes she’ll come back.
Seokjin has been a grumpy pain in the ass since she left.
“You could,” Jungkook says as he pulls on his piercings. “And then you could be in Seoul with me when the tour finishes.”
“That’d be amazing.”
Jungkook agrees. To be with you, back home… with nowhere to go and nothing to do. He’d take his damn time with you.
The thought immediately sends a bolt of lust down his spine, and it shoots forward to his dick.
“I miss you,” he says. He wets his lips, shuts his eyes for a few seconds to keep the arousal at bay – you’re in public after all. “I wish I could be with you right now.”
“Oh, Jungkook,” you let out, and he opens his eyes to see a pout on your lips, your gaze growing sad, heavier. “I miss you too.”
“Just want to kiss you.” Jungkook sighs, and he rolls on his side. “Really fucking wanna kiss you, actually.”
Your cheeks dust with pink. “Is that all you want to do?”
The question makes his heartbeat skyrockets, and Jungkook shuts his eyes with a small chuckle. “Don’t do this to me.”
You laugh, mischief in every word you say next, so low he barely hears them. “I really wanna be able to touch you.”
“Yeah?” he lets out as his dick hardens at your words.
You look around, bringing the phone closer to yourself. “Kinda want to ride you, too.”
Fuck.
He can picture it. You on top of him, your breasts bouncing as he jackhammers his hips into yours, the way you scream his name when you come…
You nod your head. “It’d be better than your hand, no?”
You’re insanity personified. Or maybe that’s him. Slowly going insane for a woman on the other side of the world.
He says your name like a warning. “People are going to hear you.”
You laugh, shrugging your shoulders. “Alright then, I’ll stop.”
“Are you far from home?” Jungkook asks, his hand going down his body as he tries to readjust himself in his boxers.
“Why?” you ask innocently.
“You know exactly why.” His voice is low, husky, and he wonders if you can hear the urgency in his tone.
He needs you so bad. Misses you even more and he is truly, fully, going insane with every moment spent away from you.
“Well, I’m meeting with Mingyu soon.”
It’s like someone threw a bucket of cold water at him, and the arousal slips out of Jungkook as if it was never there to begin with.
You’re friends with Mingyu. Obviously a lot closer to Jennie, but you’ve been hanging out with Mingyu lately, hitting the gym with him and Jennie whenever she can. But it hasn’t been too often lately, because she’s been out of the city to film a movie that’ll release next year.
And Jungkook loves Mingyu. They’re best friends after all. But Mingyu is attractive, and a flirt, and has mentioned he finds you attractive before, and…
Jungkook stops the train of thoughts before it can spiral any further.
“Gym sesh?” he asks.
You nod. “And then dinner with Hyunseok and his boyfriend.”
The jealousy dissipates at the knowledge you won’t spend too long with Mingyu, but Jungkook still wishes it could be him instead.
You’ve never worked out together before despite the multiple times you hung out at his house. The only time you ever were in his gym together is that night he ended up fingering you before you ran away.
“Where are you guys going?” he asks.
“The restaurant you recommended in Seongsu.”
You say the words with sadness etched around your eyes. Jungkook frowns at the sight, wishing he could take you in his arms.
“You okay?”
“I wish we were going together,” you admit. “I… I really miss you a lot too.”
A lump forms in Jungkook’s throat, and he gulps around it. But then…
They have five days off between the San Francisco concert and then the following one. Maybe he could fly home for a time…
He sits up in bed, eyes going wide. “I’ll come.”
“What?” you let out.
He laughs, like he should have figured it out before. “I’ll come home in two weeks. I have five days off, I can easily fly in and spend them with you.”
“Don’t say that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook’s excitement slowly dwindles to nothing. “Why?”
“Don’t make promises you can’t hold.”
He sucks on his piercings. “But I can,” he insists. “I’ll book flights with the manager. I bet some of the other members would also love to go home for a little.”
“But you’re already exhausted,” you point out, though Jungkook sees the spark of hope as it ignites in your eyes, an echo of the one in his, he’s pretty sure.
“Who cares?” he lets out. “I’ll sleep on the flight to Incheon, and then I’ll sleep with you in my arms.”
“You’ll snore in my ears all night.”
You’re smiling. You’re smiling and it’s like the light at the end of the tunnel. Jungkook runs towards it, dives in it.
“I will, and you’ll love it,” he jokes.
The smile stretches even wider, turning into a full-blown grin. “I will.”
Jungkook sends a message to the group chat, asking who wants to go with him, and then returns to the call with you. “I’ll see you soon.”
It’s like he’s suddenly powered by a nuclear reactor, and he feels like getting up to jump around like a little kid. He keeps it in though, his heart galloping in his chest instead, and he realizes his gaze is wet as a tear slips free, a bearer of so much joy he doesn’t even bother wiping it away.
You look just as happy. Your eyes shining with unshed tears too, your grin still just as wide. You laugh, that same crystalline sound wrapping around Jungkook like a warm blanket. It doesn’t hurt like before, just fills him with far too much happiness for his heart to handle.
“I can’t wait,” he says. “We’ll cuddle and work out and I’ll cook some food for you.”
“Oh, your food,” you let out. “I fucking miss your food.”
His lips curve upwards. “I’ll cook you breakfast and lunch and dinner, and as many snacks as you want.”
“I’ll get fat.”
“More of you to love,” he says, and then his gaze widens at his choice of words.
Love is a big word you have yet to say to each other, sort of, and Jungkook does not want to say it through the phone for the first time. Not when he whispered on your skin that he was falling in love with you the last time he saw you.
But he’s not falling anymore. Things are more than clear now.
Your eyes widen too, and you let out a small giggle. “Of course, of course.”
Jungkook’s phone buzzes in his hand with an upcoming message from Hoseok.
[1:04 am] Hoseok: heryung’s home those dates, i’m fucking in
“Hobi is coming too,” Jungkook says.
He receives a message from Seokjin and Namjoon at the same time, both of them saying they want to come as well.
“Jin and Namjoon too,” he adds a second later.
“Taehyung?” you ask, probably thinking about Jennie.
“He hasn’t replied yet, but I’m sure he’ll come.”
“Good,” you let out. And then you chuckle, eyes falling to your coffee. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”
He nods. “Right after your book release.”
You laugh again, slightly shaking your head like you can’t believe it. “I can’t fucking wait.”
“Me neither.”
And it’s true. The two next weeks are going to be hell. If only because Jungkook knows time will feel eternal, inching forward at a snail pace. But even if time stretches indefinitely…
You’ll still be there at the end of those two weeks. And there’s nothing in this world that matters more than that.
Monday, November 10th
Your steps are light today. There’s a bounce to them as if you’re a second way from flying away like a balloon in the wind. It makes sense, as you’ll finally see Jungkook after months of waiting to see him again. Not only that, but your book release was a success over the weekend, and you’ve made record sales since Saturday night.
Your dreams are paying off. In every aspect of your life, it seems. And you really feel so fucking light you might start floating soon. Hell, you’ll float to Jungkook’s place.
You’re on your way there. With a duffel bag with clothes for the next few days, because you’re not planning on leaving his house until he has to leave and go back to America.
He said he wouldn’t let you leave. That he’ll lock you in the basement if you try to, which only makes you laugh because his basement is the least threatening basement you’ve ever seen with the karaoke corner and the bar and the gym.
You’re walking down the boulevard, the wind surprisingly warm today. Or maybe the warmth comes from within, your heart inundating your bloodstream with it as it pumps your blood.
In just twenty minutes, you’ll finally be at Jungkook’s place. He offered to pick you up, but you had a meeting with Stella about the book release and you didn’t want him to wait around for you when he just landed from a twelve-hour flight. So you convinced him to go home, and you practically ran out the second the meeting finished.
Your bag has been ready since he told you he’d come two weeks ago.
So, you walk with a bounce in your step, unable to stop yourself from smiling as you turn into Jungkook’s street. You pass by two girls as you do so, and you smile at them, only to have them glare at you like you’re weird.
Right. People don’t usually smile at each other here. You can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re so damn happy to see him. And it doesn’t take you long to reach his house, the street outside blissfully empty. He’s given you the code to get in without having to knock, and you head to the door, pressing it in before pushing the door open.
And then you’re stepping in, kicking your shoes off as you inhale a whiff of food. He’s cooking, much like he said he would, and you drop your bag and purse by the door before running in.
He’s in the kitchen, his back turned to you as he’s at the stove, mixing something in a pan with a wooden spoon. He doesn’t hear you, and you just stand there for a few seconds, taking in the fact that he’s standing in the same room as you. That, in a second, he’ll turn around and see you, and you’ll be able to run up to him, to hold him in your arms like you’ve been craving since August.
“Hey,” you let out, unable to wait any longer.
He startles, looking over his shoulder, and the second he sees you standing there, Jungkook spins around, running up to you and picking you up in his arms. You wrap yours around his neck as he spins you around, and you giggle as the world spins and spins.
“You’re here,” he says like he can’t believe it, and then he’s laughing too. “You’re here.”
“I am,” you say, and he stops spinning to look up at you, and you crash your lips on his with enough force he stumbles back.
His lips are just as pillowy soft as you remember them to be, and they part on a small grunt that just makes you laugh again.
“You’re here,” he repeats against your mouth, like he can hardly believe it.
“I’ve always been here,” you say as you pull away to meet his eyes. And then you fall in the depths of them, in the emotions and the stars that look like nebulas as he stares at you with such intensity you feel like no one’s ever truly seen you before. “You’re the one that left.”
He lets out a small chuckle, and then he puts you down. He doesn’t let you get too far, his hands cupping your cheeks so he can pull you into another kiss, much more languid this time.
It’s a heavy kiss. It holds the weight of the months apart, of the distance and the numerous FaceTime calls where you just craved the other’s touch. It’s heavy with the feelings that slowly appeared between the two of you over the summer, strengthened by the time in Jeju. It’s heavy with the way those feelings kept growing despite being away from each other since then, too.
It’s heavy with the fact he alluded to loving you on that FaceTime call two weeks ago when he decided to come back. And fuck, as he pulls away from you to rest his forehead against yours, his thumbs swiping the side of your face, those three little words almost tumble free.
But then the smoke detector starts blaring, and you both startle, glancing at the stove.
“Shit,” Jungkook says, and he runs back to the stove, quickly lifting the pan from it. He grabs the wooden spoon, stirring the contents of the pan, and then looks at you. “Can you grab a towel and shake it at the smoke detector?”
You nod, gaze widening because why didn’t you think of it before, and then you’re jogging into the kitchen, pulling the drawer with the dish towels open to grab one. And then you’re shaking it at the ceiling as Jungkook cranks the fan up to its highest setting. It’s so loud you can barely hear yourself think, but soon enough, the smoke alarm stops, and Jungkook turns down the fan and opens a window instead.
“I think the oil burned a little,” he says, “and some of the chicken might not be edible anymore but…” He shrugs with a laugh. “We still have plenty enough for a snack.”
You smile, walking back behind the kitchen island, throwing the towel on the counter. “Let me see.”
He lowers the pan, and you gaze at its contents. Indeed, some of the vegetables and chicken have blackened, though most of it still looks perfectly fine.
“Yeah, we’re good,” you say with a nod. Right on cue, your stomach wails, and you both burst out laughing. “I’m starving.”
“Then let’s eat,” he says, grinning wide. “I’m famished too.”
You grab plates from the cupboard next to the stove fan, and you help Jungkook with splitting the charred food with what’s still good before you split that into two plates. Luckily enough, and because Jungkook always cooks for an army, you both have plenty enough food for a full meal, and you eat at the kitchen island, Jungkook sitting so close you feel his thigh against yours. You don’t mind – you’ve needed him close, far closer than that, for months.
You’re not going to push him away now that he’s finally here.
When the meal is done and the dishes are washed and left to dry, you return to the front door to grab your duffel bag, bringing it upstairs in Jungkook’s bedroom. He’s your shadow on the way there, right behind you the whole time like he can’t let you out of sight for more than a few seconds.
You put your duffel down by the bed, turning around with the intention of teasing Jungkook about it, but the intense look in his eyes stops the words from coming out, your smile slowly dying.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers as he takes a step toward you.
“Jungkook…”
You both start walking toward each other then, crashing in the middle of his bedroom. Jungkook’s lips are on yours quicker than you can even register it, and it clashes so hard you think your teeth might have slightly bashed together. But it doesn’t hurt, not when emotions pour out of his body and yours like a dam just broke between you and you’re losing yourselves in the dizzying dance of your lips on his, of your hands getting lost in his hair while his hold the back of your head and your waist.
The kiss deepens as Jungkook nudges your lips open with his tongue. He’s gentle about it, like he’s coaxing a wild animal into surrendering to him, and you’d laugh about it, say it’s not needed, if you weren’t so busy kissing him back with so much passion your heart races for a finish line you know it’ll find somewhere in his ribcage.
As your tongues twirl together, Jungkook backs you toward the bed, though he doesn’t push you down yet. He keeps on kissing you, keeps on holding you close like he can’t let go of you yet, even if it’s just for the few heartbeats it’d take for you to fall back on the bed. And you don’t want to let go either. Even as your lungs start burning from lack of oxygen, you just keep on moving your lips against the pillowy softness of his, his taste inebriating on your tongue.
You’ll never get enough of this man. There aren’t enough days in eternity for you to get bored of him, but you want every single one of them. You want to challenge fate, tell it to try and break you apart now that you’re together.
As if that’ll ever happen.
Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, his lips swollen by it, and you just stare at each other for a few seconds like you’re trying to make sure that this is really happening, that you’re finally reunited. And you smile, so wide, because this is as real as can be.
You’re finally here together.
You sit back on the bed, grabbing Jungkook’s hand to tug him down with you. He resists for a few seconds like he needs to look at you for just a little longer, and then he climbs on top of you, spreading your legs with a knee as you lie back down with him hovering over you. His mouth is on yours a heartbeat later, so soft and sweet you could cry.
“I don’t think I can take my time with you right now,” he whispers in a desperate plea when there’s a short break in the kiss so you can breathe.
You’re holding his cheeks, and you immediately pull him back down for another kiss that leads to you sucking on his lower lip, teasing it with your teeth.
“Don’t take your time,” you reply when you part.
It’s like you’ve unleashed a beast. Jungkook grunts, grinding into you to show you just how hard he already is, and then he straightens, taking off his shirt, hands flying to his belt after. He unbuckles it, takes it off in a swift motion, and throws it on the floor. It thumps on the hardwood floor, and you imagine it probably left a mark, but Jungkook does not seem like he gives a fuck as he gets up to quickly push his pants and underwear down.
He steps out of the pile of clothing in his naked glory save for a silver chain on his neck, and he fists his dick, stroking himself as he looks down at you. You sit up, hand reaching for him, and he guides himself to your mouth.
You know what he wants, and you want it just as bad as he does. You’ve been dying for a taste of him, so you lick at the bead of precum that prettily sits on his slit, and then take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around him. Jungkook grunts, head throwing back as you suck hard, and he grabs your cheeks, pulling out of your mouth.
“I’ll come if you suck me,” he says, and he chuckles breathlessly. “I want to be inside you.”
You’re not going to say no to that, not when he starts undressing you in loving gestures, peppering kisses on every inch of skin revealed until you’re just sitting there in your bra and underwear. He leaves those on, pushing you back on the bed until he’s on top of you again, his dick rubbing at your clothed pussy.
“Can already feel how wet you are,” he says as you let out a breathy sound.
Indeed, your panties are sticking to your wetness, even more so as Jungkook rubs himself on you. You spread your legs as wide open as you can as you chase more sensations, more friction, but Jungkook doesn’t give in right away, instead returning to your lips for another languid kiss. Your fingers are on his back, nails slightly digging in his skin, and Jungkook just keeps grinding into you, working you into a tight, uncomfortable knot that refuses to let go.
Not when there’s still fabric between you and him.
“Jungkook,” you whimper against his mouth.
He pulls away to look at your face. His pink lips are wet, glistening in the light coming in from the window, and your gaze catches on the mole under his mouth.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Jungkook asks.
“I want you inside of me,” you reply as you wrap your legs around his waist as if that’ll push him in.
“Want me to ruin you in that pretty thong?”
Indeed, you made sure to wear a nice lace set for him. Maybe that’s why he left the bra on.
“Please,” you beg.
He chuckles darkly, pecking your lips once. “Of course, baby. I got you.”
He kneels back between your legs, hands caressing your thighs a few times as he looks down at you, his eyes shining with untethered lust and passion for you. He glances down between your legs, one hand following to gently rub at your clit through the fabric, and you moan under his ministrations. He sucks in a breath at the sound, and then he pushes your panties to the side so he can directly touch you.
It’s so much sensation you almost close your legs, but he holds them open before grabbing his dick, stroking himself again as he watches your pussy. You whine, and he taps your clit, making you jerk against the bed in surprise, the sudden pain turning into burning pleasure.
“Oh, you like this,” he teases as if he didn’t already know.
He slaps your clit again, harder this time, and your eyes flutter close as you spread your legs open wider. And then, instead of using his hand, Jungkook taps his dick on you, before starting to rub himself between your folds, collecting your juices. It feels insanely good, and you fist the sheets, lifting your hips trying to get him to push in.
He doesn’t. He just keeps rubbing himself on you, your panties to the side, so much so you know your panties are ruined long before he finally decides to put you out of your misery, pushing his tip inside of you.
It stretches, burning slightly despite how wet you are, and you moan his name in a broken sound.
“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says as he slowly pulls out before starting to push in again, gaining another inch this time. “Way too fucking long.”
He keeps that infernal push and pull up until he manages to fully seat himself in you, and then he finally bends down again, finding your mouth for a sloppy kiss. His tongue is between your lips, his dick inside of you, and you’ve never felt so at home before.
Jungkook’s dick twitches inside of you once as you tighten your walls, and he grunts, pulling away from the kiss.
“I’m going to fuck you so rough,” he says, and it’s the only warning you get before he starts jackhammering inside of you, soon leaning back and pushing your legs up to his chest as he keeps fucking you.
His balls slap on your ass as he spears you wide open, and your mind swims with pleasure as he kisses the side of your leg, teeth nipping at your skin. You say his name as you look at the way the muscles of his abdomen contract with the effort from fucking you. He says your name back, reverence coating every syllable, and your heart swells so much for him, right as the knot he’s been working you into gets ready to snap.
He must have sensed it. Because he pulls out, flips you on your stomach, pushes one of your legs up and then slips inside of you again, reaching so much deeper this time. You hide your face in the sheets as you mewl at the sensation, and he’s unforgiving, fucking you fast and deep, so rough he slowly pushes you up the bed. You hold onto the sheets as if that’ll save you, but nothing can, not when he’s fucking you like this.
You come before he does. The knot inside of you snaps so hard and so suddenly you lose your vision for a moment, everything going white. He slows down then, coaxing the orgasm out of you in slow swipes of his hips, milking it out for so long you think you might be trembling when it finally starts fading.
Jungkook bends down then, leaning with his elbows on each side of your head. You turn your head to the side to catch sight of him, and he finds your mouth, kissing you sweetly as he keeps up with the slower rhythm he established when you were coming. It’s dizzying, mindnumbing, and you doubt you’re still fully in your body as he slowly starts to pick up the pace, chasing his own climax.
You reach back, cupping his cheek, and then you say, “Please come for me.”
It works. The words make Jungkook pick up the same relentless pace as earlier, and he fucks you hard into the mattress, his balls slapping against your clit now. It feels so good you think you might come again, even as his motions grow sloppy until he grunts out your name, slamming to the hilt as he comes deep within you, his dick twitching and twitching with every spurt of cum he paints you with.
Jungkook leans his forehead on the side of your face as you just breathe in sync for a time, and he interlaces your fingers on the bed. His weight on you is so comforting you feel your eyes watering. You smile, wide, mind buzzing with the remnants of your orgasm.
“I missed you too,” you say.
He chuckles, pecking your cheek. “I know, baby. I know.”
His dick, now softened, slips out of you, and his cum spills out, staining the sheets under you. But Jungkook doesn’t move, keeps caging your body with his like he’s protecting you from the harsh reality of the world outside. And you don’t want to move either. Don’t want to end this moment with him, but the small eternity eventually passes, Jungkook getting up and pulling you with him. You’re wobbly on your feet, but he holds you up, wraps his arms around you in a soulcrushing hug that you return without hesitation.
And then he tugs you to the shower, where you end up having sex again. And then you’re in his bed, sheets off in the washing machine, talking about the months apart. You end up making love again so many times as the day passes that you doubt you’ll be able to walk tomorrow, but you’re catching up for the months apart, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
It’s much later that night, when the sheets are back on the bed and you’re lying in Jungkook’s embrace, looking at each other, that Jungkook says, “I know I said I’d be with you for tomorrow, but I have a quick thing to do in the afternoon.”
You scan his features, his slightly chapped lips from all the kissing. “What do you have to do?”
There’s a short silence as he just keeps on looking at you, and then he replies, “Just a quick something with the company.”
You nod, eyes fluttering shut as you nestle yourself closer in his embrace. “No worries. I’ll stay here while you go.”
He kisses the top of your head, his loose grip around your waist tightening to hold you impossibly closer. “Perfect.”
You smile as he pecks your head again, and you let his warmth guide you to a dreamless sleep that smells like him.
Tuesday, November 11th
Seoul is cold today, the warmth from yesterday having faded away so thoroughly it seems like winter's holding the world in its clutches. Jungkook hides his face from the wind in the lapels of the jacket you forced him to wear, smiling as he remembers how you used them to tug him into a kiss that almost convinced him to not go. And as another gush of wind bites at his features, he reckons he should have been convinced.
He knows he agreed to meet up with Sara last week when she called him crying and he picked up half asleep not realizing it was her. But he doesn’t want to see her, not when he fell for you so, so hard.
But then again, he’s going to pick up roses on the way back, and he’ll officially ask you to be his girlfriend. He wants the label, wants you to call him his boyfriend to everyone you know. He wants more than just the rumors about you and him that have slowly dwindled down over the months he spent away.
Hell, he wants to scream at the world that he’s in love with you. And he reckons some dirty, ugly part of himself just wants to rub it into Sara’s face after the way she’s treated him in the past.
Jungkook finally reaches the coffeeshop Sara asked to meet up at, and he walks in, the warmth a welcome reprieve from the world outside. He heads to the counter to order a hot cup of coffee, and he’s thankful that the person behind the register is an elderly woman. She just smiles at him with a nod of her head, clearly not recognizing him, and then she makes his cup of coffee, handing it to him.
He bows and thanks her before taking it, and then he looks around, wondering where Sara might be. The coffeeshop is tiny and completely empty, but then he spies a staircase in the corner, and he glances at the lady behind the counter.
“Is there someone upstairs?” he asks.
She nods. “A young lady arrived earlier and went upstairs,” she informs him.
He thanks the lady again, and then he heads in that direction, careful to not spill the hot liquid on himself. He climbs upstairs, indeed finding Sara sitting at a table overlooking the street.
Save for her, the floor is empty too, and Jungkook reckons her choice of meeting point was commendable. No one will know they were here together at all.
“Hey,” he says as he nears the table where she’s sat, and Sara startles, looking at him.
The dark circles around her eyes are witnesses to what she’s been going through, and Jungkook stops her from getting up when she tries to.
“No need,” he says, putting his cup of coffee on the table before sitting across from her.
“I didn’t think you would actually come,” she says, her voice wavery like she’s about to cry.
He reckons his would too, if he were to be diagnosed with cancer.
“I said I would.”
She nods weakly, looking down at the smoothie in front of her, clearly sensing that he is closed off.
“Well, thank you,” she says.
He nods curtly, glancing at the steam wafting out of his cup of coffee, his gaze then trailing outside to see some snowflakes fluttering about.
“I just wanted…” she starts, falling silent. “To catch up, you know?”
He wets his lips, sighing as he looks at her again. “Like I said over the phone, I have someone in my life now,” he says. “I don’t really want to catch up.”
She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just staring at him unblinkingly. “Why are you here, then?”
Because you might be dying, Jungkook thinks, but he can’t bring himself to say it aloud.
“You said you wanted to apologize,” he reminds her instead, because she did mention that over the phone.
Her jaw clenches, a muscle ticking under the skin. “Can’t we catch up first?”
“I don’t really have much to say to you, Sara.”
Her eyebrows almost touch over her eyes as she frowns. “Aren’t you touring? Surely, you must have stories to tell about that.”
He widens his gaze, surprised at her audacity. “Sara, I told you I have someone in my life. She’s the one I want to tell my stories to, not you.”
It hurts her. The frown falls, replaced by a silver line slowly growing in her eyes. She blinks the tears away, looking out the window with a small, hurt chuckle.
“She’s that writer, isn’t she?”
So, Sara must have seen the rumors about you, then.
Jungkook nods. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
“You know, Seojoon broke up with me because he said I’m still in love with you,” Sara casually says, and Jungkook hates the way his heart strains in his chest like a reflex.
He didn’t even know Seojoon had broken up with her.
“I’m sorry,” he lets out, and he’s relieved he sounds a little bit genuine.
Because frankly, he doesn’t care that she still loves him. He hardly thinks it’s true.
She’s too good of a manipulator for it to be true.
“It’s…” she trails off, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s whatever.”
Jungkook purses his lips, but doesn’t find words to say in return. So he busies himself with taking a sip of his coffee, and it’s so hot it almost burns the skin off his tongue. He puts the cup back down, figuring he’s going to have to wait before drinking.
“Honestly, Jungkook, I really wished we could catch up like old times.”
He shuts his eyes at the sadness laced with her words. It’s so potent he almost tastes it on his tongue despite the burn left behind by the coffee.
“I get that,” he says, looking at her. “But what we had was extremely toxic. I don’t want to bring that back into my life.”
“So you’re calling me toxic?” she says.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You have to be aware that our relationship was toxic, Sara. I’m not saying you were.” Even though she definitely was. “I think it’s better left in the past.”
She takes a deep breath, and then draws a sip from the straw in her smoothie. It takes her a moment to speak again, but then she says, “Okay, then. It was toxic. I guess this whole…” she motions at herself, “thing has really just put things in perspective for me.”
Jungkook meets her gaze, but remains silent as he waits for her to keep going.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook.” She sighs. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through.”
He clenches his jaw, not expecting the words to hurt as much as they do. He thought it’d be liberating to hear it, but it just tastes bitter.
“But you also weren’t perfect,” she adds, and it explains the bitterness behind the words.
Because with Sara, nothing ever means what it’s supposed to mean. She always has an ulterior motive, and Jungkook really doesn’t understand why he agreed to meet up. As he sits in front of her, he realizes that he’s been over her for months now, and he likes it as it is.
Likes that she’s just a memory from the past. He’s sad she’s sick, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t want to walk down memory lane when it comes to her.
“Alright Sara,” he says. “Anything else you want to say before I leave?”
“You’re not drinking the coffee?” she asks, her eyes round with fear.
Jungkook glances at the cup, and it looks just as hot as it was earlier. “I’m not sure it was a good idea for us to meet up.”
She starts crying. And he doesn’t know how to react, the good part of him wanting to comfort her, but the more rational one remembering that she uses tears as a weapon all the time.
“I might die, JK,” she says. “I’m scared.”
He shuts his eyes again, because what the fuck is he supposed to say to that?
“You’ve been doing treatments, no?” he asks when he opens his eyes again.
She chuckles, but it’s entirely void of joy. And then she takes off the wig she’s wearing, throwing it on the table. “Yeah.”
Jungkook stares at the wig for a few seconds before looking up at her. She looks so sad like this, so vulnerable, that the good part of him wins.
“You still look good,” he reassures her.
“Thank you for acknowledging that a woman does not need hair to be attractive,” she says, using his compliment as an attack, as always.
He tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows like ‘Really?’.
“No, seriously,” she adds, and she wipes at her cheeks. “It’s something I keep telling myself every time I look at myself in the mirror.” She gulps and it’s loud enough for him to hear. “I don’t recognize myself anymore. Even with the wig on.”
“I’m sorry,” he lets out, voice barely above a whisper.
She shrugs. “It’s okay. I’ll kick cancer’s ass and grow my hair back.”
“You will.”
She smiles, so sad he looks outside again to see it doesn’t seem to be snowing anymore. “Thank you,” she lets out. And then she adds, with no regard to him, “And I’m really sorry for taking you for granted all these years. I thought I’d always have you by my side.”
He clenches his jaw, sucking on his piercings hard enough to hurt. “It is what it is,” he says after a few beats of silence. “I couldn’t keep being treated like that forever.”
She nods. “Fair. I really do apologize for everything, Jungkook.”
He meets her gaze, gives her a nod. “Thank you.”
He hears the clear scuffle of steps in the staircase, and his heart stops for a second at the thought of being seen with her. But then Heryung appears at the top of the stairs, and relief washes through him.
Only to be replaced by a wave of sick dread as she takes in the sight of him, gaze widening.
“What are you doing here?” she asks as Hoseok appears behind her.
Jungkook just looks between Heryung and Hoseok a few times before glancing at Sara. She’s looking down at the table like she’s guilty, and he realizes she planned this.
She wanted them to get caught. To be seen together. And for that reason and that reason only, Jungkook gets up from the table, his anger so sudden and potent he figures it best to leave and not say hurtful things to her.
“Nothing,” Jungkook says, and he walks away, not even glancing back.
He’s glad he didn’t take his coat off, so he doesn’t have to awkwardly put it back on before storming away. But despite trying to get away before something more can happen, Hoseok steps in his path, forcing him to stop.
“Does Y/n know you’re here?”
Jungkook frowns. “Hobi, let me leave.”
“I thought you were really into Y/n,” Hoseok adds despite the warning in Jungkook’s tone.
“I am, and I’m going back to her right now, alright?”
Hoseok frowns, but remains silent, stepping aside to let him pass. Jungkook doesn’t wait a second longer, and he quickly runs down the stairs before returning to the cold world outside.
He really shouldn’t have come.
*****
Jungkook’s been silent ever since he came back from the company. You think it might be because he had to call the police before being able to get into the house. You were napping, and so you didn’t hear, but he apparently caught two girls trying to come in when he arrived.
When are people going to get tired of this? It doesn’t make sense to you. As if Jungkook would be happy to see them walk into his house…
He called them sasaengs, but you think it’s more than that. It’s a clinical level of delusion that would need severe therapy and most likely meds to heal from. Because who in their right mind believes breaking into someone’s house will make them like you?
He made dinner when he came home, busying himself in the kitchen for nearly half an hour. You tried to engage in conversation, but he looked so out of it you ended up leaving him alone, though you did the dishes every time he was done with something, if only to keep yourself occupied.
Over dinner, he told you that the meeting at the company was a waste of time, and that he wishes he’d stayed home with you instead. You smiled, telling him you wish he stayed too, and he only then seemed to start relaxing. He still hasn’t been talkative, even as he made love to you on the couch in the living room, while a movie you did not bring yourself to care about played in the background. You then took a shower, made love again in his bed, and then went downstairs for a snack, which you ended up eating in the living room, with yet another movie playing in the background.
And Jungkook is now lying with his head on your chest, soft snores coming out of him at regular intervals while you scroll on your phone.
You receive a text message from Heryung, and you click on it, expecting her to update you about what you’ll do this weekend, as she suggested hanging out while she’s here.
To your surprise, her message is in fact not about meeting up at all, and you frown as you read.
[11:23 pm] Heryung: is everything okay with jk?
[11:23 pm] You: yes?
[11:24 pm] You: there were people at his house earlier but the police scared them off
[11:25 pm] Heryung: he just seemed rattled when we saw him earlier with sara
You stare at your phone, ice filling every inch of your body.
Jungkook was with Sara earlier?
[11:25 pm] You: wdym with sara
It takes a moment for Heryung to reply, and your heart is beating so incredibly fast by the time her message comes in that you feel dizzy.
[11:29 pm] Heryung: he was talking with her at a coffee shop earlier?
[11:30 pm] Heryung: didn’t he tell you?
No, he, as a matter of fact, did not tell you. In truth, he lied to you.
Jungkook fucking lied to you.
“Jungkook,” you let out as you put your phone down, trying to rouse him from his sleep. You push on him, and he grunts as his grip around you tightens. “Jungkook,” you repeat, your tone firmer this time.
“Mmh?” he hums.
“Jungkook, get the fuck up.”
The urgency in your tone must have woken him right up, because he sits up, throwing you a confused glance as he runs a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled.
“What?”
You’re disgusted, looking at him then. Because if he lied to you so easily about seeing Sara, didn’t he lie about the rest, too?
“What were you doing with your ex this afternoon?”
Your question does wake him right up. His gaze widens, fear filling the depth of his eyes, and he looks around for his phone, not finding it as it’s currently on the counter in the kitchen, where he left it to charge earlier.
“It was nothing,” he says, and then he must sense it sounds bad, because he adds, “I promise.”
“You said you were at the company.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you get up from the couch, heading to the kitchen. He follows behind you, trying to grab your arm, but you shake out of his grip.
“Don’t touch me right now.”
You would rather jump off a bridge than be touched by him right now.
“Sorry,” he says. “Y/n, she has cancer and she just wanted to talk.”
You laugh, a bitter taste coating your entire mouth. Because what the fuck do you mean he came home and made love to you twice without saying anything? No wonder he was so silent when he arrived.
“I don’t care,” you reply as you find your purse.
You’re wearing Jungkook’s sweater right now, the one he gave you last August, the one you were wearing when you got here. Which is a relief – you don’t have enough energy to go upstairs to grab your stuff right now.
You want out, and right now.
“She wanted to apologize,” he adds. “It really was nothing, and I shouldn’t have gone.”
You laugh again, shaking your head as you glance at him. “I really don’t care.”
You walk around him, heading towards the front door.
“Will you stop for a second so I can explain?” he says behind you.
You spin around, and he’s so close he almost bumps into you. You raise a finger, pointing at him accusingly. “You should have explained before going.”
“Well, with your reaction, I’m sure you would not have understood.”
The audacity of this man…
You spin on your heels again, heading towards the front door. Good thing you’re wearing sweatpants, and not the silky PJ shorts you brought in your duffel bag.
“Y/n, stop, I did not mean that,” he says behind you as you’re halfway through the living room, heading to the hall that leads to the front door. “She was shitty, like she always is, and I honestly just want to pretend it never happened.”
“Why the fuck did you go see her, then?” you ask.
“She has cancer,” he repeats. “She called crying and said she needed to talk to someone, and that she wanted to apologize.”
“It’s unfortunate for her that she’s sick, it really is,” you say, and you mean it. “But if you think that that’s the biggest problem, then I don’t have anything to do here anymore.”
“What’s the problem?” he asks, which only makes you laugh bitterly again.
A look over your shoulder tells you the laugh hurt him. He looks like you’ve slapped him across the face, and you really need to get out of this house before you actually do it.
“You lied, Jungkook. You lied like it was nothing.”
“I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of this,” he says, and his voice shakes like he’s about to cry. “I didn’t even want to see her.”
You turn around. He’s further away this time, having stopped at the start of the hall, of which you’re already almost all the way down.
“But you still went, and you lied about it,” you say. “You really believe I’ll trust a single word you say after that?”
He closes his eyes, cards his hand through his hair again. “Y/n, don’t blow this out of proportion, please. Let’s talk it out.”
“I do not want to talk it out with you,” you spit. “I don’t entertain cheaters.”
You resume your walk to the door, kicking off the slippers he got for you to put your shoes on instead.
“It’s freezing outside, surely you’re not going to walk home.”
You look over your shoulder. “I think I might punch you if you stop me.”
“Your things are upstairs,” he points out, and there’s terror in his voice. It’s shaking at the edges, and you reckon he seems to be shaking, too.
“Give them to Mingyu, he’ll bring them to me.”
You turn to grab the door knob.
“Y/n, stop,” Jungkook insists again. “I’m not a cheater. I didn’t cheat, we just talked.”
“But lying about it is emotional cheating,” you throw at him, the accusing finger back on display. “You lied like it was nothing, and you probably wouldn’t have said anything about it if I didn’t find out on my own.”
“Heryung told you?”
“It doesn’t matter who told me, Jungkook. I’m going home.”
“Stop!” he yells as you turn the door knob, only to find it locked. “Please stop. I’m in love with you, you can’t just leave like that.”
His words take your heart out of your chest, throw it on the floor only to stomp on it repeatedly until it’s a disgusting mess of jam.
“You should have thought about that before lying,” you say, your voice lower this time, and you unlock the door before looking at him one last time. “You really should have thought about it before lying.”
“Y/n, please,” he says, his voice breaking as tears roll on his cheeks.
It gathers tears in your eyes, too, so you turn around, stepping out into the cold November night. The door closes behind you, sounding like the final nail in a coffin, and you feel like you’ve been dipped in acid. Your entire body hurts with the betrayal and heartbreak, and you angrily blink the tears away, refusing to cry for Jungkook.
Not after he lied to you like this.
The street is empty, save for the moon up in the sky, and you walk down towards the boulevard, looking over your shoulder at Jungkook’s house, expecting him to come running out after you, but the door remains shut.
It hurts so bad you turn left, needing to be home as quick as possible before you collapse. Because you will. You know you will – the tears are an impending doom of the collapse that awaits you the second the heartbreak really does fully settle in. So you turn left, heading towards the alley you walked down with Jungkook once, the moon thankfully guiding your path.
And as you walk, you can’t help but doubt everything Jungkook ever told you. It turns the memories from Jeju into a rotten mess, and you clench your teeth so hard it hurts.
I’m in love with you.
Hours ago, those words would have been the most beautiful revelation in this world, but now they just burn and ache and break, and you wish he had kept it to himself instead of putting that weight on your shoulders.
Because why the fuck did he lie to you if he is truly in love with you? To see his ex out of all things…
You reach the alley that cuts through the neighbourhood. It’s dark, like it always is but even more so at night, and you can almost hear Jungkook’s voice telling you it’s not safe. But his voice is the last thing you want to hear, so you ignore it, turning into the alley. You don’t slow down as it grows darker – there isn’t really any light but the light of the moon that’s following you home up in the sky, but even then the full moon barely reaches the ground here.
It’s creepy. Even during the day, this alley has always been creepy to you, and you feel adrenaline slowly surging into your bloodstream, inconveniently erasing the anger you’ve been feeling at Jungkook’s words. Instead, it’s replaced by the primal fear of being looked at right now, and you look over your shoulder.
There’s no one behind you, yet you accelerate, wanting to be out of the alley as soon as you possibly can. Your throat dries out, your heart picking up its pace in your chest, and you hear it hammering inside your ribcage as you reach the bend in the alley.
Your heart almost stops entirely as two girls are standing just right there, and you stop in your tracks right before bumping into one of them. They eye you up and down, exchanging a look that makes cold sweat break out on every inch of your skin, and you immediately open your purse, trying to reach for your phone.
“Sorry,” you tell the girls as you try to pass between them, but one of them steps right in front of you.
You look at her, cocking an eyebrow, hand still fumbling in your purse for your phone. You can feel your Airpod case, your keys and your lip stain, but your phone isn’t there.
Why is your phone not there?
“Are you Jungkook’s girlfriend?” the girl that stepped in front of you says.
Your gaze widens, and you let out a small laugh. “Excuse me?”
“Our friend says you just left his house.”
A ball of lead is forming at the bottom of your stomach, and it grows so heavy you feel like you can’t breathe right.
“Do I know you?” you ask, and you give up your search for your phone – it’s still on Jungkook’s couch, after all – holding onto your purse like it might be a weapon instead.
It feels silly, but the way the girls are looking at you makes the hair rise all over your body, and you just want to get out.
The girl to your left laughs, pushing up the wall against which she was leaning. She’s smoking a cigarette – the smell of it is clouding the air surrounding you – and she throws it on the floor, stepping on it with the heel of a boot.
She doesn’t look much older than twenty. The one in front of you seems older, and she has a predatory gleam in her eyes that makes you take a step back.
“Don’t be afraid,” she says, and just like that, you know that you have to be very, very afraid.
“I’m just trying to go home,” you say, voice shaking slightly, and you turn on your heel, heading back the way you came from.
You make it three steps after the bend in the alley before you notice a man and another woman coming your way.
“We finally got her,” the man says in Korean, and you glance over your shoulder to see the two girls have followed you.
“She’s scared,” the first girl lets out.
They laugh. They all laugh, and you’re hit with the realization that they have to be some of the sasaengs that keep trying to get into Jungkook's house.
“Who are you?” you ask.
“And she speaks English? Not surprised he’s fucking ditching us for a foreign girl.”
You gulp as the four of them walk closer to you. There’s no way out – the walls are way too high on each side for you to dream of climbing them, and you know they won’t let you pass even if you ask. There’s something in the way they’re eyeing you that makes you feel like a mouse in the talons of an eagle, and you raise your hands.
“Hey, I’m not looking for any trouble,” you say.
You can’t even call the police. There’s nothing you can do, and you look behind the man and woman in front of you, hoping to see someone else coming your way. Maybe Jungkook, finally running out after you. But it’s late, and it’s a residential neighbourhood, and you really shouldn’t have come in here at this hour.
“Leave me alone.” You’d hoped to sound threatening, but it only makes the guy laugh, and then everything happens all at once.
You make to scream, but the girl behind you wraps her hand on your mouth, pulling you back and making you stumble. The man is on you in an instant, and his fist collides on the side of your face so hard you see stars, your knees giving out under you. You drop your purse, and you try to raise a hand only for the girl to pull your arm in your back.
“We should film this,” one of the other girls says. “That’s going to teach him that he shouldn’t just date any fucking slut.”
You bite. It’s all you can think to do in the panic and grogginess that are battling inside your mind, and she lets you go long enough that you can scream.
One shrill sound that echoes on the walls of the alley, but that dies the second the man punches you in the stomach. The air goes out of your lungs as you fold in two, and you swear you heard something crack. But you don’t have time to think.
You’re thrown on the ground, and then they’re kicking at you. All you can think to do is protect your head, and tears roll on your cheeks as you let out muffled yelps of pain. You don’t know how long it is before someone’s pulling your head back by your hair, forcing you up in a sitting position. You try to get their hand off your hair, weakly punching at the air above you, but they’re laughing at you.
They’re all laughing at you, and you’re crying. You’ve been crying, and all you manage to do is grab ahold of the fingers in your hair. Your scalp is burning from how hard they’re pulling on it, but you immediately stop moving when you feel something cold on your throat.
“She deserves to fucking die.”
It’s the guy speaking, and you open your eyes to see him bending down in front of you. He’s got a knife in his hand, and the tip of it is pressing on your throat.
You’re going to die. You are going to die, and all you can think to do is say, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
It must have enabled him. Because he laughs, slapping you. “You’re not.”
“Okay, I think it’s enough,” one of the girls says, panic in her voice.
You look up to see the youngest one looking down at you, and the last member of their group is holding onto her arm. “Just let him do what we paid him to do,” the one holding her says.
“We said we’d scare her.”
“She pissed herself, we got her pretty good.”
It occurs to you that you might have. That you’re too dizzy and terrified to compute that your pants are indeed wet, and that something warm is also running down your temple.
“She’s even bleeding,” the man says, and he brushes his fingers on the side of your face.
You’re shaking. You’re shaking like a leaf in the wind and all you want to do is fall asleep and never wake up.
This has to be a nightmare. But everything is hurting, and you’re keenly aware that it isn’t a nightmare. Suddenly, he pressure on your scalp suddenly disappears, and you fall on the ground again, rolling into a fetal position.
You hear screams. You hear screams and something sharp digs in your side twice before they’re running away, and you’re sobbing. You’re sobbing and your hand is red when you touch your side.
You’re bleeding.
Why the fuck did you leave your phone at Jungkook’s place?
They’re gone. They left, and you’re bleeding.
Did they run because he stabbed you?
You take a deep breath, and it hurts so much you choke.
You choke, but hands find your shoulders and pull you up. You cry in pain, shielding your face, but it’s a familiar voice this time.
“Y/n.”
You sob and choke and shake.
“Y/n, look at me.”
You can’t. Everything hurts.
“Please.” His voice breaks. “Y/n, holy fucking shit.”
He gently rests you down on the floor, and then he’s speaking quick Korean on the phone.
“Stay with me,” he tells you a few seconds later, but it also feels like an eternity later.
Time is moving slow and quick, all at once.
“Jungkook,” you choke out. You’re lying on your back, and his doe eyes are so wide you see white all around his irises. “What are you doing here?”
“I called the police,” he says, and you think he’s crying, like he was crying at his house. “Just stay with me.”
He has his hand on your side now. You don’t even know when he put it there, when yours fell away from the wounds.
“But what about Sara?”
You don’t know why you think of her right now. Why you become so tired at the same time, like you’ve just run four marathons back to back.
“Stay with me.”
Jungkook is pretty. You’ve always been aware of it, but with the moon creating a halo behind his head, he looks like an angel. You raise your hand, and you touch his cheek. It stains red, and your hand falls back on the ground. You don’t even feel it hit the concrete.
You see home. Your home country, your family. Growing up with your siblings. You see a night sky over the sea in Jeju, words whispered against your skin. You’re so tired, and you can’t hold on much longer.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Jungkook says.
You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they flutter open at the sound of his voice. He smiles at you, and tears run down his cheeks. You want to tell him you’re okay, you’re not mad anymore, but no sound comes out when your mouth opens.
You pass out on your next exhale.
*****
Jungkook sees the moment the light goes out in your eyes. Sees the moment you lose consciousness, and alarms ring so loud in the distance that he startles. He says your name, over and over again, but you don’t come back. Blood still spills from the wounds on your side, and he can’t even tell if you’re alive anymore.
He should have never gone to see Sara. Fucking hell,
He’d kill her right now, but her cancer might just take care of that for him.
“Y/n, please come back to me,” he cries as he gently pats your cheek, only to leave blood on it.
He didn’t even realize his two hands were covered in blood.
“Fuck, Y/n.” He’s been crying, but your lack of response makes him break, and he shatters like glass hit by a baseball bat.
You’re dying. Hell, you might be dead. If he had run out after you faster, he would have been able to protect you. Would have told you to come back so you can talk. Would have convinced you somehow, even though you seemed so disgusted with him before you left.
He doesn’t quite know when the paramedics reach your side. When they pull him away from you, and he resists, refusing to let you out of his sight. He’s screaming, panicking. He might even have punched someone. But he can’t see you anymore, and there’s an animalistic fear in him at the thought that this might be the last time he ever sees you.
“I need you to calm down,” a police officer says, breaking through his panic. “Just calm down.”
“Let me stay with her.” Jungkook cries, and the police officer pulls him in a hug.
“We’ll drive you to the hospital.”
“No.” Jungkook pushes him away. “Where is she?”
“They’re going to take her to the hospital.”
“I want to be with her,” Jungkook says, and he’s almost screaming.
A lot of people are watching him – paramedics, police officers, there are even people looking through the windows of their houses where lights have been turned on since he found you lying in a pool of your own blood.
“Let him come,” one of the paramedics says.
Jungkook almost falls in her arms, and she leads him to the ambulance. You’re lying there, and you’re so pale, and Jungkook just stares at you.
Your heart is beating. At least that’s what they say, and Jungkook can’t even fucking blink.
Everything passes in a blur. The ambulance ride. The hospital, with its white walls and pale blue floors. There are neon lights, and then a doctor calmly tells Jungkook that he has to let go of your hand. He can’t – your fingers are cold under his touch, and he’ll punch whoever tries to take you away from him.
“He’s under shock,” someone is saying.
“He might need calming meds.”
“Please, sir,” the doctor says. “We’ll bring her right back to you.”
Dead or alive.
Dead, or fucking alive?
They manage to get him to let go of you.
Jungkook watches them as they push your stretcher away, and then you disappear behind double doors.
And he dies with you.
Prev | Next
☆☆☆☆☆
........ yeah huh. my most sincere apologies. you're free to scream at me, i deserve it
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter has mature content)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: cursing, alcohol, mentions of jk's relationship with sara, a stressful conversation, honestly this one is a little sad, explicit content: unprotected sex (wrap it if you tap it), nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), praise, creampie
☆word count: 13.1k
☆a/n: this chapter is one of my favourites of the whole series and i hope you guys will love it just as much<3 thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Friday, August 29th
You’ve never been to Jeju island before. In truth, you haven’t seen much of the world yet, your horizons confined to the state you grew up in and the few trips you did out of state.
And these last months in Seoul, obviously. But you’ve never been somewhere like Jeju before, and you think you’re already in love with the island.
It’s quiet. Save for the sound of the wind in the leaves of the trees, and the waves crashing on the beach just a little further away. There are birds too, seagulls crying at the sky, but apart from that…
Apart from that, the world is quiet. You don’t think you noticed quite how loud Seoul can get before. Even on your trip back home, you were so caught up in the wedding and the stress from your meetings with the editor that you didn’t get to enjoy the quiet.
But here… Here, the quiet is all around you, like a hug from your mother you’ve missed far too much. It helps that you’re here with Jennie, and all the boys, too. Mostly, it helps that you’re here with Jungkook, who you’ve been falling for more with every day that passes.
Not that you’ve said anything. With him leaving for the start of his tour next week, you haven’t been able to tell him about the feelings in your chest. It’d be unwise – a young relationship surely can’t survive months apart, can it? So you’ve been enjoying the moments you get with him instead, few as they are. He’s been more busy every day, and though you’ve done your best to still hang out, the time together has been few and far between now.
Though you reckon it’s always been like this. You just weren’t as aware of it before.
Jungkook hasn’t mentioned anything. But you can tell he’s a little more guarded, his smile and laughs somewhat fewer, as if he always has something on his mind. You don’t blame him – touring must be a source of a lot of stress, even though it has to be exciting, too. At least you blame it on that.
You refuse to believe Jungkook is pulling away from you. Not when he still fucks you with all the stars of the sky shining in his eyes like you’re the center of the universe.
You blink out of your reverie as Jennie nudges you in the ribs. You glance at her, her sunglasses perched high on her head as you’re in the shadow of the trees right now. The boys are currently swimming in the pool, and Hoseok and his girlfriend have sneaked off to somewhere inside.
“You good?” Jennie asks.
You chuckle, trying to hide the fact that you are in fact growing anxious. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Jennie smirks. “Up late with Jungkook last night? she asks.
“I was not up late with Jungkook last night.”
In fact, Jungkook fell asleep the second his head touched the pillow last night, most likely being hit with the exhaustion of all the work he’s been doing, and with the exhaustion from travelling, too.
Even if you flew in a private jet. It was your first experience in one of those, and your fingers are already itching for a scene you’ll write in a later book that’ll take place in such an airplane.
“Boring,” Jennie says with a pout, and you roll your eyes as she laughs.
Taehyung and Jennie have been more in love than ever before since that Friday he told her he wanted a break only for him to change his mind and bring her flowers to confess his undying love. You trusted Jungkook about Taehyung’s sincerity, and he hasn’t done a single thing to make you doubt after that.
They’ve practically moved in together, in fact, and Jennie’s been a ball of sunshine, her smile never too far off her lips.
“Fuck off!” Jimin yells from the other side of the pool, and you glance that way to see Jungkook is lurking not too far from him, clearly threatening to push him in the water.
Jimin says something in a quick Satoori dialect, and you can’t keep up with the quick words. Not when they’re swallowed by Jungkook’s laugh, Taehyung throwing a volleyball at Jimin.
It hits him in the back of the head, and he spins around, cursing, only for Jungkook to take that opportunity to pounce on him, pushing him in the water.
Seokjin curses as the volleyball bounces his way, splashing his book with water, and his wife laughs as he glares at the boys in the water, Jungkook having jumped in too.
“They’re fucking kids,” he grumbles in Korean, and Minha grabs the volleyball, throwing it back in the pool.
“I don’t know how we’ll survive with a baby and them at the same time,” she says.
Jungkook explained to you yesterday that they’ve been trying to get pregnant for a few months now, though they haven’t had any luck so far. With the tour coming, you assume it’ll just get harder for them, but apparently, Minha will be touring with them.
A weird, ugly part of you is jealous at the thought, because it’s not something Jungkook ever suggested to you. You don’t know why he would have, though, as you’re not even dating, so you do your best to silence that part of you, listening to the one telling you he’s been making a lot of efforts to see you instead.
Hoseok and Heryung come out of the house, hand in hand, and the flush on their cheeks leave little to the imagination as to what they were doing in there. Heryung winks at you as her gaze catches with yours, and then she kisses Hoseok’s cheek before walking over to where you and Jennie are standing.
“Had some fun?” Jennie teases her.
It didn’t take you long to realize Jennie and Heryung are good friends, and Heryung’s outgoing personality made it easy for you to become friends with her, too.
“Sometimes, I wonder if Hoseok is trying to put a baby in me,” she says, sighing loudly.
“Ew!” Jennie bursts out at the same time as you say, “What the fuck.”
Heryung laughs, shrugging her shoulders. “We barely get time like this together, of course we’ll enjoy each other.”
You don’t blame her. From what she’s told you, she and Hoseok are mostly long distance, so it makes sense that their relationship gets… carnal whenever they do get the chance to hang out.
“Hopefully Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t hear anything,” Heryung muses. “They’re working on a song right now, can you believe it?”
You haven’t really talked to the two of them before, so you wouldn’t be one to agree with her. Jennie, on the other hand, nods her head and says, “I’m not surprised. They worked on the production of the last album the whole time when we were here a few years ago.”
Apparently, it’s a big tradition for them to come here before a tour. It started with just the boys when they were a lot younger, barely rookies of the music industry, and they’ve been doing it every time since then.
Like a little family outing before they jump into the public eye of their fame. You think it’s cute, endearing, and you’re still surprised you made the cut. But Jungkook suggested it earlier this week, after you told him that Jennie talked to you about it, and you accepted the invitation right away.
You weren’t expecting him to invite you at all. But he did, with that sweet smile of his that reveals a dimple in his cheek, his big doe eyes so filled with hope you just could not say no. Hyunseok was upset when you cancelled the plans you had with him this weekend, but he immediately understood the urgency of the situation when you told him what you would be doing instead.
“Should we get a drink?” Jennie suggests, glancing up at the sky. “It’s way too hot, and I do not feel like jumping in the pool when these idiots are playing like kids.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Jungkook yells from the pool.
The three of you glance his way, though his eyes immediately divert to you. They soften at the edges, and he offers you a tiny smile that you tuck right in against your chest, though the smile is short-lived.
Jimin tackles him, and they disappear under the surface of the pool. Jungkook comes up coughing, and Jimin is a giggling mess next to him as he emerges too.
“Yeah, I’d take a drink,” you say with a snort, and Jennie hooks her arms with yours and Heryung’s, pulling you towards the house.
It’s a huge house, a place where they actually came to film a TV show before their first tour. The owners took a liking to the group of them, and so they’ve offered to rent it to them whenever they want to. And it thankfully has AC, so it offers a reprieve from the heat outside as you step in, the cool air swarming you.
“Do we still have everything we need for lychee martinis?” Jennie asks.
“No clue, I’m having a margarita," Heryung replies.
You did indeed make a pitcher of margarita earlier, and you end up having one too, Jennie abandoning the quest of making lychee martinis when she saw that the Soho bottle is almost empty.
You clink glasses, taking the first sip inside before you return outside, where the boys are still at it in the pool, Minha tanning while Seokjin curses at the younger members. You end up making your way to the other pool chairs next to Minha, and you and Jennie share one while Heryung lies down to tan, too.
Minha offers you a polite smile as she notices you next to her, her eyes looking down at your drinks with envy. But she mentioned she’s avoiding alcohol in case she does get pregnant, so you don’t offer her a drink.
“It’s so hot,” she says, her accent thick.
“I love it,” Heryung replies in Korean. “We need to charge up on summer before winter comes.”
“Woah, we still have a lot of that before the winter,” Jennie replies, wincing. “Let’s not even think of it.”
You’re proud of yourself for understanding all of that, and you take a sip of the margarita, the cold liquid far more refreshing than you thought it could be.
Not when you know you’ve made it strong as hell. Or rather, Jimin made it strong as hell, as he claimed he accidentally dropped the tequila bottle in it or something. You don’t believe him – you know he’s done it on purpose, but you won’t complain.
The alcohol helps with making you feel less out of place with this group of people you used to be a fan of when you were younger, after all.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of more margaritas, in a blur of lounging by the pool and swimming when the boys have calmed down. Jungkook is sweet through it all, his big eyes and soft smiles feeling so, so intimate despite the group of people surrounding you. It helps that he stays with you once Jimin decides to go in for a nap and Taehyung and Jennie risk their chances at a walk on the beach.
It isn’t a private beach, so you’ve mostly decided to stay clear, if only to avoid being seen. The boys don’t want to risk people discovering this place. You understand – it’d be a quick getaway into losing this haven they’ve come to cherish through the years.
As afternoon turns into evening and bellies start rumbling with hunger, you all head inside, where you find out Yoongi has already been working on cooking dinner, Namjoon sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop in front of him, still working on the song.
You don’t know how he does it. If you were on the brink of leaving for a tour, your first priority would not be to produce a new song. You’d be focusing on spending time with the people that you love…
But Namjoon broke up with his girlfriend recently, so you do understand the need to get away, the need to produce art that’ll hold the feelings instead of keeping them locked up in his chest.
“What are you making?” Jungkook asks as he walks into the kitchen, and you don’t hear Yoongi’s reply over the noise the rest of the group makes as they file in.
Jungkook is quick to start helping his friend with the food, and you end up playing a game of Uno at the dinner table that finally gets Namjoon to stop working. It’s a mess, with a lot of yells and insults thrown at each other, and you mostly just observe, not yet comfortable with these people the way that they are with each other.
You feel some sort of a disconnect with them, which you blame on the language barrier. Though you understand most of what’s being said, it’s a whole different thing to be able to partake in casual conversation like this, especially with the loud music Hoseok also puts on. You still play though, trying your best to win, but it quickly occurs to you that the boys are cheating.
Indeed, you find a lot of lost cards under the table when you bend down some time later to pick up one you’ve dropped. Most of them are at the feet of Taehyung and Hoseok, and Taehyung catches you looking when you straighten up.
“You’re cheating,” you let out.
He raises an eyebrow, the face of composure. “Am I?”
You tilt your head to the side with a no-bullshit look on your face. “Look under the table.”
Everyone immediately does, and it leads to a collective eruption of laughter as Taehyung and Hoseok start bickering about who’s worse between the two of them. It’s finally loud enough to rouse Jimin from his slumber, and he stumbles into the kitchen with his hair sticking out all over the place, a confused look on his features.
“What the fuck are y’all doing?” he asks in Korean.
“What does it look like we’re doing?” Seokjin fires back.
“Dinner’s ready!” Jungkook yells from the kitchen proper.
You all turn to look at him, and then everyone is scrambling up, heading to where Yoongi is waiting with bowls in hands. You all form a line, taking a bowl and letting Jungkook fill it with some noodles and soup that smells heavenly as steam wafts out of it.
You end up returning outside to eat, scattering all over the picnic table and the chairs by the pool, and the boys are back to swimming not long after having eaten, despite Heryung warning them that they should digest first. They ignore it, though they don’t play as rough as they did earlier, which allows you and the other girls to partake in conversation without hearing constant screams.
“How’s the married life been?” Heryung asks Minha as you’re sipping on yet another margarita.
Minha smiles, her eyes darting to Seokjin who’s sitting with his legs in the water, chatting away with Taehyung and Yoongi.
“It’s been amazing,” she says with a dreamy sigh. “We’ve been together for so long, so I can’t say much has changed over the last year, but it feels amazing to be able to call him my husband.”
Heryung smiles. “I bet it does.”
“Do you ever want to get married?” Minha asks.
“I honestly don’t know,” Heryung admits, and you and Jennie exchange a look.
Bad sign for poor Hoseok, if you’d say so yourself.
“My parents never got married, and they still loved each other to bits,” Heryung adds. “I don’t feel like I need to get married to be able to experience a love like that, you know?”
“And do you think you and Hobi have that?” Jennie asks.
The corners of Heryung’s lips lift in a soft smile. “I think we have something solid going on. Even the distance mixed with military service wasn’t enough to fuck it up, so…” She shrugs. “I think we got this.” Her smile grows larger, more sure. “What about you and Tae?”
You can feel the love immediately pouring out of Jennie’s eyes as she lets out a small chuckle. “I think we got this, too. Would not have said that a month ago but…” She sighs, glancing at Taehyung. You catch him looking her way too, and you glance away to give them some privacy. “But he’s been everything I’ve ever dreamed of. JK told him to step up and be the man I deserve, and it shows that Taehyung listened.”
“It’s funny coming from Jungkook of all people,” Heryung says with a snort. “As if he understands that shit.”
You frown, your heart squeezing in your chest. Heryung notices, and she immediately puts a hand on your arm.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean with you,” she quickly apologizes. “But you know his history with his ex, right?”
You nod, worrying at your lower lip. “Yeah, it seemed… toxic.”
“Toxic is not even the word for it,” Heryung says. “They were horrible to each other for literal years.”
“She was way worse than he was,” Jennie says, her tone defensive.
“You know I was friends with Sara.” Heryung glances at you. “Heavy on the ‘was’. But he was way worse than her at the beginning. She became the way she was because of how he treated her during the first few years.”
You wish you did not understand Korean after all. You wish you were not sat here with the boys’ long term partners, made to feel like the odd one out. You wish you didn’t feel your heart crushing in your chest at the knowledge that Jungkook didn’t treat his ex right…
Though he was young. Youth is made to make mistakes, isn’t it? As long as he’s learned from them…
“What do you mean?” Minha asks.
Heryung winces as she glances at you, her nose scrunching up. “Well, he did string her along for months before they made things official.”
There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? Except…
Except you’re kind of stuck in a similar pattern, aren’t you?
“And he was fucking around so much during that time too,” Heryung adds. “Shit, I feel like we should not be talking about this.”
Jungkook, fucking around? That doesn’t sound like the sweet man you’ve come to know, but then again… then again he was a young, attractive celebrity. Of course, he’d be sleeping around.
“You okay?” Jennie asks you, and the three girls look at you.
“Yeah,” you say, nodding your head as if to give emphasis to the word. “We don’t really talk about that usually so…”
“He honestly has changed a hell of a lot through the years,” Heryung reassures you. "They all kind of used to fuck around a bunch. Except Seokjin, but that’s only because he and Minha are ancient.”
“What do you mean ancient?” Minha says as she laughs softly. “We’re just high school sweethearts.”
Heryung meets your gaze. “Ancient, I’m telling you.”
Minha playfully pushes Heryung as you snort.
“Honestly, it’s commendable that you guys stayed together through–” you motion around – “all of this.”
Minha’s eyes shine as she grins. “Thank you. It wasn’t always easy, but it just made sense. We’ve got that red thread around our wrists and all.”
You barely know her, yet you’re so happy for her. Because if you were to meet your soulmate one day, you too would sustain any hurdles life throws your way to stay with them.
Your eyes glide towards Jungkook. He’s now sitting on the other side of the pool while Jimin floats on his back in front of him. They’re talking, yet Jungkook must have sensed your eyes on him because he looks up, his features softening.
For a moment, it’s like everything fades away – the chatter of the people surrounding you, the sound of the waves on the beach, the shrill cry of crickets as the sun sets. For a moment, it’s just you and Jungkook and you wonder, do you have red strings around your wrists, too?
Or is this bound to end in painful tears and broken hearts?
The thought is chilling. A lot more than it should be in the fading day, the warmth lingering around even though the sun is nearly gone. It makes your heart strain in your chest, and it’s much more painful than it should be.
Maybe it’s your mistake for getting so attached to him so fast. But you can’t help it – he’s everything you’ve always dreamed of, and you’re a hopeless romantic.
Of course you’ll romanticize everything when it comes to him, too. But… but you like to tell yourself it’s reciprocated. It has to be – no one can mimic that look in their eyes. And his eyes, they hold the light of the universe when he looks at you.
Some time later, when everyone starts calling it a night as you have to get up relatively early tomorrow for a yacht trip out at sea, you find yourself making your way into the house along with Jungkook. He’s silent as you climb the stairs to the room you’ve claimed for yourselves – the smallest one, as Jungkook is the youngest of the group and does not have dibs on anything.
You don’t find anything to say as you walk upstairs, all the margaritas and the weight of the day starting to weigh on your shoulders, making you yawn as you finish climbing up.
Yet when Jungkook grabs your hand the second you’re in your room, gently turning you around so he can kiss you, you feel all your worries disappearing like mist in the sun.
There’s no way he’d kiss you like that if he didn’t mean it. It’s enough to fully reassure you, and you melt into the kiss, tongue teasing his piercings. He chuckles in your mouth, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours, and you remain unmoving for a time, just enjoying each other’s proximity.
“I’m so happy you get along so well with everyone,” he whispers. “I… I really like having you here.”
Your heart skips a beat. “I love hanging out with all of them.” You smile softly. “They’re so welcoming.”
Jungkook pulls away, pecking your forehead. “They’re happy for me.”
You’re melting. Like a puddle that might pass through the cracks on the floor, but his hands on your waist are strong, holding you up.
“You do deserve happiness, you know that?” you whisper.
He doesn’t say anything for a time, so long that you open your eyes wondering if you said the wrong thing. But then you see him looking at you with so much emotion in his eyes you feel like you’ve been hit by a tsunami. His gaze is lined with silver, and you think he might cry, but then a knock at the door makes you jump, startling you.
“Are you guys going to take a shower right away?” Jimin asks through the door, fully disregarding the fact he might have interrupted a moment. “Or can I go?”
You and Jungkook exchange a look, and you see the emotion has faded from his gaze. It makes you want to cry, makes you wish you could step back in time to ten seconds ago just to relive the moment you opened your eyes.
But you can’t. So you say, “We probably should take a shower.”
Jungkook nods. “We’ll go first.”
Jimin groans on the other side of the door, and you chuckle lightly at the sound. “Be quick.”
You are. Or at least, you try your best. You share the shower with Jungkook, cleaning yourself while he cleans himself, but then your gazes connect, and Jungkook’s lips are on yours before you have time to take a breath.
It’s destroying. The kiss breaks you down, builds you anew into playdough under his adept fingers. You know that, in the moment, Jungkook could ask you to do anything and you’d do it. No questions asked, pure trust for him echoing with every beat of your heart.
And he kisses you like there’s no tomorrow. Like he, too, is realizing that he’ll be leaving for months soon, the fear of the distance making him need you closer. And you can tell he wants you close, much like you want him close. You’d have him under your skin if you could, you’d have him in you and around you and everywhere in between.
You wish you could fuse with him. Fuse with his heart and soul and pour every single of your heartbeats into him, just so he knows your heart beats for him. It has for a while now, but it’s just been growing stronger, so strong you realize there really only are two options when it comes to you and Jungkook: either you break unforgivably, or you live on to spend a life with him. It’s scary, and vulnerable, and the type of feelings you’re used to writing about, not the ones you usually experience.
It’s something so grand you think the fabric of the universe sighs when Jungkook pushes into you, his dick filling every inch of you. He’s bent you down, fucking you from behind, yet his arms wrap around your waist to make you straighten. So he can hold you close, so you can feel his strong body behind you. And then he’s moving in you as you lean your hands on the cool tile of the shower wall. His lips are peppering endless kisses on the skin of your shoulder and in your neck, and he’s whispering sweet nothings in your ear that makes your mind spin with him, your heart full with him.
You’re in love, you realize. You’ve fallen in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever had the chance to experience. But it’s also scary with the vulnerability that it arises – you’re terrified for the months to come.
What if the distance undoes you?
Jungkook must sense your unease, because he slows down, hand reaching for your chin so he can make you turn your head. And then he kisses you softly, like a feather, and your heart settles in your chest, syncing with his.
You’ll be okay. You have to be.
Saturday, August 30th
The waves lap at the hull of the yacht relentlessly, though they’ve grown weaker now that you’re further out at sea, the coast a distant line on the horizon. The water is darker here, deep blue compared to the crystalline aspect it takes near the shore, and the sun beams down on you where it sits high in the sky, the vast expanse of it unbothered by clouds.
It’s beautiful. You think, if someone were to ask you to describe what heaven would look like, it would be this. The sea, the sun, the sails of a sailboat in the distance.
The people you’re surrounded with. The captain of the yacht is none other than the owner of the house you’re staying in, and he’s been chatting it up with Seokjin and Namjoon on the top deck, where the wheel of the boat is. He makes you think of a fun grandpa, with his Hawaiian shirt and the fishing hat he’s wearing. He spoke to you in a heavily accented Korean you did not understand, before saying the only word he’s been saying to you all day.
Pretty.
You’ll take it. Because he says it with a genuine grin each time – Jennie told you he said you remind him of his son’s wife, so you know he means no harm.
The weather is hot, though the breeze now that you’re out at sea helps, making your hair dance all around your head where you’re lounging on the sun deck along with the other girls and Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung. Hoseok and Yoongi are sitting at the back, where you ate earlier, talking about something they’ve clearly indicated they don’t want to share with the rest of you.
Jungkook thinks they’re talking about the producer Yoongi’s been hooking up with, but you wouldn’t know.
“I don’t ever want to go back to Tokyo,” Heryung says next to you.
You’re lying down, eyes closed to enjoy the sun, and you turn your head to look at her, cracking an eye open. You’re blinded by the sun, and you put your hand over your face to create a shadow on your features.
“When are you going back?” you ask.
“Tomorrow.” She sighs, glancing at you. “I have a direct flight there.”
“Oof,” you let out.
“At least, we’re all leaving at the same time. But I won’t get to enjoy the private jet back to Seoul.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ll all be napping on the flight back,” you tell her, trying to sound reassuring.
“Wish that were me.” Her sigh is dramatic, and she turns on her stomach, leaning on her elbows as she looks at you. “Should I move back to Seoul?”
You’re surprised she’s asking you out of all people. And you don’t have time to reply, because Jennie yells from the other side of you, “Yes, please!”
Heryung bursts out laughing. “You’re more eager than Hobi.”
“You’d understand if you had to hear him complain about it constantly.” That comes from Jimin, who you weren’t aware was even paying attention to what you and Heryung were saying.
“Aw, of course he is.” She smiles, closing her fists to lean her chin on them. “He’s a cutie.”
“He’s a pain in the ass is what he is,” Jimin grumbles.
Apparently, they got into a small argument earlier over something that Heryung called stupid and not worth discussing, but Jimin is clearly still salty about it.
“Womp womp,” Taehyung jokes, and Jimin glares at him.
“Fuck off.”
They start bickering in quick Korean, and you sit up, your eyes trailing to Jungkook. He’s already looking at you, and his gaze grows tender the second yours finds him. Your heart starts beating faster, your lungs filling with warmth. There are butterflies in your stomach, taking flight in a spiral that makes you feel like you might start flying too. You feel light and heavy at the same time, so full of emotions you might just burst right here.
You really have fallen for Jungkook. So much more than you thought it possible.
Jungkook smiles. It starts in his eyes and trickles down to his lips, and he tilts his head toward the cabin of the yacht like an invitation. Anticipation swells in you, and you get up, grabbing your sunglasses to put them back on.
“Where are you going?” Jennie asks.
Jungkook gets up at that moment, and Jennie looks at him.
“Oh,” she lets out.
You snort. “Just going to grab some snacks.”
“Yeah, ‘snacks’,” she mimics, and you roll your eyes as you head inside, though you have to walk around the cabin in and of itself to access it from the back, where large sliding doors keep the AC inside. You politely nod at Hoseok and Yoongi, and Hoseok grins at you. You grin back, unable to stop yourself, and then you walk in, surprised at the rush of cold air that surrounds you.
Goosebumps cover your skin, and you rub your arms as Jungkook slides the door shut behind you.
“Snacks, mmh?” he lets out, and he grabs your waist, spinning you around to press his lips on yours.
You expected the kiss, and you welcome it readily, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close. He tastes of the beer he drank earlier, though the second his tongue starts truly teasing yours, your mind empties.
Only for you to startle in his hold when Hoseok taps on the door. You both glance at him, and you see him mouthing ‘Get a room’, though you can’t hear him through the glass. Yoongi is smirking next to him, but he looks away when you look at him.
Jungkook flips them off, and then he tugs you further inside, where the kitchen area is located. He’s kissing you again then, his hands gently caressing up your sides before he cups your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side.
You wish life would stop on this moment, forever. On the joy lingering in the air when he pulls away, smiling wide. He’s so damn beautiful it hurts, and you wonder how it is that he chose you. That you’re the one he invited here, that you’re the one he’s kissing like the world is ending.
“I know I’ve said it already but you look fucking fantastic,” he says. He takes a step back, making a show of looking you up and down. “This colour looks amazing on you.”
You look down at your pink bikini, a laugh bubbling its way up in your throat. “You like the colour, or the bikini?”
He pulls at his piercings, eyes twinkling with mischief as he grabs your waist, pulling you closer again. “The colour, of course.”
He winks, and you giggle as he leans in to press a kiss on your forehead. It’s featherlight, barely there, and fuck, the feelings swell so much they almost spill out of your mouth.
But then he steps back, heading to the fridge, and the words get stuck in your throat, so much so you choke on them a little, clearing your throat. Jungkook doesn’t notice as he opens the fridge to grab a can of beer, and he offers you one, though you decline with a shake of your head. He frowns, but then he returns to rummaging through the fridge, pulling out a spiked lemonade that looks a lot more inviting than beer.
“Thanks,” you say, grabbing the can as he hands it to you, and he grins again, clearly satisfied that his offer was accepted. “Why’d you want to pull me in here alone?” you ask as you lean against the counter, cracking the can open.
Jungkook mirrors your position next to you as he too opens his drink. You clink together, and you take a sip of the refreshing lemonade, though it feels strangely cold in here, making you shiver. Jungkook slides closer to you until the warm skin of his arm is pressed against yours, and you smile up at him.
“Just wanted to spend some time alone with you,” he said. “You’re always with Jennie and Heryung.”
You chuckle. “They’re fun. And we’re also on a boat.”
Jungkook’s lips jut out in a small pout. “Just say you’re avoiding me on purpose.”
“Shut up,” you say as you roll your eyes, your laugh tumbling out of you. “I’m not avoiding you at all.”
He grins. “Good.” He leans down, pressing a peck on your temple. “That would suck.”
You nod in agreement. “Gotta enjoy the little time we have left.”
You don’t realize how sad your sentence sounds before it’s out there, hanging in the air between you and Jungkook. He tenses next to you, his eyes dropping to the can in his hands, and you wish you hadn’t said anything.
Wish you could take it all back.
“I hope you do enjoy it,” Jungkook muses, voice low.
You turn to face him fully. “I really am.”
He nods, but his eyes remain on the can, and you feel like he disappeared somewhere inside of his mind. You don’t know how to bring him back, so you try to step in his line of vision. He meets your gaze for just a heartbeat and a half before he’s looking away, pushing up from the counter and motioning outside.
“Should we go back with the others?”
His question makes you raise an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to spend some time alone with me.”
He sucks on his piercings, tugging them into his mouth, and then he sighs, closing his eyes as he slightly shakes his head. “Yes. Sorry.” He takes a deep breath, and then adds, “It’s hard to believe I’m leaving on Monday.”
It is. It’s hard to believe you’ll soon be in a city that’s void of him.
How will it even look without him around?
“Aren’t you excited?” you ask.
He takes a sip of beer as he seems to ponder your question, and then answers, “I am. I really am, I love performing.” He meets your gaze then, and the drop of sadness behind his irises looks so out of place in this place that should be filled with joy you feel like crying. “But… I think I’ll miss you.”
You crumble. You crumble into little pieces on the ground because… because that means something. That means everything that’s been building up in your chest has been building up in his too, and it’s the reassurance you needed.
“I’ll miss you too,” you murmur.
He offers you a sad smile, and then sighs again. “But let’s not think about that right now. Let’s live in the present.” He chuckles, but it lacks conviction. “No use in fearing tomorrow when we’ve got today.”
It sounds wise, and you’re pretty sure you heard Namjoon say something similar earlier. Considering how much Jungkook respects his older friend, you’re not surprised it stuck with him.
“Let’s,” you agree, and Jungkook meets your gaze again.
The drop of sadness in his gaze slowly melts away, replaced with that same tenderness you spied earlier. It steals your breath, much like Jungkook’s lips on yours do a second later. You shut your eyes at his sudden proximity, your free hand landing on the skin of his chest, still sunwarmed despite the AC blasting in the cabin. His finds the back of your neck, and he cradles you close as his soft lips move against yours.
You don’t know how long you kiss. Just know heat puddles in your lower stomach, and you put the can down on the counter behind him, your hand itchy to touch him more. To feel his skin on yours and his breath mingling with yours. Jungkook also puts down his can, and he caresses your sides before cupping your ass, squeezing lightly. You let out a breathy sound that he swallows like he’s dying of starvation, and he pushes you closer until all the length of him is pressed against all of you. His dick is on your stomach, so hard you feel wetness pooling at your core and you reach between your bodies, rubbing your hand on him.
“What the fuck!” Jennie yells, and you jump back, heart beating out of your chest, cheeks flushed.
She’s standing at the sliding doors, one hand over her eyes, and you hear Hoseok say, “Told you.”
“Get a fucking room!” Jennie yells again. “I’m never going to be able to look at you again.”
“Girl,” you let out, an embarrassed chuckle falling from your lips. “We were just kissing.”
“That looked like a lot more than kissing,” she replies, her hand still covering her eyes. “Are you sure you’re wearing clothes?”
You burst out laughing this time. “Yes, babe, we are.”
She nods, and her hand falls at her side. She bursts out laughing the second your gazes meet, and she says, “Hell yeah, girl.”
You laugh along with her, Jungkook remaining strangely silent beside you. You glance at him to see his cheeks are beet red, and he meets your gaze with a wince that makes you reach for him so you can squeeze his hand. He visibly relaxes then, and he grabs his can of beer, taking a long drag of it.
“Should have locked the door,” he mumbles, looking all sheepish.
You grin at him. “We’ll know for next time.”
He smiles too, revealing the small dimples in his cheek. “Next time,” he repeats.
It sounds like a promise.
*****
Jungkook is a mess. He feels stressed for the tour coming, especially more so now that Namjoon told them they’ll have to take a flight right away when they return to Incheon because their manager thought it was a good idea to book some last minute interviews. Which means he’s not leaving on Monday anymore.
One less day with you.
He’s been silent since Namjoon told him, not too long after they disembarked from the yacht. You were walking ahead with Jennie and Heryung, Minha not too far behind, and so he doubts you heard the news.
And they’ve all collectively decided to not tell you girls. If only to salvage the atmosphere that’s been reigning on this little getaway far from reality. Even Seokjin refrained from telling Minha, though he made sure that her flight ticket was also updated since she’s coming with them.
He doesn’t even have 24 hours left with you. It feels like a countdown has started in the distance, every second like the beat of a dreadful gong. It echoes in his mind, swirls down to his heart and squeezes it uncomfortably.
He doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s falling for you, so, so much, but he doesn’t want to force you into a long distance relationship. And they’ll be touring for the next year.
He can’t ask you to wait for him for a year. Hell, though your visa allows you to stay until April, he doesn’t even know if you’re planning to renew it to stay for longer. You haven’t talked about the future a lot yet, stuck in this cycle of getting to know each other and being too busy to truly do so, and he’s running out of time.
Hell, he thinks he already ran out of time. Because, how is he supposed to make you understand what’s going on in his head in 24 hours when he barely even understands it himself?
He can’t stop thinking of you. Hasn’t fully stopped thinking of you since he saw you that first time in May, and it’s been months and he still can’t fucking understand. It’s like you’re engraved on his bones, carved into his very essence.
And he’s leaving in less than 24 hours.
He wants to cry. He wants to cry and scream because he should be excited. After all, he’s been looking forward to this tour ever since they announced they were going to do their military service. It’s been planned for years now, yet it tastes so fucking bittersweet today.
He sighs, rubbing a hand on his face as he leans back in his seat by the firepit. The atmosphere is a little more somber tonight, like there’s a damper on the guys’ enthusiasm, but he can hear you girls chatting away where you’re sitting by the pool. He spies a look at you, and you immediately meet his gaze, offering him a wide grin.
He tries to reciprocate, but he knows he failed when you frown before getting up, walking over to where he’s sitting.
“Everything okay?” you ask as you claim the spot next to him.
He glances at the members around the fire – Seokjin, Namjoon and Jimin, the others inside doing fuck knows what – before looking at you again.
“Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?” he asks.
You glance in the general direction of the beach before looking at him again. “It’s pretty dark, but I’m down to see the view.”
You smile like that might just be the most exciting thing you’ll do in your life, your eyes sparkling, and his anxiety settles in his chest a little, like the weight on his shoulders was lessened. In truth, it has been lessened. You’ve always had that impact on him.
Jungkook gets up, and the members all look at him and then you before their eyes return to the flames in front of them. They’re silent, much like he was, though you know they’re not all dreading the departure tomorrow. Indeed, Namjoon’s been needing to leave Seoul for a while, getting broken up with last month having been hard on him.
And Seokjin… Seokjin doesn’t have anything to worry about. Because Minha is coming too, and he’ll get to spend the following months with her.
Jungkook feels jealous, and he hates that he does. So he pushes the feeling away as he holds out his hand for you to take, your fingers interlacing with his. You squeeze his hand as he leads you towards the fence gate at the end of the backyard. There’s a short path on the other side that’s followed by stairs going down to the beach, and you both kick off your slippers on the last step, before jumping down in the sand.
It’s cool, the warmth of the sun having fully disappeared almost two hours ago, though the air is still warm enough despite the wind coming from the sea. Jungkook tugs you close, holding your hand tightly, refusing to let go.
He needs you close right now, because who knows when’s the next time he’ll get to hold you? If there is even a next time…
“Is everything okay?” you ask as he turns left so that you can walk along the beach.
He slowly pulls you closer to the water, though he stops before you actually reach it, not wanting to get his feet wet. The sand is hard here, also making it easier to walk, and the waves crashing on the beach are loud, yet not nearly as much as it was earlier today.
Jungkook rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, eyes going to the horizon, to the sea of stars that seem to be endless, only interrupted by the ocean.
“Yeah,” he lets out, and then he sighs deeply, aware it doesn’t sound like anything is okay at all. “It’s just…”
He falls silent, unable to find the words. Unable to name his fears, and the weight of everything comes crashing onto his shoulders.
There are goodbyes hanging in the air. Ones he doesn’t feel like having.
“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he says, and he runs a hand through his hair. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“I know,” you say with a chuckle.
He frowns, glancing at you. “Who told you?”
A quizzical look takes over your pretty features, your eyebrows almost touching over your eyes. “Well, we’re all leaving tomorrow.”
Oh. His heart squeezes in his chest, and he sees the moment you understand. The moment you notice the sadness in his gaze, the tightness to his lips.
“Oh,” you echo his inner voice. “You’re leaving leaving tomorrow.”
He nods, and he looks away at the sea again. “Manager called Namjoon earlier to let him know.”
You don’t say anything, though you let go of his hand, grabbing his arm instead. It makes you step closer to him, and he takes in the feeling of you against him, carves it in his brain so he doesn’t forget.
“That’s okay,” you finally say. “We got all weekend.”
His head drops, eyes falling on the sand in front of his feet. “We did.”
Silence falls, loud with the wind and the waves, and Jungkook’s incessant thoughts. He wishes the thoughts could stop for a time, but they don’t. It’s dizzying, and he wishes he could drown it in the sea for a while.
“I’ve been meaning to ask…” you start, trailing off as he glances at you. You let out a small, anxious chuckle, and he can hear you gulp as you swallow. “What does that mean for us, Jungkook?”
There it is. It’s a conversation he wishes you didn’t need to have, one that scares him shitless, but he can’t run away from it.
“I don’t think we should do long distance,” he says.
You stop walking, letting go of his arm as you stare up into his eyes, shock ebbing on your features like ripples on water. And Jungkook hates himself, and wishes you’d understand.
“Sorry?” you let out.
He pulls at his piercings. “I can’t ask you to do long distance, Y/n.”
You raise your eyebrows. “What if I want to do it?”
He stares at you, unblinking. “What?”
“What if I want to do the long distance?” you repeat.
He wasn’t expecting that. He doesn’t know why, but he believed you would understand right away. Wishful thinking.
“I’m leaving for a year,” he says, his throat dry as he tries to swallow. “I can’t ask you to wait for me for that long.”
You blink a few times, and he has to look away when he notices the silver line in your eyes. He can’t look at you crying. That might make him weak, but he just can’t.
“I don’t care,” you say. “A year is nothing.”
“A year is a lot.”
You shake your head, grabbing his arm again. He looks at you then, relieved to see you’ve blinked the tears away. “Jungkook, a year is nothing.”
There’s so much conviction in your eyes he feels his resolve crumbling. Because it’s a sign you want to stay here in Korea, and he was not expecting it at all.
“I don’t want you to get lonely,” he whispers.
You shrug. “We can text and call,” you point out. “You leaving on tour should not be the reason why we end things.”
Things… what even are you?
“But what if…” He pulls at his piercings, giving a shake of his head. “What if you do get lonely? I won’t be able to come back.”
“I have my friends,” you say. “I’ll hang out with Jennie and Hyunseok and Mingyu.”
“Mingyu’s leaving for military service soon.”
Your gaze widens. “What?”
Shit, he wasn’t supposed to tell you.
“He’s enlisting by the end of the year,” Jungkook admits.
You remain silent for a few seconds again, before saying, “Oh well.”
A bigger wave crashes on the shore, and Jungkook quickly pulls you higher up as the water races toward your feet.
“I just don’t know if doing the long distance is a good idea,” he admits. “We’re not even…”
He can’t finish the sentence. Not when you fold your arms on your chest, cocking an eyebrow. “Are we not?”
He doesn’t know how to reply to that, so he just stares with a wide-eyed gaze.
“What am I doing here then, Jungkook?” you ask.
It takes him ten heartbeats before he’s able to speak, “I wanted us to say goodbye.”
You scoff, and it’s a cold sound, one he thinks might make the sea freeze over. But it’s only his heart in his chest turning to ice, and he wishes he could take it all back.
“And here I thought you liked me.”
Your words fall like lead in his stomach, and he gulps around a lump in his throat. “I do.”
“Then why are you ending things?”
You turn blurry, and he furiously blinks, refusing to let the tears fall. “I’m afraid.”
For a moment, it’s like the sea pauses, the wind holds its breath. It’s like the universe was put on hold, and you just look up into his eyes with sadness clinging at the seams of you.
“Jungkook… what are you afraid of?”
Everything. He’s afraid of everything. But mostly, he’s afraid of losing you. He’s afraid you’ll find someone else while he’s gone, someone to entertain you when he can’t.
Sara did it once, after all.
“I don’t know,” he lets out, squeezing his eyes shut. “Aren’t you afraid, too?”
He doesn’t hear you come closer, but your hand gently cups his cheeks, and his eyelids flutter open. You’ve stepped closer to him, so close he needs only to bend to press his lips on yours.
“Oh, Jungkook,” you whisper, and your thumb swipes at his cheeks, collecting a tear that slipped free. “Yes, I am. But I think it’s okay to be scared.”
His throat bobs as he swallows, almost choking on that same lump. “I’m afraid we’ll get hurt,” he whispers. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“You won’t,” you reassure him, and you tiptoe to press a featherlight kiss on his lips. “I trust you, Jungkook.”
Emotions rush in. Wash over him, scatter his soul to sea, and Jungkook grabs your waist, catching your mouth in a languid kiss that soon tastes like his tears, like the sea next to you. You lose your hand in his hair, the other grabbing the front of his shirt as if to keep him from leaving.
But he can’t. He won’t.
He’s been falling in love with you, inevitably, and he’s just been afraid of the vulnerability. Of the loss that might come.
But even if he does lose you one day… isn’t it better to have at least experienced you? To have gotten to be with you, to love you?
He knows the answer to that as you kiss him with such fervor he feels weak in the knees. And the kiss lasts forever, for an eternity that takes all his worries and pushes them out to be swallowed by the waves crashing on the shore.
When you eventually pull away, staring up into his eyes with stars in yours, Jungkook whispers, “I’m starting to like you a lot.”
You smile, so soft and beautiful under the light of the constellations above. “Me too.”
He pecks your forehead then, his lips lingering there for another small eternity. Up until you let out a small giggle, and he pulls away to the sight of you grinning from ear to ear.
“You like me,” you say through the grin.
His heart is full and warm, blooming like a flower in the spring. “I do.” He chuckles, and he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “You like me, too.”
You nod, laughing again. “I do.”
Fuck. He feels like crying from the relief, from finally being free of this stress.
“Do you want to keep walking?” he asks.
You glance to the side, before nodding your head. “Yes.”
And so Jungkook grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers again, and he tugs you down the beach, toward the spot where the sand and the water meet at the horizon. It’s silent, but a comfortable kind of silence he wishes he could record to have with him when he’ll be gone. It’s a silence of enjoying each other’s company, of hope that shines brighter than the stars above.
It’s a silence of two people falling in love.
Jungkook smiles to himself as you walk, unable to keep the joy from tugging at his lips, and he reckons you’re smiling too. Indeed, whenever you meet his gaze for a soft embrace, your lips are curled up, eyes twinkling.
You’re happy. And that makes him more happy than anything else ever could.
“Look, there’s a swing!” you say, motioning to said swing higher up on the beach.
You let go of his hand, running toward it, and Jungkook runs after you, chasing your giggles in the wind. He helps you up on it, pushing you as you laugh and kick your feet at the stars, and he feels infinite.
He wonders if you feel it too.
You must, because when the swing finally slows down to a halt, you squeeze in a corner, patting the spot next to you. It’s barely large enough to fit the both of you, yet Jungkook settles down next to you, arm wrapped around the rope on his side. You lean your head on his shoulder, eyes looking up at the sky, and his gaze travels to the stars too, taking in their beauty.
It doesn’t compare to your beauty, but it’s still a sight to see, one he knows will become a core memory. He feels it deep in his gut, as if his hippocampus is already working over time to make sure everything can be committed to perfect memory.
And as you look at the sky over your heads, a shooting star crosses the vast expanse of it, leaving him with a wish he hopes is on your mind too. A wish he prays is reciprocated, yet one he won’t say out loud just yet, if only to not jinx it.
He really does feel infinite tonight.
*****
You must have stayed on the beach for longer than you thought you did. Indeed, as you walk back to the house, climbing the stairs and pushing the iron fence open to return to the backyard, you notice everyone has gone inside, and the lack of lights on indicates that they all probably went to bed, too.
You feel bad for keeping Jungkook away from his bandmates for the last night before they’re leaving for their tour, but you’re also infinitely thankful Jungkook decided to spend this moment with you.
Infinitely thankful that he didn’t push through with ending things. Because you would have broken out there on the beach, and it would have been ugly.
You don’t want Jungkook to ever see you breaking down. You want to show him the strongest parts of you, those that can withstand what a life by his side might be.
“Guess we should also head to bed,” Jungkook says as he too takes in the empty backyard.
You glance at him over your shoulder, and then look up at the stars again. “We spent way too long looking at the stars.”
Jungkook steps closer to you, turning you around with a gentle hand on your arm. He then cups your cheek, before leaning in to brush his lips on yours. “I loved every second of it.”
You smile bright, and then you tug him towards the house. He follows you with a small laugh, and you slide the door open, making sure to be as silent as possible. You hear a shower in the bathroom on the ground floor though, so someone has to still be up. You reckon they might have not come back in too long ago.
You end up quickly taking a shower upstairs, Jungkook accompanying you once more. He’s touchy, rubbing your back and pulling you back into his chest as you stand under the warm water, and you lean your head back on his shoulder. His soft lips peck your cheek as you do so, and you melt in his touch, eyes shutting in contentment.
“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers, kissing your cheek again. “I want to hold you in my arms.”
You’re gone for this man. So thoroughly gone you wonder if you’ll ever be the same again. You doubt you will – Jungkook has forever changed you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Once you’re done in the shower, you quickly dry yourself, before putting on your PJs and heading back to your room. You chuck your dirty clothes in your luggage while Jungkook neatly folds his, and then you sit on the bed, watching him as he straightens, his grey joggers hanging low on his hips.
He didn’t bother with putting underwear or a shirt on, and you lean back on your elbows as he stalks towards you. You spread your legs to make space for him as he climbs on the bed, and he immediately bends down to capture your lips in a languid kiss. You sigh in his mouth, your heart syncing with his, and you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him in as close as possible.
Because this is it. This is the last night you’re getting with him for months, and you’ll make it count. You’ll be damned if you don’t.
“Jungkook,” you whisper as he pulls away to look at you for a moment.
He’s beautiful like this, hair wet from the shower, drops of water still littering his skin from how poorly he actually dried himself. They shine in the light of the lamp on the night table like tiny pools of gold, and you dry the ones on his neck with your thumb.
“Yes?” he asks.
“I can’t believe I used to think you hated me.”
He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners as he leans down to kiss you sweetly again. “I never did,” he whispers like a promise. “I was always just too attracted to you.”
You can’t help your smile. “Of course you were.”
“You were wearing a green dress when I met you,” he muses. “You were a fucking vision.”
“And you were pissy and asked me to sign an NDA.”
Jungkook winces before letting himself fall on the bed next to you.
“I’m such a fucking loser.”
You laugh, rolling until you’re straddling him, his big hands immediately resting on your thighs. “I was so pissed,” you admit. “But I genuinely thought I would never see you again.”
His features grow more serious as he looks up at you, his hands rubbing your thighs gently. “I think I would have died if I never got to see you again.”
You snort, bending down to press your lips on the pillowy softness of his for a second before leaning back. “You’re cheesy.”
“For you? Damn right I am.”
You take a deep breath, the scent of his bodywash filling your nose. It’s so him that you feel your heart reaching for him, so much so it’s almost painful.
You’re in deeper than the Pacific Ocean.
So you dive in. Into those sparkly eyes of his, so tender they feel like a warm summer breeze. You jump into his eyes, feet first, losing yourself in him. Even more so as he sits up to capture your lips, and you follow him down as he lies back, his hands now on your back to pull you with him.
And you kiss him with passion. You kiss him with fire, with rain like that of a storm. You kiss him with all the strength of the feelings you have for him, and he kisses you back with the same intensity, meeting you exactly where you are.
You sit up, take off your shirt and toss it to the side. Jungkook’s gaze dips to your breasts, and he cups them, pinching your nipples lightly, before tugging you back down into another kiss. It’s like there’s a tornado in your brain then, as he spins you to be on top of you again, and you let out a surprised yelp that ends with his hand on your mouth.
“Shh,” he lets out. “We wouldn’t want the others to hear.”
And then, like he has no care for your sanity, Jungkook leaves a trail of hot kisses down your neck. But he doesn’t stop there, continuing his path downwards to your breasts. His tongue teases at one of your nipples, and it hardens at the sensation. He smirks at the sight, though he doesn’t linger around for too long as he keeps lowering himself down your body.
As if it’s not enough, he ends up kneeling on the floor next to the bed, grabbing your thighs to pull you closer. He unties the knot that’s holding your shorts up before pulling them down your legs along with your panties.
It seems Jungkook has no patience to tease you tonight like he usually does. There’s some sort of urgency in his touch, in the way he kisses at the inside of your thighs, nipping at the skin. And before you know it, he buries himself in your pussy, his tongue dipping in between your folds before he goes up to tease your clit, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out a breathy sound that makes him pull away, and he regards you with so much intensity in those dark eyes of his you think your heart stops in your chest.
“Baby, they can hear us,” he reminds you.
You gulp, nodding your head. “Sorry. I’ll be careful.”
He smirks, head tilting to the side like a predator sizing his prey. “Good girl.”
His words send pleasure coursing up your spine, much like his lips closing around your clit does a second later. It takes everything in you to not moan out loud, and you put a hand on your mouth to muffle the breathy noise that still crawls its way up your throat. Jungkook lets it slide this time, too busy making out with your pussy, his tongue tracing adept circles on your clit before he starts flicking at it.
It feels heavenly. So much better than it’s ever been with anyone before, and your hand grabs at the sheets on the bed, so much so you think you might rip the fabric. But it holds on strong as your fist tightens, and Jungkook flattens his tongue, swiping it from side to side.
You try to grind on his face to get more friction, but he’s quick to put a hand on your stomach, holding you in place. It somehow heightens the sensation of his tongue on you, and your mind goes blank.
And then it explodes as he pushes a finger inside of you. You see colours and lights, a kaleidoscope that makes your mind spin. It’s harder to keep your sounds in, and you have to bite in the skin of the inside of your lip to prevent from alerting the whole house that you’re currently getting the best head you’ve ever gotten in your life.
It always feels like this with Jungkook, and you’ll never get tired of it.
“I’m close,” you let out in a whimper as Jungkook keeps making out with your pussy, making lewd noises that have to be loud enough to be heard outside the door.
He hums against you, the sound like a shockwave in your body, and your fist clenches on the sheets once more as you try to grind on him again only to be firmly held down by his hand on your stomach.
It’s frustrating, and you let go of the sheets to grab his hair instead, trying to push his head down. Jungkook lets you do it, most likely because he can sense your walls growing impossibly tight around his finger like they always do when you’re about to come. He curls his finger, rubs at that nutty spot inside of you, and you lose it as he sucks on your clit, hard.
You break apart. You lose sense of your surroundings, the orgasm crashing through you in waves and waves of pleasure, Jungkook guiding you through it all. He’s gentle with it, making sure it doesn’t get oversensitive, and you ride the pleasure for longer than you thought it possible.
It’s ecstasy in its purest form. Everything seems out of focus when you open your eyes again, like there’s an aura coating every object. Coating Jungkook, as he pushes you back on the bed to be able to climb on top of you once more. He kisses you rough, the taste of you on his lips mixing with his taste, and you kiss him back sloppily, your tongue meeting his.
When Jungkook leans back from the kiss to take off his sweatpants, you admire the aura of light that seems to be surrounding him. It’s yellow and pink, with some orange, like the light of the lamp is fractured in its different components. It’s beautiful.
He is beautiful. So fucking ethereal your eyes water at the sight of him.
And he likes you.
Jungkook likes you.
“Hey, you okay?” he whispers when he’s climbed back on top of you, his dick teasing your swollen entrance.
“I really like you,” you murmur with all the vulnerability in your heart.
He kisses you, time slows and stretches, and you wrap your arms to hold him close to you. As if that’ll keep him right here with you and for a foolish moment, you think it does. You tell yourself he’s staying tomorrow, and all the days after that.
It’s the most beautiful lie you’ve ever told yourself.
“I like you so much,” Jungkook replies. He grabs his dick to align himself properly, and then pushes inside of you to the hilt.
You’re so full of him, physically and emotionally, and you think this is it.
This is what your brain will remind you in the seconds before your death.
“So, so much,” Jungkook adds, and then he’s kissing you again.
You’re his. You’re so completely his, and you know he’s yours too. Maybe you haven’t put a label on your relationship tonight, but you’re going to try to make it work. And in this moment in time, you don’t have a doubt that it’ll work.
There’s too much love in the air for it to not work. It’s everywhere in this room, like a thousand fireflies, twinkling to life around you. It’s in Jungkook’s gaze, in the way he slowly pulls his hips back before pushing in again. It’s in the depths of his eyes, circling his irises, shining in his pupils. Hell, you slowly lose yourself in his soul as he makes love to you, slow and steady.
It’s home. You’ve found home.
Jungkook kisses you, tongue parting your lips open gently until it dances with yours. And he keeps on making love to you, keeps that push and pull of his hips that drags on your inner walls, and you slowly unravel under him again. But this time is different.
It’s not an explosion. It’s a slow build up of emotion rather than pleasure, of feelings passing between your heart and his as they beat in sync. It’s a melody only you and him know, one that wouldn’t make sense to anyone but the two of you. And it doesn’t have to.
Because this is you and him. Stripped to your souls, a connection so deep it has to rattle the stars in the sky above. And if you were outside, casting your eyes up at the constellations again, you’d know that it does. That shooting stars rain for you and Jungkook, like the stars want in on that moment between you and him. So does the wind and the waves and the sea outside.
Jungkook makes love to you for a long time. And you enjoy every second of it, committing it to memory to remember in the next few months. When he comes, Jungkook leans his forehead against yours, grunting softly. You only wrap your legs tighter around his waist, rubbing his back. His dick twitches inside of you as he spills his cum deep in you, and even when he’s done, he doesn’t pull out right away. Like he, too, is committing everything to memory. And you let him have this moment, keep on caressing the skin of his back.
He pecks your lips again, and then whispers, “I honestly think I’m falling in love with you.” He kisses you again, like he didn’t just reveal such a beautiful truth to you. It’s soft and sweet and everything that makes him, him and you, you.
He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. And then, he gives you another beautiful truth.
“I’m not scared anymore.”
And the best thing is, you aren’t either.
Sunday, August 31st
The flight back to Seoul is spent in heavy silence. You’re cuddling Jungkook for most of it, your head on his shoulder as he traces idle shapes on the skin of your arm. When you shiver, goosebumps pricking your skin, he offers you his sweater.
It smells of him, like a comforting hug, and you know you’re not giving it back to him at the end of the flight.
You’ll need it in the months to come.
From where you’re sitting, you can see Jennie and Taehyung cuddling too. They’ve been watching a show together, and you don’t know how they can be focusing on that when… when in just a few hours, the boys will be gone.
The further you go from Jeju, the more you feel like the weekend might have just been an invention from your brain. But the people around you are a reminder that it did happen, that you and Jungkook are indeed falling in love, and that the last few days will forever be cherished in your heart.
No matter what the future holds, you’ll never forget the time you spent in Jeju.
Jungkook sighs, kissing the top of your head. You try to squeeze closer to him, and he wraps his arm around you to hold you against his chest. You know the other members of the group have been looking, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You only have a few hours left with him. And it breaks your heart so much you understand what he meant, last night.
How will you make it through the next year? It feels impossible after last night, after the stars and the love. Yet you have to do it. And you have to be strong for him, especially when you’re the one that convinced him it was worth it to try.
When the wheels of the airplane hit the tarmac in Incheon, you think they might have squeezed your heart on the pavement too, leaving a bloody mess behind. It takes everything in you to disentangle yourself with Jungkook. To get up and follow everyone out of the airplane. Their jet is already waiting for them at another location of the airport, and a small van is already waiting to drive them there.
It’s cruel. This is cruel – they don’t even have time to go back home before leaving for so long. Like the world decided to make their goodbyes for them, and you wonder if they’re all as affected by it as you would be.
You know Jungkook is. His eyes are filled with tears when he looks at you as you stand there on the tarmac, gazes connecting like the two opposite poles of magnets. It’s a pull so strong you don’t know how he’ll be able to leave.
“So, this is it,” he lets out.
A lump grows in your throat, so big it gets harder to breathe.
“Well, not really,” you say, chuckling. It sounds more like you’re choking, and you blink away the sudden wetness in your eyes. “We’ll be talking the second you land.”
Jungkook nods, lips pulled in a taut line. “We will.”
He steps closer to you, ignoring the members moving to the car, Jennie and Taehyung lingering behind too. Minha gazes at you from the van, her features sad, but you ignore her to focus on the man in front of you instead.
“Thank you for everything,” he says, voice choked.
“Stop,” you reply, slapping his chest. “You sound like you’re breaking up.”
A tear rolls on his cheek as he chuckles. You wipe it for him, a single drop of water that holds so much emotion you think you might pass through the Earth’s crust.
“I’m not,” he reassures you. “I wouldn’t be able to. Not after last night.”
Your heart swells in your chest, tripling in size for the man you’ve been falling in love with.
“Good,” you say, voice just as watery as his. “Damn, why are we crying?”
He laughs, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight to his chest. “I’ll miss you,” he whispers.
You hide your face in his neck, inhaling deep. He still smells like his bodywash, and you make a mental note to go buy the same one he uses.
“I’ll miss you too.”
His lips find the top of your head, and you both remain unmoving for so long you tell yourself the van left without him. But it’s still there when Jungkook pulls away from the hug, his hands remaining on your shoulders as he looks down at you with those big, sad eyes of his.
Who knew goodbyes could hurt so bad?
“You’ll have fun, yeah?” you ask.
He chuckles as another tear falls on his cheek. “I will. Not as much as if you were there.”
“I bet you’ll be too busy to even think of me,” you say. It was meant to be reassuring, but it actually scares you so much you start crying.
“No, no,” Jungkook says, pulling you into his chest again. “Don’t cry. I can’t leave if you’re crying.”
“Jungkook!” Namjoon yells from the van.
“Just a second!” Jungkook yells back, and he rubs your back, swaying you side to side. “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he tells you, voice barely over a whisper. “It’ll be like no time has passed.”
You nod, pulling back to wipe your tears. “I can’t wait.”
Your gazes meet again, and Jungkook offers you a smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but you can tell he’s trying. Trying to be reassuring despite the fact that you’ll be apart for so long at the beginning of your relationship.
“Me too,” he says.
Somebody else screams Jungkook’s name, and you know he has to go. They sound impatient, and lest you have a heart attack right here and then, there’s nothing you can do to keep him from leaving.
“I’ll be thinking of you all the way there,” he says.
The words swirl around you like butterflies before settling into your heart.
“I’ll be waiting for your text.”
He smiles again, a sad smile you wish you didn’t have to be a witness to. It’s nostalgic, like this truly might be the end. But you’ll try… right?
“Fuck,” he curses, and then he’s cupping your cheeks and kissing you deeply.
The world fades, and it’s just you and him for a time. It’s short, too short, and then he’s stepping back, smiling that stupid sad smile again. You smile back, or at least you try to as he takes a few steps back. He gives you a nod, his throat bobbing on a swallow, and then he’s turning around, jogging to the van.
He turns to look at you when he’s in, but the manager shuts the door behind him before you’ve truly been able to wave him goodbye. You almost break down, but Jennie pulls you into a hug despite the tears on her own cheeks.
“It’s okay,” she tells you. “They’ll come back faster than we’ll even realize.”
You hope she’s right. And she should be, as she’s already gone through this before. So you steel yourself, pulling away from her hug to wipe the new tears on your cheeks. And then you look at the van as it disappears in the distance, turning past a wall, and you think your heart left with him.
What if it never comes back?
Prev | Next
☆☆☆☆☆
i forgot how angsty this got oops i would like to sincerely apologize to all of you guys... hope you still enjoyed tho :') tell me what you think!
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
☆summary: when you move to Seoul to do some research on your upcoming book, your life gets tangled with the city's celebrity scene. It leads to you crossing paths with Jeon Jungkook, whose confusing behaviour convinces you that he hates you. Only, you might have misread his intentions from the beginning...
☆pairings: drummer!Jungkook x writer!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter has mature content)
☆genre: enemies (annoyances?) to lovers!au, celebrity!au, rockstar!au, smut, angst (make it dramatic), fluff
☆warnings: cursing, taehyung being a dick, some mentions of sara, explicit content: jerking off, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), nipple play, clit play, creampie
☆word count: 8.5k
☆a/n: hope you guys enjoy this new chapter <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for being my perfect beta reader again, you are the best and i'm forever thankful for you <3
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
Iris, The Goo Goo Dolls
☆☆☆☆☆
Thursday, August 7th
Jungkook hasn’t been in such a good mood in months. No, his good moods usually never linger around, but he’s been feeling like he’s on cloud nine for weeks now.
Ever since their last concert, and the time he got to spend with you. Which isn’t too much of it, as he’s been busy with rehearsals for their upcoming tour along with filming for music videos, but he still made time for you at least once a week.
He’d want more, always, but his schedule doesn’t really allow it. So instead, he enjoys the rare moments he gets with you, and keeps them tucked close to his heart whenever you’re apart. They’re little pearls of time, precious moments he knows he’ll never want to forget.
He hasn’t watched Sara stream in the last three weeks. Hasn’t really even thought about her at all, choosing to Facetime you instead when he has a short break in his day. You always pick up with a smile on your face and bright eyes that make being busy annoying, but also so worth it.
“Let’s run that one again,” the director of the music video says, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He blinks back to reality, the lights of the set almost blinding where he’s standing, and he gives a quick nod to the director, though it goes unnoticed as he’s already instructing Jimin and Taehyung as to what he wants them to do.
“The rest of you, just do the same thing,” the director then yells, and he returns behind the camera as the crew repositions themselves for filming to resume.
They’re filming a scene for the music video, the only one in which they’re actually playing their respective instruments. The rest of the music video is more of a story telling how they made it through the military service and the time they spent apart from each other, and Jungkook already knows that the fans will love it.
In truth, he thinks the fans will love the new album a lot more than they loved what they put out in the past. Maybe because their music has grown in time with the fans, and the subjects they now speak of are more mature, things that adults can relate to more than teenagers.
The director does the countdown to resume filming, and the track of the song blasts from the speakers around the makeshift scene. They start playing again, the camera focusing more on Jimin and Taehyung, yet Jungkook gives his all in the back, much like he always does lately.
You’ve given him an infinite well of energy, and it shows in everything they do. He’s always the first one there and the last one to leave, if only because he wants to impress you. Wants you to remember the days of being a fan of the group, if only because he wants you to love the music as much as he does.
He wants you in every aspect of his life, and though it should be scary, he thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever. For years, he’s stopped himself from building something with someone else in fear that Sara would come back, which she always did, but now he knows he’d tell her to leave if she tried to come back.
Hell, he’s never replied to the message she sent him after their concert, and she hasn’t reached out again, so he doubts she’ll ever come back anyway. He’s finally free of her, and now all he has to do is enjoy you.
He’s seeing you tomorrow. They have two days off before returning to rehearsals on Sunday, and though you’re busy until the early evening, he’ll get to see you tomorrow night, and then you’ll spend Saturday together.
He really can’t fucking wait.
They end up redoing the scene seven more times after that take, the director wanting to film each of them individually, too, as to have tiny tidbits of all of them sprinkled through the big thing. It could be annoying, exhausting even, yet Jungkook feels excited as they do so, if only because he knows they have a break after, and he’ll text you to ask about how your meeting with your editor went.
Apparently, they asked you to rewrite the ending of the book, and you seemed extremely bummed about it the last time you mentioned it. But Jungkook encouraged you, and he knows you’ve been working hard at it over the last two weeks.
“Cut!” the director finally yells, ending the final tape they needed, and Jungkook gets up, stretching.
A set assistant walks out with water bottles she hands to all of them, and Jungkook grabs his with a smile on his lips, drinking deeply as she moves along to Yoongi and Namjoon. He’s chugged half of it when Taehyung swears loudly, almost making him choke.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jimin asks Taehyung, who just throws his water bottle on the floor, storming away.
Jimin meets Jungkook’s gaze as an awkward atmosphere fills the set, and Jungkook winces, before running after his friend.
Taehyung is halfway to the dressing room when Jungkook catches up to him. Taehyung’s on his phone, eyes cast downwards to look at the screen, and Jungkook spies the name of Jennie at the top of the conversation Taehyung is looking at.
They’ve been having a rocky few days, some ghosts from their past haunting them – Jennie, asking Taehyung for more attention as she feels left out of his life and Taehyung, asking for space to concentrate on their busy schedule.
It’s always been an issue between the two of them, Taehyung never being the best at balancing work and personal life. They used to get in arguments about it all the time before Taehyung broke up the week before he enlisted, but Jungkook reckons the issue caught up to them regardless.
“You good?” Jungkook hesitantly asks as they reach the dressing room.
Taehyung simply scoffs, not bothering to say anything, and he walks into the room, closing the door in Jungkook’s face.
Not one to be deterred by his friend’s shitty mood, Jungkook walks in, leaving the door wide open as he folds his arms on his chest.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jungkook asks.
“Nothing,” Taehyung replies, his tone clipped.
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow in disbelief, leaning against the door frame. “Got in an argument with Jennie again?”
“Again?” Taehyung repeats, and then he scoffs. “So she’s talked to you already?”
It sounds like an accusation, and Jungkook just remains silent as he stares down his friend. Taehyung turns around, cursing under his breath, and he pulls on a chair before sitting on it.
“You really need to choose who your friend’s with here.”
“We’re adults, Tae,” Jungkook carefully says. “Let’s act like it.”
It clearly was the wrong thing to say, because Taehyung gets up, stalking towards Jungkook. “What the fuck did you just tell me?”
For a moment, Jungkook is afraid Taehyung will punch him, and so he chooses to remain silent, just holding his friend’s gaze. That seems to work better, as Taehyung shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“Shit, sorry,” Taehyung apologizes. “I just can’t believe we’re fighting over this again.”
He looks around, and then sighs deeply, returning to the chair where he sat before. Jungkook follows him, sitting on the chair next to it, and he just looks at his friend’s profile as he’s looking at his phone.
“I don’t know what to tell her anymore,” Taehyung finally says a minute later, sounding far too defeated. “I feel like I’ll never be good enough for her.”
Jungkook’s brows knit together, confusion sweeping through him. “What do you mean?”
Taehyung meets his gaze. “She always wants more. Feels like who I am right now is not enough.”
Jungkook pulls at his piercings, tilting his head to the side. “Before I say anything, I’ll say that she in fact has not talked to me.”
But she talked to you, and you talked to him, but Taehyung doesn’t need to know that.
“So I don’t know if what I’ll say is fully accurate, but I think she just wants you to make the effort to see her more.”
“I did when I had time!” Taehyung scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know how fucking busy we’ve been these last weeks. I don’t have time to hang out.”
“We’re off tomorrow,” Jungkook points out. “Have you planned to see her?”
Taehyung shuts his eyes, rolling his shoulders. “I have a shooting for a commercial tomorrow.”
Shit.
“But I said I’d go to hers and bring take out after.”
“That’s good,” Jungkook says encouragingly. “Why are you upset, then?”
“She said she’s busy. And that she wants to see each other on Saturday instead, but I’m supposed to hang out with the Wooga guys.”
Jungkook tenses, because the Wooga guys include Park Seojoon, Sara’s now boyfriend. Taehyung completely misses his discomfort, clearly too deep in his own.
“Should they uh… really be a priority right now?”
The affronted look Taehyung throws his way makes Jungkook want to disappear through the floor. “Listen, I know you don’t like Seojoon because of Sara, but they’re still my close friends.”
Jungkook raises his hands in defense. “That is not what I meant.”
“Whatever.” There’s a tense silence, and then Taehyung sighs again. “I told her it’s tomorrow night or nothing, and she sent me a paragraph to complain about how I don’t prioritize her.”
He doesn’t. In Jungkook’s honest opinion, Taehyung does not prioritize Jennie at all, but he doesn’t know how to communicate that to his friend without it becoming an argument.
Namjoon would be better at this than he is.
“Well then…” Jungkook trails off, not knowing what to say. “I could try to talk to her.”
“And tell her what?”
Jungkook shrugs, glancing behind himself as he hears the scuffing of shoes by the door. It’s Jimin and Hoseok, who both look like they were ready to fight if needed.
“That you love her,” Jungkook simply replies. “And that you both are flawed, but if you got together again, it means you can overcome hurdles together. Just gotta compromise.”
“Exactly what I said earlier,” Jimin pipes in. “Just plan something elaborate next weekend, and go sleep over during the week. Doesn’t she live closer anyway?”
Taehyung remains silent for a few seconds, before muttering, “She does.”
“Then it’s easy,” Jimin adds. “Tell her you can go sleep at hers next week and that you’re taking her out on a date on Saturday.”
Taehyung does not look like he wants to do that, yet he gives a curt nod. “Okay.”
Jimin and Jungkook exchange a look, both sensing that Taehyung is probably not going to do that at all, but before they can say anything, Namjoon appears in the door frame.
“We’re going to get samgyeopsal.”
It probably was meant to be an invitation, but Namjoon doesn’t say anything else, just knocking on the door frame once before turning back the way he came. They all follow him out of the dressing room, from the instincts of the years when Namjoon would order them around as the leader of the group – even though he’s the oldest, Seokjin never really wanted to lead.
And though he tries to talk to his older friend again as they’re finishing to eat some time later, Taehyung leaves before Jungkook has a chance to.
It stresses Jungkook out more than it should.
Friday, August 8th
You want to bash your head in the wall. In truth, you want to jump out the window – not actually, just as an euphemism. But if you have to write a single other sentence for this book…
You can’t seem to make the end of the book work again. You feel like it worked perfectly well as it was, but apparently it didn’t. The editor didn’t like that the mob boss died. Said it was lazy writing, that he should not sacrifice himself for the main character. But it just made sense – he wasn’t directly involved in the main character’s father’s death, but he felt responsible for it. And now you don’t know how to end it anymore. The book’s themes feel too dark to have it end with the main character and the mob boss falling in love.
But they did. It sort of happened on its own, when they were at a poker game where you revealed that the police officer was actually involved with a ring of criminals unrelated to the mob boss. They were the ones to eliminate her father when he got too close to finding out the truth about them after the mob boss sent him on their trail. The poker game ended in a shooting where the mob boss protects the main character, getting shot in the shoulder by the police officer.
Which led to them falling in love. They fell in love as she stitched the wound for him, and you think it was always meant to end that way. She was always meant to fall in love with the dark man and his sleeve of tattoos…
But, the editor does not want him dead. So you can’t kill him, and you don’t know how to keep him alive. Because the police officer and his goons storm the mob boss’s house at an auction dinner, and the chaos that ensues leads to him jumping in front of the main character to protect her from getting killed by the police officer.
Or maybe… Maybe he could still jump in front of her. Maybe he could protect her and get injured without dying. It might feel redundant as he’s done it already, but it could become something the main character teases him about.
She could tease him about how he’s always catching bullets for her. How he should learn to have a survival instinct, and he could tell her that his only instinct is towards her. That he doesn’t care if he lives or dies, as long as he gets to be with her when the end comes.
It’s romantic. You know you’ll have to figure out the conversation more for it to flow naturally, but it’s a start. So you get to work, rewriting the scene from the moment the police officer and his men burst into the ballroom of the house. It’s packed with action, with shorter sentences to make the readers feel out of breath, like they’re in the middle of the action too…
When the mob boss is bleeding out on the floor, your fingers pause, hovering over the keyboard of your laptop. And then you laugh. You laugh, because you know what should happen. It’s so clear now, like you should have figured it out earlier…
The main character picks up the mob boss’s pistol. Takes aim at the police officer, who raises his hands and tells her, "Sweetheart, you don’t want to do this”. But she does. Oh, she really does, and she shoots him right between the eyes, killing him with no regrets.
And then she’s with the mob boss, pressing a hand on his wound, and he tells her she’s his angel. She kisses him in the chaos surrounding them, and then his second helps to carry him out. They go down a dusty staircase usually used by the staff of the house, and they escape through the night.
You finish the chapter, sitting back in your chair as you fold your arms on your chest. You reread it, feeling satisfied enough that you send it to your agent to see what she thinks, and if she agrees with this direction. Mostly, to ask if she believes you should keep going, or if the editor will once more call your writing lazy.
Once the email is crafted and sent, you finally allow yourself to go upstairs, where you left your phone so you wouldn’t be distracted while you write. And you know you would have had reasons to be distracted – Jungkook is off today, and he said he’d send you pictures of him working out.
He’s done that a bunch over the last few weeks, and it’s been driving you insane in all the best ways possible. Almost as much as the moments you got to spend with him, where he showed you just how much he knows how to touch you already.
It’s insane. You’ve never had a connection with anyone like this before, like it’s more natural than the wind and the rain and the sky, yet being with Jungkook, laying with him, feels more natural than all those things combined.
You sit on your mattress as you get upstairs, reaching for your phone on the other side of it. It was face down, volume off to make sure it wouldn’t disturb your writing and you grab it, turning it in your hand to take a look at the screen. Your heart drops in your chest as you see you have five missed calls from Jennie, along with a dozen of messages.
Jungkook texted you, too, but you ignore his messages in favour of opening the conversation thread with Jennie.
[2:34 pm] Jennie✨: babe
[2:34 pm] Jennie✨: tae said he needs a break
[2:35 pm] Jennie✨ i can’t believe this shit
You quickly read through the other messages, all of them growing increasingly more desperate and sad. She’s freaking out, visibly so, and your heart breaks in your chest for her. So you call her, but she sends you right to voicemail, though a text message comes in almost instantly.
[4:45 pm] Jennie✨: am crying
[4:46 pm] Jennie✨: can’t believe i lost him again
[4:46 pm] You: are you at home?
It takes a moment for Jennie to reply, and you’re already grabbing a raincoat and an umbrella from the closet by the door when her reply comes in.
[4:50 pm] Jennie✨: yes
[4:51 pm] You: omw
*****
Jennie is a mess. She’s been a mess, sobbing in your arms for the better part of the last hour while Jungkook and Mingyu have just been sitting there like they’re going through a nightmare.
You didn’t know Jungkook was here. But Jennie admitted that she called Mingyu when you didn’t pick up, and Jungkook and Mingyu were together, so they both came to the rescue. You reckon they seem like they’ve been doing a shit job at cheering her up, but they’re men.
Men suck with emotions.
“He just said he needs to think about it all,” Jennie says for what feels like the hundredth time. “Again. He always does this shit.”
“And you always go back to him.” Mingyu’s words earn him a glare from you and a punch in the shoulder from Jungkook. “What! It’s true.”
“I thought he would have changed after the military,” Jennie says, glaring at him through her red eyes and swollen nose.
“He’s been stressed”, Jungkook says, which only makes Jennie glare at him, too. “He’s shutting me out too.”
“But not his stupid friends.” Jennie sniffs, glancing at her phone as it lights up.
It’s not a message from Taehyung. You know it because she visibly deflates, and a rush of fresh tears roll down her cheeks.
“Bet he’s with them right now,” she adds. “Laughing and shit when he fucking broke my heart again.”
“Babe…” you let out, grabbing a tissue from the box sitting between the two of you. You dab her cheeks, and she just starts crying harder the second your gazes meet, so you pull her in again, letting her cry on your shoulder. “Deep breaths,” you gently say as you rub her back.
Mingyu says something behind you in Korean – you recognize the words for ice cream – and Jungkook replies in the affirmative.
“I’ll be back,” Mingyu then says, and you glance at him.
He offers you a weak smile, and then he leaves, disappearing down the hallway that leads to the front door of Jennie’s spacious condo. You return your attention to Jennie, who takes a shuddering breath in before leaning back from the hug so she can lean on the backrest of the couch instead, looking at you.
“I don’t feel like eating ice cream,” she tells you, like you’re the one that suggested it.
“He’s just trying to help,” you gently say, and you meet Jungkook’s gaze quickly. “Is there something you’d rather have?”
“A baseball bat,” she grumbles. “So I can beat some sense into Taehyung.”
“Woah,” Jungkook lets out. “Let’s not resort to violence here.”
“Let’s throw eggs on his house,” Jennie adds, ignoring Jungkook. “I could slash his fucking tires.”
You snort. “Period. I’ll help.”
Jungkook sighs, before weakly saying, “I’ll drive you guys.”
That earns a smile from Jennie, and you look at it like it’s a rainbow after the worst storm of the century.
“He’ll kill you,” Jennie says.
Jungkook shrugs. “He can try.”
She snorts, before sighing loudly. And then she looks between the two of you, and her eyes grow silver again. “To think y’all are dating when I’m getting dumped.”
She’s crying again, and you put a hand on her forearm, squeezing softly.
“Hey, hey, he just asked for a break, he didn’t break up.” You meet Jungkook’s big doe eyes after the words leave your mouth, and you wet your lips. “And Jungkook and I are just friends. Nothing more.”
It hurts him. He recoils, immediately frowning, his big eyes narrowing to unhappy slits. But then you nod your head towards Jennie, trying to communicate with your eyes what you can’t say in front of her.
Jungkook doesn’t seem like he understands for a few seconds, but then his face lights up with comprehension, and he says, “Yeah, we’re just friends.”
Jennie deflates even more. “I want you guys to like each other.”
She’s pouting, and you chuckle at the sight. “Friends like each other.”
She remains silent, just taking a deep breath as she grabs a tissue to wipe her cheeks once more. She throws it on the pile of used tissues on the floor, and you glance at Jungkook again.
He looks pensive, eyes downcast, and he doesn’t look up to meet your gaze. You hope he’s not upset with your words, and that he understood you were just trying not to upset Jennie.
The last thing she needs right now is you two rubbing in her face how you’ve been standing in front of a blooming relationship.
At least that’s what you think it is. It surely feels like it, and though you’re still wary about Jungkook not being over his ex, he hasn’t mentioned her since that day after the concert. And the praises he reserves for you whenever he’s balls deep in you…
You feel your cheeks burning, and you push the thought away, clearing your throat.
“Can we watch Mean Girls?” Jennie asks.
Right as she says the words, you hear the front door unlocking, and Mingyu strolls into the living room a few seconds later with a tub of ice cream in a seethrough plastic bag.
“I got the goods,” he says proudly.
Jennie sighs, and then motions towards the kitchen. “Go get bowls.”
He does so, and you hear him looking through drawers and cupboards for a few seconds before he returns. Meanwhile, Jungkook busies himself with setting up the movie, and soon enough, the four of you sit together on the floor in front of the couch so that you can eat while watching.
You’re halfway through when the front door bell rings, and Jennie throws a look in that direction, frowning as she pauses the movie.
“Did you invite someone else?” she asks.
You shake your head no, both the guys replying in the negative, too.
“Weird,” she lets out.
“I’ll get it,” Jungkook quickly says, and he gets up from where he was sitting next to you, jogging to the front door.
You all listen, looking in the direction he went, and Jennie jumps to her feet when a baritone voice is heard.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
It’s Taehyung asking, and Jennie runs out of the living room. You and Mingyu both get up to follow her, though you stop when you can see the door.
Jennie has her arms thrown around Taehyung’s neck, and he’s holding a bouquet of red roses while Jungkook stands to the side, visibly trying to avoid the glare Taehyung is throwing his way.
Taehyung’s gaze shifts to you, and the daggers lessen as he catches sight of you.
“We were just hanging out,” Jungkook replies then, motioning over his shoulder at you and Mingyu.
Taehyung hands him the bouquet, and Jungkook grabs it, throwing you a confused look. And then Taehyung is pushing Jennie back until he can close the door behind himself before he wraps his arm around her waist, hiding his face in her neck.
You wave Jungkook over, but he just stupidly stands there for a moment, until Mingyu says his name in a hushed whisper that still cuts through the air. Jungkook startles, and then he turns and walks over to you guys.
“What sh–” he starts, but you put a finger on your mouth to tell him to shut up before grabbing his arm and Mingyu’s arm, pulling them towards the kitchen.
And then, thinking better of it, you push them out on the balcony. You follow them, closing the sliding door behind you, and the two men look at you as you turn around.
“Let’s just give them space,” you explain.
“It’s raining,” Mingyu deadpans.
It is. But the balcony is large, and there’s a small roof over part of it that allows you to remain dry.
“We’re okay,” you say, and you glance at Jungkook who’s just looking at the bouquet of roses in his hands.
“He brought her flowers,” he says, and he lets out a small, disbelieving chuckle. “Taehyung fucking brought her flowers.”
He looks up, smiling, to see you and Mingyu looking at him with your brows furrowed in confusion.
“He’s never brought her flowers before,” Jungkook explains. “Guess he figured out he’s a dick.”
“Flowers don’t excuse his fuck ass behaviour,” Mingyu says. “She deserves better.”
“He’ll be better,” Jungkook replies with such quiet conviction that you immediately believe him.
They’re practically brothers, after all. If anyone would know, it’s him.
“Still don’t trust him,” Mingyu says with a slight shake of his head. “Why would he ask for a break and then show up here with flowers a few hours later?”
“He probably realized he was wrong and decided to apologize before it was too late,” you guess. “Which is a good thing.”
“Well, define a good thing. We’re stuck on a balcony in the rain,” Mingyu grumbles. You laugh in time with Jungkook, and Mingyu just looks between the two of you before leaning his head back, looking towards the sky. “I guess there are worse things in life than this.”
“Definitely,” you say.
There are. There are a lot of worse things in life than your friend not actually getting her heart broken today. Relief washes over you, and you really, really hope Jungkook is right. Because Jennie deserves happiness, always, and you know she won’t want it if it doesn’t come from Taehyung.
She loves him too much.
The sliding door opens, and you turn to see Jennie standing there. You spy Taehyung a few steps behind her, his hands in his pockets, and he meets your gaze for barely a second before looking away.
“What are you guys doing out here?” she asks.
“Y/n thought it was best to give you space,” Mingyu explains.
Jennie laughs, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, thanks for that, bubs. But you guys can come in.”
You do so, and there’s an awkward silence while the five of you exchange a look, until you figure someone should say something. So you clear your throat, and say, “Are you okay?”
Jennie gives you a small smile. “I will be.” She looks at Taehyung, and then adds, “Did you guys want to finish the movie?”
“I think I’ll head home,” Mingyu says, scratching the back of his neck. “But I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He then walks closer to Taehyung, and says, “If you hurt her again, I think I’ll kill you.”
“Mingyu!” Jennie bursts out.
He looks over his shoulder, winking at her, and then he walks away. Taehyung remains silent, though you’re pretty sure he clenched his jaw. He takes a deep breath, and then says, “I deserved that.”
“You did,” Jungkook agrees, and he hands the flowers to Jennie. “If you don’t mind, I think Y/n and I will go, too.”
Jennie smiles, looking between the two of you. “Leaving together, I see.”
“We’re neighbours,” you remind her as you narrow your gaze at her, but she ignores it, turning around to grab a vase in a cupboard to put her flowers in.
“I’ll see you at rehearsals on Sunday,” Jungkook tells Taehyung, and he taps his friend on the shoulder.
Taehyung nods and then speaks in Korean. “Yeah. Thank you for the message you sent, by the way. You opened my eyes.”
At least you think that’s what he said with your limited Korean knowledge, though you reckon you’ve been getting a lot better in the last few months after hanging out with all of them for so long.
“Of course, bro,” Jungkook replies, and then he looks over his shoulder to meet your gaze. “You coming?”
“Yes,” you say, but you quickly jog to Jennie, pulling her into a hug. “You need to tell me everything tomorrow,” you tell her in a whisper.
She nods her head. “Will do. Thank you for today.”
“Anytime, girl.” You hug her again. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
*****
Jungkook taps his finger on the wheel in time with the beat of the music, the windshield wiper swiping across the windshield in a quick flurry. It’s hypnotizing, especially as you’re stuck in traffic, and you’ve been silent for most of the ride, looking outside the passenger window.
He glances at you, and you haven’t moved from your position. From this angle, all he sees is your profile, though you turn your head as you sense his gaze on you.
“Everything okay?” Jungkook asks before returning his attention to the world outside as the car in front of you move.
“Yeah”, you let out, and you wet your lips before adding, “You think Taehyung and Jennie will be okay?”
Of course you’d be worried for Jennie. Despite the fact you haven’t been friends for a long time, Jungkook can tell you have grown extremely close to Jennie. Enough so that she chose to call you today, and not Rosé or Lisa.
“I think so,” Jungkook says as he presses his foot on the accelerator, and the car inches forward, slowly, to make sure he doesn’t bump into the car in front. “He would have never come over if he didn’t mean to make it work.”
“Are you sure about that?” you ask.
Jungkook casts you a quick glance. “I am.”
You nod, worrying at your bottom lip as you too look in front of you. The car you’re stuck behind is looking to turn to the left, and Jungkook makes sure there’s no one in his right blind spot before he switches lanes to pass the car.
“What did you tell him anyway?”
Jungkook raises his eyebrows, surprised you understood that as Taehyung did not speak in English. “I told him she would never take him back. That she knows her worth and deserves better than that.”
“You did?” you let out. “Didn’t you say Taehyung is stubborn?”
Jungkook chuckles. “You remember that?” He mentioned it once the last time you hung out, when you mentioned Jennie’s worries about Taehyung being distant. “He really is. But he loves her. He’s stupid about it, but I know he loves her.” He falls silent as they finally are able to roll down the street, traffic seeming to lessen out of nowhere. “He was depressed the whole time they were broken up.”
Your eyes tickle his profile, and Jungkook quickly glances at you before resuming his attention on the street.
“He was?”
Jungkook nods with a sigh. “It was a lot,” he admits. “But he’s been doing so much better now that they’re back together. He just took her for granted.”
“He did,” you agree. “Hopefully he won’t anymore.”
“Don’t think he will.”
You don’t say anything to that, and a new song starts on the radio, one Jungkook knows you love from hearing you humming it a couple of times. He turns the volume up, and you start bobbing your head along to the beat, a smile splitting your face open.
It’s like his heart expands in his chest at the sight, with warmth and softness and something just a tad scary, and he can’t help the smile that grows on his lips too. It remains there for the whole duration of the song, even when you start singing just a little off key.
He laughs then, and you glare at him, but then you’re taken by the bridge of the song, and Jungkook can’t help but sing with you. At that you’re smiling again, eyes shining and fuck, Jungkook wonders if he’ll ever forget this moment. It seems so simple, yet… Yet you look so happy, careless, and there’s a gentle aura around you that feels like the glow of the sun. You’re glowing, shining from within, a fallen star he has the chance to see in the flesh.
And though you sing just a little off key, there’s something raw about it, an authentic quality to your voice that few people could reproduce. He’d listen to you sing all day, even if he knows you get insecure when you realize he’s listening.
Indeed, every time you’ve sung in front of him before, you end up turning deep crimson and telling him to stop looking at you. He just can’t help himself – you’re so damn beautiful.
You finally reach the boulevard by your place, and Jungkook drives past your building, heading to his house instead. It doesn’t take too long until you get there, another song playing on the radio that you seem to enjoy just as much as the other.
With the torrential rain, the street outside his house is thankfully empty, and Jungkook is able to pull into the tunnel that leads to his underground parking without anyone looking his way, or running away. It’s such a relief he feels the tension lifting from his shoulders, and he’s able to breathe better as he closes the garage door behind the car while you’re going down the ramp.
Soon enough, he parks his car in the usual spot, and you both get out, heading towards the staircase.
But Jungkook doesn’t let you get to it. No, he’s been dying to kiss you since you got to Jennie’s place, so he grabs your wrist, spinning you around into his arms. He catches you, one arm going around your waist while his other reaches up, his hand grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.
You don’t resist, as if you expected the kiss, and your lips part open on a soft inhale as his mouth finds yours. He takes the opportunity to gently tease your tongue with his, your hands grabbing at his oversized shirt to pull him closer, and he sighs against your lips.
You taste sweet. Sweet and soft and everything in between. And he kisses you languidly, letting your taste fill his mouth, dizzying his head. Mind spinning with you, Jungkook pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, and he takes a breath.
“Just friends, huh?” he lets out.
You chuckle. “You know I just said that because I didn’t want to upset Jennie.”
He doesn’t reply anything to that, instead pressing another kiss on the pillowy softness of your mouth, and you’re quick to deepen it, tilting your head to the side as one of your hands gets lost in the hair at the back of his head, pulling just enough for him to feel a shot of desire going down his spine.
He likes when you pull his hair. Likes when you dig your nails in the skin of his back, or when you nip at his neck. He likes the gentle pain that comes with it, as it mixes with pleasure. He’s always been like this, but it’s heightened with you.
He’s aware of you in ways he barely comprehends, and he doubts he’s supposed to understand. Instead, he just enjoys it, lets it be. It’s easy – you’re starting to become the oxygen in his lungs, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
He pulls away again, his breath shorter this time, a little ragged as he whispers your name. You say his back in that soft, breathy voice of yours that makes him crave your body against his, under his, and Jungkook is back on your mouth, though it’s fiercer this time.
There’s far too much desire in his bloodstream now for him to be able to hold back. Not when he held back all evening, even as he sat next to you during the movie. The faint smell of your perfume was making him feel lightheaded, but it’s nothing compared to the spinning in his mind now that he gets to touch you, to taste you.
You’re his favourite drug. He gets drunk on you, on the way your lips move against his, as his hands lift your shirt just enough to slip underneath so that he can feel the warmth of your skin in his palms. It’s inebriating, and fuck he’ll never get enough of it.
He’ll never get enough of you and of how a single kiss of yours feels like he’s been struck by lightning. He’ll never get enough of how your hands on him make him feel like a star about to burst, a supernova waiting to happen. He’s so energized in your presence he thinks sleep becomes futile.
But maybe that’s just because he wants to fuck you all night long. He’s so greedy when it comes to you – all he can do is hope his greed won’t become his downfall.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out again as he pulls away, and you tilt your head to the side, his lips coasting at the side of your throat.
“Y/n,” he says in the same tone.
You curse, and he knows he needs you right now. Knows there’s no chance he’ll make it all the way to his bedroom, yet he still bends down to pick you up. You let out a startled yelp, yet wrap your arms around his neck quickly.
He walks upstairs, pushing the door open with his back so he can carry you to the couch. It’s dark, only the motion sensor light by the garage door lit up, and he gently sets you down before grabbing his phone to quickly turn on the lights by the bar.
He wants to see you. Needs to see you as he takes you.
He looks down at you, at the way your hair is like a halo on the couch under you. You’re breathing heavily as your gazes connect, and Jungkook takes his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. He doesn’t even check to see where it lands, too busy contemplating you as he climbs on top of you to find your mouth again.
Your swollen lips taste just as heavenly as they did downstairs, and he feels his dick straining against the fabric of his pants. He shifts, inadvertently rubbing against you as he does so, and he groans in your mouth. It unleashes you, your hand going between the two of you so you can cup him.
“You’re already so hard,” you say with a gasp of surprise. “So fucking hard.”
“Baby,” he lets out, groaning in pleasure, yet he needs more. “You know I’m always hard for you.”
You bite at your lower lip, and he leans down to suck your lip out of your teeth’s prison, which makes you moan softly. It’s a barely-there sound, but Jungkook still bucks his hips, seeking friction.
Your hand leaves him for a few seconds, though you quickly push it into his pants, under his boxers. The moment you wrap your fingers around him, Jungkook moans, his head falling into the crook of your neck. He smells your perfume there, and he gently bites at the skin of your neck before sucking on it.
You stroke him, your grip tight, though it seems like you’re struggling because of the angle and of his clothes. So Jungkook kneels back between your legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants. You’re impatient, pushing them down just enough so that you can rub his dick through the fabric of his boxers, and then you push those down too. His dick stands tall, leaking precum, and you rub your thumb over his slit before spreading his precum on his length.
Jungkook shuts his eyes, taking in the sensations, and he throws his head back as you start jerking him off at a steady pace. He wants to fuck into your hand, if only so that he can get more, but he knows if he does, you’ll stop your ministrations to tease him.
You’re bratty. He loves it, likes to tame you until you’re a mess under him, but he doesn’t have the patience for it right now. Not when his balls are already tightening and you’ve barely even touched him yet.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he praises, and he looks down at you to see you’re looking up at him with lust spilling out of your gaze, on your features, like the way you’re touching him is making you feel just as good as it makes him feel.
Fucking downright sinful, you are. He loves it.
“Baby,” he lets out. “I want to fuck you, mmh?”
You smirk. “Don’t like my hand wrapped around your dick, Jungkook?”
He shuts his eyes with a smile on his lips, shaking his head. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then let me have my fun, alright?”
And then you’re letting go of his dick just so that you can spit in your hand before grabbing him again. None of his fantasies have been able to convey just how hot that simple gesture is, and Jungkook knows he can’t wait any longer.
He needs to be buried in you. Needs to feel your tightness sucking him in. So he grabs your hand, pushing it over your head along with the other so he can hold your wrists in place, and then he unbuttons your pants, pushing them down your legs.
“Let me…” you trail off as he struggles with it, and he lets you go, getting up to finish taking off his pants and boxers, too.
He watches you undress, though you keep your shirt on. He doesn’t mind – he’ll push it up so he can see your perfect breasts as he fucks you anyway. So he kneels between your legs again, gently caressing up and down your thighs, your soft skin like satin under his touch. You just look at him through your lashes, lips slightly parted, and he needs to kiss you again.
So he bends down, captures your mouth in a sweet embrace, and he grabs his dick to align it with your entrance. With the lack of foreplay, he knows he’ll have to take his time, and though he can grow impatient with you, he knows he has all evening.
And tomorrow, too.
So Jungkook nudges your entrance, rubs his tip on your clit, and when you softly moan in his mouth, he starts pushing in, slowly. One inch at a time. You’re tight around him, yet so, so wet, and so he slips right in, up until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Your walls flutter around him, and he grunts, though he doesn’t disconnect from the kiss.
There’s something too perfectly intimate about kissing you while inside of you. It makes him forget about the world outside, about everything that led to this moment in time. It’s just you. It’s just been you for a few weeks now, he reckons, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
After what feels like a short eternity, Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. He slowly pulls back, and then pushes all the way in, the breathy sound you let out like the first sip of water after being lost in the desert for days. It’s heavenly, and he’s convinced you’re an angel.
You’re his angel, sent to save him from this existence.
“Jungkook,” you whisper, and he realizes he hasn’t moved for a few heartbeats too long.
He’s just been taking in the feeling of you, getting distracted by it. He swallows, his throat feeling somewhat dry, and then he starts moving again, slowly. His motions are steady, deep, and he feels all of you along all of him. Your walls suck him in, and it feels so good he knows he could come like this.
He’s always on the verge of coming when he’s with you. You turn him on too much, but he wants to please you first. Only ever allows himself to come when he knows you had your fun. So he focuses on you, on the way you react to everything he does, and soon he’s picking up his pace, kneeling back between your legs as your soft moans start growing louder.
It’s pornographic. He wishes he could record you for when he touches himself, but he’s got a good imagination, and so far it hasn’t disappointed.
“You feel so good,” he praises you. Your walls tighten around him, and he bites the inside of his lip to keep from coming. “So fucking good.”
He opens his eyes – he doesn’t even remember closing them – and he looks down at the spot where your bodies are connected. His dick glistens with your juices every time he pulls his hips back, and it’s a sight he’s committed to memory already. So, instead, he looks up to your features, to the creases of pleasure on your forehead. He picks up the pace even more, and your hands find his thighs, your nails scratching at his skin inadvertently.
“You take me so well, baby.” He grunts as your walls grow even tighter before loosening. “Love to fuck you.”
“You’re so big.”
Your words are a whine, and Jungkook feels his balls tighten so hard it takes everything in him not to come then and there. But he manages to hold it in, and he takes a deep breath as he slows down the rhythm.
“Wanna try another position?” he asks.
He’s come to realize you’re not the biggest fan of missionary. He doubts you’d tell him, but he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t make you come like this.
It’s much easier when you’re on top, or when you’re lying on your side. This time, you end up on top of him, and Jungkook plants his feet into the couch to be able to fuck up into you as you ride him, your head thrown back in bliss.
He pushes your shirt up, hands caressing up your sides before moving forward to your breast. You’re not wearing a bra, and your nipples are perked high. He sits up, feeling the need to taste you, and he licks at one of the sensitive buds, rolling the other between his fingers. You keep fucking yourself on him as he does so, and you’re so wet he feels your juices dripping down his balls, most likely staining the couch underneath. It’s leather, though. He’ll have no problem with cleaning it after. So instead of worrying about it, he slides a hand between your two bodies, finding your clit. It’s swollen with arousal, and he rubs at it gently, trying to make sure to not put too much pressure. You cry out his name still, and your pussy grows so tight he thinks you might push him out.
But then you grow limp, your head falling in the crook of his neck as you stop moving, and your walls spasm all around his dick. He raises his head from your breast, kissing the side of your face. You come for a while, and he rubs your back all through it, up until you raise your head too, immediately aiming for his mouth. It’s a sloppy kiss, and then you’re moving again, going up and down on his dick.
You’ll be the death of him.
You push him down, the blissed out look on your face enough to make him let you take over, and then you’re fucking yourself on him, though this time, you’re focusing on his pleasure. Your hand rests around his neck in a loose embrace, and he helps supporting your weight with his hands on your ass. His eyes focus on your breasts as they bounce with the motions, and it’s entrancing, so much so that he feels his balls tighten again, and this time, he lets himself go.
This time, he comes deep inside of you, his mind soaring to the sky as you barely even slow down, the stimulation so thorough he loses grasp on reality for a moment. He only comes to his senses when you move up until his dick falls on his lower abdomen, his cum spilling out of you. His mind is spinning too much for him to register the view, and then you’re putting a hand under you as if to stop the flow.
Jungkook chuckles, looking down at himself. He came a lot, and there is nothing to clean himself with here.
“What’s funny?” you ask.
He shuts his eyes, his lips spreading in a lopsided grin. “Nothing. I just feel… amazing.”
You press a quick kiss on his lips. “So do I.”
Jungkook meets your gaze. “Let’s get cleaned up and then we should order takeout.”
He doesn’t want to waste time cooking right now. Not when he only has this evening and tomorrow with you. After that, it’s getting ready for the album release next week, for the tour and the months away…
His heart drops in his chest.
How will he manage to spend months away from you?
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i'm a little sorry for that ending OOP- hope you guys enjoyed this chapter tho! tell me what you think here
All rights reserved to @oddinary4bts, 2026. Do not copy, repost or translate.
Trigger Warning: 18+, MDNI, mentions of death and drug abuse, use of cocaine and armed weapons, mentions of rape and violent sodomy in court justice, use of smoking and littering outside of public property, private executions
WC: 3116
Synopsis: Hye-Mi explains her family struggles to Soa and how much they value their friendship. Meanwhile, Jong-Doo and Jungkook has been released from prison. They both have separate ideas on how they would enjoy their freedoms except one of them wanted revenge.
Author's Note: I decided to create a warning up there anyways to avoid getting reported.
Chapter Two
The next day…
Author’s P.O.V
Soa and Hyemi went inside a local cafe and sat down near the window facing the entrance. Soa invited Hyemi out for coffee to discuss the relationship between her and her father. To be honest, this is a new territory for Soa. She’s never been good at listening to feelings. Much less discuss it. Her way of expressing her feelings is through training and spar against any opponent who’s willing to put their life on the line while she beats the life out of them.
However, ever since she first started working for Mr. Ko, Hyemi has been very kind and patient with her. She has always been there to assist Soa, even when it was unnecessary. Like the one time Soa had accidentally cut herself in the kitchen, she didn’t feel any pain thanks to her training of learning how to endure the pain. It eventually becomes numb, mind over matter, she tells herself. What surprised her was the concerned look on Hyemi’s face when she saw the cut on Soa’s index finger.
Soa wanted to snag her finger away, telling Hyemi it’s no big deal. Hyemi had noticed it for weeks—the way Soa never flinched, never slowed down, never treated herself with even basic care. The cut was tiny, but the way Soa ignored it made something in Hyemi finally snap. “Please do not dismiss your life as if it has no value. I may not know you personally, but I have seen someone who hates their life so much. They wasted so much of their time with the wrong crowd who don’t value human life.” She sheds a tear. “Whatever you are going through, don’t let it be the reason why you should stay down. You have the will power to get up and fight the negativity and you won’t have to do it alone. I would be willing to help, if you let me.” Since then, the friendship between them grew. Hyemi taught her the humane things about life, trust, and care for the next six months.
“Do you and your father plan to never speak again?” Soa asked, sipping on her black coffee.
Hyemi looks down with a sad expression on her face. “Knowing my father, he probably won’t speak to me until the end of summer. By then, I’ll be at the University studying.” She says, tapping her fingers on the coffee cup.
“I can see that. I have never seen your father so angry before. Not so surprising, considering he was a soldier.”
Hyemi scoffed, “you don’t know the half of it.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.
“His temper is one thing. But at home, he acts more of a soldier than a father figure. I can tolerate his attitude, but my older sister couldn’t. There were times I felt I wanted to blame him for chasing her away. But at the same time, he’s not entirely at fault. She made her own choices after mother died. The drugs, the alcohol, her abusive boyfriend.”
Her expression tightened for a moment, then she exhaled slowly. “Father had tried to help her. I tried to help her. She’s been in and out of rehab for more than three years. In the end, my father gave up on her and focused on his business.” She sighed deeply.
“But you didn’t.” Soa says, tilting her head in concern.
Hyemi slowly shook her head, “I didn’t have the heart to give up on her and I was right not to.”
She fidgets her fingers before starting her story, “over a year ago, she called me and told me about turning her boyfriend in to the police and going to rehab after. I didn’t believe her at first, then the police came knocking at our door. I was lucky enough to open it, and father was out grocery shopping for the restaurant. They told me everything that was going on and I was able to see the whole thing going through. I made sure my father didn't know anything about it because he wanted nothing to do with her. After court, my big sister went to rehab like she promised.” Her voice started to crack towards the end. Her visions blurred as her tears were threatening to come out as she raised head facing Soa. “For the first time in a long time. I finally have my big sister back!” She cried, shedding her tears while she was smiling. “She’s been getting a lot better and we’ve kept contact after that.”
Soa smiled a little and slowly nodded her head with approval. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“A few weeks ago, my sister called me and told me she’ll be released from rehab soon. But the problem is, father doesn’t want her home. So I don’t know how long I can keep up with this lie about my father thinking about it.”
“She can stay with me.” Soa interrupted her.
Her eyes widened with surprise, “W-what? N-No! You don’t have to do that for me!”
“But I want to. It’s the least I could do after everything you and your father did for me.” She says, laying her hand gently over Hyemi’s hand.
Hyemi gasped, covering her mouth with her other hand. She got up and hugged Soa from behind tightly. “Thank you, thank you so much! You are the best!”
“I will tell my big sister right away!” She says, sitting back down. Taking her cellphone out from her front pocket.
* * * * * * *
Later that afternoon…
The front entrance of the prison facility doors had creaked open and out of the shadow was Park Jong-Doo. He leaned his neck back, sniffing the air of freedom that didn’t reek of inmate sweat and other heavy testosterone. He sighed deeply, strolling with his haughty attitude, hands in his pockets, and smiling ear to ear as he exited through the final gate.
“Freedom at least! I have never felt more alive!” He screamed with joy while raising his hands up to the sky.
Then he turned back on his left side, looking at the guards who were not so pleased seeing him released early. Normally the law would have him in prison for drug possession and soliciting prostitutes for fifteen years or more. However, with his connections within the law to bribe a judge and threaten a number of jurors with families, his sentence resulted in a year and six months.
“Thanks for the hospitality, boys! I hope we can keep in touch!” He sent them a taunting salute.
From across the street, there was a black SUV parked next to the curb along with a driver and a few men standing beside him. Most of them were dressed in grunge and punk street wear clothing with heavy piercings and tattoos from head to toe. Some were vaping, others had their sunglasses on to hide their diluted pupils from sniffing cocaine. As he got closer, they all bowed and greeted him respectfully.
Jong-Doo chuckled and clapped his hands while rubbing them. “My boys! What a sight for sore eyes! I hope you guys didn’t celebrate my release without inviting me.” He says, snatching the sunglasses from one of his men.
One of his guys squinted from the bright light and turned away.
Jong-Doo scoffed, “Well that’s a damn shame.” He threw the sunglasses at the guy’s chest.
“No matter, today is a good day! I’m in the mood to get laid anyways. Jerking off in prison isn’t as fun as it used to be.” He says, feeling annoyed.
“I know! There’s this nightclub full of hot foreign women who're looking to get laid.”
Jong-Doo shook his head, “Nah! I know just the whore I want for my pleasure,” he says, taking out his picture of his ex-girlfriend.
“An unfinished business I’ve been wanting to get my hands on for over a year now.” He smirked devilishly.
Before he was about to say anything, one of his guys noticed someone else coming out of the prison gates.
“Hey, look, boss! One of the Bangtan brothers has been released from prison too!” One of the guys said, gesturing his head at the young man across the road from them.
The guys began murmuring…
“Wait, isn’t that Jeon Jungkook?”
“Yeah, I heard he went to the clink for beating somebody to death.”
“Oh really? Who?”
Jong Doo started to feel annoyed by their whispers and yelled, “Does it fucking matter?! Is he your boss?! Or am I?!” He asked, pointing at himself and the young man behind him.
They all flinched at his burst of anger and shook their heads, “You, boss!”
They bowed at him with respect. Jong Doo scoffed at their loyalty, “Get in the car before I have the urge to kill all of you!” He dropped his voice at the end, aware they were still outside the prison walls and unwilling to risk landing back inside.
Before Jong Doo got inside the car, he made one last deadly stare at Jungkook and his brother then drove off.
*REWIND*
Jungkook had finally been released after being in prison for three years. It would have been 25 years to life if it weren’t for his brothers. Unlike Jung Doo, they didn’t need to bribe and threaten people to lighten Jungkook’s sentence. The Bangtan brothers wanted to keep him there to learn his lesson for being rebellious and reckless. Especially the stunt he pulled by beating the bar owner to death over a woman who’s old enough to be his mother. Some say he had an affair with the bar owner’s wife and killed her husband to claim ownership. Others say she seduced him into killing her husband for insurance money. No one knew the truth except Jungkook and his older brothers.
As soon as he crossed the front gates, he saw two of his older brothers leaning on their black jeep. One of them had a stone look and their arms crossed. While the other, smiled joyfully and spread his arms out for his little brother.
“Looks like the golden maknae lives!” One of them said with a mochi‑soft smile.
Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “What’s up, Jimin-hyung?”
Both of them embraced warmly, patting each other on their backs, and released each other right after. Before Jungkook was about to say something, his other hyung beat him to it.
“I hope you learned your damn lesson during your time at the clink,” his other hyung said in a monotone.
“Yes, Taehyung-hyung. I learned my lesson,” Jungkook sighed, annoyingly. “From now on, I’ll mind my own damn business when it comes to marital disputes.”
“Even though the bastard deserved it,” he lowered his voice angrily while gritting his teeth.
“Who gives a damn whether he deserved it or not. We are the Bangtan brothers, not vigilantes for battered women. Besides, his wife deserved just as much.” He pointed out, tilting his head to the side.
Jungkook made a confused look before he was about to ask. It was as if Taehyung knew what he was going to ask, he ‘tsked’ and shook his head in disappointment.
“After you were sent to prison, I went to investigate the incident with Jimin.” He gestured his head at Jimin.
“We caught the woman sleeping with one of her husband’s bouncers. Her luggage was packed and ready to go by the doorway. Along with the money stolen from her husband’s vault.” Taehyung could tell the look of betrayal on Jungkook’s face and sighed deeply as he patted his younger brother’s shoulder.
Jungkook pushed his hand away in anger and glared at him, “I don’t believe you! She swore her loyalty to me before I confronted her husband! She even showed me her scars and bruises!”
“Oh yeah?” Taehyung interrupted him. “Did she swear to you while you were sleeping with her or after?”
“You son of a bitch!” Jungkook gritted his teeth in anger as he was about to punch him, but was immediately blocked by Jimin, who was standing between him and Taehyung.
“Hey! That’s enough!” Jimin says, frowning at both of his younger brothers.
After trying to calm down Jungkook, who’s puffed up with anger, Jimin sighed deeply, “Taehyung is telling the truth, bro.”
“That woman used you to kill her husband to run away with her so-called real lover. There was no remorse in her eyes.” He said, looking at his younger brother pitifully.
Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock, taking a couple of steps back before kicking the ground in anger. “AISH!!”
He dragged in a sharp breath through his nose, shoulders tight, then shoved past them and yanked the car door open, “I’m going to kill that bitch,” he mumbled.
“Whoa! Hold on, bro!” Jimin said as he quickly shut the car door in front of Jungkook.
“Taehyung already took care of her,” Jimin said, trying to assure him.
Jungkook glared at Jimin, “Hyung!“
“Jungkook-ah!” Jimin interrupted him. “You know I would never lie when I’m serious,” he said, giving him a serious look.
Jungkook slowly turned to Taehyung, “Did she suffer?”
Teahyung smirked devilishly, “Trust me, bro. She stopped screaming after the cement block sank her and her lover to the bottom of the ocean. They’re nothing but shark food now.”
Jungkook scoffed and chuckled, “Good. Now I feel bad I wasn’t there to see that.” He smirked.
Jimin and Taehyung laughed around him and patted his back, “There’s the maknae we know.” Jimin said, opening the passenger car door for Jungkook.
Just as he was about to get into the car, a familiar yell rang out from across the street behind him. He turned to see Jong-Doo shooting him a death glare before climbing into his own car.
As the Bangtan brothers got inside the car, Jimin spoke. “I heard Jong-Doo was going to be released today. They say the court ruling was chaotic because his girlfriend turned him in.” He chuckled, “Talk about a stab in the back.”
“Women can never be trusted. They bring nothing but death, deception, and disappointment. Nobody, and I mean, nobody, underestimates the Bangtan Brothers. I will hunt them and gut them down like an animal if anyone thinks they have a chance against us.” Teahyung glared deeply into space without noticing his whitening knuckles gripping on the black leather wheel.
“You and me both, hyung.” Jungkook nodded his head with approval. “For now, let’s go home. I’m sure Namjoon-hyung and Seokjin-hyung are looking forward to lecturing me.” He rolled his eyes annoyingly. Leaving Jimin laughing and slapping his back at his remarks.
*********
The next day…
Near the edge of Seoul is a rehab facility for women who were drug addicts. Amongst them was Ko Ok-Sun, it took her over a year to go through withdrawal and avoid temptation to get her next fix. Getting over pain and throwing up constantly was a huge challenge for her in the beginning. Ok-Sun was close to giving up the treatment when her thoughts drifted to her father and younger sister. The hard steps she had to take were meant for them. Seeing the look on their smiling faces, and for the first time in a long time, her father would be proud of her and welcome her home.
After the withdrawal, she went from group therapy to solo therapy from the trauma she went through with her boyfriend and her rebellious years after her mother died. She cried most of the time during her therapy sessions. Feeling remorse for her words and actions was her next step of improvement. Her therapist was willing to help her create a goal to improve her relationship with her family and her future life choices.
However, when it was almost time for her to leave the facility. Ok-Sun spoke to her younger sister, Hye-mi, about coming home. Except that plan had changed when their father didn’t want her to come home. Ok-Sun felt completely heartbroken after working so hard to recover and was ready to come home. She knew living in the streets would be dangerous for her since her ex-boyfriend owned them even when he was in prison. Ok-Sun felt the urge to have a panic attack until her sister called her again and told her her co-worker is willing to take her in. She felt unsure at first, but her younger sister assured her that her co-worker is also a close friend. Someone she would trust with her life. Ok-Sun somehow felt relaxed after hearing the phrase “trust with her life.” It was all she needed to calm her anxieties. On her last day at the rehab facility, Ok-Sun had her belongings packed and ready to go. She took a deep breath while feeling excited at the same time. Ok-Sun looked forward to reuniting with her younger sister and meeting her best friend at the same time.
But little did she know…
There was a black SUV parked outside the rehab facility, and Park Jong-Doo sat in the passenger seat. Smoking his weed and watching people coming in and out of the entrance. Like a predator watching its prey, his eyes squinted and growled angrily. Remembering that time in court when she testified against him. Explaining every detail of what he did on his business days, talking about his abuse toward her to the point he ended up raping her with foreign objects, including a loaded gun. Fortunately, he didn’t pull the trigger. But he still left deep, jagged scars carved into her thighs, back, and arms. What set him off even more was when she spoke about his torture rooms. From every sharp butcher’s instrument to working tools that were used for construction sites. His dumping sites for dismembered bodies fed to starving dogs after the dog fight arena that he ran on his property.
Jong-Doo flicked off his lit cigarette with his middle finger through the window. “So this is where she was staying this whole time while I was in prison?”
“Yeah, boss! One of my sources told me that her old man doesn’t want her home, and she has been staying here since. No one came to visit her. Not even her younger sister.” One of his guys answered.
Jong-Doo chuckled, “How unfortunate. I guess that makes me her only family, and as her only relative, it’s time I bring her home and teach her a lesson about snitching. Don’t you think, boys?” He asked, turning towards them, smirking evilly.
His men nodded in agreement, pulled out their masks and weapons from their feet, and cocked their pistols to ready themselves as they left the SUV and followed their boss into the rehab facility.
Synopsis: Daughter of a powerful tycoon, Seoyoon names herself after the Korean folklore, "Gumiho" to spread fear in the hearts of men and enemies. However, she mysteriously disappears after her father sends her on a solo mission.
Three years later, Seoyoon returns with different identity hoping to live a normal life.
*Please read "A Note From The Author" from Masterpost*
Chapter One
When I was a little girl, I used to read a folklore story called Gumiho. A nine tailed fox spirit in the body of a woman who was beautiful and benevolent on the outside. But dangerous and evil on the inside. Like a siren, she lures men into the forest at night through her charms and ethereal beauty. Then consumes their hearts and livers to live a long life and gain stronger supernatural powers.
Legends say that the Gumiho was so desperate to become human that it was willing to take the hearts and livers of a hundred men to escape its curse.
Most people would find this story terrifying, but I found this as an inspiration for my way of life. As an assassin, I understood why Gumiho did what she had to do to survive.
The only difference was… she didn’t have an older sister who was trained by her side their entire lives until they were ready to hunt.
If there’s one thing I learned from Gumiho, the only reason why she wanted to become human was because deep down, she hated the desire to end innocent lives for immorality.
For seven years, my sister and I have hunted down warlords and crime leaders to please our father. His goal was to become the only king of the underworld crime empire. Anyone who was a threat to him, we were sent to annihilate.
Until that one night, I couldn’t carry out the mission I was sent to do. So I left and never looked back.
I hoped and prayed that Red Fox would never return. Not as a villain, but as something else who would make up for the lives she had taken into something more.
* * * * * *
Three years later…
Author’s P.O.V
“Hyemi-ah! Would you mind helping me pick up dishes from empty tables?” The waitress shouted over her shoulder as she served hot porridge soup to the guests.
“I’m busy with this table!” The waitress concluded.
“I’m coming!” Hye-mi rushed from the kitchen double doors to collect the dishes.
Soa watches Hye-mi float around…letting her mind wander to when she was that age.
Ko Hye-Mi, an eighteen-year-old graduate student from high school. She starts her first year at Seoul University in the fall, where she’ll study to become a lawyer. Being her father’s golden child, she decided to spend her last three months’ vacation to help her father and his business. “SouperKorea.” It was Hye-Mi’s way of thanking her father for saving his business money over the years to spend it on a scholarship for her studies and a dorm room for her to stay for the next three years. As an average-height girl with round brown eyes and long, dark brown hair that frames her fair skin, she is unafraid to face any challenge that comes her way, even if it means risking her life for the people she cares about.
“Enjoy your meals.” The waitress bowed briefly to the elderly couple.
When she stood back up, she used her index finger to push back her thick black glasses to the bridge of her nose. Her soft smile revealed the kind expression on her face despite her bangs covering her eyebrows and the rest of her curly hair tied in a low ponytail on the back of her head.
The elderly couple responded to her gentle expression, “You have a beautiful smile, young lady!” The old lady chuckled.
“Your boyfriend must be a very lucky man!” The old man said, turning to his wife as she nodded in agreement.
The waitress blushed and shook her head, “No, I don’t have a boyfriend." She took a long pause before responding, "I’m afraid my job has kept me more occupied than relationships as it is.”
The old woman had a look of pity on her face, “You shouldn’t work so hard, you’re still young! Go out there and have fun! Fall in love! Get married! Trust me.” She held her husband’s hand. “It’s worth it.” She concluded by placing her head on her husband’s shoulder.
The old man chuckled softly, patted his wife’s head, and kissed the center with love.
The waitress was about to warmly smile at their affections. But caught herself and turned a blank face.
She once again told them to enjoy their meal and bowed quickly before she rushed back to the kitchen.
At the end of the day, the girls were cleaning the serving area, wiping the tables, then flipping the chairs over to stack on top of the tables. Sweeping and mopping the floors and collecting trash from the garbage bins. Before Hye-Mi was about to leave through the back door. Her father came through the double doors from the kitchen.
Mr. Ko, an old man in his sixties wearing a black bandana. His grey hairs sticking out on the sides of his face and his eyebrows. Wearing a black and white chef cook uniform with a black apron wrapped around his waist and sleeves rolled neatly up to his elbows. Before he owned his restaurant, Mr. Ko was a war veteran in his younger years. But after being away from home too often, he decided to end his tour and opened his restaurant, “SouperKorea.” He met Hyemi’s mother, got married, and had children together.
Unfortunately, his happy ending didn’t last forever. His wife passed away from blood cancer, leaving him behind to struggle with the business and her two little girls on their own to help their father at home and work.
“Ah! Great job, ladies! We made it through another successful day at work,” he said, grinning at them.
“Especially you, Mun Soa-ssi!” He turned to the waitress who was putting the last chair on top of the table.
“Thank you for the assistance in the kitchen! I know it was a last-minute call, but if it wasn’t for your help. My “SouperKorea” business would have been in trouble,” he chuckled.
“You’re welcome, sir. I’m glad to help out.” Soa bowed to her boss in respect.
*RING! RING!*
Hye-Mi’s cellphone rang from her back pocket, causing her to be alarmed within her father’s presence.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Aren’t you going to answer your phone?” Her father asked.
Hye-Mi quickly grabbed her cellphone to check the caller I.D and bit her lip nervously, “it’s Ok-Sun, father.”
Ko Ok-Sun, Mr. Ko’s eldest daughter. After her mother’s death, she grew rebellious against her father at the age of 15. She refused to “be a slave” to her father’s needs and turned to the worst crowd who were willing to accept her. Over the next few years, Ok-Sun dropped out of high school and became addicted to drugs and alcohol. Her father has tried to talk her into going to rehab, but their debates became too extreme. Mr. Ko had no choice but to kick her out of the house, and he hasn’t spoken to her since.
Her father’s smile melted into a frown, “Why is she calling you? How did she get your number?”
“I gave her my number.” She responded in a shy tone.
“Please don’t be mad, father! She has been doing really good this time! She’s been recovering for over a year now!” She takes a deep breath before pleading. “She just wants to come home!” Before Hye-mi was about to continue, her father interrupted her.
“No! I gave her three chances and she blew it! Recovered or not, she is no longer my responsibility!” He yelled angrily.
“You either end your conversations with her now, or you are disowned from this family too!” He huffed and turned back through the kitchen doors.
“SHE’S YOUR DAUGHTER! YOUR OWN FLESH AND BLOOD!” Hye-Mi screamed through her heartbroken tears.
Her father paused his movements before entering the double doors.
“You have no idea how hard it was for her to go through the pain of withdrawal. The constant vomiting, the shakes, and the headaches. Ok-Sun went through all of that just to prove how sorry she was and how willing she is to recover because she’s ready to come home.” She sniffled, wiping her tears from her right cheek with the back of her hand.
“If you can’t accept her forgiveness and anything were to happen to her. You will regret it for the rest of your life.” Hye-mi concluded, before leaving through the back door to take out the trash.
Soa sighed and was about to untie her apron when her boss called for her.
“Mun Soa-ssi, could you please forget about what you just heard and make sure you girls lock up before you leave?” He said as he left through the double doors from the kitchen and up the stairs to his house.
Soa slowly nodded and whispered, “Yes, sir.”
Later that night…
Outside the city of Seoul, there was a high-security prison facility with moving lights on different corners of the building. Guards spoke to one another through their walkie-talkies, others checking the perimeter with their dogs. Every single one of them was occupied with their jobs. Meanwhile, inside the building, through the dark halls and echoing footsteps of security guards, a loud grunt came from the first floor in one of the cellblocks. A man was doing sit-ups, facing the wall in front of him. The room may have been dark, but his eyes were focused on one thing. A picture of a woman with long dark hair, round eyes, and pale skin, smiling while holding a cigarette in her fingers. Instead of focusing on her face, he focused on her plump breasts, where her other arm was covering her nipples. He couldn’t help but drool over her provocative position.
By the time he finished a number of sit-ups. He got up, breathing heavily, and strolled toward his picture and removed it from the wall. Before he was about to utter a word, he heard a few bangs from his cell bars. He smiled, knowing it was one of the guards getting his attention without turning around.
“Hey! You! Park Jong-Doo!” The guard yelled, raising his flashlight. It revealed the prisoner’s glistening, sweat-soaked upper body, covered in heavy tattoos. On his back was a tattoo of a phoenix flying from the flames. Then on his right arm was an eastern dragon with horns, slithering around his entire arm and shoulder with exotic flowers.
“Stop making a racket and off to bed now! Or it’s an isolation room for you!” The guard warned before he left.
Jong-Doo scoffed in annoyance and ignored the guards' threat. “Just one more week, baby. I will see you soon.”
He flipped the picture around before the guard's flashlight left his cell and read on the back out loud to himself, “My Ok-Sun.” Releasing his scary laughter.
* * * * * * *
Mun Soa P.O.V
It’s been a few days since Hye-mi and her father last spoke to one another, since that night when they argued over Ok-Sun. Not even a glance. As much as their tension makes me feel uncomfortable. I also felt pity for them. Like Hye-Mi, for example, she sees the potential of goodness in her sister. No matter how many chances her sister was given. Hye-Mi never gave up on her. Even if it meant hiding their conversations from their father. I can understand why she did that. I should know, I also had a father who saw nothing but disappointment from my older sister, Yuna.
*FLASHBACK*
Author’s P.O.V
“Ugh!” Yuna grunted when she landed her back hard on the ground. She remembers why she chose her code name, Viper. A name that sounds dangerous because she was tired of being underestimated.
“That’s enough! Red Fox is the winner!” Their father said in his deep voice as he raised his left hand to cease their sparring.
Yuna turned to their father with her eyes widened. “No, Father! Wait! Let me try again! I can beat her this time!“
“No! You will not!” Their father yelled, rising from his seat. Then strolled toward his youngest daughter, Red Fox.
“It is clear no matter how many times you’ve tried to outbeat her. You always fail!”
He proudly patted his youngest daughter’s shoulder, “Red Fox has never failed to disappoint me.” He quickly switched the subject. “Soon, when the underground empire becomes mine, you will be my right hand.” He smiled proudly at his youngest.
Meanwhile, Red Fox stood there, still breathing heavily and sweating from the recent sparring with Yuna. She felt uneasy about the promotion she received. She didn’t know what to say until she saw the sad look on Yuna’s face.
“What about Viper, Father? Will she rule with us?” Red Fox asked, hoping the answer would help her older sister feel better.
“Humph! I highly doubt that! She’s nothing but a disappointment! Viper should be happy I’m only keeping her around because she’s my last flesh and blood. He grinned cynically. “If you would like, she could be your servant.” He chuckled, turning on his heel and exited the room with his men.
Yuna clenched her fists tight until you saw white knuckles. Her tears were threatening to come out, and her teeth were grinding in anger. Red Fox could easily see the hurtful look on her older sister’s face when their father talked down to her.
Red Fox knew Yuna hated to see the look of pity on her face. Instead, she sighed heavily and knelt down next to her. “Ignore the old man, you are a skilled fighter. I’ve seen your potential! If you want, I could teach you-”
“SHUT UP!” Yuna yelled in anger and shoved Red Fox to the ground.
“I thought I told you to stop pitying me!” She growled, taking out a short blade and shoving it near her throat. “I don’t want your fucking help!”
“Try that again, and I won’t hesitate to kill you!” Yuna threatened before getting up, keeping the blade by her side.
“I will beat you one way or another. Even if it means I have to train ten times harder, a snake never backs away from a fight.” She glared at Red Fox before leaving the room.
*FLASHBACK ENDED*
Soa had just arrived at her apartment after work. She switched from her shoes to her house slippers and walked toward her bedroom. From there, Soa opened her closet door and saw an old wooden box on the ground with a Kitsune symbol, faded with red paint. She kneeled down in front of it, caressed the top part with her right hand, and sighed heavily.
Mun Soa P.O.V
Red Fox had done so much damage to many families. Some were left with physical scars, others were left to die, and nobody saved them. To this day, I can still hear their screams. There were times I could barely eat or sleep. My apologies will never be enough to bring them back.
Although I couldn’t help but wonder if I could help fix the relationship between Mr. Ko and his daughter. Would it help me? Or could this be the opportunity for redemption from my past?
Inspired by: Black Widow (MARVEL), Electra (DC), Mortal Kombat Legacy (Kitana & Mileena), Legend of Chun Li: Street Fighter (Film), Snake Eyes: G.I. Joe Origins, Tokyo Vice
Theme: Twist Sisterhood/Family, Trauma, the path to Redemption and the power of Choices, Feminism and Empowerment, the struggle for Identity and Legitimacy, Transformation and Survival, Good vs. Evil, Forging a new life, Rivalry and Jealousy, Loyalty and Betrayal and the conflict between Duty and personal Desire, the dynamic often shifts between hatred and a desire for family, Self-Discovery, the price of secrets, Corruption and Moral Ambiguity, Mafia Underworld Dynamics.
Vibes: Dark & Gritty Atmosphere, Intense Action Scenes, Dual Life Drama, High-Stakes Melodrama, “Flashback” Driven Plotting, Assassin Thriller Atmosphere, Family Dynamics and Trauma. Feminist and Empowering, Nostalgic and Reflective, Reclaimed Narrative, Tragic Sisterhood and Rivalry, Royalty and Power Struggle, Horror Elements, a dark, action-packed vibe focused on redemption and martial arts, slow-burn tension, Sensory Details, Enemies to Lovers, Intense Action & Atmosphere, Assassin and Kkangpae Conflict, Criminal Underworld Dominance, Explicit Sexual Contents, Graphic Violence and Gore, Abusive Power Dynamics and Manipulation, BDSM, Torture, Mime and Sadism.
Warning: This story contains extremely dark and mature themes that may be disturbing to some readers. Triggering topics, and I will attach photos that are not very safe in your mind. This is just a work of pure fiction. Names, Character Reference, and Historical Reference are clearly the products of the author’s imagination and just used for fictional manner and for representation ONLY. Places, Characters and events that appeared on the content don’t have anything to do in real life. All scenes and chapters are completely the work of the author's imagination. Credits to the rightful owners who created the films and tv shows on the list of inspired by.
Do not expect to be warned when I update the chapters. You can only be warned from here.
*****************
This narrative is specifically crafted for readers who are comfortable with, and actively seek out, dark romance with challenging and potentially triggering content. It does not shy away from the darker aspects of human nature and relationships. Plus I did some research on Asian Mafia (Yakuza, Kkangpae, Triads), their initiations and hierarchy, Tattoos, Allies and enemies, Loan Sharks and so forth.
If you are sensitive to any of the aforementioned themes or prefer lighter romance, adventure and happy endings, this is not the story for you. It will contain human Trafficking, Public and Private executions, Drugs and Weapons Trafficking, Punishments, Extortian, Dangerous Heists, Espionage, Embezzelment, Political and High society Corruption and Bribery, rape and harsh punishments and so forth. May I remind you, the story may be fictional but these certain contents are somewhat true in real life based on History videos and Online Research. So please do not take it to heart and throw your anger out on me. Not to be rude, but please! Don’t bother reading ahead and leave if you can’t handle this story and its contents.
Disclaimer: This story does not reflect any real thoughts, opinions, or behaviors of the BTS members. Do not compare the actions and beliefs of these characters to the real Bangtan. This is an alternate universe, though their names may have changed. But their appearances and their actions are from my own imagination and countless weeks of planning and building characters and storyline.
Word Count: N/A
Summary: For as long as she could remember, Seoyoon and her older sister has been training to become assassins for their father who plans to reign the criminal underworld and sends his daughters to kill anyone who threatens to get in his way.
Seoyoon names herself after the Korean Folklore “Gumiho” to spread fear in the hearts of men and enemies. However, she mysteriously disappears after her father sends her on a solo mission.
Three years later, Seoyoon returns with a different identity hoping to live a normal life after hearing her father has passed away.
Suddenly, her new life was cut short when her friend’s older sister was kidnapped by her ex boyfriend.
Would she return as Red Fox to make amends of her dark past?
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
To those of you who will read on, please proceed with caution and at your own discretion. None of the theme and vibe contents are to be condoned or glorified. As this takes place in a fully fictional world, I ask you to read on with the understanding that their cultures, traditions, politics and more may differ from what you’d prefer in an ideal world.
Hello ARMY! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance! I know this story contains mature themes for mature adult readers. I wanted to challenge myself into creating a unique story that is different from all other BTS mafia themes. I grew tired of their repeated conflicts and plot themes. I sincerely hope this story will be something you want for guilty pleasures and slow-burn tension based on my dark imagination. I’ll do my best to write this plot in a way that captures your minds and hearts. I look forward to receiving lots of encouraging comments from all of you! Enjoy your reading, ARMY!
