warnings: yandere themes, jealous behaviour, power imbalance, slapping, praise and degradation, dubious consent, misogynistic behaviour, baby trapping, dumbification, manipulation and gaslighting. Whew!
note: the extreme nsfw part of this hc has been redacted. the full length, nsfw version (with serious warnings) is posted on my patreon for my subscribers. it is also available for purchase by non-subscribers under the shop section.
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- prof namjoon who noticed you during your first day in his class as you spilt your coffee all over the carpeted floors of his classroom-hall and bowed low enough to touch the ground in apology
-prof namjoon who, revered as the youngest professor in the university, commanded fear and respect in equal measure from all students, whose class you were warned against taking, being as he is notorious for failing more than half the students in the very first semester
-prof namjoon who, despite his abhorrence for clumsiness and insincere behaviour, is taken by an almost violent urge to glimpse your face in full as you keep bowing in apology
-prof namjoon who stumbles mid-sentence as you finally find a seat right next to the window that lets in a stream of warm sunlight and bathes you in an effervescent glow, your eyes shining with tears and cheeks red with embarrassment
-prof namjoon who feels a disgusting sense of satisfaction when he gives you the lecture of a lifetime, cold and scathing, when you approach him to apologize for the disturbance after the lecture ends and end up biting back tears at his sneer and choice of words that make you feel unworthy
-prof namjoon who picks you to answer a question during every lecture, who critiques your every opinion and response, even when the question is open-ended, just to glimpse the embarrassed and teary look in your eyes being directed at him
-prof namjoon who fixes the seating schedule, despite the students mocking him for being too strict and implementing a seating system in university, just so you would sit away from everyone else, especially from those pesky, barely adult boys with wandering eyes and too-friendly demeanours
-prof namjoon who becomes notorious for demanding short deadline assignments, killing the students’ social life, just so you would have no time to go out on the weekends and would instead have to think about his class (or, more optimistically, him)
-prof namjoon who is surprised by your dedication to your academics and grades your assignments as the highest in the class (nobody can blame him for sitting with those pieces of papers that had your intoxicating fragrance on them for hours, he even slept with them next to him. for science, of course)
-prof namjoon who thinks of you during his other lectures and calls other students by your name on accident, even turning around in the hallway to look at someone who looked like you for a moment
-prof namjoon who invites you to attend his seminar, only you, introduces you to his peers with a hand on your shoulder that tightens with each second you spend in the company of another young male professor
-prof namjoon who follows you around the buffet, carefully putting selections on your plate (you were becoming too thin, was he really overworking you so much?)
-prof namjoon who calls you to his office hours, patiently explaining every concept you had difficulty understanding (you were a little slow but that’s nothing he couldn’t remedy with his dedicated attention)
-prof namjoon who sees you holding hands with a boy in the hallway after class and cancels class for the entire week, claiming sick leave (he was sick with burning jealousy)
-prof namjoon who comes back to class, colder and meaner, whose words cut and who seems to have a vendetta against all his students, but especially you
-prof namjoon who berates you in front of the entire class for your miserable performance in the recent test, going as far as to suggest that you should opt for a course more suited to those as “simple-minded” as you
-prof namjoon who corners you in his office when you apologize to him for your poor performance and demands to know where exactly it is that you’re focussing because it surely isn’t on his classes (him)
-prof namjoon who slaps you when you argue back with him and feels a sense of satisfaction and elation as you look up at him with the same teary eyes you’d given him on the first day of your class with him
-prof namjoon who makes you sit on his lap and shushes you as you cry of embarrassment and rage, patting your head and calling you a good girl when you melt in his strong arms, aching for comfort from your offender and wanting a return to your prof who was proud of you
-prof namjoon who drops you home in his car and sends you flowers, hot chocolate and the entire set of his annotated books when you miss class the next day
-prof namjoon who shows up at your door the next evening, looking all suave and self assured, making you wonder if the previous day even happened, who takes you in his arms, presses you to his chest and tells you “i just want you to do well, my star student. im so proud of you, i really am”
-prof namjoon who starts by caressing your head as you begin sobbing in his arms again, overwhelmed by your confusing emotions, and begins to press light kisses on the top of your head that is tucked under his chin as he murmurs reassurances
-prof namjoon who rests his forehead against yours, looking deeply into your eyes as he rubs your cheeks before pressing his lips on the apples of your cheeks as your eyes flutter shut with a moan
-prof namjoon who crushes you to his chest as he licks your lips, pressing soft kisses on the corners of your mouth, tasting the salt of your fresh tears before sucking your lower lip as you let out a soft whine
-prof namjoon who asks you, “who has tasted this sinful mouth before me, angel?” before smirking at your refusal and saying “i will teach you, baby, just like everything else, i will teach you this too”
-prof namjoon who takes you throughout the evening, alternating between violent, rough sex and sweet, gentle love making, leaving you a trembling, sensitive, over-stimulated mess with hickeys painted all over your body
-prof namjoon who bathes you, shampoos your hair and tucks you in bed before leaving for his classes the next day
-prof namjoon who begins overtaking your life, taking you to uni with him in the mornings, teaching you in the afternoon, cooking you dinner in the evening, and making you cry on his bed with pain and pleasure throughout the night
-prof namjoon who subtly starts undermining your academic life, criticising your papers for your other classes, bringing you coloring books for kids when he goes on his bookstore runs, encouraging you to take leaves from the uni whenever you feel like it and fucking you from behind on your study table till you cannot stand on your two legs, till his cum is running down and puddling near your feet
-prof namjoon who refuses to wear a condom and “forgets” to pull out, taking you out for expensive dinners and shopping whenever you bring this up, afraid for the future
-prof namjoon who is happy when you jump into his arms one evening, devastated with the positive pregnancy test in your hands, and kisses you all over your face, spinning you around with joy as he tells you how happy he is that your beautiful body is nurturing the life he created inside it
-prof namjoon who stops you from going to uni, citing his concerns about a sensitive pregnancy and asks you to shift to online school, registering your name in one (after striking it off your uni admission list)
-prof namjoon who is overjoyed at you being confined to his house, per the constraints of your condition, and looks forward to coming home early each evening to surprise you with flowers and an oral orgasm
-prof namjoon who gently forbids you from talking to your male neighbours, affirming his right over your body as he pounds into you with your legs over his shoulders, grasping at your swinging breasts as you gasp for air
-prof namjoon who cannot believe how lucky he is, having his son and wife waiting at home for him, each day as he provides for them
Something just like this Pt. 3 (End) - Jungkook x F. Reader
Summary: In the middle of adjusting your life to being a divorcee with a daughter, you are invited to your middle school reunion. There, you meet your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook, who also has his own struggle. Feeling nostalgic, both of you are involved in a journey of walking down memory lane. Between puppy love and friendship, will romance bloom for a second time?
Word count: 9k
Warnings: just a touch of angsty feeling but nothing dramatic :)
Smut Warnings: kissing, makeout, fingering, unprotected sex (lets be wiser and use protection guys), missionary, cowgirl, he comes in her throat, cum swallowing, tell me if im missing something :(
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut in this chapter
Read part 1 here, part 2 here
Author's Note: I don't know where to begin but to say sorry because it took me a whole 9 months to write this last chapter. Honestly the first half was done right away 9 months ago, but somehow lost my inspiration as I was trying to write the second half. But it's weird how one day I felt so inspired and missing writing this back, and then the rest just written in a few days. But I feel relieved that I could finally finish this. Hopefully you would enjoy it. Thank you!
Again, thank you so so much to @euphorajeon who beta-ed this chapter too, would have been a big mess without you missy :*
On Friday morning you received a message from Seonho saying he needs to come to the office half day on Saturday, so he can only pick up Miyeon after 3PM. Even though Jungkook promised to pick you up at 6.30 in the evening, you just thought it’s easier if you bought the groceries needed to make jjajangmyeon–the dish you finally decided to make–later today after work in order not to rush yourself tomorrow.
By 5.30 PM you’ve reached the grocery store not far from your office. You do need to take the subway back home later, but the quality of meat and vegetables in that store is way better than the ones near your home.
You are in the middle of picking up a bag of cucumber when someone taps on your shoulder lightly.
“Y/N?”
“Oh? Taehyung??”
“In the flesh,” he gives you a salute gesture that makes you chuckle.
“Nice to see you here, grocery shopping?”
“Great to see you too. Yep, just picking up some ingredients for jjajangmyeon,” you peer over his shopping cart and see many bottles of isotonic and mineral water, “great effort to maintain hydration there.”
He laughs and shows his cart proudly, “it’s for the guys, we’re playing soccer against the Engineering Department tonight, please send your prayer for us, we need all the support there is.”
“Ooff, Engineering Department guys sound legit.”
“They are, hopefully our Jungkookie can save the day, he’s the best striker we have had since forever.”
“Oh, Jungkook’s playing?”
“Yeah, speaking of Jungkook though, did he… uh,” Taehyung scratches the back of his head,, “did he say anything to you?”
You’re a little bit confused, because Jungkook did say a lot of things within the span of time after you met Taehyung.
“I’m sorry… about what?”
Taehyung can guess that Jungkook must have not said anything to you from your puzzled expression. He also hasn’t had the time to ask Jungkook directly, and was planning to follow up to his junior after the soccer game later tonight.
“Uh, well,” Taehyung decides to just take his shot, “I asked Jungkook for your number, but he said he wanted to ask you first, which I understood, because I wouldn’t want my friends to give around my number just to anyone.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah, so…”
“Must have slipped his mind or something, uhm, let me put it in your phone?” you offer, because there’s no reason you can find to turn down Taehyung’s advances. It’s not like you have to consider someone else’s feelings… or should you? Because you don’t think Jungkook is the type of person who easily forgets this kind of thing.
Is it your wishful thinking though?
“Thanks!” Taehyung says when you return his phone back, “maybe I can take you out to one of the places I told you some time?”
You just nod tentatively, “aren’t those kid friendly places?”
“Yeah, I mean I don’t mind taking you and your daughter out if it’s too troublesome for you to find someone to look after her. We can make it a family-friendly date,” he answers with a boyish grin, which somehow does not make his face less handsome.
This is something you should be excited about. An attractive man offering to take you out on a date and clearly very considerate because he even let your kid tag along if you couldn’t find a sitter.
But all you can think about as you nod politely again is whether there is a possibility that Jungkook is gatekeeping you on purpose.
“So… I’ll see you around, Y/N?”
“Yeah, see you,” and as Taehyung turns his way, you call out to him again, “hey Tae, good luck on the game and… tell Jungkook I said hi?”
Somehow there’s a difference in the way Taehyung smiles at you. As if he’s acknowledging something while giving you a salute before walking in the opposite direction.
But the worry doesn’t stay too long on your mind. You need to finish up shopping because on weekdays you always try to get home as soon as you can, considering Miyeon is waiting for you at home.
Just as you found a seat inside the subway, a new message pops up on your phone screen.
[Jungkook]: checking whether you still have my number saved, because Tae just told me you said hi
[Jungkook]: hi to you too
[Jungkook]: (pic)
A smile blooms on your face, because not only is he cute, but why does he need to send a picture of himself visibly sweating, probably after a round of soccer.
[You]: well I accidentally bumped into him at the supermarket and he said you guys are playing soccer tonight, I just did what’s customary ;p
[You]: So did you guys defend yourself against the engineering guys?
[Jungkook]: barely. Will you still be cooking with me if we lose?
[You]: of course, consider it as a consolidation meal
[Jungkook]: lets see if I can turn it into victory meal on second round
[You]: I’ll add a dessert if you win
[Jungkook]: that’s enough motivation for me
You smile again, silently wishing for his good luck. For a second you think of asking him about what Taehyung had said earlier. But maybe it would be better to ask directly tomorrow. Probably then you can see his real reaction, whether he’s truly forgotten or… is there another reason? A reason that makes your heart race just by the thought of it.
But by Saturday afternoon, you are humbled by the fact that some plans are not meant to be realized. That life always throws a curveball whenever you think things are going smoothly–or maybe in your case when you’ve been very excited and look forward to it.
You’ve already had a hunch when Seonho didn’t contact you at all until almost 3 PM. He always texts you whenever he’s on his way to pick up Miyeon. And somehow today, you kind of expected him to be late.
What you didn’t expect though is for him to totally bail. At 4 PM he finally calls you, saying he still can’t leave work and probably can’t take Miyeon this weekend. Of course it’s not the first time. In the span of one year since the divorce, obviously there were times when you and Seonho could not keep up with your arranged schedule. So this should not be something that you can’t handle.
But apparently there is something different this time that makes you bothered beyond belief, yet at the same time, being bothered makes you feel very guilty. Because to think about being annoyed that your ex husband can’t take your daughter with him so that you can go to your ex boyfriend’s apartment sounds very wrong within your moral compass. You shouldn’t feel that way, it’s like betraying the very essence of motherhood. Nothing should be more important than the well-being of your child.
However, you’re merely a human being with emotions. Sometimes we can’t regulate what we actually feel with what we should be feeling. This makes–not only your heart–your head ache.
[You]: I’m so sorry, I think we need a raincheck for tonight. Seonho couldn’t come, so I can’t leave Miyeon alone
[Jungkook]: It’s ok. Your daughter is more important.
On the other side of the city, Jungkook types his reply earnestly. Because he can understand. But understanding doesn’t mean he’s not disappointed. Not with you, and especially not with your daughter, only with the fact that the plan he was looking forward to tonight could not be realized. He looks around his apartment and sighs, feeling more saddened because he just spent half a day cleaning and re-arranging the place. Not that it was a total wreckage in the first place, he always keeps his place tidy, but he did spend a dedicated time this afternoon to make sure everything is ‘in place’. No dirty clothes lying around, no game controller left abandoned on the sofa, mopping the floor twice to ensure no dirt and dust are left behind, and honestly, last night he even stopped by the store to buy a new slipper for you.
Not that he counts the effort. Again, not at all. But the amount of disappointment he’s feeling right now makes him realize how much he really wants it.
He opens his text message to you once again, thumb hovering on screen, debating whether he wants to send another text to you. Even though he’s unsure what to say. All that he knows is just that he was prepared to be with you tonight. To enjoy your presence and company.
[Jungkook]: hey… was just wondering if it’s ok if maybe I go there instead? You’ve bought the groceries anyway, let’s make good use out of it.
[Jungkook]: only if you’re comfortable
You didn’t think he’d ask that.
You didn’t think he would actually try to spend time with you even though the circumstances had changed. But it was surely a pleasant surprise when you received his texts.
So when by 9PM you received another one informing he’s outside, you instantly get up from the couch and make your way to the front door.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he scratches the back of his head and shyly smiles, “didn’t want to ring the doorbell, afraid it will wake somebody up.”
At first you were afraid he would perceive you differently when you said that you would love him to come but only after everyone’s asleep, but he assured you he understands. It’s not because you didn’t want him to meet Miyeon, but selfishly, you wanted this for yourself. This part of your life, this moment, with the man who looks too handsome for his own good at 9PM standing in your doorway with mussed hair and gentle smile. You want to preserve this moment for the single woman part of you, not the responsible daughter or mother.
“Thank you for considering. Everyone’s asleep, I told my mom though that you’re coming, come on.”
Stepping aside, you give him a moment to take his shoes off and shrug his denim jacket aside. With a boyish grin, he presents you a plastic bag containing a box of fried chicken and two bottles of soju, as promised.
The next twenty minutes you spend in your kitchen, cooking the jajangmyeon while trying to maintain the laughs and giggles in minimum volume so as to not awaken your mother and Miyeon. You knew Jungkook likes to cook by himself, he told you several times, but what you didn’t know was how serious he is with it.
The sound of knives against the cutting board and the scent of frying Chunjang (black bean paste) fill your kitchen. While you are focused on dicing some vegetables, Jungkook is busy stirring the sauce in front of the stove.
You glance at him and can’t help but smile seeing his eyebrows knit together in the middle while he’s all focused.
“How’s the sauce coming along, Kook?”
Jungkook looks up from the pan, eyes softening as they meet yours. His smile is comfortable, reassuring, “it’s perfect, come look.”
You lean in towards the stove, shoulder brushing with his firm one. The warmth from the stove and the warmth from him are suddenly one and the same.
“Wow, you’re really good at this, unless it’s packaged sauce, mine always looks like mud or asphalt.”
Jungkook lets out a low chuckle, his voice then sounds more encouraging when he explains, “it’s all in this first step. You have to roast the Chunjang in oil first to remove the raw and salty edge. It adds to the depth of the taste.”
Your breath hitches when he looks at you directly, “most instant recipes skip this, but if you wanted to make it properly, you can’t. That’s the difference between eating for survival and eating for pleasure. And honestly, I prefer pleasure.”
Why on earth he needs to add a wink after that last sentence is beyond you.
As if that act alone didn’t make your heart flutter, he then takes the wooden spoon from the simmering pot, dipping the tip of his index finger into the rich, dark Jajang sauce. The next moment feels like a slow-mo movie scene as he brings his finger to his mouth, tasting it with a focused intensity that makes your stomach clench involuntarily. You can tell he’s mouthing the word ‘perfect’ even though no sound is coming out from his lips.
Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he dips his finger again, coating the pad with the thick, savoury sauce. His focus turns to you, gaze lifting to meet yours in a quiet challenge. He doesn’t need to say a word to explain his next action as he moves his hand, the sauce-tipped finger closer to your lips. The air is charged, tension thickens with every thrum of your heartbeat when you tilt your head just a little bit, lips parting slightly to meet his finger halfway, eyes never leaving each other as you gently draw the sauce into your mouth with a soft, sensual press. His thumb grazes your chin lightly, as you taste the flavourful sauce, fingers ghosting over your jaw.
“How is it?”
God, he really doesn’t need to whisper like that.
Your effort not to stutter fails miserably when you answer him, “g-good, delicious.”
“Yeah? Good enough for you?”
More than enough, you think. But the words don’t come out of your mouth. Instead, your eyes stray from his eyes to his lips, subtly glistening under the warm light of your kitchen. And the same thing happens to him, as you see his eyes drop to your lips. For a moment you feel like you just put on your noise cancelling headphones as everything goes silent. Your heartbeat thrums loudly, your palms sweaty as the distance grows closer and closer.
Unfortunately, things really don’t want to go your way that day. Because just when you’re about to close your eyes, Jungkook’s lips inches away from yours, your timer goes off, signalling the chicken reheating inside your oven should be done.
Both of you jolt back in reflex, eyes darting everywhere as you regulate the increased beating of your heart.
“Th-the chicken,” you murmur and Jungkook clears his throat, nodding a few times before searching for some gloves to take it out from the oven.
You move swiftly to turn off the stove, stirring the Jajang sauce one last time before preparing the noodles on a plate, “I think everything’s set?” trying your best to keep your voice steady even though you can still feel the heat of the previous moment in your cheeks and stomach.
“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, moving the chicken from the pan to a serving dish you’ve prepared earlier, “where do you want to eat?”
Contemplating your choices, you scan the dining table quickly before eyeing the coffee table in the living room. The dining table should be more practical, but the coziness of sitting on the rug, backs against the couch while the television is playing something as a background noise seems much more inviting, especially to soothe whatever tension between you and Jungkook before.
“How about the living room? Is it okay for you?”
“Wherever you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”
So you nod once again and start making your way to the living room, two bowls of Jajangmyeon in your hands while Jungkook carries the chicken and beers. You go back to the kitchen to take out some fresh kimchi and utensils, all the while Jungkook is arranging the food and drinks on the table.
You spend the next 30 minutes lost in conversations and food. Bodies relaxing against the couch, bowls in one hand while the other holding onto chopsticks, picking out some banchans or chickens in between taking the noodles and slurping it into your mouth. Jungkook wasn’t kidding when he said that roasting the beans adds more depth into the sauce because holy hell, the taste is incredible.
“This is hands down one of the best Jajangmyeon I had in a while.”
“Yeah? You like it?” Jungkook asks while sipping his beer, clearly amused by your satisfied face.
“So much, I can eat this a whole week.”
“That’s gotta be excessive.”
“Says mister I can eat daechang everyday.”
Jungkook laughs, and his laugh is always infectious to you. Your body shakes with muffled laughter, still remembering how your mother and Miyeon are fast asleep upstairs. In the middle of it all, you catch Jungkook’s gaze upon you. You try to hold your eyes on him too, but alas, you’re not as strong as you think you are, because it doesn’t take a minute for you to look away with cheeks as warm as the bowl of freshly cooked jajangmyeon.
“What?” you finally ask when you find out he is still eyeing you in between sipping his beer.
“Just appreciating this.”
“What’s there to appreciate that original plan is completely u-turned?”
“I think it’s a blessing in disguise.”
You decide to take a gulp from your own beer can, oblivious to what should be a correct response to his remark.
The TV is turned on and currently playing a random episode of How I Met Your Mother. A series you both decided to ‘watch’ when you started eating the food. But honestly, you haven’t paid attention to it the whole time. Not when the conversation flew easily, from the soccer match to random recipe hacks.
And now, even the brush of his knees against yours on the rug feels amplified.
“Thanks for letting me come by, and messing your kitchen up,” Jungkook adds, setting down his beer can on the table, his right arm resting upon the couch, fingers barely touching your elbow.
You shake your head, “thanks to you I get to eat a delicious meal, and free beers and chickens.”
“Anytime, Y/N.”
You put your beer can on the table too, next to his, before resting your head on the couch. He finally finds a place for his fingers to brush over your hair.
“I like this,” his voice softened, eyes boring into yours.
“The food or…”
He chuckles, moving closer, “the food only complimenting it.”
“Me too then…” everything feels too good for you, full belly, warmth tingling sensation in your heart, every stroke of his hands, you absentmindedly move your head even closer to his palm.
And Jungkook feels it. He can see the longing in your eyes. It matches his.
“You know… Taehyung asked about you.”
Oh, he finally told you about it. But why at this moment?
“Hmm?”
You can see his hesitation for a second, but Jungkook is determined to clear it out with you first before anything.
“He asked for your number. He’s interested in you.”
You then hold your head up from the couch, “uhm… yeah, he mentioned it when I ran into him at the supermarket.”
“Yeah… so… that’s that…”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” he tries to counter.
“I mean, why not before?”
“Did you give him your number?”
“What would you prefer me to do, Kook?”
You can tell he is battling himself by the way he holds his word, teeth biting into his lower lip, eyebrows knitted in the middle of his forehead.
“I did give him my number,” you sigh, “I mean, I did it because he asked me whether you had mentioned it to me, which you didn’t, so I… just thought…”
Jungkook cups your chin in his hand, thumb gently brushing your cheek, “did he call you yet?”
“No.”
“Would you want him to?”
You close your eyes momentarily as your lips release another sigh from his gentle stroke, “I asked you that question first.”
“I…” another soft stroke and his thumb slowly descend to your lower lips, “can I kiss you?”
Opening your eyes, you nod your head before his lips finally claim yours. It’s tentative, exploring, but definitely different from your first kiss with him 15 years ago.
He was your first kiss, but to think of it again, maybe it was just a peck. A brush of lips meeting lips in a few seconds until you both pulled away out of timidness and shyness. But now, it feels totally different. His lips slotting against yours deeper, his moves are more precise and experienced, making your whole body weak.
It feels like a dam finally breaks with the way his hand moves to your nape, pulling you even closer if it’s possible as one of your legs already moved by itself over his thigh. Your heartbeat thrums loudly making your palms sweaty but dear God you wish the time stands still. If there are moments you want to freeze in time and memory, this certainly is one of them.
For a few seconds all you can hear is just wet sounds of your lips locking, a few whimpers from you and breathy exhales from him. You can feel his hesitance as his hands travel around your body, never really putting it on places you wish he would.
So, you do the most logical thing, take his free hand–not the one which is currently holding the back of your head, moving you gently the way he wants to devour your lips–and put it somewhere that matters.
“Fuck,” he mutters as your hand guide his to your ass.
Soon you realize that your decision wasn’t a good one. Because the moment his hand squeezes your ass, pulling your body even closer to his, you let out a loud moan which makes you realize that you are still in your living room downstairs while your daughter and mother are currently asleep upstairs.
Suddenly you’re hyper aware of every little sound in your house, worrying that someone might have woken up. You try to resist his kisses, try to put your hands on his hard chest while he’s still lost in you, licking your lips asking for entrance.
And you’re just a weak woman for Jungkook. Because you obey, separating your lips to let his tongue wander further. Whimpers of hesitation turn into desperation when you feel his bulge brushes deliciously against your aching core. He grunts, pulling you even closer as his lips travel to your jaw, making you circle your arms around his neck, fingers threading on his soft hair.
Just as you let out another soft moan–courtesy of Jungkook kissing the right spot under your ear–you hear the sound of a door opening, and a sleepy voice.
“Eomma? Where are you?”
You stand up hastily, peeling yourself away from Jungkook’s warmth. Jungkook instinctively steadying your hips as you’re about to fall from your panicked moves.
“J-just leave everything, I will clean it up later,” you say without even looking back at him, heart stammering inside your chest.
Jungkook can see the guilt behind your eyes as you hurriedly make your way upstairs. He rubs his face as he sighs softly. Not because he’s disappointed, but he’s genuinely concerned whether you regret what just happened. He clearly doesn’t. But he can see you look upset.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jungkook decides it’s too late to extend his welcome, so he cleans everything up and leaves your house quietly.
[Jungkook]: Hey, just wanted to let you know that I’m glad we kissed. I hope you feel the same way. Let’s talk when you’re available. Good night.
You know it’s stupid to avoid him. But you can’t shake that guilty feeling which has been eating you alive for a couple weeks now. You know you shouldn’t feel that way. Especially after reading his last message. You’re single, he’s single, there’s nothing wrong with two single people wanting each other. But this is uncharted territory for you. Navigating your desire while maintaining a status as a single mom. You feel irresponsible to give into your desire while there are too many responsibilities. It struck you the most when you realized how frustrated you were when Miyeon called you.
That guilt of wanting something for yourself is something you still need to manage. Because you are someone who is not used to prioritizing herself. Spending your life growing as an eldest daughter, then getting married quite young, being a mother, it’s as if you were never given time to think about your own desire as you are too used to thinking about how your actions will implicate others.
You don’t realize you’ve been looking straight to the TV, remote on hand, and yet, haven’t even turned the thing on. Memory keep playing back to that night, on this exact location, the same couch, his hands on yours, his quiet whimpers, the feeling of being wanted, by the man you really want for yourself too–
“Y/N?”
You almost drop the remote when your mother makes her appearances in the living room. Already dressed in her sleeping gown, a cup of ginseng tea on hand. She frowns slightly as the room is left dark, and yet, you don’t even turn the television on.
“What are you doing?”
“J-just watching the TV.”
She pauses a moment, before turning on the light. She studies your face for a second before asking silently whether she can sit next to you. You nod your head gently, giving her some space.
“Is there something wrong? You’ve been quite distracted lately.”
Well, she’s not wrong. You’ve almost packed Miyeon’s daycare backpack with your own lunchbox and green juice.
Also, that one day, instead of packing her a set of clothes (for backup if her clothes are wet that day), you put two pairs of trousers. Thank goodness her clothes remained dry and clean the whole day.
And maybe, this is not the first time your mother caught you unfocused in the past few weeks.
“Something happened with Seonho?” she asked carefully. Knowing you had been through hell and it might still be quite a sensitive subject.
You shake your head slowly, fingers moving nervously around your loose t-shirt hem. As you ponder whether to talk to her about it, she asks again, even slower than before.
“Is it Jungkook?”
And when you froze for a second, she knew she hit the right spot.
“I haven’t heard from him lately, is he okay?”
“Y-yeah… I supposed so… I haven’t talked to him for a while too…”
“Why? I thought… you two are… closer again?” she asks again, still tentatively.
Seeing the concern in her eyes, you think maybe you could finally talk to someone about this. You are hesitant at first, because how could you discuss something like this with your own mother? But then you remember, she had been helpful too during your difficult period with Seonho.
“We… kind of did… it’s just… I feel… guilty… and just confused because… the more I want to be with him… makes me forget about my responsibility as Miyeon’s mom… even confessing this makes me feel guilty because… how could you possibly put a man over your own daughter…”
Your mother hums softly, “I can understand where you’re coming from,” she puts her glass on the coffee table and makes herself sit more comfortably, “but don’t you think Jungkookie is a good man?”
Nodding your head, your mind travels to the memories of the past few months. He really is a good man, isn’t he? You recall his big brown eyes widened earnestly every time you start a conversation. And the way he is always turning towards your every bid–something you learnt in your therapy, about couple’s compatibility and how a healthy relationship requires each person to respond positively towards the other’s bid, or an invitation to connect–something you were missing with Seonho before. He rarely responds to your bid, especially towards the period where you know he’d been seeing someone else.
“What Miyeon deserves is a happy mother, and a happy mother requires you to be in a healthy mental space. I think your relationship with Jungkookie has helped you a lot in that case. I could see how much happier you were. You know, you got less frustrated with Miyeon lately. You talked even softer to her, as if… you gained more patience?” your mom says.
“Did I?”
“Yes, you did,” your mom pats your shoulder gently, “and as your mother, it makes me happy seeing you like that. I know you keep a lot to yourself, but I know what you went through was not easy. My dear, you deserve to be happy, and you deserve to think about yourself too. You have me, you have Kiho, we will all help you with Miyeon, you don’t have to worry about that. But you’re the only one who can help yourself with your heart.”
It’s very impulsive and your heart is still beating so fast from all the rush. Moments after your conversation with your mother, you texted Jungkook. Yeah, shameless really. After a couple weeks of radio silence. And worse, after an intimate moment you shared with him. You should not expect him to reply that fast, or at all. But he did.
[You]: Hey… can we talk? Sorry it took me this long.
[Jungkook]: Sure. Tell me when and where.
[You]: Can you share me your address? And can I come over? Like… right now?
Your mother had told you that she would sleep with Miyeon tonight. So, you don’t have to worry about her. That is why you find yourself just outside Jungkook’s apartment lobby at 10 PM on a weekday.
“Hey.”
He sounds the same. He looks the same too, a familiar view of Jungkook in a black zip up hoodie and a pair of sweatpants greets you as the automatic door opens up.
“H-hi… I’m sorry it’s so late and I–”
“Y/N,” his voice stern but gentle, “let’s go upstairs.”
You follow him to the elevator. The silence in between does make you move awkwardly. Something you haven’t been doing whenever you’re around him–even from the first time you saw him again. But you know it’s on you. You’re the one who ghosted him, left his message unreplied with the last impression that maybe you might regret what happened between you two.
Jungkook opens his unit door and lets you go inside first. You instinctively take off your shoes and your heart skips a beat upon seeing a woman’s size slipper just beside one you assumed is his–black and obviously man’s size. For a moment you think that maybe there was another woman he welcomed. But then again, who are you to control what he could and couldn’t do.
“I bought it a few weeks ago when we were supposed to hang out here. You know, to cook,” he says as if sensing your wandering mind.
“I’m sorry…”
He looks at you for a second, does not respond to your word directly but gesturing you to follow him towards what you assume is his living room. He then takes a seat on the couch and again, signalling you to also do the same.
“Again… I’m sorry… Kook, I really am I don’t–”
“What are you sorry about exactly?” he stops you mid sentence, knowing the way you avoid his gaze means you’re about to ramble around. It’s not like he doesn’t want to hear you rambling. Hell, he always finds it cute. But he needs you to cut to the chase right now. He’s been on the verge for the past few weeks. He knows your situation, and he has been trying to comprehend, trying to put himself in your shoes. And yes, moving on from a long committed relationship is not easy. There’s always a lingering feeling of whether you’re doing the right thing. Is it too fast, will this last, what would your ex think, and to add a child in that equation must have been overwhelming too. So, yeah, Jungkook could understand a fraction of what you might be feeling. But God does he need to hear how you feel about that night too.
“For leaving you on read…” you answer truthfully, because that’s the point that makes you feel so bad.
“Yeah, that was a little bit cruel,” he responds, a faint chuckle leaving his lips, “but really, what I’m dying to know is whether you regret it or not, Y/N.”
You can feel your heartbeat rising as your eyes locked with his. You think this might be your first time seeing that look on him. Piercing gaze looking straight to yours. Gone the friendly-neighbour Jungkook look you’re familiar with. You should feel intimidated really, but on the contrary, you are drawn to him. Like you want to prove to him that no, you don’t regret it at all.
So, you gather your courage and move closer on the couch, knees brushing his as you keep your eyes locked.
“No,” you shake your head slightly, “it’s the opposite really. I… I wanted you so bad it scared me.”
He moves closer too. Now that he hears your confession, he finds more confidence to cup your cheek, thumb brushes the apple gently, “yeah? Why? Did I scare you?”
“Not you,” you sigh, feeling his caresses, “just… I feel like a bad mom because for the first time in a long time, I wish I didn’t need to think about being a mom for a while and just…”
“Just…” he trails off, thumb moving closer to your lower lips, trying to control his urges seeing you close your eyes momentarily.
“Just be with you. Truly be with you.”
“You don’t need to forget about being a mom to be with me, I don’t mind that part of you at all, you just need to tell me what you feel and I’ll try to adjust as much as I can.”
“I know, that’s why I’m saying it’s not you, it’s me,” you lean your cheek deeper into his palm, “it’s scary because that night I was really disappointed and frustrated that… she woke up while I’m… while I wanted…”
He can sense your wants just by seeing the look on your face, so Jungkook moves even closer, his other hand moves to your nape, making your breath hitch, “you wanted what?” he leans down to you, nose brushing your jaw gently.
Your sanity officially leaves the chat when he finally kisses the back of your ear, an open mouthed one that leaves your skin wet but God you don’t mind at all. You can feel slick gushing from your core just from that one move. Your hands move instinctively around his neck, pulling him closer, “I want you, God, I want you so much.”
“Yeah? I want you too,” he trails kisses down your jaw, “can’t stop thinking about you it’s driving me insane,” as his lips brushes yours, he stops, closing his eyes, he mumbles against your lips, “let me have you?”
Your answer comes by taking his lips into a deep kiss, tightening your hold around his neck as he maneuvers you to sit on his lap, your thighs part to trap him in between yours.
It’s been too long for you to feel this desired, even just from a kiss. The way he moves your head, his tongue begging for entrance before battling yours, everything he does ignites the fire inside you.
“Can I have you?” he asks again, hands starting to move downwards towards your back, silently waiting for your answer before touching you in places he really desires.
“I’m yours, Kook,” you kiss him again before leaning back a little, fingers fiddling with the buttons of your blouse while keeping your eyes locked on him. It spurs you seeing how darker his eyes are getting. Lips red and swollen from the makeout session earlier, he rests his head against the couch, licking his lower lip.
“Show me what’s mine then.”
Holy hell, never knew being commanded like this makes you so aroused. So you unbutton your blouse slowly, giving a peek of that white lace bra you specifically picked earlier because sue you for being prepared.
You’re just a second done from peeling your blouse off when his hand palms your breast. Thumb grazing your nipple through the lacey fabric already making you whimper.
Jungkook leans forward, lips peppering kisses around your collarbone as he whispers against your skin, “pretty, is this mine?”
“Y-yes.”
“Show me what else is mine,” he commands after giving your chest a sloppy kiss and leans back again, waiting for you to make your next move.
You take the cue and get on your feet to take off your pants, trying your best to be seductive and sexy, but Jungkook can see your hands trembling so he leans forward to hold your hand.
“Hey, hey, you okay? We don’t have to do this.”
“No,” you firmly reply, because you DO really want it. It’s just… it’s been a while for you and the fact that you’ve only been intimate with your ex-husband has just dawned on you as you are lowering down your pants.
“I mean, I want this, it’s just… been a while.”
“I get it,” he responds, pulling you gently to his lap again–sans pants now, “come here, let me make you feel good,” lips peppering kisses down your neck, “don’t be shy, baby, feel what you’ve done to me,” he pulls your hips down against his hardened bulge under his sweatpants.
“Nghh,” you can help but moan when finally feeling that long awaited friction against your damp panties.
Seeing how you like it, Jungkook holds your butt with both hands before getting up, making you hold onto him tightly as he carries you across the room to where you assume is his bedroom.
Turns out you’re right, because then he lays you down on the bed, comforting cool cotton against your skin as you regulate your breathing from seeing him take off his hoodie first, and then a plain white t-shirt, before his bare torso greets your eyes.
And what a magnificent view it is. You finally get what you’re wishing for, to witness his tattoo along his right arm until the upper part of his chest. His shoulder to waist ratio is borderline sinful.
As your eyes trail down, the obvious tent on his grey sweatpants makes you both gulp and gush. You don’t think you ever salivate over a man like this before.
But before you can think further, Jungkook gets on the bed, caging you in, cups your face with one hand before kissing you again. You don’t waste anymore time exploring his body. Your smaller hands roam his sculpted body deliberately. And when he moans against your lips in specific places, you can’t help but raise your hips to meet his, chasing that delicious friction to your core.
He shucks his pants off along with his boxer hastily before grinding his hips against yours, “see how much I want you, can you feel it?”
“Y-yes, please, Jungkook…”
“Let me open you up,” he swallows your moan as his finger makes its way inside you, “God you’re so tight like this.”
“Please,” you squeeze his big arms, “please…”
“What do you need? Tell me, Baby,” lips all over your neck and jaw, he slowly adds a second finger, thumb circling on your pulsing clit.
The pleasure intensifies as you feel tears prickling your eyes, hips chasing his hands rapidly, “I need you inside, please…”
“My fingers are inside.”
Even in your state you can make out his smug smirk, teasing you.
“I need your dick, please, put it inside me.”
“Y/N, look at me.”
You pry your eyes open in between desperate whimpers. Gone the teasing smirk, his gaze is deep, focusing on you.
“Promise I’ll make you feel good, okay? Enjoy this with me?”
You nod a few times, breath hitching each second as his fingers move faster.
And then he slows down, taking it out of you as you gasp, already longing for his touch.
Before the cold air can even settle against your skin, he shifts, parting your thighs wider and settling his weight right between them. His length lines up against you, hot and thick, pressing into your slick warmth but not putting it in just yet.
“Fuck,” he closes his eyes momentarily before opening it again, leans down as he brushes his lips against yours, “feel how much I want you, how hard you make me?”
“Please… Kook, I want you too.”
He slowly pushes into you, inch by inch. You let out a shaken whimper as your body stretches to accommodate him. He’s big, that’s the first thing you realize as you feel the stretch is in between pleasure and pain.
“F-fuck,” Jungkook groans into your mouth, eyes half-lidded with pleasure. He stops moving for a second when he feels like he reaches deep enough, lips devouring yours in slow kisses to ease that tension he can feel on your body.
When he feels your hips start moving, searching for more, he begins to move, a slow, deep, devastatingly thorough rhythm. It’s not rough—not yet—but the sheer weight and depth of each stroke are dizzying. Every time he pulls back, it feels like a loss, and every time he drives back in, he leans his full weight into you, making sure you feel the hard press of his hips against yours, anchoring you to the bed.
“Kook, please,” you start to sob with every deep thrust, your fingers digging into the tight muscles of his back, your hips instinctively lifting to meet him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his lips catching yours in a deep, bruising kiss, “fuck you feel so good,” he pairs the kiss with a sudden, sharper angle, hitting a spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and your vision go blurry.
It’s been so long since you’ve been held like this, making the sudden rush of intimacy feels like a physical shock to your system. Every touch of his skin against yours, the heavy slide of him stretching you open, triggers a wave of electricity that ripples straight to your core. And you’re defenseless against it. Your body reacts on its own, you let out a loud moan as your head rolls back into the pillow, your senses entirely overwhelmed.
“Too much?” Jungkook asks, his voice thick with a mix of concern and need. He pauses his moves, chest heaving against yours, but he doesn't pull out. He stays buried deep, letting you feel the pulsing thickness of him.
"No, no, don't stop," you cry out, the words frantic as you hook your legs higher around his waist, "It’s just... I’ve never... God, Jungkook, please."
The thing is, it’s not just the physical aspect of it. It’s in the way he looks at you, touches you like you’re the only thing that matters in this world, the way his large hand anchors your hips as if he’s afraid of losing you makes your heart and body flutter.
"I'm not stopping, Baby, I can’t," he growls, the sweet reassurance melting into a possessive rumble as he begins to move again.
This time, he picks the pace up. Your hips chase him blindly, movements uncoordinated and desperate as you both chase the high. You’re coming apart at the seams, tears spill over your lashes, blurring your vision of his face while you arch more into his heavy, deep thrusts.
One of his hand snakes over your chest, kneading your breast roughly as his thumb brushes hard over the peak. Your hips instantly buck upward against him, a high, broken gasp catching in your throat as your inside walls tighten and begin to throb in anticipation.
“I’m close, I’m so close, Kook, please…”
“Yeah? Come all over me, come on, be a good girl and come for me.”
His deep, gravelly voice is the final push your body needs as white-hot waves of pleasure crash straight through you. Your internal muscles clamp down around him in desperate, tight spasms as the orgasm rips out of you. Pulling him even closer, you cry his name out against his neck, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as your hips tremble violently against his. This might be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your entire life, leaving you a breathless, shivering wreck.
Jungkook groans heavily, his jaw clenching as he absorbs the intense, squeezing pressure of your climax. He holds himself deep inside you for a few seconds, letting you ride out the peak, his hands gently rubbing up and down your thighs to soothe your trembling body.
“That’s it, Baby,” he murmurs, tone softening while peppering soft, comforting presses along your jawline, “did so good, made a mess of my dick.”
When your breath begins to level out, you feel him slightly shift. But he doesn't pull back. Instead, the heavy thickness of him presses deeper, still rock-hard and pulsing against your sensitive walls. A low, warning chuckle vibrates in his chest when you let out a tiny whine.
“Yeah, so… I’m not done with you yet,” he nudges your nose gently, a stark contrast with the way his hard dick is pulsing inside you, “you think you can still handle it?”
“Y-yeah,” because of course you’re still very much physically attracted to him. Especially now with his damp black hair, buffed chest glistening with sweat and oh so intoxicating sex-induced smell of his body. So whatever sensitivity you feel down there, yeah, it really can be negotiated.
You show him by pulling his head closer, capturing his reddened lips with yours in a deep sensual kiss, tongue searching for him while your small hand roams over his tight abs.
“I want you to cum, Kook, fuck me until you cum,” you mumble in between kisses, earning a hiss from him before he picks your body, move up on the bed as he sits against the headboard with you on his lap.
Your hands instinctively hold onto his shoulder, lifting your body, you watch him stroking his dick with one hand while the other guiding your hips slowly down.
You know it’s going to burn a little from this position, but damn it’s worth the pain when he is finally buried to the hilt.
“Fuck, look at you,” he groans, head snapping back against the headboard. With his large hands anchoring you, you begin to ride him. The position allows you to feel him even deeper, hitting new spots that send hot pleasure all over your senses. Jungkook guides your rhythm, thumbs rubbing your hips, pulling you down harder when he needs more pressure.
When you thought he couldn’t look hotter, you’re proven wrong. Not when his glassy eyes darken with desire bore into yours, half-lidded, breath ragged with sweats rolling down from his neck to chest.
He catches your look, a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. His hand cups your face, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, “you look so sexy like this, riding my dick so good, gonna let me have this forever, yeah?”
You nod, tongue brushing his thumb before catching the whole thing and sucking it eagerly.
Jungkook snaps his head back harder this time, strings of curses escape his lips as he bucks his hips faster. Pulling his thumb off of you, he uses it to circle your clit. It really doesn’t take long before you feel that familiar bubbling sensation, waiting to burst. And when he leans forward to take one of your bouncing breasts into his mouth and suck greedily, you feel the coil snaps inside, sending jolts of pleasure all over your body.
Before you can process anything, in one fluid, effortless motion, he pulls you out and shifts you onto your knees between his legs. He reaches down, his fingers gently tangling in your hair to guide your head down toward his lap, where his length is pulsing and heavy.
"Open up for me, baby," he begs, his voice dropping into a rough, desperate whisper as his thumb brushes over your lower lip, “take it for me, let me cum in your pretty mouth please.”
How could you say no when he asks you so nicely, but also, you want it, badly. You want to see him fall apart the way he made you two times earlier. Looking up at him through your lashes, you part your lips and take his hot, heavy length. The sensation makes Jungkook let out a loud, guttural groan, his eyes fluttering shut as his hands tighten in your hair, holding you gently but firmly in place. He begins to move his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, whole body shaking with the strain of holding back.
"So good... fuck, gonna cum," he pants, his breath hitching as the climax finally hits him, fingers anchoring you as he releases inside your mouth. He holds himself there for a few seconds, riding out the powerful, pulsing waves of his climax while whispering breathless, sweet praises to you. You instinctively swallow everything, before wiping your lips with your hand.
Jungkook immediately reaches for you, his strong arms hooking under your arms to pull you upward until you're collapsed against his chest, head tucked under his chin. He holds you tight, large hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over your bare back.
“You okay?” he asks, while you feel a gentle kiss on top of your head.
“More than okay,” you emphasize by nuzzling further into the crook of his neck. Sweat be damned.
The quiet of the aftermath brings a sudden, heavy wave of reality crashing back into your mind. You trace a mindless pattern over his collarbone, the warmth of his skin grounding you, but you can’t shake the thoughts away. What happens after this? And did it happen just because of familiarity?
"Jungkook?" you whisper, voice small inside the quiet bedroom.
“Yeah?”
“What happens after this?”
He stops his movement, peering his eyes down at you, making you a little distracted with those glossy boba eyes, very much different from the intense pair when he railed you into the mattress.
“What I want is to be with you, if you have me. I’ll learn whatever you want me to learn, about your routine, what you need from me in terms of your relationship with your daughter,” he strokes your cheek softly, “whatever it takes to make you feel comfortable, because that's what you’ve given me.”
“Comfort?”
“Yeah.”
“What if that’s just what it is.”
“What do you mean?”
You can see even in faint light how his brows knit together.
“I mean, what if we just fall into a comfortable, familiar area because we already know each other? It's easy to slide back into old patterns when you meet someone from your past. I just... I’m worried that we're confusing nostalgia with something real."
Jungkook shifts slightly, a small, tender smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he frames your face with his two large hands, leaving you no choice but to look at him in the eyes.
"First of all, comfort is not a bad thing," he says, voice steady and convincing, “I know this might look like it, believe me, I struggle with this thought at first too,” his large thumb brushing the apple of your cheek lightly, “tried to convince myself that we’re just old friends, but I realized that friends could also become lovers. And maybe even better, because not only I want to tell you everything about my day, or whatever interesting comes my way, but also…” his thumb grazes your lips, “I want to kiss you too, I want to hug you, I don’t like the idea of anyone giving you romantic attention–”
“Taehyung?” you say while smiling mischiveously.
He chuckles with you, head leans a little to give you a quick smooch, “yeah, honestly it was also the moment when I realized, no, I don’t want her to go on a date with him, or anyone else. Because I want to be the only one who takes you out.”
He pulls you back into his embrace, your hand around his waist as you snuggle closer, “I feel that way too… like… I wanna tell you about my day, about what I feel or what makes me laugh.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, “I haven’t felt being heard for a while now… so…”
He holds you tighter, lips pressing another kiss on the top of your head, “I’ll hear you out, and on the days that I’m not 100% in it, I’ll tell you. And we’ll learn, okay?”
“Okay.”
You both fall into comforting silence, savouring each other’s presence until your bodies adjust itself into an even more comfortable position. Your back against his chest while his arms wrapped around your waist, lips peppering kisses on your shoulder.
“Promise you talk to me if anything’s bothering you, yeah?” he whispers, lips brushing behind your ear.
“Okay… promise you tell me if I did something wrong?”
Jungkook knows it’s a question based on your previous trauma. So he kisses your shoulder, another one lands behind your ear.
“I will. I won’t shut you out, Y/N, we’ll talk, okay? Even when it’s messy, we’ll talk.”
You turn your body to face him, to look him right in the eye to search for any doubt, any crack, but you found none. He just looks at you with genuine determination.
“What’s running inside this pretty head, huh?” he asks, fingers playfully flicking your forehead.
“You know, at that daechang place, when you asked me how I feel about dating.”
“Oh yeah,” Jungkook remembers that conversation, the night he thought you were so cute.
“And I told you, I was confused, because I wanted something but I don’t know what, because I keep calculating about being a mom and also being a single woman.”
“You know you could be both with me,” he adds, lips pressing a firm kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah, so now I know what I want, it’s something just like this.”
Later, before you go into deep slumber with his arms around your waist, you feel like the lingering doubts in your mind finally begin to settle into a quiet sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this history between you wasn’t a crutch, but a foundation. When you broke up all those years ago, it hadn’t been because the feelings died, life had simply pulled you apart before you were ready.
And now, fate had thrown you back together after surviving the wreckage of failed marriages—you, walking away from a husband who couldn’t stay faithful, and Jungkook, untangling himself from a relationship that had choked to death on silence and poor communication. Both of you had been broken down, but had also grown up. As you feel the weight of his arms around you protectively, you realize that the scars you both carried were no longer just baggage. They were lessons. You knew the cost of betrayal, and he knew the danger of staying silent.
Slotting your fingers in between his, you try to believe that this time, the risk might be worth it. Because in this short life, you deserve to love and be loved by the right person. And sometimes, it’s not always a new one.
END
A/N: Thank you so so much for reading, and even more special thanks to those who read the first 2 parts 9 months ago and still want to continue reading this. Again, I'm so sorry for the long update but hopefully the last part make up for it (even just a little hehe).
Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.
Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.
Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan
Chapter Warnings: protective bangtan, anxious mc, mc has a panic attack, more of mc’s background, mentions of bullying, some issues with consent, mc has all the feelings, Hobi bonding with mc, some cuteness overload,
“Thank you for doing this, Noona! We will tag you when it gets posted!” Yeonjun exclaims once you were done filming in front of one of the portraits outside of the café.
“Thank you! It was fun. I could really go for a drink now though!” You laugh as the boys agree with your statement, Taehyun and Soobin pulling your arms and dragging you into the café.
The café was one of the things you didn’t get to see on your tour with Songun, given it wasn’t near the meeting room you met the boys in. You were still shocked when you walked in and realized the café was more like a cafeteria, with many different food options, vendors, and drink options galore. You were awestruck, ignoring the laughter coming from the boys as they dragged you to the smaller coffee vendor.
“What drink would you like, Noona?” Taehyun asked you as he began looking over the options. You looked over the menu but didn’t see anything you recognized so you just told him to pick something out for you.
His eyes grew wide in excitement, animatedly looking over the coffee options as you turned around, looking for a seat nearby. Your knee was giving you trouble as you could feel it shifting with every step you took, and you needed to massage it soon before it inevitably popped out.
You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your new friends, and a sure-fire way to do that was to have your body work against you. You couldn’t stand the looks you would get whenever you had to pop something back in or massage your body to counteract the pain you felt in your joints.
You moved to the counter to pay, only after receiving a weird look from the barista did you realize you forgot you didn’t have to pay for anything. You nod your head awkwardly, not waiting for the boys as you moved to the closest seat and began massaging the muscles around your knee cap. You couldn’t stand up any longer or you knew your kneecap would pop out.
You sit down slowly, with care, and place your drink on the table before bending down a little to massage the muscle to the side of your knee cap. It was a long-practiced massage, something your specialist recommended to you when you were in school and always on the move. You were regretting not bringing your cane with you today, thinking you wouldn’t need it.
You always did this to yourself. You had a good day yesterday, so you thought you would have one today. But of course, why would you have two good days in a row?
“Are you okay, Noona?” Taehyun had come up to you, noticing you had disappeared from next to him. He was concerned that you were hurt, seeing you rub at your knee. The entire building knew about your disability, a few concerned words overheard by one of the staff after walking past Jin and Sejin had spread to everyone within the span of an hour.
Your head shot up at Taehyun’s question, not realizing he was standing in front of you.
“Y-Yes, I’m okay.” You nod your head as you speak, trying to reassure him you were fine, but failing to do so as your stutter gives you away. You try to play it off as you forgot the word for yes, but he just shook his head.
“Do we need to go get hyungs?” Taehyun asks just as the others walk over.
“Go get hyungs for what?” Beomgyu questions Taehyun before seeing you and the way you were practically cradling your knee. “Ahhhhhh.” He nods his head in understanding.
“Do you need us to go get the hyungs?” Heuning Kai ask you softly, leaning over so he was almost whispering in your ear. You appreciate the sentiment, but it seems people were beginning to look your direction anyway.
You look around shyly, not wanting everyone to know what was going on.
“Everyone is curious about BTS hyungs’ soulmate.” Yeonjun states, seeing the way you were looking around. “The announcement was pretty big, especially after the one they put out about trying to find you.” You let out a sigh at his words, understanding what was going on but that didn’t mean you necessarily felt comfortable with all the looks.
“Why don’t we take you back to Hyungs? They should be having a break right now…” Yeonjun trailed off as he looked at his phone.
“Okay.” You stood up slowly, testing your weight on your knee, hiding your wince at the sharp pain.
“Oh! I promised them I would bring them something back from the café!” You make for the counter again but hands gently push you back into your seat.
“Rest, noona. We will go get hyung’s favorites!”
-*-*-
And grab their favorites they did. Not only did they arrive back to the table with three drink carriers and two paper bags filled with pastries, but they insisted to helping you to bring everything back to the practice room, Soobin even assisting you in walking once he realized you were favoring your leg.
“You better put your arm back by your side, Soobin!” You chastis for the third time, seeing him bring his arm back out to try and carry you. He kept insisting that he didn’t want you walking on your leg and that he should carry you back to the room, but, of course, you insisted the opposite. You weren’t fragile and didn’t need to be carried anywhere.
“Hyung, will you get the door please!” Beomgyu and Taehyun plead out, trying to not have the drink carriers fall as they make it to the door. Soobin looks at you again, before moving over to the door of the boys’ practice room, music still blasting from the speakers. You recognized the song this time as the chorus to Idol plays. As the door opens you begin to limp over to Yeonjun who holds one of the pastry bags and a drink carrier.
“Here, give me one.” You hold your hand out, but he shakes his head.
“Noona, you’re hurt. It’s okay.” He steps back, moving towards the open door but you just follow him.
“I’m fine though! I promise. I just want to help.” You insist again, stepping into the room and still reaching for the pastry bag.
“Noona you’re hurt. You don’t need to be carrying anything.” Yeonjun is stubborn, you’ll give him that, but unfortunately, someone overhears his words. Footsteps come pounding towards you and Soobin and suddenly you are picked up, your chest pressed against theirs and your thighs tossed around their hips.
“Jungkook, I’m fine!” You whine as soon as you realize who picked you up, his scent making you feel calm despite your embarrassment. You slumped in his arms, trying to hide yourself in his sweatshirt hood as he walked away from the younger boys.
“What happened?” You hear Namjoon ask Heuning Kai as he was closest to the leader.
“Y/n Noona hurt her knee at the cafe.” Was his simple reply, not exactly knowing what happened to your knee.
Jungkook carried you over to the seat you were sitting in before, and proceeded to kneel in front of you and holding your leg up so he could look over your knee. He instantly became a “doctor” prodding and running his fingers over the expanse of your knee, trying to feel for anything out of the normal.
Yoongi and Taehyung also came over, leaning over Jungkook and looking at your knee, the three men ignoring your attempts to push them away. You were bordering the line between feeling embarrassed and humiliated and it had your cheeks red and eyes blurring with tears.
“Please stop. I’m fine.” You repeated, trying to get their hands off of you. You didn’t care that they were your soulmates at this moment, you just wanted to go back to your hotel.
“Please stop touching me. I’m okay.” You tried to push Jungkook’s hands away, but he was more focused on your knee, even though his touch wasn’t helping in the slightest. You could tell that the others could hear you, Jimin and Namjoon glancing your way and Hoseok trying to get the focus of everyone off of you by asking the boys what they had brought.
You felt like you were in school again, getting made fun of for your knee dislocating in gym class. You hated everyone watching you, trying to see if you were faking or not, ignoring the pain and tears rolling down your cheeks as your gym teacher stresses over your disfigured knee, wondering if she should call and ambulance.
The insults “attention whore” and “lazy” running through your mind from when you were younger as everyone in the room continues to look at you now, Namjoon and Jimin beginning to walk your way as Jin says his thanks to the boys. One final prod of your knee from Yoongi has you snapping, pushing them away from you and pulling your knee to yourself.
“I asked you to please stop touching me.” You push out, trying to stop the tears already flowing down your cheeks. You were even more embarrassed now, crying in front of them. You hated how emotional you get, especially when you get stuck in your head with your past.
“Baby, I—” You cut off Yoongi, his face shocked at your actions.
“I think I would like to go back to my hotel now.” You whispered, withdrawn, and looking down at your lap. You felt a tug in your chest as Jungkook moved closer, trying to get you to look at him.
“Baby, We’re sorry. We just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“We got worried when we heard Soobinnie say you were hurt. Our instincts took over.” Taehyung finished Jungkook’s thought. Namjoon tried not to interrupt, but he knew he had to.
“Our instincts don’t make us ignore the words of our mate, though. We all heard her ask you not to touch her.” Namjoon scolded the three, even Yoongi looking down in guilt.
“We are all so sorry, Y/n. We should have listened to you; there is no excuse.” Yoongi spoke up, his eyes piercing your own as he spoke.
Jimin, Jin, and Hoseok stood a couple feet away, watching as you close in on yourself. Jimin couldn’t believe how everything changed so quickly. They were making such good progress with you, their bond with you was growing and solidifying and now, he was only hoping you didn’t change hotels and block their numbers.
“Honey, please stay. I know that you want your alone time, but you just entered the next stage of the bond with Jungkook. It will hurt both of you if you are alone for two long now. At least, until we all have completed the bond.” Namjoon explains. “Besides that, I don’t think you really want to be alone right now.” His town turning in on her.
And he was right. The first stage of the bond had just solidified with Jungkook the night before. You knew what would happen if you were apart for long. You also knew you didn’t want to be alone. You hated that he was right about that.
All you wanted was to be comforted, to be wrapped in their arms and told that everything was okay. You’ve never felt like that before. Usually you want to be alone, lying in bed and wrapped under the covers, completely hidden from view.
Now, all you wanted was to be comforted by your soulmates.
One look from you was all it took for Jungkook to lift you off the chair and into his arms, sitting himself down and holding you in his lap. The tug in your chest finally settling, the embarrassment and insecurity slowly ebbing away the longer he held you to him.
Once the others started moving away, Jungkook having motioned to them while you weren’t paying attention, he began to comb his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp as he did so. He knew it helped soothe your mind and calm your body.
“I am so sorry, baby. I need to open my ears and become more aware even with my instincts screaming at me.” He squeezed you a little tighter. “Please don’t be mad at me. Please don’t leave.” You could truly hear the fear behind his words, thinking you would leave them.
Jungkook had really thought he messed up everything. He thought you were going to reject them now; he was so sure about it. He tried not to imagine the pain the others would feel at your absence, and only hoped he could fix things between you.
“I may not…understand the bond like you do.” You started, still trying to find your words. “But I wouldn’t reject you all over something as small as this.” Almost immediately Jungkook began to protest.
“It’s not ‘something small’ if it makes you cry.” He adjusted you on his lap so you were now facing him. “We are all still getting to know each other, still growing the bond our souls have. I can understand if you don’t want to talk about it now, but I would like to know what made you cry so I can fix it.” He brings his palm up to your cheek, cupping it. “I hate seeing you cry. It makes me want to fight who or whatever it is that made those precious tears fall.”
You look down again, trying to decide if you had enough courage to tell him the real reason behind your tears, or a slimmed down version of your feelings.
“I uhm, was embarrassed.” You decide to tell him, to try and explain what was going through your head.
“When I was younger, before the doctors had figured out what was wrong with me, I was just known as “clumsy” and “lazy” by everyone. No one ever taking my pain or injuries seriously. Even doctors just told me it was my weight, despite being healthy. I was told I was just looking for attention.” You tried blinking away your tears, feeling them begin to pool on your waterline.
“It got really bad when physical education became a class in middle school and high school. I hadn’t received a diagnosis yet which meant I had to push my limits for a grade. One day…” You pause, swallowing down the choking sob so you could talk.
“We were supposed to be running the mile for our fitness test. I was in eighth grade and barely lasted one lap before my knee dislocated. It wasn’t the first time any of my joints fully dislocated, but it hurt all the same.” You began to explain the memory you flashed back to. You couldn’t help but grip his shirt tighter, your body full of anxiety.
Jungkook almost wants to tell you to stop. That he doesn’t need to know, not if it makes your heart hurt, or if you are pushing yourself to open up to him. That was the last thing he wanted to do, to push you into anything.
“I remember falling to the ground, my knee in excruciating pain. I hadn’t gotten used to the feeling yet, but I didn’t want to have everyone looking at me and wondering “What did she do now?” like I did this on purpose. I didn’t want anyone’s attention and I remember swearing to myself that I would finish the mile. So, I moved to put my knee back into place but the teacher had already seen me on the floor.” You grimace, remembering vividly how she ran up to you.
“Her voice seemed to be attached to a microphone as she yelled across the field, telling me not to touch my knee and asking if I was okay. She made a huge deal about it, sitting next to me and trying to figure out if she should call an ambulance. She even got another teacher involved.” Jungkook was confused, wanting to know what you meant by making a big deal out of the situation.
“I had spent months already putting my knee back into place and with everyone looking at me I just remember starting to cry, pushing my teacher away. Everyone’s stares on me, the whispers I could hear and the laughter coming from some of my classmates had me feeling humiliated. I felt even worse when my teacher did call an ambulance.” You whispered the last sentence, unable to stop the tears from slowly falling down your cheek.
Jungkook now understood everything, with the help of some of the Soul Bracelet messages he remembered reading. (read: that he continues to read every night so he doesn’t forget anything) He recalled reading multiple messages where you vented about growing up hearing that you needed to stop “attention seeking” and that you were faking your injuries, with classmates making fun of you, and no one believing you, that day was just a culmination of everything at once. Your dislike of attention and being the center of it, especially when injured, now made complete sense.
He couldn’t help it, cupping your cheek and tilting your head up so he could see you. The feeling of your wet skin under his thumb as he wiped away your tears was something he didn’t want to feel again under the circumstances. Placing a soft and slow kiss to your lips, trying to push through his feelings of love and admiration for you, he held you close, closer than he already was.
He knew he would tell the boys this later on, somehow, but for now, you needed him.
“I am so sorry, baby. For everything. I will do my absolute best to stop that from happening again now that I know.” Jungkook kissed your mouth again, a chaste kiss that had your lips tingling. You don’t think you will get used to that, ever.
-*-*-
You were able to be held by Jungkook only for a little bit longer, seeing as they did have things to do today. But after receiving his hoodie again, you were happily snuggled into it eating your forgotten watermelon cup from earlier. You had borrowed Namjoon’s headphones, after repeatedly asking if he was sure, and watched TikToks on your phone.
You don’t know how long has passed before Taehyung is placing kisses to your face in a quick attack to steal your attention. A squeal escapes your lips as the headphones fall off your head and another set of kisses is aimed.
“Oh baby! We’re all finished which means kisses!” Taehyung sings, making you laugh at the reminder. But before he can give your face even more kisses, he is pulled away by Jin.
“Hi, baby. We have some recording to do in the studio, but after that we were hoping to take you to dinner. Then maybe some movies at our place?” Jin smiled at you, seemingly nonchalant but on the inside, he was freaking out. His eyes showed the hope he had for the evening, showed his desire to just get to know you more and spend time with you.
To you, it sounded nice. Just a simple night with all seven of them. It’s not something you’ve had the chance to experience yet. You make the first move this time, moving forward and putting your lips on his plump ones, shocking the man. Jin was in heaven at the feeling of your lips on his and he almost cried when the kiss was over, your big smile aimed at him ones he opened his eyes again.
“That sounds nice, Jinnie.” You verbally respond to his words, making the others silently cheer at your acceptance.
You move to snuggle back into the couch, only for Jin’s hand to move into your line of vision, his palm up and ready for you to take. You look up at him, confusion written on your face.
“You didn’t think we were going to leave you here, did you?” Jin’s tone was teasing but held a real question, wondering if he didn’t make the plans obvious enough.
You did actually think the plan was for you to stay in the practice room. You didn’t know what rooms you had access to yet, despite the boys saying you had access to everything they did. You didn’t know if they were just saying that or not.
“Oh uhm, okay.” You didn’t answer his question, but the blush of embarrassment on your cheeks did. But Jin, nor the others, said anything about it. They knew the relationship between you all was still so new, so innocent that they didn’t want anything to go wrong, not like the incident earlier.
You took his hand and he helped you up off the couch, not letting go of your hand as he led you out the doors and through the building until you reached the studio he was talking about.
On the way to the studio, you walked by numerous staff members but your eyes stuck on the trainees who passed by as well. There were a couple groups of them, probably going from class to class, you thought. They bowed to your group a couple of times, some of them even stopping to bow a full ninety degrees. It was weird seeing it, but you knew it was a show of respect for the boys.
Jin was first up to do his thing in the studio, your eyes barely catching the soft wink he sends you as he gives your hand a small squeeze before letting go and moving into the booth as your vision swept over the recording studio. There were buttons and keys of all kinds and you were curious and wanted to push every single one, needing to know what each button did.
Hoseok caught your eye and put his hand on your lower back, moving you to sit in the producer’s chair and he knelt by your side. He knew it would take some time for Jin to get himself ready in the booth, so he took the time to indulge your curiosity.
The others watched on as Hobi spoke animatedly about the digital audio workstation, pressing buttons and telling Jin to speak into the microphone to show what each button did. Hobi loved the way your eyes lit up when a particular button made Jin sound like a chipmunk. He loved the sparkle in your eye and the fascination with the workstation. He couldn’t help but imagine you and him in the studio one day, making a song together.
When Jin was ready, Hobi let you stay in the chair, telling you what buttons to push while he instructed the room. Hobi, along with Namjoon and Yoongi, were in full producer mode now, but still held patience as you pushed the buttons and used the workstation.
As each member went into the booth, Hobi would let you know how to save the audio and would give you the biggest smile and praise you for your work and help.
“You could be our producer!” He smiled so wide that you ended up blushing under his praise. You felt like a little kid, wanting to do anything to make Hobi smile and praise you again.
“No, no. I’m just pushing the buttons.” You tried to play it off but he just shook his head, shaking his finger at you.
“Nope! You are now our producer.” He stated it with such conviction that you had to look away from him, not wanting him to see you blush, your cheeks surely lobster red by now.
Once the boys were done, two hours or so had passed. Hobi explained to you that they just needed to record some adlibs for their final song for the album, and that it would be quick. Having seen some “Bangtan Bombs” where the boys were in the studio, you could only guess they were normally here for hours and hours a day.
You had been so relaxed and at ease that you didn’t even realize Hobi had slipped his hand in yours, intertwining your hands together so he could hold it. It took him helping you out of the chair for you to notice. You didn’t realize how easy it was to feel comfortable with Hobi, to feel like you had known him forever.
Being with Hobi was easy and simple. Effortless.
It was like you could go to him for anything and you knew he would just smile and listen to you. It also helped that he had a penchant for squeezing your hand in reassurance, as if speaking to you in morse code. He just smiles softly at you and hums under his breath. His actions speak louder than his words, the silence filled with so much that you don’t even notice the silence when you’re with him.
As you all move to the big SUV to go to the restaurant the boys rented out, you pull Hobi so sit next to you, feeling the same way you did with Jungkook the previous day. You wanted to see who he was beyond the cameras of Bangtan that you got to know him from. You had a sweet smile on your face, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you laid your head on his shoulders, smiling softly, wanting to stay in this moment for a little longer.
The car ride was filled with music and lots of talking; Taehyung asking what the name of the restaurant was, Namjoon asking what kinds of movies we all wanted to watch that night, Jungkook asking what snacks we were going to have, all while you and Hobi just talked. You asked him about his family and he asked about yours.
You already knew about his older sister, and he somewhat knew about your siblings, but he
still listened attentively as you talked about your family.
“My older sister is protective and was the one to help me get my diagnosis after my mom passed. She went to every appointment with me and made sure I was eating and drinking. She actually made a joke at one point that you all would be my soulmates, and after I got off the phone with you the first time, I immediately called her.” Hobi smiled as he listened, glad to know that you had someone there for you when they couldn’t be. It hurt to know you suffered through so much in such a short time frame.
He rubbed his thumb across the top of your hand, trying to soothe you as he noticed your voice shaking a little.
“My brother, on the other hand, is also protective, but like the stereotypical older brother way. He is the only other one of us who has met his soulmate. Lena is super sweet and they met in middle school. She’s like an older sister to me.” At some point, everyone else in the car had stopped their conversations to listen to you. They wanted to know everything they could, and they loved knowing you had a supportive family by your side.
When you got to the restaurant, you ended up sitting in between Hobi and Jungkook at the large booth. Jin took control of ordering the food, while Hobi and Jungkook whispered to you what Jin was ordering so you knew what was going on. It was really sweet.
While waiting for the food, you joined in on the movie conversation that Namjoon and Jimin had started. They seemed to be fighting over two different movies and you questioned why you couldn’t just watch them both. They looked at you and began trying to get you to see their point of view.
“We don’t want to watch it again because its boring…”
“He always falls asleep during the best parts!”
“There are so many mindless plot points that…”
Your head was whipping back and forth as you tried to keep up with their arguments, the boys speaking so fast you eventually had to give up. You sat back down in your seat, returning the soft smiles that Jin and Yoongi gave you from across the table.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. They always get this way about movies. We tend to just pick one out and put it on before they notice anyways.” Hobi leans over and whispers in your ear, making you nod your head in understanding.
“They get passionate like this over movies, huh?” You ask, almost rhetorically, as you watch it firsthand. You smiled as you watched them, Jimin throwing sass making Namjoon roll his eyes at the younger man.
“They are more alike than I think they realize.” Hobi whispers back, “They are both passionate beings. Just in different ways. But they both have strong feelings about what they believe in, which makes the debate about which movie to watch an entertaining and sometimes chaotic event.” Hearing his words, you had a new perspective for the two boys, not even just in the capacity of arguing. It was like a new light shown on the two men and it had you wanting to know more about them.
After Hobi’s words, a multitude of waiters came over and placed plate upon plate of food down on the table. The entire table was covered with food and it was at this moment you realized just how much food the boys could eat. You guessed most of the plates would be empty by the time you all were ready to leave.
Your guess was cemented once Jin grabbed his first piece of food, signaling to everyone else that they could start. You didn’t know what to grab, everything looking so good, that you were kind of sitting there in awe. You were shaken out of it though once you saw chopsticks placing meat onto your empty plate.
Hobi, on pure instinct, was making sure you had enough food on your plate before everyone else got their pick. He tried giving you a little of everything, but he also gave you some extra meat pieces, knowing you had a liking for them from your KBBQ trip with the maknaes.
Once Hobi put the first piece of meat on your plate, however, Taehyung and Jungkook noticed and also began putting food on your plate. Soon enough your plate was overflowing with food, and you had to stop your mates from continuing to give you more food.
It was a sweet gesture, but you couldn’t even make a dent in your plate. You ate slowly, savoring every flavor and taste you could. Despite not being used to Korean cuisine yet, you were slowly falling in love with all of it. Unfortunately, you could not handle any spice. You wanted to, but your mouth would slowly descend into flames if you even tried to eat anything even remotely spicy.
So, at one point, you’re pretty sure you asked for a drink refill three times within ten minutes.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked you, noticing you fanning your mouth from the heat as you slowly chewed your food.
“Uhm, yeah.” Your voice was pitched higher as you tried to reassure him you were fine, eyes watering and cheeks heating up.
Jungkook just quirked his eyebrow at you, automatically catching you in your lie. Taehyung was the same way with spicy foods, so Jungkook knew you were battling against the foods he had put on your plate. He didn’t mean to, he only wanted you to be able to try everything.
Movement from the side caught your attention, as Hobi found a small empty plate and began removing everything on your own plate that was spicy and depositing it onto the smaller plate with the help of Taehyung. They both had seen how you reacted to the food and Taehyung helped tell Hobi everything that would give you trouble, knowing from experience.
It was nice and heartwarming; it didn’t make you feel like a burden. Normally if this happened, if you tried to do something about it, like ordering a glass of milk, you friends would make fun of you, or your family would complain that they had to always go through the trouble of not getting what they wanted because you couldn’t handle anything spicy.
Despite having a supportive and loving family, it was hard not to feel like you were a burden growing up. Sometimes a single scoff or deep breath of air from someone could have you becoming silent, trying to hide behind your hair.
The boys didn’t make you feel this way. They didn’t make exaggerated movements as they removed the spicy food from your plate; they only sent you reassuring smiles and glances as they made sure they removed everything.
“It’s okay, baby. I don’t like spicy foods either.” Taehyung reassured you again, before starting to eat his food, not giving the situation a second glance or thought. It was nice and left you smiling as you continued to eat slowly, still struggling with using the chopsticks you were given.
For your first meal with everyone, the boys wanted to document it.
“Okay everyone, smoosh together!” Jin yelled out so he could get everyone into frame on his phone. He was the one taking the selfie, his long arms giving him the advantage as he sat at the end of the table.
You had your cheeks almost pressed to Hobi’s as he had an arm around your shoulder. Your height was not giving you any advantage as you tried not to be hidden by anyone. You were standing on your tippy toes and smiling as big as you could, showing just how truly happy you were in the moment.
This was the first time you truly felt a part of the soul group and connected to each of the boys.
“Okay…and 3, 2, 1!” You blinked as the flash went off, hoping that your eyes weren’t closed in the photo. Jin took a couple of pictures, each one had everyone doing something different, at one point, Jungkook and Hobi both pushed their fingertips into your cheeks causing laughter to bubble from your throat.
“Are you gonna post those on Weverse, Hyung?” Jungkook asked once the photos were taken and everyone was moving towards the doors, content from their bellies being full.
The boys had all tried being active on all of their social media, but they were all still partial to Weverse, liking that they got to interact firsthand with Army. They loved reading the comments on their posts and hoped that you would come to as well.
“Yeah, but I don’t know which one to post.” Jin responded but knew he would probably post a different one to each of the Bangtan Official social media accounts.
He zoomed into your face on the last photo, laughter clear on your face as your eyes were closed. He wanted to take more pictures of you, thinking you were the perfect muse for his camera. He couldn’t help but to think you were the perfect fit for them, for their soul bond.
You are amazing, I just love your writing so much, especially BTS Dad scenarios. I am addicted! So I wanted to ask if you could write some headcanons or short imagine of the BTS members having a child, their gender is up to you, that wants to race. Like they love F1 and racing in general and want to do it as well. I cannot get this out of my head and would die to read something like this. Preferably with Yoongi of Jungkook, but I leave that up to you. I hope that's not to weird, if so just ignore me but thanks in advance.
💌 Reply:
OH MY GOD THIS REQUEST MADE ME SQUEAL LIKE A 10-YEAR-OLD AT THEIR FIRST F1 RACE!!!! 🏎️ (Which, fun fact, was me. I had a Vettel poster on my wall and everything...) THANK YOU FOR THIS MASTERPIECE OF A PROMPT!!!
I loved writing these headcanons and may have fallen into a 3-hour rabbit hole about Asian F4 teams? ADHD isn't a joke xD
If you want a full imagine, my DMs are WIDE OPEN. 🏁 I hope it's what you wanted, if not - let me know.
– c – 💜 ohh and THANK YOU
P.S. tumblr decided to crumble every time I tried to add pics, and my migraine is currently killing me, so please forgive me for the missing pics...
BTS as Racing Dads Headcanons
Pairings: OT7 x Child!Reader (Parent/Child Dynamics)
Rating: PG (K+)
Genre: family fluff, sports drama, hurt/comfort
Warnings: none
KIM NAMJOON (RM)
CHILD
Name: Soo-Yeon (she/her)
Team: Prema Racing (F4 → F3 → F2), Possible Future: Red Bull Junior Team (Engineering-Focused Development Route)
[note: she’ll probably be the only driver who sends Prema engineers correction emails with footnotes]
Personality:
cerebral introvert
quiet obsession for motorsport engineering
not drawn to the glamour of racing but to the physics of it
= fluid dynamics, tire compounds, energy recovery systems
bedroom walls plastered with diagrams of F1 aerodynamics
scribbles differential equations on her homework
HOW IT BEGINS
at age 12
she stumbles upon a documentary about Adrian Newey
becomes fixated
builds miniature wind tunnels out of cardboard and obsessively testing toy car designs
Namjoon finds her at 2 a.m.
= adjusting the angle of a paper rear wing with surgical precision
First Conversation
“Appa, did you know downforce is just controlled air resistance? It’s… math in motion.”
he blinks
coffee forgotten
“You… built this?”
kneels beside her
studying her makeshift lab
“Explain it to me. Slowly.”
NAMJOON’S REACTION
Initial Thoughts
Pride
“She’s a genius. A literal genius.”
Worry
“Racing is dangerous. What if she gets hurt? What if the world exploits her mind?”
Guilt
“Did I push her into overthinking? Is this my fault?”
What He Says
Day 1:
“Let’s start with the basics. What’s your favorite part? The engineering or the speed?”
Week 2:
“I found a junior karting team with a good engineer. Interested?”
SUPPORT & SACRIFICES
education first
enrolls her in STEM camps
tho lets her skip lectures to shadow a Hyundai N mechanic
“Experience is the best teacher.”
karting phase
buys a used kart
insists she designs the modifications herself
“You want to race? Build it first.”
they spend nights in the garage
her hands greasy, his glasses smudged
safety obsession
researches FIA safety protocols
gifts her a custom HANS device for her 15th birthday (Head and Neck Support device)
“Your brain is your greatest asset. Protect it.”
CONFLICTS
First Crash
she flips her kart during a test run
he sprints to the track
panic clawing his throat
finds her already out, scribbling notes on a clipboard
“The roll cage held! My calculations were right!”
His Response
Outward Calm
“Good. Now let’s improve the chassis.”
Inward Meltdown
calls Yoongi at 3 a.m
“Hyung, what if I’m failing her, what if she gets hurt?”
LEAP TO F4
at 15/16
recruited by a Formula 4 team
he negotiates her contract
adding clauses for academic continuity
“You’ll finish school. And change the game.”
Proudest Moment
watching her explain energy recovery systems to engineers twice her age
“That’s my kid...”
Quote to Her
“You’re not just a driver. You’re a visionary. Make them see it too.”
KIM SEOKJIN (JIN)
CHILD
Name: Ha-Eun (she/her)
Team: Kart Republic → Iron Dames (F4/F3), Possible Future: Ferrari Driver Academy (if she pushes herself hard)
Personality
bubbly, competitive extrovert
lives for the thrill of the race and the cheers of the crowd
she’s less about the mechanics
more about the drama
customizing her kart with glitter sticker
naming it “Pink Lightning”
trash-talking Jin (and the rest of Bangtan) during backyard races
her dream?
= be the first (female) F1 driver with a themed victory dance
HOW IT BEGINS
during a family outing at an amusement park
she drags Jin to the go-kart track
overtakes him on the final lap
“BYE, APPA!”
staff hands her a plastic trophy
“I’m gonna be a racing queen.”
First Conversation
Ha-Eun: “Appa, I’m faster than your dad jokes!”
Jin: “Yah! That’s Worldwide Handsome’s kart you’re insulting!”
fake-pouts, then grins
“But fine. Let’s see if you can handle real competition.”
JIN’S REACTION
Initial Thoughts
Pride
“She’s a star. A sparkly, chaotic star.”
Panic
“What if she flips the kart? What if someone breathes on her wrong?”
Excitement
“Finally, a worthy rival for my Singin’ in the Rain karaoke crown.”
What He Says
Day 1:
“Okay, champ. Rule #1: Always let your Appa win. Rule #2: Never follow Rule #1.”
Week 2:
“I booked us matching racing suits. Yours has glitter. Mine has my face.”
SUPPORT & SACRIFICES
themed training
turns practice into “Jin/ Ha-Eun Grand Prix” events
cones become “dinosaur obstacles”
pit stops involve juice boxes and dad-joke riddles
“What’s a race car’s favorite snack? Vroom-sticks!”
safety first (but make it fashion)
buys her a neon pink helmet with “PRINCESS OF SPEED” on the side
“Safety’s boring unless it’s fabulous.”
secretly researches the safest tracks
social media hype
posts slow-mo videos of her wins set to “I’m the Best” by 2NE1
caption: “Future F1 CEO. (P.S. I taught her everything.)”
CONFLICTS
First Loss
she loses a local race by 0.5 seconds
throws her gloves
yelling
“I HATE KARTING!”
Jin’s Response
outward calm
“Okay, let’s hate together. Dramatic sigh I hate… broccoli. And slow Wi-Fi.”
inward angst
texts Yoongi
“How do I fix a broken heart? Asking for a tiny dictator.”
solution
hosts a “Losers’ Party” with pizza, disco lights, and a dance-off
“Win the next race, and we’ll crash a real F1 party. Deal?”
LEAP TO COMPETITIVE KARTING
at 11
she joins a regional league
he becomes her hype man
waving a custom banners
“HA-EUN: FASTEST & PRETTIEST.”
Proudest Moment
watching her podium speech
“Thanks to my Appa, who’s almost as cool as my kart.”
he fake-sobs into the mic
“She’s lying! I’m cooler!”
Quote to Her
“Remember: If you’re not first, you’re… still my favorite. But always try to be first.”
note: definiteley plays EA F1 with her, or the sim but NEVER wins
MIN YOONGI (SUGA)
CHILD
Name: Yumi (she/her)
Team: Hitech GP or ART Grand Prix, Possible Future: Alpine Academy (quiet prodigy path)
[note: pit engineers start whispering, “She sees lines we don’t” after analyzing her onboard footage]
Personality
fierce, stubborn introvert with a gasoline-and-metal soul
she’s tactical
calculating lap times in her head during dinner
thrives under pressure
her idea of small talk?
“Appa, do you think Verstappen’s tire strategy in Singapore ’23 was reckless?”
HOW IT BEGINS
at 10 (after years of building Carrera tracks, and decorating her walls with team posters)
she discovers an old racing sim in Yoongi’s studio
he’d bought it years ago (probably for a one time try)
she sneaks in
cracks the top 10 global leaderboard under the username “SHADOWSPEED”
Yoongi finds her asleep at the rig
hands still gripping the controller
First Conversation
“…You did this?”
gestures to the screen where her lap record glows
Yumi: “It’s not hard. Just physics.”
Yoongi: “Wear these. The engine sounds are better.”
silently hands her his noise-canceling headphones
YOONGI’S REACTION
Initial Thoughts
Pride
“She’s a goddamn prodigy.”
Terror
flashbacks of his own accident
= rain-slick roads, injured shoulder, the smell of burnt rubber
“What if she…?”
Resolve
“If she’s gonna do this, I’ll make sure she’s safe. Even if it kills me.”
What He Says
Day 1:
“You want to race? Fine. But you learn to fix the engine first.”
Week 2
slaps a fireproof racing suit on the kitchen table
“Try it on. Before you argue.”
SUPPORT & SACRIFICES
karting phase
buys a secondhand kart
spends months reinforcing the chassis himself (with her)
“Safety isn’t optional. Ever.”
F4 debut
pulls all strings to get her a spot on a team
insists on meeting every engineer
“The car’s data system is shit. Upgrade it or I walk.”
rainy day ritual
texts her a single emoji before wet races: 🌧️
code for “Don’t be a hero. Just come home.”
CONFLICTS
Crash
she spins out during a monsoon-like F3 qualifier
Yoongi watches from the pit wall
jaw clenched so tight he almost cracks a molar
when she limps back, he barks
“You’re done.”
Her Rebellion
Yumi: “You don’t get it! This is my life!”
Yoongi: “I do get it. I’ve..”
slams his fist on the table
voice shaking
rolls up his sleeve
shows the surgery scar on hie shoulder
“This is what ‘life’ looks like when it goes wrong.”
Resolution
they don’t speak for days
Yoongi appears at her door with a helmet
modified with extra impact padding
“Race smart. Or I’ll sell the sim.”
SUZUKA GIFT
her 14th birthday
he tosses her an envelope
inside, two VIP passes to the Japanese Grand Prix
“Pack your bags. And… bring a notebook. Take notes on the real pros.”
At Suzuka
she vibrates with excitement
scribbling notes on tire temps and apex speeds
Yoongi is silent
grips her hand during the start
“If you ever…”
he stops
clears his throat
“Just watch, yeah?”
that night, he admits it over ramen
“I hate this. But I'd hate seeing you not do it more.”
ONGOING SUPPORT
custom safety gear
commissions a fireproof suit
her name stitched inside
“For luck. Don’t tell the team.”
post-race ritual
plays her a lullaby-like piano track he composed
“Checkered Flag Lullaby”
it calms her adrenaline
legacy
secretly funds a junior racing scholarship in her name
“So the next kid doesn’t need a scared shitless dad to make it.”
JUNG HOSEOK (J-HOPE)
CHILD
Name: Min-Jae (he/him)
Team: Williams Racing Young Design Talent → Karting Support Team Livery Artist → Mercedes Junior Creative Division, Possible Future: Lead Livery Director for Mercedes or independent design phenom running his own F1 visual branding agency
Personality
bubbly, hyper-creative whirlwind with a neon imagination
hands are perpetually stained with marker ink
tarted sketching liveries at 5
he talks a mile a minute about "making cars dance with colors!"
he names his designs things like “Rainbow Rocket” and “Glitter Shark”
HOW IT BEGINS
at 5
Min-Jae scribbles a chaotic, crayon masterpiece on the living room wall
= a race car with rainbow flames and polka-dot wheels
J-Hope, mid-dance practice, freezes
“Yah! Is that… a car?”
he beams
“Appa, it’s faster than your moves!”
First Conversation
“Explain this. Now.”
trying to sound stern but failing miserably
Min-Jae: “The polka dots are speed bubbles! And the rainbow is for when it flies!”
J-Hope: “…You’re a genius. But never draw on walls again. Here, use this.”
hands him a F1 sketchbook
J-HOPE’S REACTION
Initial Thoughts
Pride
“My kid’s a creative monster! Look at those colors!”
Panic
“How do I nurture this without our house turning into a graffiti warzone?”
The last thing Taehyung expected was to end his routine trip with a man falling into his arms and being the answer to what he’d only just begun searching for.
Please Read: Kim Taehyung (BTS V) one-shot, exes-to-lovers, jealousy, Fic!Taehyung has possessive and dominating tendencies, intense yearning, passionate romance, cheating (by Y/N on her fiancé), mentions of physical intimacy, taehyungxfem!reader
masterlist
"A solitary glimpse of yours leaves me threadbare,
hopelessly flailing, but, in love, nevertheless"
V, a single alphabet, bold-lettered etching sets her heart racing.
The pristine, white wedding gown sat nestled atop the oak-wood table and its mermaid silhouette seemed to smoulder in the dim-lit crevice of the room, much to the chagrin of Y/N.
The tag of the custom designer-wear glowered at her: V, a single alphabet, bold-lettered etching on the label set her heart racing at an abnormal pace, almost as if replicating her desire to run away from the guilt collating at the pit of her stomach or the peculiar tightening of her chest.
Junmyeon's tranquil aura and pure-hearted smile wafted through her conscience once again; perhaps she could wrest the strength from her mind and body to marry him on the forthcoming Friday, in a mellow afternoon ceremony in a small-town, tucked deeply into the countryside, just like they had always envisaged. Perhaps, the wedding could extinguish the soul-splitting wildfires raging in her thoughts, once and for all. Perhaps, a sacred commitment to Junmyeon wouldn't let her thoughts linger on the pair of deep-set eyes that seemed to permeate through her entire being, with a blistering intimacy that nearly turned her inside-out.
Her stint as a fashion designer with the luxury brand V had been punctuated with an array of achievements: she had conceptualised the aesthetic for the seasonal collections, worked on assortments of exquisite accessories, undertaken painstaking market-research, overseen the creation of mood-boards and most ardently, catered to the whimsical demands of the creative director, Kim Taehyung.
Taehyung's whiplash-inducing attitude often left her enervated, but, determined nevertheless. Soon enough, their workplace equation ambled into convoluted territory once Taehyung made his feelings for Y/N well-known. Tussling with her own complicated emotions for Taehyung, Y/N relocated her enviable professional achievements and aspirations and left V behind to join another fashion house, only to have a trove of the remnants of a past and an unfinished romance follow her around which inched closer with every breath that she took.
After almost a year of a stretching communicational void with Taehyung, seeing a wedding dress, marked with the label V, stupefied Y/N. In the past year she had met Junmyeon, fallen for his good soul, his simplistic, translucent charm; there was nothing complicated about him, no serpentine schemes simmering beneath his skin and no façades; he had to be the one. On a summer night, whilst Y/N swayed in her seashell-blue dress, Junmyeon proposed, and Y/N could not come up with a coherent reason to say no, so she wore an amiable smile and nodded. Junmyeon was overjoyed, so she decided she should be too.
Taehyung's name continued to flitter through her thoughts, indelible and somehow, even more stubborn after her engagement. As Y/N agonised over the delivery of the wedding dress that she had not even ordered, a knock resounded through the quiet room. Y/N realised how late it was, and cautiously peeked through the peephole carved in the door; it was the Kim Taehyung himself, in all his unholy glory, black-shirt crumpled after a workaday, the top two buttons undone, chocolate curls disheveled and splayed across his forehead, leaning against the door-frame. Y/N let out a sigh, baffled and yet, not surprised by his visit.
As palpitations reverberated through her body, Y/N unlocked the door, to face Taehyung; there were dark purple half-moons buried underneath the folds of his hypnotic eyes, his sweat-drenched hair was not its usual immaculate self and a bewildering smirk hung on his impossibly pink lips: how could he manage to look so ravaged and enchanting at the same time?
"Hope the gown is to your liking. I toiled day and night to craft the perfect gossamer, untainted snow-white wedding couture that you had always wanted. Consider it a parting gift from the V house of fashion. I would be lying if I said I did not feel envious of the way the fabric gets to cling to your waist," he drawled.
Taehyung's presence in the confining space of the doorway was suddenly heavy, almost oppressive. Y/N found herself curling inwards, shrinking herself as he loomed, eyeing Y/N. Y/N could not utter the words she had been mentally rehearsing for months; his midnight eyes seemed to singe her very soul. She wore a blank expression; her lips were parted but, remained wordless.
"I read about you and Junhyuk. Perhaps you already have a dress. But is it as dreamy as the one I designed for you?" a haughty smile latched onto his godly features.
"Junmyeon. His name is Junmyeon. And yes, your parting present is a little too late, and I already have a dress that I plan on wearing on my wedding day. Thank you for your concern, but, it is not really needed," Y/N suddenly found herself fuming at his audacity, and more so, at his ability to be so alluring even in his passive-aggressive hostility.
Y/N huffed and trudged through the corridor towards the living room, knowing Taehyung would follow. He deftly shut the door with his boot-clad foot and twisted the doorknob, savouring the residual warmth with his palm: the warmth that was smattered on it from the moment when Y/N had clutched, twisted and untwisted it, in dizzied anticipation after seeing his face.
"I will make you some coffee. Then you may be on your way, and please take the dress with yourself, perhaps, it could be a display in one of your offices, for the interns to emulate. It is too beautiful to perish in the corner of my wardrobe," Y/N willed herself not to look into his eyes, which seemed to carry a skyful of intensity, and wreak havoc on her knees, making her feel collapsible, feeble and powerless under his gaze; as she turned towards the kitchen, she felt a sharp tug at the small of her back.
Taehyung spun Y/N, spread his legs, trapping her between them and rested his large hands on her waist, and the heat garnered within his fingertips soaked through her flimsy camisole top, scorching her insides. He patiently studied the contours of her face, softly tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her now reddened ear, and his eyes leisurely strolled over the nape of her neck and the crescent-pendant hanging lowly onto the dip of her cleavage. Y/N's quivers melted into his warm, honeyed skin as she attempted to gather the courage to push him away, but she felt utterly depleted by his all-consuming stare.
"Wonder how Junmyeon would feel about this," Taehyung said in a hoarse whisper, tangling his right hand with her hair and unhurriedly leaning towards Y/N's lips. She could smell the faint traces of whiskey and the afterthought of a mint on his breath; his cologne seemed to cloud her senses, and overpower her rationality. Taehyung grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, the pendant gifted by Junmyeon teetered on the seams of her top, as her chest touched Taehyung's firm one. With a careful tilt, Taehyung lifted Y/N's chin with his fingertip, compelling her to look at him, almost as if he could feel her visceral weakness.
There was something peculiarly animalistic about how he gasped and littered her neck with open-mouthed kisses, and Y/N, like a docile prey, submitted. It was an emotional stature that she had never experienced with Junmyeon: the relationship that she had with him felt equal, but, with Taehyung, it was always him who had the upper hand. The chasm of inequity between Y/N and Taehyung was almost palpable: he was alarmingly controlling and made her feel vulnerable and helpless; in retrospect, it was one of the reasons that she had chosen to leave the relationship behind, but, Taehyung continued to be the perpetual subject of her yearning, her favourite "what if" to obsess over.
"You should leave," Y/N whispered and Taehyung, towering over Y/N, responded with a dry chuckle, cupping her face and stroking her cheekbones excruciatingly slow, as his other hand slithered its way down to her chest, making her choke out breathless whimpers.
"I only came here to congratulate you. Does it feel liberating to marry him? Does it feel good to see me writhe in pain? Isn't this what you wanted? I bet your Junmyeon is so good to you," Taehyung gritted the last bit of the sentence through his teeth whilst toying with the spaghetti straps of her top.
"Taehyung, I hate to break it to you, but, you cannot come here on the pretext of the dress or congratulating me, only to mess with my head. Please," Y/N stated, pushed his chest away with her hands, lightly, and half-heartedly. Seeing him again had stirred up emotions within her that she so desperately wanted to obliterate.
"I would leave. But, only after you assure me that you no longer feel anything for me," Taehyung grumbled, responding to her resistance by pinning both her forearms against the wall.
Y/N's trembling lips did not hold an answer; all that they did encase was temptation. Taehyung found himself inexplicably drawn to her from the very day they had begun working together. A year from their breakup, learning about her engagement to Junmyeon had profoundly wrecked him; it had been a routine Saturday as he worked on the designs for an upcoming collection, when he came across a tabloid article about SH Limited conglomerate founder, Junmyeon's proposal to the celebrity fashion designer, Y/N; she had said yes, and it was rumoured that a date had already been set. He roamed through his beachside penthouse with a crazed look plastered on his face, unable to accept the reality or even form an appropriate response to the whole ordeal. Melancholic thoughts whizzed through his head at the sight of Junmyeon in the morning paper, which he ended up crumpling and throwing in the trashcan. It wasn't until the very last week until her wedding that Taehyung could bring himself to face her.
"Taehyung, I am not capable of lying to you. So, I want you to know that I feel a certain way for you and I would always do. But, I cannot hang on to that feeling for the rest of my life. I love Junmyeon," Y/N muttered in a low tone, almost as if lulling herself into denial.
"Love Junmyeon? Do not humour me. Why are you trying so hard to act like you belong to someone else when all you know is how to be mine. You have always been mine. I have ached ever since the day you chose not to be with me," Taehyung placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, with his fingers lightly nipping at the waistbands of her mini-skirt. Y/N ripped his hands away from her lower abdomen and exhaled sharply; there was no winning when it came to Taehyung.
"Please let me be a better boyfriend. Please let me do better this time. You said I stifled you with my possessiveness, right? That little Junmyeon of yours, I bet he is no angel, especially after he will find out about today. I will tone it down. I will be whoever you need me to be," Taehyung was the one pleading and yet, it was him who seemed to dominate the milieu.
"Can you feel just what you do to me?" Taehyung bent his knees, angling them around Y/N's thighs and pressed his core against Y/N's stomach. After drinking in the visual of a Y/N who is short of breath, desperately trying to form a smart comeback but, ultimately surrendering to Taehyung's dark enticement, he reveled in the feeling of having vanquished her reluctance and her rejection; he had finally defeated Junmyeon.
Taehyung dropped his head down and swiftly placed his lips on Y/N's. His hands hovered over her exposed back, holding onto her greedily. Their mouths moved in unison, with Taehyung hungrily swallowing her sighs and her moans. His right hand trailed over her soft thigh, lifting her skirt and leaving behind a stream of flames on Y/N's skin. "I am sorry. I love you, I love you. I cannot believe you are all mine," he chanted as he peeled the straps of her top off her shoulders.
Y/N woke up to sunlight flooding her room and a familiar face peering at her through his dark-hued curls. She wrapped the silk duvet around her unclothed body as she looked groggily at Taehyung, who was sprawled in a tiger-like disposition on her bed, smiling victoriously.
"You cannot marry Junmyeon in good conscience after this, can you?"
A wistful tear rolled down Y/N's cheek when she saw the crescent pendant carelessly thrown across the bedroom as she felt Taehyung push her hair aside and place a delicate kiss on her shoulder blade.
"So, when does the Junmyeon-purge begin?"
Disclaimer
This is a work of fanfiction with fictional characters. I do not claim ownership to the aforementioned characters. This fanfiction has been written solely for entertainment. This has no relation to real life.
This is a work of fiction with all fictional characters.
Authors Note: Hello! Here I am again hahah I'm just getting excited because things are starting to happen and im also ifuhoidsajd lol so here's another chapter!
I might also be writing like a crazy person to distract myself of the fact that they are almost back and the days cannot pass faster hahah
lots of love!
Kiki
ps:
hehe sooooo....
Also, for my people who are waiting on Jungkook, patience my young padawans, his time will come. Fear not ;)
---------
You didn’t mean to fall asleep.
But the light in your apartment is different now — not the pale, unforgiving kind from earlier, but something warmer, stretched long across the floor like the day is trying to leave without making a sound. Late afternoon, maybe. Or early evening. The kind of in-between light that makes everything feel a little softer, a little slower. Dust floats lazily through the air, catching in the golden slant that filters through the half-closed blinds.
It still smells like peppermint. Faint, but still there. Soft and clean and ghostlike. The mug on your coffee table is empty — no trace of warmth left in the ceramic, but the shape of it feels recent. Like someone placed it down gently. Like someone didn’t want to wake you.
The blanket over your legs is still tucked neatly at the sides, folded in at the edges like a quiet gesture you almost missed. You blink slowly, staring at it for a few seconds before it registers — Jimin is gone.
He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t need to. You also hadn’t expected a goodbye, not really. He moves through space like water — he fills it, carries you if you let him, and then leaves without asking for anything. And somehow, what he leaves behind feels more meaningful than words ever could.
The apartment is quiet now. Still.
The kind of stillness that makes you aware of your own heartbeat. The soft hum of the refrigerator. The faint creak of the wood under your couch as you shift your weight. Every sound amplified by the absence of another presence.
But it’s not a lonely kind of quiet. Not quite. But a bit lonely, nevertheless.
You exhale, long and slow, letting your head fall back against the cushion.
There’s a light pressure behind your eyes — the last trace of the hangover, maybe, or just the ghost of the dream you had before Jimin showed up. You can’t remember it now. Just a feeling. A sharpness. That sensation of being underwater without knowing how you got there.
Your limbs feel heavy, but not weighed down. Just… warm. Like you’ve been wrapped in a cocoon you didn’t realize you needed.
And now, you feel the absence.
Your eyes flutter shut again — just for a moment. Not to sleep, but to feel the room. The shift.
It's strange how easy it is to feel when he's gone.
You stay there, breathing. Letting the quiet wrap around you, slow and padded, like the world is giving you a little more time before it starts spinning again. Your fingers curl slightly under the edge of the blanket. The couch cushions dip just the slightest beneath you. Everything feels still in a way it hasn’t for days.
And yet…
It’s not just stillness that settles in your chest.
It’s something else, too.
A hum you can’t quite place. A presence that doesn’t belong to the peppermint or the folded blanket or even to Jimin’s echo.
You try not to name it. Try not to go there.
But your thoughts are already pulling in another direction.
His direction.
The way Jungkook had looked at you yesterday — not during a conversation, not in any obvious way, just in a moment you happened to glance up — like he saw something he hadn’t expected to see. The way his mouth had twitched like he wanted to say something but didn’t. The way he didn’t look away until you did.
You hadn’t thought about it much at the time.
Now you can’t seem to stop.
The silence stretches again.
And then — the buzz.
Sharp against the cushion. One short vibration. Then another.
You open your eyes, slowly. Turn your head toward the sound.
Your phone is still facedown. Like it knew you wouldn’t be ready.
You reach for it, thumb dragging across the screen. It lights up — too bright at first — and you squint, blinking against it.
Two notifications.
The first one makes you snort softly, right on cue.
[My one and only true love 3:43 PM]: Okay. I’m really giving you a break today.
[My one and only true love 3:45 PM]: But tomorrow? I want names.
[My one and only true love 3:45 PM]:And context.
[My one and only true love 3:45 PM]:And height-to-hotness ratios.
You consider replying. You even start to type.
But the second notification catches your eye — and suddenly your fingers pause.
[JK 1:12 PM]: Still alive?
Your thumb stills above the keyboard.
The words are short. Barely anything. Just enough.
But you feel them settle in your chest anyway.
You stare at the screen, heart thumping slightly out of step.
You don’t know why it feels heavier coming from him.
Maybe because everything from him feels like it might mean something — even when it doesn’t.
Maybe because you still don’t know how much space he’s meant to take up in your day.
Or maybe because… you kind of hoped he would text. And now that he has, you don’t know what to do with that hope.
You type back, simple.
[ You 3:46 PM]: Depends who’s asking.
The reply comes faster than you expect. Like he has been waiting near the phone the entire time.
[JK 3:46 PM]: Just someone who heard you lost a fight to soju.
Your brows lift.
So he knows. Somehow. Someone told him.
But who?
You hesitate, then reply:
[JK 3:47 PM]: Amazing. Didn’t realize my downfall was public info.
[JK 3:47 PM]: It is now. You set a new record, apparently. Very dramatic.
You roll your eyes. But you’re already smiling. Just a little.
You tap your fingers against the edge of the phone, then type:
[You 3:47 PM]: Glad to know I’m leaving a legacy.
And then — a pause. A longer one.
Not longer then a minute. Just long enough to make you wonder.
Then his message blinks across the screen:
[ JK 3:48 PM]: You always do.
You stop.
You stare at the words until the screen begins to dim, and you tap it once to keep it lit. You don’t reply. You don’t know how.
Because you’re still figuring out what any of this is.
Still figuring out what it means when someone like Jungkook says something like that — not just to you, but about you.
And if you’re being honest with yourself — really honest — you know it’s not just the words.
It’s the way your pulse stutters now.
The way your stomach tightens, just slightly.
The way you let your phone rest gently on the blanket beside you, like the weight of it might say too much.
You exhale, slow.
Outside, the city is still moving. Somewhere far off, a car honks. Someone laughs in the hallway.
But inside your apartment, it’s just you. And that message. And the strange little ache blooming behind your ribs.
-----
The next day at work passed in a strange kind of haze.
The hangover was gone. The peppermint scent had faded from your hoodie, and the apartment felt emptier than it did the night before — though a blanket still folded neatly on the couch gave away that Jimin had really been there. You hadn’t heard from him since, just a message in the morning saying “Hope today’s kinder to you.”
You hadn’t answered.
There was too much noise in your head already — leftover static from dreams, memories, text messages that said you always do. And then there was work. The usual rush of prep before a Run BTS shoot, the whole office tense but pretending to be casual. Scripts, gear, last-minute call time changes. People bumping into each other and pretending it wasn’t on purpose.
By 6:40, someone shoved a clipboard into your hands with a breathless “Can you take this to Studio B?”
You were already halfway down the hall when you realized you didn’t mind the errand.
You didn’t really want to be around anyone.
Except when you open the door to the smaller recording studio, it isn’t empty.
Jungkook’s already there.
He’s lounged back on the old leather couch, hoodie hood bunched behind his neck, legs sprawled comfortably. One of his feet bounces in the air, heel tapping the ground. He’s got his phone in hand and one earbud in, but it’s hanging halfway out, like he forgot about it.
He doesn’t see you at first. He’s grinning — really grinning — shoulders shaking with that soundless laugh you’ve seen when something online catches him just right. You freeze for half a second in the doorway, not sure whether to step back or knock or just stand there like a forgotten extra.
Then he looks up.
And you don’t know why it feels like you’ve been caught.
“Oh,” he says, still half-laughing. “You scared me.”
“I knocked.”
“You didn’t.”
You blink. “…I thought I did.”
He smiles, and it makes your stomach shift a little too fast.
You hold up the clipboard in your hand. “Dropping these off. Tomorrow’s call sheets.”
He nods and nudges the coffee table with his foot. “You can leave it here. Unless you want to read it out loud. Make it dramatic.”
You roll your eyes but cross the room anyway, placing the clipboard down gently on the edge of the table. You don’t miss the way his eyes flick toward you as you do — just for a second. A blink. But it’s there.
“Did you volunteer for this?” he asks, voice light.
“Why?”
He shrugs, stretching his arms behind his head. “I mean, it’s almost 7. Kind of feels like you wanted the walk.”
You glance at him, trying to keep your voice neutral. “Kind of feels like you’re reading too much into it.”
He laughs again — not unkind. Not sharp. Just… amused.
“I’ve been told I do that,” he says shrugging. “Once or twice.”
You hover by the table a moment longer, unsure if you’re dismissed or just lingering. But before you can move toward the door, he speaks again — this time a little quieter, but still casual.
“By the way… thanks. For the whole… mess the other day.”
You blink. “You mean—?”
He nods once. Doesn’t elaborate. Just lifts his hand in a little wave like he’s acknowledging something in the air between you both.
“I didn’t know you knew I helped with that.”
He gives a soft scoff. “Please. You’re the only one who would’ve made the managers sound like a calm older sister who’s also on the verge of quitting.”
You almost smile. “That’s… disturbingly accurate.”
“I thought so.”
Silence settles again, but it’s not uncomfortable.
He leans forward to pick up his phone, scrolling aimlessly now. You turn toward the door.
“You’re on the schedule at 8:45,” you say over your shoulder. “Try not to be late.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“More like a prayer.”
He huffs another laugh behind you. “See you tomorrow.”
You don’t look back when you leave, but you do catch your reflection briefly in the narrow studio window — the way your shoulders are still a little too stiff, your expression a little too carefully blank.
But your heart?
It’s doing that thing again.
The quiet kind of racing.
-------
The studio was already buzzing by the time you arrived.
Staff filtered in and out of the side doors, trailing wires and clipped walkies, the usual pre-shoot chaos humming under every breath. You tucked your phone into your back pocket, tried not to think about the last conversation you’d had with either of them, and slid the call sheet onto the production table like it didn’t weigh more than it should.
Run BTS days always carried a different kind of energy. It wasn’t just content — it was the boys being themselves, half-scripted and half-chaotic. You’d noticed, over time, how even the quietest ones came alive here. Something about being in front of the camera without the full weight of an idol performance made them playful in a way that was rare to catch elsewhere.
You were adjusting the mic list when you heard your name.
“Y/N!”
It was Taehyung, waving dramatically from across the set like you were half a football field away.
“Come settle a bet,” he called.
You squinted. “Do I want to know what the bet is?”
Jimin appeared beside him, grinning like he’d already won. “You absolutely do.”
That’s when you noticed the screen behind them — the large monitor propped up for playback — currently displaying a paused Mario Kart track. Two controllers were sitting on the table, one already gripped tightly in Jungkook’s hands.
“Jungkook challenged me,” Jimin said, bouncing lightly on his heels. “Then he lost. And now he wants a rematch. But I refuse, so he wants to show he can beat anyone else. So we chose you.”
You blinked and pointed at yourself in disbelief. “Me?”
Jungkook, seated in one of the gamer-style chairs with his legs kicked up like he owned the place, smirked. “You talk a big game.”
You crossed your arms. “I’ve never talked any game.”
“That’s what makes you dangerous,” he replied, eyes gleaming.
Someone from the staff handed you the second controller, and it felt suspiciously like a setup — the way all the boys slowly started crowding behind the monitor, how Jimin was suddenly perched on the arm of the couch beside you, offering unsolicited tips.
“Watch the drifts in the third lap,” he murmured. “That’s where he gets cocky.”
You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Are you helping me or sabotaging me?”
He smiled, all sugar and mischief. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Jungkook chose the track. Something fast. Of course.
When the countdown began, your focus narrowed. Just you, the controller, and the digital chaos on screen. Around you, you were vaguely aware of voices — cheering, laughing, someone (probably Jin) commentating like it was the Olympics.
Jungkook was fast. Annoyingly fast.
But you were patient. Quietly calculating.
And in the last stretch of the final lap, you drifted perfectly around a corner, dodged a red shell, and zipped across the finish line less than half a second ahead.
The room exploded.
Hobi’s laugh was unmistakable as Jin threw his hands in the air. Taehyung screamed something unintelligible. Jimin laughed so hard he nearly fell from where he was sitting on.
Jungkook stared at the screen, jaw slack. Then he turned to look at you.
“That was luck.”
You leaned back, tossing the controller gently onto the couch. “Skill. Coated in humble confidence.”
“Rematch.”
“You’ll need time to recover.” You patted him on the shoulder.
He huffed, half a laugh escaping before he could stop it. And then he smiled — a real one this time, boyish and bright.
Jimin passed behind you as the camera crew started setting up for the next segment. He didn’t say anything at first — just brushed his knuckles lightly across your shoulder in passing, a touch no one else would notice.
When he came back around, slipping into place beside you as the others were getting miked, he handed you a bottle of water without meeting your eyes.
“You okay?” he asked under his breath.
You nodded. “I think I just made a mortal enemy.”
He smiled. “Nah. That’s just Jungkook’s love language.”
Your stomach flipped — not because of the words, but the quiet way he said them. Like he knew exactly how light to make it. Exactly when not to push.
You looked at him then, and for a second, neither of you said anything.
Then the director called for first positions, and the moment scattered like loose change.
Still, when Jungkook passed you on the way to his mark, he bumped your shoulder lightly, a grin tucked half into the corner of his mouth.
“Round two’s coming,” he said.
You didn’t answer.
But you smiled anyway.
-----
The hallway beyond the studio felt quieter than it should. Dimmer, too, the bright set lights replaced by the low ambient hum of backstage fluorescents. You rubbed your fingertips along your temple, trying to will away the strange buzz still dancing in your chest after the shoot.
Your badge swung slightly with each step as you wandered past stacked lighting gear and garment racks. A few of the stylists were packing up, their conversations soft and distant. Most of the boys had already vanished into dressing rooms or out the back exit.
You stepped into the green room without knocking — just enough to drop off the folder you’d been handed. Inside, it was quiet. A jacket draped over the couch, an open water bottle on the table. Jungkook was seated on the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone, his expression unreadable until he glanced up and noticed you.
"Hey," he said, straightening slightly.
You held out the folder. "Call sheet for the weekend. You guys have a rehearsal slotted Sunday."
He set his phone down and took the folder from you, glancing at the cover. "Thanks."
"No problem."
You turned to leave, but his voice followed. "You know... you kind of crushed me today."
You blinked. "At Mario Kart?"
He let out a low chuckle. "I’m gonna pretend it wasn’t personal."
"Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’m just that good."
Jungkook tilted his head like he was considering that. "Dangerously humble. It’s a deadly combo."
You smirked, letting the moment stretch just long enough to make your heart feel a little too aware of itself.
“How’s your recovery from trying to beat Sana in drinking?” He asked casually.
Your eyebrows shot up. "How do you—"
His grin widened. "Let’s just say... death by soju doesn’t go unnoticed."
You narrowed your eyes, trying not to smile. "I’m going to start interrogating people."
"You won’t need to. I’m very susceptible to guilt. And bribery."
You laughed despite yourself, glancing down at the call sheet again. Something about this was easier than it should’ve been.
Then footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Taehyung appeared, slowing as soon as he saw the two of you. He stopped a few paces away, taking in the scene without saying a word.
You braced for something.
He didn’t disappoint.
"You know," he said, pointing between the two of you, "if you’re gonna stand that close and smile that much, at least try to look a little less obvious."
Jungkook groaned, head tipping back with a dramatic sigh. "Hyung—"
Taehyung raised both hands, backing away slowly. "Hey, hey. Don’t mind me. I’m just an innocent bystander. An observant one. But innocent nonetheless."
Then, just before turning the corner, he added over his shoulder, "Cute, though. Seriously."
You stared after him.
Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, then looked at you with something caught between amusement and apology.
"He’s going to milk that for weeks."
You sighed. "Guess we’re doomed."
"Could be worse," Jungkook said.
And the way he looked at you — not teasing, not intense, just quietly sure — made it very hard to argue.
----
The studio floor had emptied out more than you realized. One minute you were dodging prop boxes and laughing with Yoshi while the post-filming chaos still lingered, and the next — you were standing by the stairwell with a half-empty water bottle in hand, waiting for the elevator that seemed determined not to arrive.
"You always disappear right before the fun part," Jimin’s voice cut through the quiet like a familiar song.
You turned, half startled, half expecting him. He was already walking toward you, hoodie draped loosely over his shoulders, hair still damp from the earlier shoot, and something soft behind his eyes. Like he’d been waiting for a moment alone just like this.
You gave a weak smile. "Didn’t know there was a fun part."
He stopped in front of you, leaning a shoulder lightly against the wall. "There’s always a fun part."
The hallway buzzed gently with silence. A light flickered above you, casting slow-moving shadows. You tightened your grip on the bottle.
"Tired?" he asked, glancing down at your hands.
You shrugged. "A little. I think the last twenty-four hours finally caught up to me."
He nodded slowly, like he understood more than you were saying.
"Thanks for yesterday," you said after a moment.
"You already said that."
You looked up. "Well, I’m saying it again."
He smiled at that, then tilted his head slightly. "Want a ride home? I’ve got time."
You hesitated. For a breath. Maybe two. Then nodded. Why not?
----
The city passed in fragments outside the window, a patchwork of late-night haze and quiet. Yellow-tinted streetlights blinked over sidewalks. Neon signs flickered half-heartedly from the windows of half-closed stores. Inside the car, it was warm — too warm — and you didn’t bother removing your coat. You felt the press of it, like a shield. A weight you weren’t quite ready to shrug off.
Jimin didn’t put on music. You didn’t ask. The air between you hummed with an unspoken rhythm, one you couldn’t place.
"You’re quiet," he said, glancing at you as the car slowed at a red light. "I thought I’d at least get a dramatic monologue about the evils of filming variety shows in the cold."
You gave a soft huff, the corner of your mouth twitching. "You’re lucky I’m too tired to perform."
"I’m devastated," he said, placing a hand dramatically over his chest.
Your gaze drifted back out the window. You traced the fog from your breath with a fingertip on the glass. "It’s just been... an intense week."
"I know the feeling," he murmured. His tone didn’t shift. He didn’t offer advice. He just agreed, like it was the only thing worth saying.
"It’s not even anything specific. Just… the internship. The schedule. The pace of it all. Its been almost three months but feels like im here for much longer but at the same time much less. It’s weird." You gave a little shrug, as if brushing the weight off your shoulders could make it lighter. "Everything’s just a bit much sometimes."
He stayed silent. The hum of the car filled in what you didn’t say.
Then, his voice returned, lighter this time. "If it makes you feel better, I’m very impressed by how professional you looked while holding a bag of cucumbers today."
That pulled a laugh from your chest. You shot him a side glance. "Stop."
"Dead serious. Iconic. Might be the most glamorous thing I’ve seen all week."
The light turned green, and he eased the car forward. You leaned into your seat and sighed. Something about him — the way he let the serious and silly fold over each other — always managed to unravel you in pieces. Quiet ones.
"You’re good at this," you said softly.
"At what?"
"Disarming people."
He glanced at you, his smile widening. "You make it sound like I’m a spy."
"Maybe you are. The charming kind. Gets people talking when they don’t mean to."
"Ah," he said, mock-serious. "So I’m dangerously persuasive. Noted."
You lifted an eyebrow. "I’m saying you’re sneaky. Subtle. The kind of person who probably gets away with way too much."
He gasped in mock offense. "I’m wounded."
"You’ll survive."
He turned onto your street, the familiar row of buildings falling into place outside the window. But he didn’t stop in front of yours. Instead, he pulled up further, into a quieter spot shaded by trees and dim streetlight.
The engine ticked as he cut it. Neither of you moved.
You sat in the silence, eyes on your hands folded in your lap, while Jimin’s rested casually on the wheel like he wasn’t in a rush to end whatever this was.
"We’re okay, right?" he asked after a moment. Quiet. Careful.
You nodded slowly. "I think so."
He didn’t speak right away. You could feel his gaze, warm and open.
"You’ve seemed different lately. Not bad. Just… like your head’s somewhere else."
You traced another foggy line on the window. "Maybe it is. Everything just feels different, like something shifted and I haven’t caught up to it yet."
He didn’t press. Just waited.
"It’s not really about the job," you added quickly. "It’s nothing. And also… not nothing. I guess I’m still figuring it out."
His voice was low when he answered. "Want to know what I’m figuring out?"
You turned to him, surprised by the question. "What?"
"How long I can sit here before I do something really dumb."
Your breath caught.
He gave a small, knowing smile. "And it gets harder everytime you look at me like that. "
You didn’t look away. Your fingers tightened just a little in your lap. "Then maybe stop thinking about it."
He waited. A pause that felt like a held breath, long enough to ask without asking.
And then, slowly — like testing the weight of it — he leaned in.
The kiss was light. Barely a whisper between you. A question posed in silence. A warmth you hadn’t realized you were craving.
It wasn’t a hot or passionate kiss, but rather something soft, uncertain — like both of you were trying to remember how to breathe through it. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t demand anything, didn’t burn its way through your chest, but settled there gently, like the warmth of a hand over your heart. It asked nothing but permission. It didn’t shout. It didn’t shake. It just… existed, tender and fleeting. Like a pause between thoughts. Like a secret neither of you had the words to speak yet.
But it didn’t last for long.
Because just as the moment settled — just as the softness of it bloomed in your chest — you pulled away.
The car felt too close now. Too still. Your hand reached for the door.
"I should—"
He nodded.
You stepped out into the cold. The night air stung your cheeks in a way that reminded you where you were. Grounded you.
The door shut behind you. Your boots clicked against the pavement as you walked towards the door of your apartment building.
And then—
Your name.
Spoken low. Firm.
You turned as he caught up to you.
No hesitation this time.
His hand found the back of your head softly but firmer. His eyes found your mouth.
And he kissed you again.
Fuller. Warmer. Still careful, but more certain — like he’d decided he didn’t want to let you walk away wondering. This kiss wasn’t rushed, but there was urgency beneath the tenderness. A silent insistence that said: I meant that. It carried something heavier than the first — not pressure, but presence. His thumb brushed along your jaw as the kiss deepened just slightly, grounding you where you stood.
Your breath caught somewhere between surprise and surrender.
For a moment, you let yourself sink into it. The world narrowed. The streetlamp above you flickered. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn echoed and faded. But here — with his forehead resting lightly against yours — everything else disappeared.
You could feel your heart knocking against your ribs, too fast, too loud. Like it hadn’t caught up to what your body was already answering.
"I get to do dumb things sometimes too," he murmured resting his forehead against yours. You were with your eyes closed still trying to process what just happened.
You didn’t answer.
But you didn’t let go either.
You didn’t know how long you stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, breath caught somewhere between your lungs and your throat, Jimin’s warmth still lingering on your lips.
The street was quiet. Only the distant hum of a passing car reminded you the world hadn’t completely stopped. But in your body? In your chest? Everything felt like it had come to a sudden, terrifying standstill.
He kissed you.
He kissed you.
Again.
And then he—
He just turned around and left.
No last word. No clever tease. Not even a backward glance.
He walked back to his car like that kiss hadn’t just rearranged your entire central nervous system.
You were still standing there like a glitch in a simulation when the car engine started. It purred low, then faded as the wheels rolled down the block.
Only when the red taillights disappeared from view did you finally move.
You turned slowly, let yourself walk the last few steps to your building, and fumbled with the code on the door twice before getting it right. Your fingers didn’t work properly. Your brain certainly didn’t.
Inside, the air felt colder than you expected. Or maybe that was just your skin trying to forget the way his hand held the back of your head.
You dropped your bag at the entrance. Your coat somewhere near the couch. Your shoes half-on, half-off by the mat.
And then you just stood there.
Completely and utterly flabbergasted.
What the hell had just happened?
You touched your lips. Once. Lightly. Like you could still trace the shape of him there.
This was a joke. It had to be.
No.
This was your life.
You spun in place, hair swishing with the motion, like pacing would make your thoughts more manageable.
It didn’t.
He kissed you. Again. And it wasn’t some lingering almost-moment. Not some near miss like before. No. It was real. It happened.
And you let it happen.
You kissed him back. Oh God, what have you done? You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Never said anything. To anyone. Ever. In fact, you believe you should’ve just been able to speak ever again.
You groaned and collapsed face-first onto the couch, muffling a scream into the nearest cushion.
What were you supposed to do now? Text him? Pretend it never happened? Throw your phone into the sea? Take a rocket and launch yourself into space and disapear forever?
You rolled over dramatically, now staring at the ceiling, limbs sprawled in defeat.
Should you call Evi?
No.
Yes.
No. Definitely not. She would ascend into a whole different plane of existence if she found out. You could already hear her voice in your head, pitch climbing with every syllable:
“YOU DID WHAT? With PARK JIMIN?! Girl, are you INSANE?”
You covered your face with both hands.
God. This was bad. This was… good? No. Complicated. This was very complicated.
And you were very possibly losing your mind.
You hadn’t even taken your makeup off. Your phone buzzed against your thigh, and you flinched like it had burned you.
But it wasn’t him.
Of course it wasn’t.
You lay there for another minute before sitting up and grabbing your phone anyway. You opened your notes app and typed exactly two words:
He kissed me.
Then you stared at them.
Then you deleted them.
Then you opened a new note:
What the fuck is happening.
You closed the app.
Typed Evi’s name in your contacts.
And stared.
You hadn’t done anything wrong.
Right?
But why did it feel like your entire body was filled with static electricity?
You groaned again and launched yourself backward onto the couch. You needed to sleep. Or scream. Or invent a time machine.
Anything but this.
Your phone buzzed again.
This time, not a message. A FaceTime.
My one and only true love is FaceTiming…
You screamed.
Not a little gasp, not a startled “oh”—a full-on, sharp yelp that shot out of you like a reflex. The sound echoed off your apartment walls, and you instantly slapped a hand over your mouth.
Your thumb still hit "accept."
Evi’s face exploded onto the screen, perfectly framed and flawless. Hair smooth and curled at the ends, lips lined with something expensive and terrifyingly red. Her brows looked like they were carved by gods.
“Why are you screaming like someone broke into your house?” she asked, calmly sipping from a matcha glass.
You blinked at her. “I thought you were a murderer. Or my boss.”
“Charming. This is the welcome I get?”
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“You scare easily for someone who’s been hiding a man in her apartment.”
Your soul left your body.
You coughed. “What—what are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb.” She leaned in dramatically. “I know that look. You’re flushed. Your hair’s doing that thing it does when you’re stressed but trying not to look stressed. Your eyes are twitchy. And unless it’s -3 degrees outside, that red on your cheeks isn’t from the cold.”
You adjusted your phone. “It is cold.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And yet you don’t look frozen. You look freshly kissed.”
You made a noise that wasn’t a laugh or a protest—just a long, whimpering exhale.
“Y/N,” she said slowly. “Was someone at your place again since yesterday?”
You said nothing.
“Someone tucked your blanket,” she continued. “Someone made you ramen. Someone bought you Pocari Sweat. You don’t even like Pocari Sweat. You drink it once a year and call it a ritual. And today you are jumpy and blushing. Spill, bitch. ”
You buried your face in your hand. “You are so dramatic.”
“I am your best friend. I’m allowed to be. Was it someone from work?”
“Evi…”
“Was it one of the boys?” Her eyes widened, manic energy building. “Wait. DON’T tell me. Blink once for yes, twice for no. Scratch your nose if it’s complicated.”
You burst out laughing, but it was too late—your fingers had brushed your cheek.
“I KNEW IT!”
“That was not a signal.”
“Too late. Evidence locked in.”
“Jesus Christ.”
She grinned at you. “Tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.”
You stared at her through the screen. Your cheeks still felt warm. Your mouth—God, your mouth—still tingled faintly. Like the memory of his lips hadn’t quite left yet.
She tilted her head. “Was it good?”
You sighed. “You’re impossible.”
“Not a no.”
“Stop it.”
“I’m just saying—if someone kissed me and they were as hot as they sound, I would spiral, like, immediately.”
“Oh, I already spiraled.”
She beamed. “That’s my girl.”
There was a beat of silence, then her voice softened.
“You okay, though?” She dropped the subject just like that. She knew better then to press you. And she also knew when you were not jokinly freaking out.
You looked away. Then back. “I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
She didn’t push. She didn’t fill the silence with noise like she normally would. Just… nodded. Like that was enough.
“Thank you,” you said quietly.
“Of course,” she replied. Then, after a pause: “Can I complain about my neighbor now?”
You blinked. “Absolutely.”
She launched into it instantly. “So this morning? He started blasting Cupid at seven a.m. again. Not even the good version—the sped-up TikTok remix. While dancing. In a tutu. On his balcony.”
You snorted. “Still the same three songs?”
“On a loop. My brain is bleeding. My sanity is held together by two hairpins and a dream.”
You grinned.
She leaned closer to the screen. “I’m serious. If I disappear one day, avenge me. I’ll be the one under the floorboards of his playlist.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but you love me.”
You nodded. “I do.”
“And when you’re ready,” she said, “I want the whole story. Over wine. With snacks. And a cheap galaxy projector.”
You smiled, eyes soft. “Deal.”
“Miss you.”
“Miss you too.”
She gave you a long look, like she was reading every emotion off your face, then winked and hung up—leaving you in the quiet again.
