joonam

[joonam]

i just finished reading the museum stranger part 2, i LOVED it & can't wait to read more! thank you for writing it 🙇🏻‍♀️

thank you so much~

that’s so kind of youuuu 🤍🤍🤍

[joonam]

the museum stranger - chapter 2 | knj

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Reader (f)

Genre: romance, bookstore!au, museum!au, soft, angst, strangers to lovers.

Summary: A quiet afternoon at a modern art museum in Seoul becomes the beginning of something unexpected. Newly discharged from military service, Namjoon meets you with a book in hand, and something just clicks. But just as the two of you gets closer, timing threatens to strip it away. What begins as a simple presence of a stranger in a museum might just grow into something that lasts.

Word Count: 4039

Warnings: grief, harassment & violence, soft angst, crying, references to death, mentions of anxiety

a/n: I hope u guys enjoy this chapter, it is currently my favourite. another update would be on thursday hopefully :)) taglist: @kritika06

check out my: masterlist << prev | chapter 1

It was a rainy Saturday and the rain makes everything move slower.

You found him at the steps right before the entrance of the museum, standing under a yellow umbrella that looks hilariously out of place against his black t-shirt, black outer, and a white mask on. He noticed you before you could say anything, lifted the umbrella while greeting you, "Hi."

You stepped under his umbrella while closing yours, your shoulder brushing against his arm, "Hi." "You won’t mind art in the rain?" he asked through his mask. You nodded, "I like it specially then."

Namjoon’s heart was beating faster when he noticed he would have to walk to the entrance while sharing an umbrella with you. After a moment of hesitation, he nervously slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

“Just so you don’t get rained on,” he said, almost too quickly.

You could feel your whole face getting red, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. No, it’s not. This is definitely top 3 of one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for you. And you wanted to scream so bad but being nonchalant at a time like this feels more proper.

Both of you reached the entrance and dry the soles of your shoes against the mat they provided.

You first stopped at a painting of a single pear on a ceramic plate. But Joon stared at it longer than anything else.

"Why this one?" you asked curiously. He tilted his head, “It feels honest. Just a pear. No metaphors behind the painting. It’s just what it is."

You studied the painting to understand him more, “I think it’s lonely," you said, "but not sad. It’s just existing as it is like you said." He looked at you then, "That makes sense."

You moved to the next room and stopped in front of a different installation. "What do you see?" he asked. You hesitated, "A mistake that is frozen in time.” He nodded slowly. "I can see that, but it’s a beautiful mistake."

You sat on a bench in front of a landscape piece. He sits beside you, not too close, but not too far. "I used to come here when I couldn't write," he said quietly. "Writer's block?" He shook his head, “More like life block? Like nothing I say or do was worth saying or doing." "Do you still feel that way?" you asked. He looked at the field on the canvas, "Less so lately."

Later, in the new wing, you both stand in front of a wall of tiny framed objects. A spoon, a strip of hair, a glass eye. "That one," you said, pointing to the spoon. "Reminds me of my dad. He keeps a spoon in the compartment of his car, just in case he heeds to eat something."

Namjoon laughed, "That’s smart." "He calls it 'emergency friend’ like, if you have a spoon, you'll be okay." He laughed more but it was gentle, "He sounds like someone who sees the world in a unique way." You nodded, “He does.”

After you finished touring the museum, you stood together under the exit sign. "Thank you for coming," he said. "Thank you for inviting me," you said smiling at him.

He looked at you for a second too long before asking, "Can I see you again?” You smiled, “We just saw each other." He raised his eyebrow, "That wasn’t a no.” "No," you said, smiling at him, "It wasn’t."

You said your goodbyes and turned to go while he waited until you were far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to hear the nervous breath he exhaled.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Later that night, Namjoon was pacing back and forth in his apartment. Wanting to text you but didn’t want to come off as too strong. But he decided to anyway.

Joon: Found another museum that we can explore together.

He sent the link, followed by a location pin, and you stared at your phone for a moment before typing back.

You: When? Joon: Tomorrow? Only If you're free. You: I’ll meet you there.

He reads your reply once. Then again. Then a third and fourth time time, as if your words might vanish. And he smiled.

He sets his phone down and leans back on the couch. He tries not to replay your message in his mind over and over again. But he fails anyway. Because it’s not just the museum. It’s not just tomorrow. It’s you. It's you saying yes to him.

And for a man like him who has spent years hiding his heart. That yes feels like the beginning of something he’s been waiting for. Something slow and soft. Something that could ruin him beautifully.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The following Sunday, you followed the location pin he sent you. The museum was tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood, the kind of place people walk past a dozen times and never think to enter.

You arrived ten minutes earlier, unsure if that makes you look eager or just polite. Probably both. The woman at the front desk barely looks up as you paid the entry fee for two.

You stepped inside, the air instantly feels much cooler. A bell rang behind you. You didn’t turn, but you knew it was him with the same damn mask on that you know enough not to press it. He explained it to you on your first time ever meeting him, it never really bothers you, you understand people have their own reasons, including Joon.

"You beat me," he said. You turned around and smiled. "I thought you would appreciate punctuality." He replied, "I do."

The first room was entirely black and white portraits of men, women, and children staring just past the camera. "They look like they know something we don’t," you murmured. He stepped beside you, "Maybe they do."

You moved slowly from photo to photo. The space between you narrowing with each step. In one frame, a woman was standing on top of a dock with a completely wet hair. Her eyes locked with the camera like she wanted to fight it.

"She reminds me of you," he said. You looked at the photo, then at him. "Because she’s alone?" He shook his head, "Because she looks like she chose to be alone." You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you didn’t. "You’re not what I expected," he said suddenly. You turned to him, “What do you mean?” “You feel safe.” You blinked at him, "I’m not sure how to take that." "As a compliment. Please." You laughed under your breath, "Okay."

The museum was small enough for the both of you to go around twice, you glanced at the time on your phone. "It’s only 1 PM. Want to go to another museum? Something completely different."

Namjoon looks at at you amused, "Like what?" You shrugged, "The Seoul Children’s Museum? It could be fun. Or at least unexpected." "An exchange of scenery. I like that." You smiled, "So, yes?" "Yes." ♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

When you arrived at the Children’s Museum, the shift in energy was immediately felt. In this place, there was chaos and colour. Children screaming and running around. Something somewhere was beeping. A machine of bubbles were placed near the entrance.

Joon looks around, "Okay. Unexpected is right." You laughed, "We’re here now. Might as well embrace it."

He followed you through the front hall, where planets hung from the ceiling and a robotic dinosaur head peeked out from a side gallery. In the art zone, children were sitting wearing aprons, smearing paint with their hands and elbows.

He pointed to one chaotic canvas. "That one’s got soul." "Raw talent," you agreed. You wandered into the light and shadow room, where kids danced in front of projectors and made animals with their hands. You made a butterfly. He made a blob. "I tried to make a dog," he said. You squinted. "Looks like a potato." He bumped your shoulder. "You’re not supposed to critique children." "You’re not a child." "How do you know?" “Children don’t go to art museums and read for fun,” you said making him chuckle.

You entered the storybook tunnel next. A corridor lined with curved bookshelves and lanterns. A recording of lullabies played softly in the background. You both sat on one of the cushioned benches. You whispered, "What would a children’s museum tell you?" He thought for a long moment, "That you’re allowed to play even when the world is too loud." Outside, the sun was almost setting, and neither of you checked your phones. He turned to you, "This was actually really fun." "It was." He hesitated for a second before asking, "Want to pick the next one?" "Museum?" You asked and he nodded before saying, "Anything. Anywhere. As long as it’s with you."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

On Monday, Namjoon woke up to the sunlight shining through the curtains and his phone buzzing softly against the bedside table.

You: Morning. Coffee first, reading second. That’s the law at the shop.

He grinned, half asleep:

Joon: Duly noted. Don’t break bookstore laws.

He studied the picture you sent noticing how the bookstore seems familiar.

Joon: Is this the bookstore with the cat? You: there are a lot of bookstores with a cat. But yes, his name is Radio. Joon: I think I’ve been there.

You sent him the location of the bookstore you work at so he could double check if it is indeed the store he’s been to before.

Joon: Yep. I’ve been there. You: Then we’ve met before. Joon: I would have remembered meeting you. You: So smooth. Well maybe I was out. Joon: Yeah.

He didn’t want the conversation to end and he also wanted to see you. So he texted again:

Joon: Do you think I can come to the bookstore? You: I mean it’s open for public, so, of course, Joonie.

He finally stood up from his bed. He didn’t know what this was yet, this thing building between you, but it feels like he already knows you for a long time. Like it was a past life kind of thing. ♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Namjoon wasn’t sure what made him nervous. Maybe it was the weight of seeing you again. He left the house early; hoodie, mask, cap, still cautious, still him. He walked past rows of shops he didn’t recognise until he found the bookstore.

And in the front window was Radio, the cat.

The bell above the door jingled as he steps inside. Music plays in a low volume from a speaker tucked into a shelf, something acoustic and old.

You were behind the counter, hands busy with organising bookmarks in a tin tray. You looked up and your face broke into the softest kind of smile. Which made Namjoon blush.

"You came," you said. Namjoon smiled behind his mask, "I did." You stepped out from behind the counter. "Come on. Poetry section’s this way." He follows you past displays of travel books and translated novels. You stopped between two narrow shelves fingers brushing over the spines, "This is where I go when I need to feel like I exist again," you said.

Namjoon nods, "There’s just something holy about good poetry." "And something reckless about bad poetry," you added, "But I love it all."

Namjoon blinks slowly, before eventually asking, "Can I buy you a coffee?"

You looked surprised, "Now?" He glances towards the front, "Only if Radio agrees to keep an eye on things." You laughed, "Radio’s judgmental, but fair."

You turn the sign at the door to 'Back in 15' and the two of you walk next door to a quiet café.

The cafe was quiet with lofi music playing in the background, a barista half listening to a podcast on their phone, and the scent of ground beans in the air.

You picked the corner table, your favourite spot, near a window, and slightly out of view. A spot that says, "stay as long as you like."

Namjoon ordered for you both; you a black sesame latte and him a regular americano. When the barista called the names, he picked up both and set them on the table. Yours in front of you. His slightly to the side.

You sip yours slowly. Namjoon just wraps his hands around his cup like it was there to warm him but not to be consumed.

You raised a brow. "You know you're allowed to drink it, right?" He looked at you, smiling beneath his mask, "I said I'd buy you a coffee. Never said anything about drinking mine."

You stared at him. "That sounds like something a very specific type of person would say."

"A poet?" he guessed.

"A criminal."

He blinked, then laughed, "Wow. Harsh."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "You're hiding something, aren't you? You said you don’t like pulling your mask down in public. So what is it? Wanted person list? Witness protection? Secret agent? Underground cult?"

He chuckled again, leaning back slightly, "What if I said yes to all four?"

"Then I’d say this is the best coffee I’ve had in months."

He taps a finger on his cup. "I just like the space. I spend so much of my life being seen, I think I’ve learned to appreciate not being recognised." You nodded slowly, "Makes sense."

"You’re not mad?" he asked. "I think people who are used to being seen often forget how exhausting it is. Plus, you don’t carry yourself like someone trying to disappear. Just someone trying to breathe." Namjoon stared at you for a long moment.

"You’re really good at that." "At what?" "Saying things I’ve never known how to say out loud."

You looked down at your latte, letting the foam settle. "That’s funny," you said, "Because being around you makes me feel like maybe I’m not too much like there’s enough room for both of us." He didn’t answer that, just nodded slowly.

Namjoon leans forward, "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "Why did you come back to the museum last week?" You look out the window, before answering; "I think part of me was hoping you would be there."

He exhaled, "I almost didn’t. But only because I thought you wouldn't be there." "But you did." He nodded. "And now we’re here. You, not drinking your coffee. Me, wondering why I told a stranger about my workplace."

"We’re not strangers," he said softly. You looked at him, "No," you agreed, "We’re not."

He didn’t pull his mask down that day. But it didn’t matter. He was already showing you everything you needed to see and hear.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The next few days unfolded gently, not in grand declarations or sweeping gestures but in small, unspoken ways. A text here. A photo of a book spine. A sentence he underlined and thought you’d like.

Joon: “Sometimes the things we can’t say build up like smoke.” from a novel I found in the philosophy section today. You: Sounds like something I would underline too. What else are you reading lately?

Sometimes the conversation drifted into silence, but it never feels like an ending. Just a pause, just enough space for you to breath. For real life.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

On Friday, you returned to the bookstore, this time feeling like you were waiting for something even if you told yourself you weren’t.

Radio was particularly judgmental that morning. You blamed it on the rain. By noon, the bell jingled, you looked up, and there he was. Hoodie, mask, hands in pockets. Still Joon.

"Hey," you said, voice softer than expected. "Morning," he replied.

You stepped aside from the counter and was walking towards the imported book shelves to clean up. He didn’t follow you there. Instead, he stepped behind the counter, eyes scanning the post-it notes stuck to the wall.

"Do you write all of these?" You nodded, "Little reminders. Things I need to hear when it’s too quiet in here." He picked one: You are not behind. Time moves differently for the brave. He folded it and tucked it into his pocket. He said nothing but you let him keep it.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You told your friends about him the next Sunday night. It was during your usual every 3rd Sunday of the month ritual, sitting cross legged on the floor of Ara’s apartment with bowls and cans of soft drinks scattered across the coffee table.

“So,” Jiwoo said, peering at you over her bowl. “You’ve been weirdly floaty all week. What gives?” You tried to play it off, but your smile betrayed you. Eunji gasped. “She’s smiling like she has a secret.”

“I do,” you said as you stirred your noodles, “I met someone.” Spoons clattered dramatically. Ara blinked. “Wait, what?”

“In a museum,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“A museum?” Jiwoo repeated. “That’s so on-brand, it suits you so much.” “I know. He saw Demian in my hand, then we just started talking.”

“Is he hot?” Eunji asked. You opened your mouth, then closed it. “I don’t know?”

“Girl.”

“He wears a mask,” you explained, “Like all the time. So I can’t really see his face. but his body is. yes. he’s hot. He is tall and has broad shoulders. and has like all the things I wrote on my "Qualities of men I would date" list."

The girls paused. Ara raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been hanging out with a man whose face you’ve never seen?”

“He has a nice voice,” you said defensively, “And kind eyes.” “Oh my god,” Jiwoo groaned. “He’s a criminal.” “He’s not a criminal.” “Okay but if he is, you need to blink twice and we'll come and rescue you.” You were laughing now, “He’s just private. He said being seen all the time gets exhausting.”

“Still sounds suspicious,” Eunji added, “What if he’s like an actual celebrity or something?” You shook your head. “I don’t care who he is. I like who he is with me and I like who I am with him.”

The girls went quiet at that. Ara smiled, softer this time. “Well. If he hurts you, we riot.”

Later that night, you texted him about what just happened.

You: So I told my friends about you. Joon: Should I be concerned? You: They think you’re a criminal. Joon: I mean, that’s fair. I am pretty suspicious. You: They made me promise to blink twice if you turn out to be in hiding. Joon: I am hiding. Just not from the law. You: What are you hiding from, then?

There was a longer pause.

Joon: From people who see me without actually seeing me.

You stared at the screen.

You: I think you let me see you. A little. Joon: *A lot. And you see me but it does not feel like an invasion.

You didn’t know what to say to that. So instead, you typed:

You: Radio says you’re allowed back. He only tolerates people with kind eyes and good posture. Joon: Then I’m honored. I’ll bring him sardines next time.

You smiled into your pillow and you didn’t feel like you were falling. Not yet. But you did feel like something was slowly unfolding.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Monday came and it has been raining all day. The rain finally stopped not long after you closed the bookstore. And as you look outside, Joon was there. Leaning against the brick wall across the street, hands in the pockets of his coat, head tilted slightly like he has been waiting but didn’t mind the wait, and of course with a mask on. He didn’t wave. He just stood a little straighter when he saw you lock the door.

You didn’t say anything at first. “Hey,” he said, with a low voice like he hasn't been talking the whole day. “Hi,” you replied.

A second passed. “It’s too late for coffee or the museum,” you said. “Too early to go home,” he replied.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, smiling, “So, you just happened to be in the neighborhood at 9:15 p.m, huh?” He paused then chuckled. “I like bookstores.” “Oh, totally,” you teased. “Especially ones that are closed. You know, very accessible. Not creepy at all.”

“I’m not stalking you,” he said, but the way his ears turned red above his mask made it less convincing. “Sure. Sure. That’s exactly what a stalker would say.” He lets out a laugh, “I’m seriously rethinking meeting you.” You nudged him with your elbow as you started walking, “Too late. You’re already Radio approved.”

So you walked. It was just the sound of two pairs of shoes on damp pavement and the soft sound of traffic in the distance. Hongdae was quieter than usual but it might be because it's past peak hours. You walk passed a mural that was newly painted.

"This part of the city always feels like a memory," you said. Joon glanced at you. “A good one?” You nodded, “One that still changes every time I look at it.” He smiled behind the mask, "I think I’ve lived in so many cities, I stop letting them feel like mine." "But Seoul is yours, isn’t it?" He paused, “Yes, It’s where I always return to.”

You crossed an empty intersection and his hand brushed yours just barely. He didn’t reach again, but you noticed.

“Tell me something small,” you said suddenly. “Like what your ideal day looks like.”

He thought for a second. “Okay,” he said, “Waking up without an alarm. Reading in bed for too long. A good bowl of something warm for lunch. Wandering around with no agenda. No headlines. Ending the day somewhere quiet like this.” You smiled, “That’s not small. That’s everything.”

He glanced over. “What about you?” “My ideal day? I think making something. Anything. Writing. Knitting. Collaging. Screaming into a sketchbook. Then walking until I forget what I made and maybe ending it with someone who gets that.”

“Tell me a fun fact about you” he asked. “I used to cry when my parents cut the crusts off my sandwich.” He laughed, “Why?” “They said it was to make it easier for me to eat. But it felt like they were taking something away without asking.”

He blinked. “That might be the most poetic thing anyone’s ever said about sandwich crusts.”

You both laughed. You reached a small playground, empty at this hour, the swings still damp from the earlier rain. You walked towards the jungle gym without thinking. He followed you, sitting next to you on a bench facing the slide. Finally, you asked him, “What are you afraid of?” Joon was quiet for a long time, “Being misunderstood,” he said, “And maybe missing the right thing because I hesitated.” You swallowed, “Yeah. That one scares me too.”

Ten minutes later, you were both on rental bikes, yours slightly squeaky, his too tall for you but not him. The path was a little slippery from the rain.

“I swear if this ends with me falling,” “I’ll catch you,” he said, dramatically. “Oh great. That really helps,” you said sarcastically.

“You wound me,” he said playfully while placing a hand on his chest. “Physically? Give it ten minutes.” Which was generous. Because seven minutes in and you did fall. Your front wheel slipped over a shallow puddle and before you could finish your curse word, you hit the ground with a loud thud. Joon was off his bike in seconds, “Are you. oh my god. are you dying? Should I call someone?” You sat up slowly, water dripping from your elbow, and burst out laughing.

“That was the most graceful fall of my life. Olympic worthy.” He crouched beside you, trying and failing not to laugh, “You fell like a heroine in some drama. Slow motion and everything.”

“My dignity is the only thing broken, possibly my pride. And maybe my left butt cheek.”

“Good that you didn't die because Radio would never forgive me if you didn’t make it.”

He offered his hand to help you stand, “Shall I help you up, bookstore heroine?” You took it.

And when he pulled you to your feet, his hand lingered just a second longer than needed.

But neither of you said anything about it.

[joonam]

ill be posting the 2nd chapter of the museum stranger today & one song too many on thursday 🤍

[joonam]

the museum stranger - chapter 1 | knj

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Reader (f)

Genre: romance, bookstore!au, museum!au, soft, angst, strangers to lovers.

Summary: A quiet afternoon at a modern art museum in Seoul becomes the beginning of something unexpected. Newly discharged from military service, Namjoon meets you with a book in hand, and something just clicks. But just as the two of you gets closer, timing threatens to strip it away. What begins as a simple presence of a stranger in a museum might just grow into something that lasts.

Word Count: 3018

Warnings: grief, harassment & violence, soft angst, crying, references to death, mentions of anxiety

a/n: as promised, this is a story I finished awhile back but since I wasn't active on tumblr/wattpad then, I just kept it to myself. I'm in process of editing so I might be able to upload another chapter soon. We'll see. I hope u guys will enjoy this one :))

check out my: masterlist

next | chapter 2 >>

There was something about the air that afternoon in Itaewon that makes it feel a little less busy than the rest of Seoul. It feels like the kind of day that makes you want to to notice even the smallest things around you.

Namjoon was standing on the steps of the newly opened Museu, a modern glass and concrete museum. His mask covered half his face, and his hat shaded him from the sun. It isn't about hiding, not really. It's more about having a space for anonymity and normalcy.

It has been two weeks since he was finally discharged from the army. Two weeks of readjusting into normal day to day life and finding new routines. Namjoon and his members were given a one and a half month break to find inspiration before the studio sessions. So far, Namjoon has spent his time to go to museums, study arts, and reading books to help him find the best words for the lyrics of the songs in their upcoming album.

Once he was inside, he notices how the museum was curated carefully in which every installation has room to breathe and every shadow seemed to be carefully placed. A good place to record a music video, he chuckled to himself.

He wanders slowly, eyes scanning brushstrokes and sculpture, trying to find meaning behind them. Moving from one installation to the other. And then he saw you.

You stood in front of a piece; a fractured mirrors put together against a background of different shades of blue paint. In your hand, casually gripped like it has always belong there, was a copy of Demian by Hermann Hesse.

It was instinctual, the way Namjoon notices books in people’s hands. But Demian? That wasn’t a coincidence, that was a language. Namjoon always thought people who read Demian were somehow different like someone who doesn’t just read to read, but to understand.

He looks at you for a second too long before stepping closer. Not directly beside you, not directly behind you, just near enough to catch your attention but not enough to disturb your space and thoughts. You didn’t look away from the installation in front of you, you were too immersed into it.

"I’ve read that book," Namjoon said quietly, voice muffled through the mask. You turned slightly towards him, brows raised in polite surprise, "Yeah?" He nodded once, eyes flicking to the book in your hand, "It’s not a casual museum companion."

You laughed at his statement. There was a pause that usually ends an interaction between strangers. But you stayed and turned toward him instead and he also didn’t walk away.

"I’ve been rereading the part where Sinclair sees the sparrow hawk again," you said, your fingers brushing the edge of the dog-eared page. "Something about waiting for freedom."

Namjoon felt something like a click of familiarity and recognition.

He nods slowly, "Yeah. I love the part when the sparrow appears much brighter to symbolises how he can now be free.” You smiled before turning back to the art installation, eyes following the art in front of you, "What do you think this piece means?" you asked after a moment.

Namjoon steps to stand right beside you but still leaving a space big enough for you to have a personal space, "It’s confusing, but in a way that feels like it’s okay not to see the full picture."

You glance at him, another small smile forming, "Do you always talk like this to girls in museums?" He chuckles, "Only the ones holding Demian and this is the first time to be completely honest with you.”

Minutes passed, but both of you didn’t seem to notice. Twenty, maybe even more. You both were drifting from one installation to the next, letting the art and conversation move you. No introductions or names exchanged, just ideas and an unspoken understanding.

You paused in front of a series of black and white photographs. "I always wonder what they were thinking about when they took the pictures," you said, "If a photo can catch a moment, do you think it can catch a thought too?" "That’s why we take photos isn’t it?" Namjoon replied, "To always remember how we were feeling or thinking at that time." You laughed, "That's very philosopher of you."

He shrugs, "I'm a little obsessed with thinking and especially about something I don’t know or understand. I think the process from not knowing to knowing is the beauty."

"Even when it's about yourself?" "Especially then," he said, "We're never finished people."

"Do you think it's harder to know who you are or to explain it to someone else?" you asked. Namjoon didn’t say anything for a good minute, “Definitely, explaining. We use language like it’s precise and accurate, but it never truly and fully translates what we feel.” "That’s why art matters, isn’t it?" He nods at you, "It says the things language fails to."

You turn to him. "So, what does this museum say to you?" He looks around slowly, looking at the art instillations surrounding the both of you, "It tells me to slow down and to not be certain, because there’s nothing certain in life.”

“That sounds like something you needed to hear." He looked at you for a brief moment, "Yeah. It actually really is." “Well, whatever you’re going through, just remember to slow down,” you smiled at him.

Eventually, you reach the edge of the museum’s internal courtyard, you paused at the last piece in this part of the museum. "It’s like a memory," he said trying to express what he thinks of the instillation in front of him. "Or people," you offered your thoughts, "The closer you are, the messier it gets. But the further you step away, the blurrier they become."

He turns toward you, "Do you ever have someone like that?" You shrugged, "Kind of? I think I was once with someone who made too much sense up close." "Too much sense?” "He was all logic, leaving no room for feelings. I felt like I have to edit myself all the time, my words, my feelings." Namjoon was quiet, "That sounds tiring." "It was."

You both lingered in the silence that follows, but it wasn’t awkward. Eventually, Namjoon glance up towards the ceiling, trying to say the right words, "There’s a newly opened rooftop cafe here," he said trying to be casual, "Do you want to get coffee?" you looked surprised, "Are you sure?"

Namjoon chuckled, "I mean. we’ve already talked about books, art, and the meaning of existence. A coffee seems pretty safe." You grin at him biting back a laugh, "Alright, mystery guy, let’s go.”

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The rooftop cafe is located beneath a wide overhang of steel and timber. You both ordered drinks, iced lemon tea for you and a hot americano for him. But when the drinks came, Namjoon only wraps his hands around the warm cup and never lifting it past his mask to drink it.

You both settled at a table near the edge, "I still don't know your name," you said, smiling as you wrap your hands around your cold iced lemon tea. He hesitated for a second then replied, “Joon.” You repeated it softly, “Joon. is that short for something or you're just trying to be vague?” He laughed lightly, “It’s short for something, but vague works too.”

“Mysterious and noncommittal. What a combo,” you said teasingly. He chuckles before saying, “Would it help if I told you I’m not in witness protection?”

You drink your iced tea, eyes playful before saying, “A little.” “I just like to keep things quiet sometimes. Names can get loud,” he said. You nodded in understanding, “Fair. People like to attach stories to names or expectations.”

“Exactly.” He leaned back slightly. “Sometimes it’s easier to just be a person, not a resume. So, what’s your name?" You finally told him yours.

“So, Joon,” you said again, this time gentler, “what brings you to a museum on a Wednesday afternoon?” He smiled thoughtfully, “I guess I miss the silence it brings especially after being away for a few months.” “That sounds like someone who has been around too much noise.” He lets out a soft laugh, “You can say that. What about you?” he asks, “Are you a mid week museum person by any chance?”

You shrug, “I work at a bookstore in Hongdae and decided to use my unused time off.” “Bookstore?” His eyes light up, “that explains Demian.” "Yep. So do you always talk to strangers about Hesse and existential questions?" you asked. He chuckles, fingers tapping the side of his untouched cup, "As I mentioned, never actually. but I will admit I was drawn to the good taste in books that you seem to have.”

You smile, setting your tea down. "That might be the nicest thing anyone has said to me this year."

There was something about the way he looks at you now, nothing romantic just intrigued. The way you smile, the way your shoulders move to shrug, the way your eyes sparkle when talking about art or books, and especially the way you think.

"You said you were away for a few months," you asked, "Work? Travel?" "Military service." You blinked, "Oh. You just came back?" "Couple weeks ago." "Is it strange being back?" He nods slowly, "It feels like I paused a version of myself and I came back to find someone else living in my skin.” “And do you like this new version?" "I don’t know him yet. But I think he feels more confident and honest."

You smiled, "That sounds like someone I would want to know. And you are actually not drinking," you observed, pointing at the cup of coffee that has been sitting there untouched.

He hesitates, "I just prefer not to take the mask off." You nodded with quiet understanding, "You don’t owe me an explanation." A pause, then he added, "It’s not about you, I promise. It’s just the world can be loud when it sees you too clearly." "I get that," you said. "Sometimes I feel like if someone looks at me for too long, they’ll expect something from me that I don’t know how to give."

Namjoon looks at you, his expression softening behind the mask. "That’s exactly it."

The conversation drifted to different things, you talked about what you were like as kids, the music you listen to when you can’t sleep, whether you thought the universe has timings.

You told him how you once cried over a poem and didn’t know why, he told you how he once didn’t speak for a full weekend, not out of sadness but out of sheer curiosity. You both agreed that silence can be comforting in the right places with the right people. "What’s the one book you wish someone would read just so they can understand you better?" you asked, leaning forward. "Letters to a Young Poet," he answered almost immediately, yours?" You looked down, thoughtful. "Probably 'The Little Prince'. I feel like people forget how heavy the book actually is." He nodded in agreement.

By the time your tea was nearly gone, you checked your phone and sighed, "Shit. I have to go. I promised my sister I would call her for something she needs help with." He blinked, like he was just forced to wake up from a good dream, "Of course." You stand up from the chair, "Thank you, Joon. For whatever this was."

"Of course, y/n. I enjoyed every second of it." You hesitated. For a second, he looks like he might say something else. Maybe ask for your number or ask to see you again.

But he didn’t and you didn’t offer. So, you smiled once more and walked away.

And Namjoon stayed behind even long after you were gone.

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The next morning, Namjoon wakes up earlier than usual. He made coffee and sat on the floor by the floor to ceiling window in his apartment with a notebook opened on his lap, staring at the same sentence he has read three times:

"Some people pass through you like seasons. Others stay like it’s oxygen."

He wasn’t sure which one you are, at least not yet.

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By Friday, he took his bike and rides it along the Han River. Namjoon likes cycling as it gives him peace and space for his brain. He rides his bike until the muscles in his legs ache and the noise in his head quiet down. He suddenly thought of the conversation with you:

“Sometimes I feel like if someone looks at me for too long, they’ll expect something from me that I don’t know how to give.” “That’s exactly it.”

He didn’t realise until now how deeply that line has him thinking.

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By Monday night, Namjoon was listening to old records and rereading Letters to a Young Poet. He highlights a sentence he didn't notice before:

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.”

He thought about sending a text to a friend just to talk. But, he didn’t. Instead, he watches the city through his window.

That night, he had a dream about standing in the gallery again, but everything in it was different; the art hanging upside down and people walking backwards.

He wakes up with the feeling there is something he still needs to do.

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By Wednesday , he was back at the Museu.

He told himself he just wanted to see the sculpture again. Or maybe he wants the a space that didn’t demand anything from him. Or, if he was being truthful to himself, he hopes to see you again.

But he wore the same hoodie. The same hat. The same mask. The same outfit as last week. Maybe then the universe would let us meet again, he thought to himself.

Namjoon moved slowly through the gallery. Past the fractured mirrors and other instillations that he wasn’t really paying attention to because his mind was somewhere else. He paused at the black and white photographs again. But this time, he sits on the bench in the centre of the room for a while, watching as others pass by without stopping.

And then, just like before, he saw you.

You were furhter down the hall this time, in front of a piece you both didn’t get to see last week. Namjoon’s chest was beating so loud that he had to take a slow breather before walking towards you. He doesn't know what he was going to say and he does not have a plan of what to say to you. Should he make it to be a coincidence? Will you think of him as a creepy man with mask-on who waits for you to come?

But he stops to stand beside you, not too close, but enough for you to feel the presence without hearing his voice. It took you a moment to turn. But you did. Your eyes widened slightly, not in shock but more like a relief.

"Joon," you said softly. He nodded once, "Y/N." You turn your head back to the painting. "I had a feeling you might show up again," you said. "I wasn’t sure if I should." "But here we are."

After a few seconds of silence, you asked him; "This one, what do you think it wants to say?" "It looks like something trying not to fall apart," he said. You nodded, "Or something that already has. But still wants to be looked at."

He looked at you, "I didn’t get your number," Namjoon finally said. You smiled, "No. You didn’t." He tilted his head slightly. "Can I?"

You pulled your phone from your jeans pocket and handed it to him, seeing this he took his out his phone and handed it to you. "You waited a whole week to ask. That’s dramatic even for a poet." He laughed under his breath, typing his number in, "I’m learning how to be patient and letting the universe take the wheel." You finally exchanged phone numbers after a week. "Text me," you said. "I will,” he replied.

You both turn to look at the painting again. And just like that, the noise inside and outside the museum begins to quiet down. And the waiting ended.

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Namjoon didn’t text you right away. He stared at your contact in his phone for longer than he will ever admit. But by the time he gets home that evening, he couldn’t stop replaying the way you smiled at him. Like you have been waiting for him, like it makes sense for him to show up.

So he sent one line:

Joon: That painting still lives in my head.

In which you reply five minutes later:

You: Same. I kept thinking it looks like something trying not to break. You: Also. Hi.

Namjoon smiled at his phone as he leans back into the couch.

Joon: Hi.

The conversation didn’t stop there. It wasn’t constant, but it continues throughout the night. He told you he’s starting to write again, but haven’t shared anything with anyone yet. You told him you have been trying to write more but weren’t sure who you were writing for or to anymore.

Joon: Should we go to a different museum? You: I’m surprised that you haven’t been to every museum in Seoul 😆 Joon: Well, you caught me, I have 😬 But Leeum Samsung Museum of Art has a new section, apparently. You: Okay. I already took another leave to go to the museum today. So can we do it on the weekend? Joon: Saturday? You: See you then. Well, I have to be early to work tomorrow. I'll be heading to bed. Good night, Joon. Joon: Good night, y/n, sleep well. Joon: Can't wait to see you again.

He stares at the last message before turning off the lights in his room.

And for the first time in a long time, Namjoon sleeps without dreaming of being lost.

[joonam]

one song too many - chapter 1 | jjk

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre: idol!au, strangers to lovers, romance, one-sided love

Summary: BTS books out a quiet restaurant in Itaewon for a private dinner, owned by a longtime friend. But their peaceful night off is hilariously interrupted when a heartbroken y/n, best friend to the owner’s wife, takes over the karaoke corner with breakup anthems and zero shame. One performance turns into a full emotional concert and Jungkook is captivated. He asks for your number just curious at first. But what starts as a simple text turns into something deeper. It begins with chaotic karaoke but it just might end with a relationship.

Word count: 1639 | chapter 1 out of im not sure yet :))

Warnings: alcohol use, secondhand embarrassment, fluff, angst.

a/n: as promised, this is the first chapter of story B. Please do tell me what you think so I can decide whether to finish this series or not xD Enjoy this one as much as I did writing it ^^

check out my: masterlist

The restaurant is located at the end of a quiet alleyway in Itaewon, between a vintage bookstore and a flower shop that somehow makes the surrounding area smells like spring even in winter. From the outside, it didn’t look like much. No flashy sign or neon lights. Just a plaque that read Dalbit, and a chalkboard outside the door with the handwritten words: “Closed to public tonight. Private event. Thank you.”

Inside, however, the energy told a different story. The lights were dimmed just enough to feel cozy without being in the dark. Wood tones, warm lighting, and large glass windows and tall curtains gave the place a modern yet inviting vibe. And in the middle of the restaurant was an unexpected and unmissable karaoke setup complete with a screen, standing microphones, and a stage lighting with ambience that glows according to beat of the songs being played.

And in the middle of stage, there was you. You didn’t know they have arrived, or maybe you did but you were too drunk to care. You stood there on the stage gripping the mic like it just broke your heart as you sing out “Goodbye, Mr. Perfectly Fine”.

BTS didn’t expect it, the voice, the vibe, and certainly not the passion behind every word you sang out. The moment they stepped inside, thinking they would be able to enjoy a private and quiet dinner at their friend’s restaurant, they were greeted with a full on karaoke performance of a Taylor Swift heartbreak anthem being sung with the kind of emotion that made you feel like the singer was either an actress or someone who just had her heart stomped on hours ago.

Their friend and the owner of the place, Jihoon, came rushing out from behind the bar to greet them, “Hey! Sorry, sorry hope that didn’t shock you.” Namjoon blinked still adjusting to the sound, “We thought we were the only ones here?”

“You are,” Jihoon said with an apologetic face, “Technically. I just didn’t have the heart to say no. That’s my wife’s best friend. She got dumped yesterday by some absolute loser and now the five of them are doing this thing of blasting Taylor Swift all night. Something about emotional healing or something.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “He must’ve really been an ass. That voice sounds like a cry for help.” Jihoon chuckled, “Well, they each drank two bottles of soju and at least sang two rounds of that 10 minute version of All Too Well. This is considered pretty mild now.”

The seven of them laughed, and Jungkook’s eyes drifted back to the karaoke stage. You stood there gripping the mic like it was first and your last time to sing on earth, dressing casually with your hair up in a bun and wearing a hoodie too big for your frame and ripped jeans.

“She actually can sing,” Taehyung said almost surprised. “Do we mind it?” Jihoon asked. “Not at all,” Seokjin replied with a grin, “This is entertainment.” They followed Jihoon to their table not far off the centre of the restaurant, plenty of space for seven people and an open view of the karaoke corner, and took their seats.

“She doesn’t sound drunk,” Hoseok observed after a minute. “But she sounds furious,” Namjoon murmured. “It’s tragic actually,” Seokjin chuckled shaking his head.

As they skimmed the menu and called over a server, your song ended, but instead of sitting back to your table, you stayed there, flipping through the tablet to pick another track. Your friends, seated on couches on the left hand side of the stage with drinks in hand, cheering as the first notes of Red played.

Jungkook leaned forward in his chair, his chin resting in his palm as he watched you. “What?” Taehyung asked, nudging him. “Nothing,” Jungkook said.

The server arrived and started writing their orders; bulgogi, kimchi pancakes, seafood stew, and some soju to kick things off. But even after the server left, no one really turned their attention away from the stage. Now you were pacing the tiny karaoke platform, hand gestures as expressive as the notes coming out of your throat.

And Jungkook somehow just couldn’t take his eyes off you.

The food came quickly but no one minded waiting. It helped that you were now singing Back to December, and Jihoon’s wife and your other friend joined you onstage. The three of you were jumping around, screaming lyrics into the mic, and laughing in between lines.

“Okay, they’re kinda iconic,” Jimin admitted taking a sip of soju. “This should be a show, it can be called ‘therapeutic chaos’.” Yoongi glanced at Jungkook, who was still fixated on you. “You okay?” Jungkook blinked. “Huh?” “You’ve been staring at her like she’s a Rubik’s Cube.” “I just,” He scratched the back of his neck. “Just admit you think she’s pretty,” Seokjin said as he playfully elbowed Jungkook.

“You want her number already?” Taehyung teased. “No,” Jungkook replied too fast suddenly blushing in front of his hyungs. “I just don’t know a lot of people who are not singers that can stand in front of strangers and scream about heartbreak.”

“She’s drunk and doesn’t even know we’re here,” Jin reminded him. “She will eventually,” Jihoon said, walking back over with an extra plate. “Especially if she starts sobbing mid chorus. But you’ll have to pretend you didn’t see.”

“Who broke up with her, anyway?” Jungkook asked curiously. Jihoon grimaced, “Some finance guy. Met him once. Wore boat shoes to every hang out, you know the type.” Jimin nodded slowly, “The worst kind.” Taehyung leaned over and nudged Jungkook with his elbow, eyes sparkling like he just came up with the greatest idea in the world, “Maybe we should join them.” Jungkook turned to him, brows raised. “What?” “The karaoke. Come on, you saw the setlist they queued, Taylor Swift all night. You know any of her songs?” Across the table, Namjoon nearly choked on his soju, “You do realize they’re on a Taylor Swift karaoke night right? That’s girls territory. You don’t just join that.” “But we’ve been watching them for like fifteen minutes and she seems cool and chill. Plus she’s drunk” Taehyung said nodding towards you.

Jungkook, already watching you again, “I know august,” he said casually. “It was on repeat everywhere for awhile especially on August.” Taehyung tilted his head, “I know august by heart.” “But you guys are walking into a minefield. One wrong lyric and you’re the villain in their girl group.” Namjoon added while setting down his drink.

“Worse,” said Seokjin. “You become the guy from finance.” Everyone at the table groaned.

Still Jungkook pushed back his chair, “We’re not finance guys,” he said simply. “And we’re not doing All Too Well (10 Minute Version), we’ll survive.” “Let’s go,” Taehyung grinned as he stands up.

“Try to not get publicly executed,” Namjoon said. “This is going to be good,” Yoongi leaned back in his seat, watching the two of the youngest of the group walk toward the stage, “I give it five seconds before someone cries.” “Hopefully not Jungkook,” Hoseok said as he laughed.

You just wrapped your eight Taylor Swift song of the night and were trying to select your next song when a voice called out, “You’re doing great!” You blinked up from the karaoke tablet and found yourself face to face with Taehyung and Jungkook, standing just a few feet away.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise, Jihoon warned you BTS would be coming tonight and you have actually seen them before as they attended Jihoon and Dahyun’s wedding, but you did not expect them to actually approach you. You figured they would just stay in their own corner, drinking quietly like celebrities pretending to be normal people.

“Hi,” you said into the mic, your cheeks a little flushed. “I’m drunk. Sorry for the commotion.” You said as you waved clumsily towards their table and the rest of BTS waved back. Hoseok cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “You’re good! Finance bros are assholes anyway!”

You groaned as you turned towards the bar, “JIHOON!” you half yelled into the mic “Did you just air out my laundry to strangers?!” From behind the bar, Jihoon raised both hands like a man caught red handed. “They’re not strangers! They’re my friends!”

“She’s so funny,” Seokjin murmured back at the table sipping his drink. “She’s so gonna regret this in the morning,” Namjoon replied.

Meanwhile, Jungkook stepped closer to the mic. “Can we join you?” Your eyes widened. “Really? You want to join me?” “If you don’t mind,” he shrugs, “We were thinking of singing august?” “Oh my god,” you gasped dramatically, “It’s a duet! Or a three duet? What do you call it when there’s three people?”

“Trio!” Namjoon called out from behind.

“Yes, that!” you said while you point your finger at Namjoon.

“Okay, everyone, please welcome the best trio in Itaewon tonight, me, Jungkook, and Taehyung. We will now be performing august by Taylor Swift. Please clap first. I need the validation,” you turned your head to look at Taehyung and Jungkook before saying, “And they need the support.” 

From behind the bar Jihoon shouted “Y/n, you do remember, they are actual performers unlike you.” “No one asked for your opinion, Jihoon,” you shouted back at him.

Jungkook chuckled beside you before leaning in and whisper to Taehyung, “She’s actually adorable.”

Your friends clapped not long after and so did the other members. Hoseok even gave a whoop of encouragement while Jimin held up his phone to start recording.

“Regret. Regret is going to hit me like a train tomorrow,” you mumbled under your breath with a smile.

Jungkook leaned towards you and whispered, “Don’t worry. You’re killing it.”

And your heart did something strange.

[joonam]

hii guys. so a while back, around the time Jin enlisted, I actually wrote a Namjoon x Reader fanfic. It’s finished and sits somewhere between 30k to 40k words, but I’ve never published it. It’s an idol!Namjoon AU where he meets the reader at an art gallery. The draft’s still pretty messy and definitely needs polishing/editing, but I’m curious if anyone would be interested in reading it? ^^

Since story B is still in progress, and I really prefer to share something that’s already complete >< lmk your thoughts~

UPDATE: you can now read the first chapter here

[joonam]

story b is what majority of you voted, and story b is what you’ll get ^^ i’ll give you guys a sneak peek of the story some time today. and see if you guys like it :))

pls i need ur help,

I've been working on two different BTS fanfic series with different vibes. I just learned that I really can't go back and forth between writing two very different series HAHA. So I guess I need you guys' help of which one would you guys be interested or excited to read first?

Story A:

Pairing: 2 of the bts members x reader (its a secret for now)

Genre: slice of life, coming of age, idol!au, friendship, heartwarming, love triangle, family drama, romance.

Summary: In 2010 Nonhyeondong, a y/n and her older brother live in a third-floor apartment just across the hall from three newly moved in BigHit trainees. Slowly, meal by meal, game night by game night, the hallway between them disappears. As more members move in, the apartment across the hall becomes more than just a neighbor's place, it becomes a home.

Story B:

Pairing: idol!Jungkook x reader

Genre: heartbreak, idol!au, strangers to lovers, ROMANCE.

Summary: BTS books out a quiet restaurant in Itaewon for a private dinner, owned by a longtime friend. But their peaceful night off is hilariously interrupted when a heartbroken y/n, best friend to the owner’s wife, takes over the karaoke corner with breakup anthems and zero shame. One performance turns into a full emotional concert and Jungkook is captivated. He asks for your number just curious at first. But what starts as a simple text turns into something deeper. It begins with chaotic karaoke but it just might end with a relationship.

[joonam]

the one (pt 2) | myg

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader (f)

Genre: angst, heartbreak, regret, breakup, idol!au, missed chances, one-sided love.

Summary: A year after a rooftop reunion with his ex, y/n, Yoongi joins a mutual friend’s birthday trip and unexpectedly finds himself face-to-face with the past he never truly let go of. With the one person he's been trying and failing to forget.

Word count: 7058

Warnings: emotional manipulation, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic, angst, heartbreak,themes of self-worth.

a/n: this was 100% inspired by Conrad on S3E4 of TSITP :) that "What have I done?" scene wrecked me so bad, and all I could think of was this fan fiction & Yoongi. I finished this at 6 AM :) ALSO I listened to "Hailey's comet" while reading this part & bawled my eyes out so if you would like extra angst, just keep that song on repeat. I really hope all of you enjoy this one as much as I did writing it ^^

check out my: masterlist

<< prev | part 1

A year has passed since the rooftop encounter with y/n.

Yoongi stood outside his car, hand in his coat pocket. It’s been a long time since he’s been out of the city, at least not for an event like this one. Not on a “birthday getaway” arranged by Haneul, a mutual friend of yours and Yoongi who somehow stayed friends with everyone across every era of his life. The kind of person who always shows up and remembers your dog’s name. And for this getaway, he invited the friend group Yoongi and you were a part of.

"Yoongi!" Haneul’s wife, Ara, called from the balcony of the Airbnb, “You made it!” Yoongi offered her a small smile before grabbing his bag. The house was located next to a river with modern wide windows, a river house attached, and a deck that overlooked to the forest. The atmosphere was peaceful.

Haneul ran up to Yoongi with a wide smile, “We thought you might cancel last minute.” “It’s been awhile Haneul, and I said I would join,” Yoongi replied, “I have no schedules the next two weeks anyway.”

“Right right. So, there’s me, Ara, Youngjae, Jiwoo, Taeyang, Eunji, Jihoo, and I did tell you Y/N’s coming, right?” Yoongi nodded once, “You did.” “Yes! So this would be like the old times, we missed hanging out with everyone being present at one place,” Haneul said excitedly. Ever since the breakup, the friend group has been hanging out in smaller circles, Yoongi would meet up with the boys while you with the girls. There was a beat of silence and a glance between them. Haneul gave a small grateful pat on Yoongi’s back as they walk towards the white house. What Haneul forgot to mention, and what Yoongi only found out when he stepped inside the house, was that you didn’t come alone.

Yoongi heard your laugh first. It was softer than he remembered. You were standing in the kitchen, unpacking groceries, your hair tied up in a loose knot and the sleeves of your grey hoodie pushed up to your elbows. And beside you was someone else, tall, with broad shoulders, annoyingly attractive in a way that felt like you picked him from a dating app just to spite Yoongi. His laugh filled the kitchen and his hand brushed yours when he reached for the chips and you didn’t flinch.

“Shit,” Haneul whispered beside him. “Yoongi, I forgot to tell you, that’s y/n’s new boyfriend.” Yoongi didn’t say anything. His stomach had already curled into itself. “I swear we only found out the moment y/n arrived that she was here with a plus one. I’m so sorry, man,” “It’s okay,” Yoongi said, eyes still on you. “It’s fine.” He said it again. And again. As if repetition could make it true.

Then you turned around, your eyes met his, and in that split second something shifted. Your smile faded just slightly, “Hey,” you said. “Hi” Yoongi replied. You stepped forward first, “This is Hoon,” you said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Hoon, this is Yoongi.” Hoon turned toward him with such an ease, “Hey, man. BTS right? Big fan!” He offered his hand, the handshake was friendly but firm. “Nice to meet you,” Yoongi said. And it was. Nice, in the way a sunny day is nice before the heat picks into your skin. Hoon’s smile didn’t waver.

Yoongi glanced at you. You were watching him carefully like you were waiting for a reaction you didn’t want but needed to prepare for but he looked away.

“You guys drove in from the city?” Yoongi asked, just to fill the silence. “Yeah,” Hoon answered, slipping an arm around your waist. Yoongi felt something bitter in his throat. Jealousy, maybe. All he could think about was: that was supposed to be me. The way your body leaned into Hoon’s without hesitation, the way your eyes softened when you looked up at him, it twisted something deep in Yoongi’s chest. What did I do? he wondered; What did I break so badly that this, you with someone else, was the consequence? “Traffic was hell, but we made it. Good thing y/n always packs snacks.” Yoongi nodded with a tight smile, “Classic y/n, always comes prepared.” The word slipped out before he could stop it. Your head turned slightly but you didn’t say anything. Haneul cleared his throat and mumbled something about needing Hoon’s help in the backyard. Yoongi didn’t move. To Yoongi, it feels like he was standing in a memory that didn’t belong to him anymore. It now belongs to Hoon. And Hoon is real. Not imagined or a possibility. Not something Yoongi could out last or hope would fade into the thin air. Hoon was here. With you.

“Alright! Rooms are upstairs, everyone take your pick. We’ll do barbecue tonight, and maybe a campfire if it doesn’t rain,” Ara shouted. Yoongi didn’t hear much after that. He made a vague excuse and climbed the stairs, choosing the farthest room down the hall.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The day passed in blur. Yoongi tried, he really tried. He made polite conversations, helped Ara and Eunji with the grill and flipping burgers. Even laughed at Jihoo’s terrible terrible puns. But no matter where he is, Hoon was always in the peripheral view of his vision, like an irritating parrot he couldn’t silence. Hoon was touching your back way too often like you were something he owned not loved. Making jokes others probably wouldn’t understand which always begins with “When I was living in London,” to remind the room of how “better” he was. There was a kind of arrogance to Hoon that just rubs Yoongi the wrong way. Hoon would overexplain things no one asks about and looks at you like he is already part of every chapter you haven’t even written yet.

Yoongi caught himself staring at you more than once. At your smile. At Hoon’s hand casually resting on your hip. At the way you didn’t flinch and didn’t move away when someone who wasn’t him touch you. And still, Yoongi stayed, forcing himself to nod and smile, to be civil. He still tried to repress his pain even though it already settled in his chest taking the place of whatever used to feel good there.

And you. You weren’t anything but distant and polite to Yoongi. Like someone who finally learned how to live with a scar without touching it anymore.

After dinner, the group went inside to hang out in the living room. Someone pulled out board games, someone else passed drinks around. Music played low from a speaker tucked into the corner.

Yoongi sat on the edge of the couch with a beer in hand. He didn’t want to look, he really didn’t. But his eyes found its way to you anyway. Sitting next to Hoon with your head back laughing at something that probably wasn’t even funny.

Still, it hit him like a punch. All Yoongi could think about was why it wasn’t him sitting next to you, making you laugh, and being the one close enough to touch your hand. And how stupid he must have been to end up here, watching you belong to someone else. Someone like dumb fucking Hoon.

“Yoongi, want something stronger?” Haneul asked while handing him a glass. Yoongi blinked. “You brought gin?” “Of course I did. What kind of party do you think this is?” He took it without thinking, fingers brushing Haneul’s in the exchange. Haneul sat on the couch next to him, their shoulders barely touching. He didn’t ask questions or say anything else, just sipping on his drink and let the understanding silence sit still between them, but his good friend’s presence was all Yoongi needed.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Later that night, Yoongi found himself out on the deck with his fingers wrapped around a cold can of beer he didn’t even remember opening. The sound of the party could faintly be heard through the walls behind him, muffled laughter, clinking glasses, a distant song no one was really listening to.

He didn’t turn around even when he heard the door creaked open with footsteps followed.

“Hi,” you said carefully like you already knew this conversation was going to hurt.

Yoongi took a slow sip. “Didn’t know you’d bring him.” You hesitated. “He wanted to come, and I figured it would be nice for him to get to know my friends.” You came closer, standing next to him at the railing. For a moment, neither of you said anything. “He’s not a bad guy,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I know you probably don’t like him, but he takes care of me.” Yoongi didn’t look at you, just stared into the forest like it has the answer to a question he never asked, “Didn’t say he wasn’t.” “You didn’t have to,” you said. “I know you don’t like him.” You paused, then added, quieter, “And I hate that I care what you think. But I do.” That made him turn to you, just slightly. “I want you to know I’m okay, Yoongi,” you continued, fingers fidgeting with the end of your sleeve, “Does he seem good for me? I mean, from the outside?”

Yoongi exhaled, slow and heavy, “If you’re happy,” he said, “That’s all that matters to me.” You didn’t respond.

You bit the inside of your cheek for a second, like you wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. And Yoongi didn’t ask why you just didn’t say what you wanted to say. Because deep down, he already knows. He knows that if you opened your mouth, you might say this feels wrong or maybe something just honest enough to hurt. He knows you were still thinking about everything left unsaid between you and that standing here beside him in the dark was the closest you would come to touching what used to be. Even if it’s been six years, he still knows you. How could he not understand his one?

So he let it hang there. Because asking might break whatever peace you were both pretending to have. And this pretend act was somehow safer and better than the truth.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The next morning was worse. Hoon was louder today, acting different than last night. There was a subtle shift in how he moved around you, somehow less polite and more possessive but only someone watching too closely would notice. And of course Yoongi noticed, he’s been watching you closely since yesterday.

He saw how Hoon hangs his arm over your shoulder while you poured coffee and his fingers casually toying with your hair like he needed to mark you. Like he was saying, she’s mine, without ever opening his mouth. And Yoongi knew all too well that it was directed at him.

Yoongi noticed how Hoon corrected you mid story and you smiled like it didn’t bother you. And when someone asked you about your job, Yoongi’s hands clenched quietly at his sides as Hoon answered for you, not giving you the chance to speak

Yoongi caught the way Hoon always has to be the one holding the control. The way he direct conversations to making it about him, the way he casually interrupts others and talking over you, especially when you disagreed.

And when you made a quiet joke under your breath, Yoongi watched as Hoon laughed dismissively, while saying, “You’re so cute when you try to be funny.” Yoongi’s jaw tightened. If looks could kill, Hoon would be dead within a millisecond.

He saw how Hoon using nicknames in public that made you shrink, like “Babe, not now.” or  “God, you’re sensitive today,” like a typical misogynistic Korean man.

And worst of all, Yoongi saw how you just played along. Smiling while shrinking yourself smaller just to keep Hoon comfortable. And it made his stomach turn.

You don’t even realise it’s happening, he thought. Or maybe you do and you’re just too used to it and too tired to fight it. He really didn’t know which one was worse.

Jealousy and rage was all Yoongi felt in his body. But it wasn’t just because Hoon is your partner. But it was that Yoongi didn’t see you anymore, not the way he used to. Not the cheerful and opinionated version of you who used to challenge him mid-sentence, who used to talk and express with your hands, who used to cut in with jokes, and fill every room like your presence was the main event.

Now, you’re quieter. Everything you do and say seems so calculated. Like you were scared of stepping on the wrong things.

And Yoongi hated that. He hates that Hoon seems to kill the life out of you. That you were shrinking in real time.

He wanted to stand up and to call Hoon out right there in the middle of the room. To say, Let her speak. Let her finish. Let her breathe. But he didn’t. Because he knows you wouldn’t like the aftermath. You wouldn’t want to sit through the stares, the awkwardness, pity, and the discomfort that would follow.

You hated conflict, even when it came in your defence, and Yoongi remembers it all. Everything about you.

So Yoongi stays seated, fists clenched under the table, even though the tension was already undeniably there.

Where did you find this guy? Yoongi thought bitterly. Seriously.

You can do better, he thought, eyes narrowing at you slightly, So much better. Better than someone who needs to talk over you just to feel important. Better than someone who acts like your stories are just an opening show for his own, when you are the main character. Anyone but Hoon, Yoongi thought. I would be happy if it was anyone but Hoon.

He took a slow breath, trying to calm the rage building in his chest. He hates seeing Hoon touch you so casually like it wasn’t a privilege to be able to touch you.

What happened to you? To the version of you Yoongi last saw on that restaurant's rooftop a year ago, with your calm and steady voice, the way you sat in front of him like you know what you want and you refuse to settle for anything less than what you deserve. What happened to the confident girl he met just last year?

How did it come to this? To you biting your tongue, shrinking next to someone who didn’t even notice the way you were feeling. He wanted to pull you aside and ask. To say to you that This isn’t you, this isn’t what you deserve. But part of him is afraid that you already knew that but were just too tired to fight it.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

"Yoongi, your turn!" Haneul said pointing at him to pick between truth or dare. “Truth,” Yoongi said. “Okay, okay,” Haneul grinned. “Easy one, what’s the one thing you regret not doing when you had the chance?” The group went silent, some teasing “ooooh” fills the room.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. “I regret not leaving a meeting,” he said with a calm voice.

And the room went silent. They all knew the meaning behind the sentence he just said. Yoongi looked at you for a second too long before looking away.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

That same night, Hoon got drunk. The kind of drunk where he could barely stand. He pulled you onto his lap even though you tried to stay seated on the couch. He poured you more and more wine even when you already said no. When you got up to go to the kitchen, Hoon followed you like he was your shadow.

The kitchen was quiet when Yoongi entered, but he heard you. “Hoon, seriously. I said I’m done drinking.” “Oh come on, babe. It’s a party,” Hoon said, “You’re acting like such a killjoy.”

Yoongi stepped in. “She said no,” he said with voice cold. Hoon turned, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth. “Hey, it’s the ex. The pretty BTS boy ex."

You froze. Yoongi didn’t look at you, “She said no,” he repeated firmer this time. Hoon took a step closer to Yoongi. “What, you her bodyguard now?” “No,” Yoongi replied. “But I’m not blind.”

There was a beat of silence. Then you stepped between them, placing a hand on Yoongi’s chest, gently pushing him back. “Yoongi,” you said softly. “It’s fine, I’m fine”

He looked at you, and for the first time since arriving, he let you see the truth in his eyes. “It’s not, you’re not.”

You swallowed hard. “Please. I don’t need to be saved."

Yoongi clenched his jaw. Then slowly, he stepped back. He didn’t say another word. Just left the kitchen and went straight to the porch shutting the door behind him hard enough for the others to wonder what happened in that kitchen.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

After everyone had gone to bed, Yoongi was walking to the kitchen to refill his water. As he passed the bedrooms’ hallway on his way there he didn’t mean to linger, but as he walk past your room, he heard raised voices behind the door.

And then, Slam. The door shook in its frame. Yoongi didn’t move. Just stood there, a few steps away from your room. And Hoon stormed out a moment later, brushing past Yoongi without a word. Yoongi watched him go as if rage was trailing behind him like smoke. That door wasn’t the point. Yoongi thought. It was the message Hoon wanted you to know. An ugly display of control and power, like Hoon wanted you to know; I could hit you if I wanted to. This isn’t it for you, he thought. This can’t be it. Because whoever you are with, whoever you chose to be with, you deserve someone who never makes you flinch.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Yoongi followed Hoon outside. Hoon was sitting on the porch, pretending to scroll through his phone like the argument he just had with you never happened.

“Hey.” Hoon looked up, caught off guard. “Yoongi.” He said it like a challenge. Yoongi didn’t smile. He took a slow step closer, arms folded across his chest, “You always slam doors when you’re losing a conversation?” Hoon lets out a sarcastic laugh, “You eavesdropping now?” “No,” Yoongi said, voice calm. “Just happened to walk by and you weren’t exactly subtle.”

A beat of silence stretched between them. Hoon looked away scoffing under his breath. “Look, whatever you think you heard-” “I didn’t hear anything,” Yoongi cuts in, “But I saw enough.”

Hoon shifted in his seat, “This really what you came out here for? To lecture me?” Yoongi took a long breath. He didn’t want to lose it, not here and not like this. “I came out here to say one thing, you don’t get to treat her like that.” Hoon smirked at the statement, “She doesn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, if he thought he was full of anger then, well he is furious and fuming now, he took another breath before saying “That’s because she gives people the benefit of the doubt, even when they don’t deserve it.” He took a step closer, “But I see it. The way you talk over her. the way you control the room. slamming a door just loud enough to scare her.”

Hoon’s face stiffened, “Back off.” Yoongi didn’t.

“You don’t get to shut her down and call it love,” Yoongi said with a steady voice, “You don’t get to walk around acting like you’re some good guy.”

“You don’t know what is going on between us,” Hoon muttered finally. “No,” Yoongi nodded in agreement. “But I know her and I know she deserves better than a man who uses silence like a weapon.”

Hoon looked at him, smirking now, with a kind of arrogance that made Yoongi’s blood simmer. “What?” Hoon said, “You gonna punch me now?” He tilted his chin up, mocking, “Go ahead, pretty BTS boy. Show me what you little boys have.”

Yoongi stared at him, not giving him anything other than silence. For a split second, the tension was through the roof. But Yoongi didn’t take the bait. He stepped forward, not to punch him, but to be close enough that Hoon would feel his controlled rage.

Yoongi’s voice was low and controlled, “If I wanted to hurt you,” he said, “I wouldn’t need to lift a hand. You’re already doing a damn good job of destroying yourself.” Hoon's smirk faded hearing that.

“You act like you’ve won something,” Yoongi continued. “But you don’t know her. And I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”

Yoongi then stepped back, staring down at Hoon, “You’re not worth the mess a fight would make.”

And with that, Yoongi turned, walking away, not because he couldn’t fight. But because he already knew who he was.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The morning air was too quiet. The kind of quiet that didn’t feel peaceful just empty. You wandered the house barefoot, a cup of tea in hand, scanning the living room, the hallway, the deck, the garage.

But Hoon wasn’t anywhere to be found. He wasn’t in the kitchen. Not in the bathroom. Not outside. You checked your phone again. No texts. No missed calls. You circled the house once more. You asked Ara if she sees him anywhere and shook her head. Eunji haven’t seen him either. Haneul said he must’ve gone for a walk or a smoke or something and telling you to calm down. Then Jihoon said he saw him and Yoongi talking last night.

It’s been over an hour now and Hoon wasn’t answering his phone. You stepped outside onto the porch, fingers wrapped tightly around your now cold tea. There he was, Min Yoongi. Sitting at the edge of the deck, hoodie pulled over his head, and a cigarette between his fingers.

You stopped a few feet behind him, your heart beating too loud in your chest, “Did you say something to him?” Yoongi didn’t move. He didn’t even turn around. Just exhaled a long breath, “Good morning to you too,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you stepped forward, “He’s gone. No one’s seen him since last night. He’s not answering my calls.” your voice cracked slightly, “Jihoon saw you guys talking last night. So what did you say to him, Yoongi?”

Yoongi looked up then, “If he left,” he said, “that’s his choice. I didn’t tell him to go.” You crossed your arms, tea now completely forgotten in your hand, “But you wanted him to. Don’t lie to me. You couldn’t stand seeing me with someone else.”

“You think I needed to say something for him to walk away?” Yoongi said.

“I saw the way you looked at me. Every time he touched me. Like I was doing something wrong," you replied.

Yoongi blinked slowly, like he was carefully choosing his words one by one. Then he stood up, cigarette still in between his fingers. “You think that was jealousy?” he asked, “I wasn’t jealous of him being with you. I was angry that you let yourself shrink when you're with him.”

“I was angry,” he said, “that you kept smiling even knowing he just talked over you. That you laughed less. That every time he shuts you down, you acted like it didn’t matter, like you’re used to that.”

He paused before softening his voice, “You didn’t used to do that with me. You used to fight me when I interrupted you. You used to tell me what was on your mind. That’s who I remember. That’s who I couldn’t find this weekend.”

Your eyes filled with tears that you were holding back with everything you have.

“I didn’t want him to disappear,” Yoongi added, “But I wasn’t going to keep pretending I didn’t see the way you were shrinking yourself for him.”

You turned away, blinking back whatever threatened to rise. “I don’t need to be saved,” you said, quietly. “I know.” He nodded. “But you don’t deserve to disappear either.”

Yoongi stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray by the porch railing, then turned to look at you one last time. “You think I said something to make him leave?” he said. “I didn’t. He left because he knew you’re slipping through his hands. I just happened to be there when it started.”

You didn’t look at him, but you felt something shift in the air. Like something inside him cracked open just a little. And then, barely above a whisper, he said it:

“I love you. Even after six years, I still love you.”

You froze. He stepped closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that you could feel his presence and the weight of what he was finally saying:

“I love you so much, too much,” he continued, voice breaking in all the right places. “that the thought of you being happy with someone else doesn’t hurt me,” he paused, “not like you think it would.”

You turned slowly to look at Yoongi.

“But the thought of you being small, losing who you are, because of how he treats you?” he shook his head, eyes locked on yours, “That’s what kills me. That’s what I can’t stand.”

Yoongi exhaled, long and slow, then stepped back just enough to let you breathe again and process everything he just said.

“I’m not saying this to win you back,” he added, softer now. “I’m saying it because no one else seems to be saying it to you. And you need to hear it because I want nothing but the best for you, y/n."

You didn’t know what to say but your silence wasn’t rejection. And Yoongi knew it.

Because for the first time in a long time, the silence between was full of everything you were both finally starting to say.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The sun has set behind the trees. The scent of grilled meat filled the air mingling with the smell of Haneul’s birthday cake. It was the kind of evening that should feel easy and comforting. And yet for you, everything feel just a little out of place.

You haven’t seen Hoon all day. He hasn’t returned your texts. You already wandered around the property twice hoping to catch a glimpse of him by the river or on the gravel path behind the house.

And then, not long after everyone sits down in their designated chair in the dining room, Hoon returned. He walked in from the front, wearing a fresh shirt, hair damp like he just showered, with that relaxed smile on his face as if nothing happened at all. You were still holding your breath when he leaned down and kissed your cheek in front of everyone.

“Sorry,” he said casually arm around your waist, “I just needed time to clear my head.”

You said nothing. The words you wanted to speak just stopped in your throat. And when he sat next to you, poured you more wine without asking, you forced a tight smile and pretend the gesture didn’t bother you. Everyone else politely moved past it, unwilling to ruin the evening for Haneul. But Yoongi has been watching, you knew he was.

He hasn’t said a word to you since dinner started, only answering questions when prompted, offering half smiles when someone cracked a joke. But his eyes didn’t stay on his food or his drink, they drift towards you every time Hoon touched your arm or interrupted your story. You felt his eyes. Each glance he threw you like a question: Is this really who you want to be with?

Then Haneul stood up, glass in hand, his smile wide and genuine as always. “To another year older and wiser,” he said warmly. “Thanks for coming, all of you. You guys are family.”

The group raised their glasses. A soft cheers and laughter followed around the table. You joined in. Even Yoongi tapped his glass against Jiwoo’s and Haneul’s, though he sets it down afterwards without drinking.

Then, before anyone could move on, Hoon stood up. Everyone glanced at one another. Someone cleared their throat. Yoongi didn’t look up, but you saw the way his hand curled just slightly on the armrest of his chair.

“Can I say something?” Hoon asked, already standing tall and smiling like he was on stage. Before anyone could respond, so he went ahead anyway.

“I just want to say how lucky I am to be here,” he began, “Surrounded by all of Y/N’s amazing friends. You guys are incredible.”

You stared at your plate. “And, of course,” Hoon added, turning toward you, “I’m the luckiest man alive because of you.”

You didn’t smile even though you knew you were supposed to. You just gave a small nod, eyes fixed on the plate on your table, waiting for the moment to pass.

Then Hoon turned to Yoongi, “And to Yoongi, BTS Yoongi, pretty boy idol Yoongi,” he said, his grin widening as if he has finally gotten to the part of the speech he was really here to deliver.

“What a guy. Must be hard, huh? Staying friends with your ex while watching her move on right in front of you.”

No one laughed, “You need to stop talking, Hoon,” Haneul said with a stern voice and an even scarier gaze.

“No no, but seriously, bro,” Hoon continued, lifting his glass, “it’s been six years. Move on.”

Still, Yoongi didn’t move. The entire table has gone quiet now, even the music playing softly from the speaker seemed to fade away.

Then Hoon chuckled and delivered the final blow: “I mean, y/n's great. But is she really that great?”

Yoongi stood, not with drama, just a quiet scrape of the chair legs across the floor and the deliberate motion of a man who finally decided enough was enough.

“You don’t say her name like that,” he said.

Hoon blinked trying to smile, “It was a joke, man, lighten up.” Yoongi didn’t flinch. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

“You don’t get to joke about her. Not her name. Not her worth. Not in front of me. Not ever.”

Then, after a beat, his gaze sharpened,

“She’s not just great. She is everything to me. And the fact that you have to ask, says more about you than it ever could about her.”

His tone was calm, but the words behind it silenced the entire table. He looked at you then and in his eyes were everything he never stopped feeling for you. Then he turned and walked away, out of the house to the porch, his wine glass untouched, but his head high.

You sat frozen, the words still echoing in your ears. And you felt the line between being protected and being controlled. Between being known and being claimed.

Hoon sat back down beside you, grinning like nothing happened, like he didn’t just embarrass himself in front of every single person you loved.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡ The house is quiet again now. The plates cleared, conversations dulled into whispers, and most of the group gone back to their rooms. But you stayed in the kitchen, standing at the sink with a sponge in your hand and a plate you probably already washed three times.

You heard his footsteps before he spoke. “Hey,” Hoon said casually, leaning against the fridge. His voice was light, almost amused, like nothing happened, “You good?” You didn’t answer right away. Just placed the plate gently in the drying rack and dried your hands on a towel. When you turned to face him, your face was calm but your voice was stern, “No. Not really.”

His smile faltered, “Come on, lighten up” he said, chuckling under his breath, “You know how group dinners get. Everyone’s always a little too sensitive. I was just loosening up the mood.” “You humiliated me.” You didn’t raise your voice, “You humiliated yourself.” Hoon blinked, he wasn’t expecting you to actually confront him. “It was a joke.” “No, it wasn’t," you folded your arms. “You stood up in front of my friends and turned me into a punchline. Oh, and you turned Yoongi into a target. And for what? To make yourself feel bigger?”

He scoffed, “I was saying what everyone’s thinking. The guy’s clearly still obsessed with you.” “That doesn’t give you the right to say that to him,” you said, firmer now, “especially not in front of me.” He tilted his head, a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips. “So I guess this is the part where you make me the bad guy, huh?”

You didn’t answer. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, crossing his arms now. “I do one thing wrong, one thing, and suddenly you’re acting like I’ve been awful to you this whole time.”

You blinked. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to,” he snapped. “You’re twisting it. Making me out to be insecure and controlling just because I called out the obvious. So what, you’re taking his side now?” he asked, “Do you even hear yourself? You’re defending your ex while dragging your boyfriend.” “I’m not defending him. I’m defending me.” Your voice was low but clear, “Because I’ve been quiet for a long time. And I have let too many things slide. But I’m done doing that.”

Hoon took a slow step closer. “This is rich,” he said bitterly, “You think I’m the only one who ever gets it wrong? I make one stupid toast and suddenly I’m abusive? Give me a fucking break.” “I didn’t say you were abusive,” you said carefully, “but I’m starting to realise that I’ve been changing so much about me to suit your moods and your ego that I barely recognise myself anymore.”

He shakes his head. “Jesus. You sound just like your ex.” You swallowed hard. “No, I sound like someone finally saying what needs to be said.”

Hoon looked at you for a long moment with a flat expression. Then something shifted, his voice was colder, “You know what?” he said. “I’m done. I don’t need to be in a relationship where I’m constantly being compared and guilt tripped for not being perfect. If you’re still hung up on some idol who writes songs about you, go for it. I’m not playing third wheel with your past.”

Your breath caught in your chest, but you didn’t speak. “And don’t pretend you’re heartbroken,” he added, “I fucking knew this would come back to him eventually.”

You blinked, “This has nothing to do with him. The last time I spoke to him was a year ago and before that we went 5 years without even talking!”

“Oh, come on.” He stepped closer. “He breathes in your direction and suddenly you found your voice again? You let him say a sentence and suddenly you remember what you deserve? Give me a break.”

He shook his head and spat out a final sentence: “You were never over him anyway.”

There it was. The truth he has been holding onto like a weapon, waiting for the moment it would hurt most. You lifted your chin. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t excuse what you did tonight.”

He stared at you for a few seconds like he was waiting for you to apologise. But you didn’t. You just stood there without giving in, for the first time in a long time.

And that made him angrier than anything. “You know what?” he said, voice cold now. “If you want to be the tragic love story in his next album? Be my guest.” He turned to leave then looked back at you to say, “Don’t pretend you’re heartbroken. You’ve been halfway gone ever since we started dating.”

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You stayed there after Hoon left. The silence in the kitchen wasn’t comforting at all. You could still feel the warmth from where Hoon stood minutes ago like the ghost of his anger clung to the kitchen. You stood by the counter, arms folded, staring at nothing, as the final words he threw at you replayed again.

“You were never over him anyway.” “You want to be the tragic love story in his next album? Be my guest.”

You didn’t cry because deep down, you knew: he wasn’t wrong. You never truly moved on. Not from Yoongi.

You laughed. You lived your life. You got up in the morning and went to work and learned how to sleep alone. You filled your time with noise and people and new habits. But your heart? It never really erased him. You just got used to the empty space he used to fill. You adjusted your life around the pain. You stopped expecting his messages and started pretending the silence didn’t bother you.

It wasn’t that you wanted him back. It was that no one else ever really reach you the way he did. No one saw you as completely as he does. Yoongi had been the only one who ever loved you without asking you to change yourself to suit him.

You turned off the kitchen light and stepped into the hallway. You didn’t feel broken nor lost.  And you knew Hoon was right. You were never over Yoongi. But maybe, just maybe, you don't have to be. Because a love like yours and Yoongi's doesn't just vanish. It lingers. And it waits to be picked back up to remind you of the kind of love you deserve.

The kind that doesn't ask you to be small. The kind that holds space for you to be yourself.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The morning came quietly, sunlight shining through the trees and hitting the porch. The air was still damp from last night’s storm. You sat on the wooden steps wrapped in a  blanket, knees drawn to your chest, fingers curled around a ceramic mug. The coffee has gone cold long ago, but you hold it anyway.

You woke up alone in your bed and yet you didn’t feel devastated. You felt empty but the feeling was more like a storm that just passed and now there was only silence and sunlight breaking through.

The porch creaked behind you. You didn’t look, but you knew it was Yoongi. His steps were soft and deliberate like the way someone walks when they don’t want to intrude. He moved into your space like he has done it a thousand times before, without permission but never unwelcome. He sits down beside you without a word.

For a long time, the only sound was the low sound of the water. “I didn’t think you were up,” you said, voice quiet, still looking at the trees. “I couldn’t sleep,” he replied, “too much in my head.” You nodded, “Yeah. Me too. Are you going to tell me ‘I told you so’?”

“You know I’m better than that, y/n,” Yoongi didn’t say more. Then he just waited for you, like he always does. You sat with it a moment longer before speaking again. “We broke up. Hoon and I. He left some time last night.” Yoongi didn’t react but something in the air changed.

“I think he’s been waiting for me to walk away. But I didn’t.” Yoongi said nothing and just gave you space to talk about it. “I told him the truth. That I never really moved on," you kept your voice steady, “not from you.”

Yoongi’s gaze dropped to the coffee cup in his hands, “I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“I didn’t expect to feel it,” you said, “not this clearly, but I do.” He looked at you then. “But that doesn’t mean I forgot why we broke up,” you added, “Yoongi, we ended for a reason.” He nodded slowly eyes never leaving yours. “I know.” “You chose everything else over me. Work. The band. The deadlines. I came second every time.” “I remember,” he said softly, “And I know sorry doesn’t fix it.”

You swallowed, “You didn’t fight for me. Not when I was waiting for you.” His shoulders dropped in acceptance, “I didn’t know how,” he said, “I thought loving you would be enough. I thought showing up for my work means I was building something for us. But I see now, I wasn’t showing up to us.”

You didn’t look away, “And now?” He hesitated, then met your gaze, “Now, I’ve changed. Not overnight but I’ve gone through those six years too, alone. and every night your name still floats around in my head.”

“But I don’t expect you to trust that,” he added gently. “Not just because I say I’ve changed," he shifted slightly, turning his whole body to face you more. “So let me show you. Let me earn it, day by day. Not with words but with my presence.”

You stared at him, “I don’t know If I’m ready to jump into a relationship right now,” you said. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know today.” Yoongi replied.

His eyes softened, still locked on yours. “I waited six years,” he said, “I know I can wait longer and for you I will. God, y/n, I love you.”

His confession didn’t come with expectations or pressure. He wasn’t asking for anything. He was just telling you how he feels.

You looked at him and even though your lips stayed sealed, your eyes said everything, and Yoongi knows that. He didn’t need to hear it, he’s not even expecting you to say it back any time soon. Because he noticed how comfortable you were sitting next to him, the way your shoulder leaned the slightest bit closer, and the way you didn't look away when he said the words that has lived under his skin for years.

So, Yoongi just stayed beside you, watching the trees sway, and his hand resting inches from yours.

If it takes more time, he will give it more time. If it takes more quiet mornings like this, he would show up for every single one.

Because he now knows what he doesn’t before; that love is about choosing someone, every single day. And today, in the quiet morning, you both have chosen each other again. You have chosen him.

And that was more than what Yoongi needed. To know that his one is choosing him again.

The End

[joonam]

You guys, I just finished watching The Summer I Turned Pretty episode 4, and I was bawling my eyes out even my bf was so stunned because I couldn’t stop crying. That ending with Conrad? It wrecked me. And all I could think about was Yoongi and this story. It just hit way too hard. So yeah, I’m writing a part 2. No one asked for it, but here we are (I'm literally in the process writing it rn and I'm already at 1.5k words). It might be out tomorrow or Monday depends on how much I ended up pouring into this. Stay tuned, I guess~

the one | myg

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader (f)

Genre: angst, heartbreak, regret, breakup, idol!au, missed chances, one-sided love.

Summary: Five years after the end of his relationship with you, Yoongi still lives with the what ifs and what could have beens. The 1 looks at how some heartbreaks never fully heal, some memories never fade, and how Yoongi is still learning to live without y/n, the girl he never stopped loving.

Word count: 3625

Warnings: regret, angst, sadness, emotional heartbreak. basically angst and angst and just more angst

a/n: this is my second one shot, after right where you left me. im also trying to write a more happy series instead of another sad one-shot. but writing this one took a lot, now my brain needs a break before i can start again. ANYWAY, enjoy!!

They say time heals everything. Yoongi thinks that’s fucking bullshit.

Because five years have passed since you walked out of his life and yet here he is, halfway through his third cup of coffee of the day, staring at an empty screen in his studio.

He doesn’t expect you to message. It’s been too fucking long. And Yoongi knows that you were never the type to reach back once you made up your mind to walk away. But some part of him still scrolls back through the old chat every week. Wondering back and forth if he should delete the chat history which he knows he would never do. It’s pathetic, actually. But Yoongi has made peace with the fact that this particular heartbreak gets to stay.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You and him were never the flashy type. There were no couple rings or accessories, none of those anniversaries with balloons and flower petals, and no instagram posts under cherry blossom trees. But the love was there and loud in a different way, in the late night takeout runs, the quiet yet loud support, the way you steal his hoodie, and the way you fall asleep to his songs still looping in your ears.

He used to write for you but never about you. He wanted to keep that part of his life with you untouched, hidden from cameras, and free from speculation of the public. Yet he knows that you eventually do come up in the songs he writes even without him meaning to.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Both of you started dating in 2013, not long after his debut. Yoongi was running on convenience store ramen, caffeine, and crippling anxiety that his group might not make it. Then you showed up with your soft spoken voice, stubborn in your own way, unimpressed by the possible glitter of his career. You didn’t care about him being in BTS. You cared if he has eaten or if he is sleeping well. You cared if he still remembers to be a human.

You showed up in the rain with tteokbokki and wrote him notes on post it notes like “sleep is also productive.” You never demanded space in his world, you simply exist there like you always belonged. And for the first time, something in Yoongi’s life felt calm like a steady light in chaos.

You never asked him to be romantic like what others on social media define what a couple should be like. You said his presence was enough and maybe that’s why he always wanted and tried to give you more and more and more. One night he tried to really cook a full meal with side dishes and soup. And he somehow burned the rice and undercooked the egg yet you still ate it. You teased him and said, “You’re a genius with music, not food. Let’s not get greedy. Stay in your lane, baby.” He laughed harder than he had in weeks and accidentally spilled his beer on the rug. You made him clean it up while holding your phone filming him like he was in some kind of cooking show gone wrong. He still has that video in a folder dedicated to you on his computer that he opens every now and then.

Your dates were convenience store runs in matching slippers at midnight. You always picked something sweet and he would get the opposite. Once, the cashier mistook you for siblings. You didn’t correct him, just held in your laughter until you were outside with your head against his shoulder.

You used to test how long he could go without saying “I love you.” Told Yoongi it’s more fun when he broke first and he always did say it first. Usually after you tripped over his oversized pants or rapped his part in a BTS song into your corn dog like it was a mic. “God, I love you so much, baby” he muttered under his breath and you smiled like you just won a trophy.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Most of the staff didn’t even know he was in a relationship and you liked it that way. “I don’t want to just be the girl Yoongi dates,” you once said, curled up next to him. “I want to be the reason you remember who Min Yoongi is, who you are.”

There were days when you didn’t talk much. You’d sprawl on the couch reading, while he worked on a song in his laptop. Sometimes you would sing off key to get his attention. When he finally gave in and asked why you were singing that way, you shrugged and said, “Because you never look up unless I break your brain a little.”

You loved the rain. One day, you stepped out from under the umbrella to tilt your head back and catch drops of rain on your tongue. “You’re gonna catch a cold,” he would say every time. And you responded with, “Not possible, I'm next to the hottest man on earth” He laughed before kissing you harder than he did on rainy sidewalks.

You fought over stupid things like who finished the last yogurt, whether he spent more time with his piano or with you. One time you threatened to write a diss track about how loud he snored. He dared you and the next morning he woke up to a Soundcloud link titled “Big Truck (feat. Yoongi’s Nose),” which Yoongi still listens to until this day, five years later.

Sometimes when the studio is too quiet and the nights too long, Yoongi lets himself pretend that you were still with him. In some other universe where timing was kinder to the both of you. In a universe where he left the meeting and held your hand tighter. Where you didn’t have to walk away just to be seen. He has no excuse but he knows it would’ve been better if you were the one.

Life would have been sweeter if he was the one for you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

We lasted five years. It wasn’t one big fight that ended the both of you. It was a thousand small cuts. Missed dinners. Cancelled trips. Yoongi choosing the studio again. And again. And again. At some point, he stopped noticing how often he was saying, “Can we do this next week?” You never threw it back at him, you just stopped waiting.

And the night you left, you didn’t cry. You just said,

I love you. But I don’t think you know what to do with it, Min Yoongi.

And you were right. It was October 2018. The tour had been relentless and Yoongi hasn’t come home in over two months. You just wrapped up a brutal week at work and you were supposed to meet him in his place, just for a weekend, just to breathe together for 48 hours. He told you he needed to cancel the plan, how something came up. A last minute meeting or a label dinner, you don’t even remember what it was now.

You sent him one last message that night:

I don’t want to resent you, so I’m leaving before I do.

And he didn’t respond. Not because he didn’t care, he just didn’t know what to say. He sat on the edge of the bed with his phone still in his hand and let you go. Like a fucking coward.

Like someone who somehow, in the worst timing possible, forgot that love isn’t something you earn once, it’s something you choose over and over again.

Min Yoongi the coward.

He didn’t choose you that night and he has been paying for it ever since. He didn’t chase after you. Not because he didn’t want to but because he felt time stop and every emotion collapsed on him, like the walls trained him too well to sit still quietly.

The next day, he went back to work like nothing happened.

Yoongi kept showing up to interviews, to rehearsals, to meetings because what else can he do? He built a life that does not allow for him to fall apart. He buried grief the only way he knows how, by making music. The world clapped for every new track he put out. And no one noticed the muse was gone, except him.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

It hit hardest in the smallest moments. When he comes home to silence instead of your laugh echoing from the bathroom. When your extra pair of chopsticks stay untouched in the drawer. When his phone buzzed at 11:32 PM and for a split second he let himself hope. But it was always someone else, not you.

He tells himself he did the right thing and how dreams demand sacrifice especially the one he was chasing. That timing was evil. But then he remembers the way you used to touch his back when he was half asleep on the couch like you were making sure he wasn’t drifting too far even in his dreams. And he wonders if a love like that comes more than once in a lifetime.

He knows now, it won’t.

It was the little things that pains him the most. You always hated socks with holes so you tossed out his old ones even if he protested and now he can’t bring himself to throw any away. He still has the hoodie you used to steal, the one you claimed didn’t smell like him anymore, but you kept wearing it anyway. He folded it neatly in the top drawer like some kind of sacred item he would never dare to touch.

Yoongi thinks it’s funny how a person can leave, but still be everywhere.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The body doesn’t forget what the mind tries to repress. If anything, it shows in every breath. Yoongi dreams about you not often but always so vividly. And it was always the same dream; you're laughing before saying, “You’re late again.”

They say healing isn’t linear process. That some days, you’ll feel okay while other days, you’ll feel like it's day one all over again. Yoongi knows that better than most, it’s been five years.

But the truth is: if wishes actually come true? It would've been you. Because you are all Yoongi wishes for.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Five years. People think it he would have been okay by now, but Yoongi still feels it. His apartment feels colder even with the heater on. The bed feels too big, sometimes, he finds himself turning the volume of his speakers up just to drown out the sound of missing you. He knows it’s ridiculous how long it's been, how little progress he has made. It turns out heartbreak doesn’t have an expiration date.

He didn’t try to replace you, he never even dreamt of it. But he kinda did try with the push of his friends. There were nights filled with faces he doesn’t remember and names he never asked for. Everyone said that’s what he needed, a rebound. But all they ever did was remind him of everything you were and everything they weren’t. None of them laughed at his dry sarcasm the way you did. None of them knew they he likes his coffee like you. None of them offered silence like it was comfort like you did.

His members noticed. Of course they did. Even Jungkook, who usually keeps his thoughts to himself, surprised him one night after dinner, “Hyung,” he said cautiously, “why don’t you just go after her?”

Yoongi didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know what scared him more: the idea that you moved on or the idea that you haven't and he wasted all this time doing nothing.

Your name never left his phone. Your texts stopped coming but he never blocked or deleted your contact. Every once in a while, he scrolls through your old chats, rereading the “good morning” messages, the blurry pictures of you holding snacks you bought for him but also for you. and the last thing you ever wrote him:

Take care of yourself, okay? It's the least you could do for me.

No matter how many years passed, Yoongi just seem to not be able to erase you and the ghost of you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

It’s been five years since you left. Five years since you shut the door on a chapter that once feels like forever. He’s no longer the first name on your mind in the morning.

You don’t date. You don’t rush into anything or fill the space he left with someone else. You’ve learned that moving on doesn’t mean replacing and healing doesn’t always come with new love.

Some days, you think about him not with pain but with a sort of gratitude. For what you both had, what you learned in the relationship, and what you let go. Thinking about the missed dinners and cancelled trips don’t sting you anymore. They’re just part of your story like chapters in a book you once couldn’t put down but now able to read with peace.

You accepted that sometimes love isn’t enough and people grow in different directions. You don’t blame him for choosing the studio over you. You have always understood the sacrifices that came with his dream.

You fill your days with your own routines now. Found a workplace you love, friends who love you for you, and a cat that purrs next to you every night. You’ve stopped avoiding news of BTS and stopped skipping songs of theirs. When you pass places you once went together like the coffee shop, the restraurant, and the park bench, there’s no longer pain in your heart. Just a recognition to the past and a step forward. You might catch yourself singing a melody he wrote, but it doesn’t break you anymore. It reminds you of growth from who you were to who you are.

You rarely think about what might have been. You now know how live in the present. You already accepted how some love stories don’t end with forever. Some are chapters that teach you how to love yourself and that’s exactly what you have done.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The restaurant was warm and lively. You and your friends decided to have one of those “we need to get out of the house” kind of nights.

The first floor had a cozy feel. Exposed brick walls, soft lighting from the lightbulbs, and the aroma of garlic and grilled meat filling the air. Your group had claimed a corner table near the window, and the conversation flowed easily with light jokes and shared stories. You smiled, grateful for this simple moment.

Across the room, your gaze flicked around until it landed near the entrance. Your eyes caught movement, seven men stepping inside. They were immediately recognisable, especially now that they are a global group. The way they carried themselves, confident but casual with subtle smiles exchanged among them and the others who noticed them.

Before you could process what was happening, a voice broke through the sound of the restaurant. “Yoongi hyung, isn’t that Y/N?” Jungkook’s words carried a little too loudly for you and a few others around to hear.

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded slowly and your friends’ eyes followed your gaze to where BTS were standing, preparing to head upstairs. There was no sudden surge of emotion like awkwardness, instead, a calm settled over you, as if you were ready for this moment.

They acknowledged you briefly, subtle nods and soft smiles as they passed by your table on their way to the staircase leading to the rooftop.

You stood up, turned to your friends, your voice steady as you asked, “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

They gave you understanding looks, hurrying you off with smiles, and a few teasing remarks about running into an old flame.

The stairs creaked softly beneath your feet as you made your way up to the rooftop. The atmosphere up here was more private, the group gathered around a low table under strings of warm lights. The boys looked up as you approached them and you felt the weight of years missed in that moment when your eyes met Yoongi’s.

He looked older than you remembered, and tonight there was something more vulnerable in his gaze. You nodded to him softly, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between you. The air was thick with all that have been left unsaid over the years.

Yoongi’s hand tightened on the edge of the table, a subtle gesture betraying the pain under his calm exterior.

Your friends’ laughter echoed faintly from downstairs, a reminder of the world moving on, even as you stood here in front of him.

You spoke first, voice low and steady. “It’s good to see you.” He nodded slowly, “You too.”

The other boys shifted, sensing the thick air and offered you a warm smile before moving to another table nearby to let the two of you share this moment.

Yoongi studied you for a moment. There were new lines on your face, ones that came from living. You look beautiful as always. He didn’t know what he expected. maybe some signs that you were affected from the breakup? Maybe he hoped to see even a glimpse of the same pain in your eyes that he still carries in him even after five years.

“Five years,” he finally said, not as a question, but more like an observation. A statement of not believing that it really has been that long. You nodded. Yoongi’s lips twitched like he wanted to say an apology. But nothing came, so he reached for the glass in front of him, took a slow sip of water, and let the silence stretch just a little longer.

“You look well,” he said as he looked up, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” You leaned back slightly, “Neither did I,” you admitted, “But back then, I also didn’t think I was going to be able to hear your songs without feeling so much pain.” “And now?” He asked. You smiled softly looking at him, “Now I just hear someone I used to love.” Yoongi winced, but he nodded, “That’s fair.”

The silence between you two wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like it was supposed to be there just like two people sitting in the aftermath of a storm acknowledging the things its destroyed but choosing not to go through it again.

“I read our messages sometimes,” he said suddenly. “The old ones. You sent me so many pictures of snacks I never even liked.” You laughed, surprising even yourself. “You always pretended to like the snacks, though.” “I love you,” he replied, voice low, "that was why I pretended to like them.” You didn’t look away, “I know," pretending like you didn't hear the present tense in his statement.

“You ever think about” he trailed off then shook his head. “No, forget it.” You raised your eyes, “No, go on.” He looked straight at you, “You ever think about what it would’ve been like if I just left the meeting that night? If I came to you?”

You didn’t flinch, because you did think about it a million times and a million different ways, but you also know that clinging to the possibility of different decisions will never bring you peace. “I used to,” you said. “But I don’t anymore. I know now that even if you came home that night, it wouldn’t have fixed everything, the cracks were already there.”

Yoongi exhaled. “Yeah. I know.” You reached for the drink in front of you and took a sip, “But I also know we loved each other. That wasn’t an act.” “No,” he agreed quietly. “It never was.”

The boys glanced over occasionally, but didn’t dare to interfere. They understand for the both of them, it was about presence, about being here in the now. Just two people who used to belong to each other, facing the past to finally let it breathe.

Yoongi spoke again, “I think I’ll always carry you. Not in a sad way, just as part of me.” You nodded, “That’s all I ever want.” You stood up first, smoothing your shirt, “I should get back before my friends start guessing dramatic things.”

Yoongi gave you the smallest smile that screamed I'll miss you. As you turned to leave, he called your name once, softly. You turned back, “y/n, If we meet again,” he asked, “do you think we could try again?” You tilted your head. “Maybe,” you said. “But only if we both remembered to choose each other every single day.”

He nodded.

Then you walked away, the love of Yoongi's life walked away. Your footsteps light and your heart calm. You didn’t look back and Yoongi didn’t ask you to even though he did hope for you to look back. He watched you go, but for the first time in five years, he let you go not with grief nor regret, but with love.

still and always.

After you walked away from the rooftop, Yoongi remained in his seat even long after the boys returned to the table, their laughters and conversations filling the air like background noise. His mind was still focused to the sound of your voice, to the way you looked at him when you said, “Only if we both remembered to choose each other every single day.”

Yoongi sits in that moment and finally accepts the truth. You’re no longer his. And yet, he’s grateful for what you will always be to him. For a kind of love that never demanded more, yet gave him everything.

Maybe, in another life, you would’ve been the one. But in this one, Yoongi has to learn to be whole without you, the one for him.

[joonam]

right where you left me (pt 2) | jjk

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre: exes to lovers, slow burn, reunion, regret, idol!au, second chances, long-distance.

Summary: One drunken kiss destroyed everything. A year after confessing his mistake, you and Jungkook met again in Tokyo. Right where you left me (part 2) follows the journey of Jungkook and y/n trying to find their way back to each other.

Word count: 6749

Warnings: cheating, jealousy, long-distance relationship, alcohol mentioned, breakup, regret, angst, sadness, FLUFF.

a/n: As requested by anon! I hope you like this part 2! and thank you for requesting this because I genuinely felt so happy writing this like I legit couldn’t stop writing HAHA. I needed to write something less angsty and this one was full of FLUFF and I loved writing it. Anyway, im OPEN for one-shot requests!! For now, enjoy this one! <3 check out my: masterlist

<< prev | part 1

Jungkook and you didn’t get into a relationship immediately. You started talking again with the mutual hope of finding your way back to each other.

After those two days in Tokyo where you were able to catch up with him and the rest of his members, they had to return to Seoul as other schedules were waiting for them. You watched him leave to the airport, anxious about the reality of having to be on a long distance.

When he was away, your phone comes back alive with messages from him. A sight you haven’t seen for a year. Sitting in the waiting room before his rehearsal, Jungkook glanced at his phone, knowing you haven’t been eating well lately, he typed quickly:

Jungkook 🐰: y/n, did you manage to eat something other than just four pieces of sushi today? please tell me you’re eating properly.

You: Of course, I even ate three ramen at midnight, a very fancy meal if you ask me.

He laughed softly to himself and quickly reply:

Jungkook 🐰: Did you really eat all the ramen by yourself last night?

You chuckled quietly at your desk and answered honestly,

You: you have no idea what my eating habits have been like since last year.

Jungkook’s smile slowly fades as he read your message, so much happened in that year apart, moments, struggles, the routines you have, and he wasn’t there to share with you. It made him realise just how much he probably has to learn about you again; who you hang out with in the past year, what things have changed in your life, if you still even use the cherry scented shampoo.

Later that afternoon, during a quiet moment at work, you sent another message.

You: I swear my coworkers are suspicious. they think I’m texting a secret boyfriend.

Reading your message, Jungkook smiled, wanting to tease you a little bit:

Jungkook 🐰: They would be correct on that assumption. You are texting the most handsome potential boyfriend in the world.

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you typed:

You: By the way, I saw the video of Bam learning how to sit. Are you training him to be my substitute because of the distance?

Jungkook 🐰: Nah, he snores louder than you.

You: I do not snore.

Jungkook 🐰: sure thing, princess.

Reading that message made your heart flutter. You missed his playful nicknames more than you expected, even a simple tease like “princess,” makes you feel as if the connection between you two have never really faded even after a year apart.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The sight of Tokyo can now be seen beneath the plane window as Jungkook leaned his forehead against the cool glass. He was supposed to be in Seoul, preparing for a studio session, finalising the last touches for the group’s anniversary project. But he begged his hyungs to let him visit you, and of course they let him. They also wanted you back in his life. The plane touched down with a soft bump and slowly moved towards the airport. Jungkook sat still even after the seatbelt sign turned off, watching other passengers standing up, collecting their things, and whispering in various languages.

Tokyo in early spring feels a little bit chilly as he waited across the street from your office building standing beneath the shadow of a tree. A mask covered the lower part of his face and his hoodie covering his hair. He didn’t know what he was doing, really. He didn’t have a plan. He just wanted to see you. It’s been two weeks since you last see each other.

The door buzzed open around 6:23 PM. You stepped out of your building office with your scarf wrapped loosely around your neck. You didn’t see him at first as you cross the street towards the subway station and when you looked up, your heart stopped beating. You saw him on your right, standing beneath a tree not far from the entrance of the station. He tilted his head and waved his hand slowly.

You walked towards him, “What are you doing here?” you asked when you reached him. “I didn’t come to ask for anything,” Jungkook said. His voice was steady with his hands buried deep in his pockets. “I just wanted to see you. To show you I meant it when I said I’ll earn your trust back.” You sighed softly, scanning his face as if trying to measure the honesty in his bones.

“You flew here, to Tokyo, just to see me?” “I flew here,” he nodded.

“I’m glad you came.” You looked like you wanted to argue. But instead, you asked, “Have you eaten anything yet?” “No.” “Good,” you muttered.

“You still like soba?” He blinked. “Always.” “Come on,” You didn’t talk much during the walk. The streets to the Soba restaurant were narrow. You brought him to a small soba restaurant tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore. You chose the booth farthest from crowd and entrance.

“Do you think you’ll be recognised here?” you asked as you sat down. “I don’t care if I am.” You frowned, “You should.” He just shook his head and smiled slightly. “Only thing I care about right now is this moment.” You smiled at his answer and flipped the menu open even though you probably already knew what you were going to order.

“How long are you staying in Tokyo?” you asked. “I leave Sunday.” You nodded slowly. “Three days.” “Unless you want me to leave earlier.” You didn’t reply. The waitress arrived. You ordered and he did too. And then there was silence again until the soba came. You started eating and so did he.

Halfway through your meal, you finally spoke. “So what now, Jungkook? Are you going to keep showing up?” He looked down at his bowl for a long second before looking at you, “Not unless you want me to. I want to give you space but also show you I’m serious." You were quiet again. “I don’t know if I can believe you, yet.” “I don’t expect you to believe me right away after our last meeting,” he looked down, picking up a noodle with his chopsticks, “I just want to prove to you that I can be consistent that you’re worth all the effort and you’ve always been.” Your voice dropped, “Even when you kissed someone else?” He flinched. The question landed like a sharp knife stabbing his chest, “I think about that moment every single day,” he whispered. “And I hate myself for it. I hate it because I hurt the person I love most. I became what you were afraid of.”

“I want to be better,” he continued. “Not just to win you back, but because I know who I don’t want to be again.” You stood up to pay with him following you as you both make your way out of the soba restaurant, “Walk me home,” you said.

The walk was longer this time. You stopped once to adjust your scarf and another time to point out the vending machine you love to go to for melon soda. Outside your apartment, you turned to him, “This doesn’t mean I completely forgive you or that we are officially back together.” “I know.” “You’re flying back Sunday?” He nodded.

You looked at him for a second before turned around and unlock your door. You didn’t look at him when you invited him in, “Come in.” He hesitated only for a heartbeat then followed your steps. The lights inside were golden making the place feel lived in. There were thrown blankets over the couch, a few unfinished design mockups spread across your dining table, and a small framed photo of you and Bam placed on the console table.

You walked toward the console by your TV, picking up two controllers. “One match of Mario Kart? Just one.” His lips twitched, “You sure you want that kind of humiliation?” You scoffed at him, sitting cross legged on the carpet, “Shut up and choose your character.” He dropped to sit next to you, his shoulder barely brushing yours. You could feel the warmth from his body making you feel nostalgic.

“Still going with Yoshi?” he asked, glancing sideways. “Still the fastest with him,” you replied. He picked Donkey Kong then the game started.

And just like that, the room lit up with laughter and old insults. You elbowed him when he hit you with a lightning. He threatened to unplug the controller when you beat him on Rainbow Road. At one point, you both yelled at the screen, “SHE STOLE MY MUSHROOM!” in perfect sync. It was ridiculously loud and familiar. And for the first time in a long, long time, your apartment didn’t feel so cold.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

It was almost midnight when the match ended, one game turned into two, then two into three and you continued playing until 10 matches.

You stretched groaning dramatically, “My back hurts. You made me sit wrong.” “You elbowed me five times.” “Only three,” you held 3 fingers up at him. You stood rubbing your neck. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. You can stay over if you want. You can sleep on the couch or” you paused your heart beating loud, “the bed. If you want.” He blinked. “Are you sure?” You nodded slowly. “Just to sleep.” Jungkook whispered, “Okay.”

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You laid on opposite sides of the bed. At first, you were facing the wall, trying to steady your breath so he wouldn’t be able to hear how fast your breathing has become because of him. The room was dark except for the glow of the street lamps through the blinds. You heard him shift once. Then again. And not long after, his voice, soft behind you, “Can I hold you?”

You didn’t answer right away. Then you turned around. In the dim light, you gave him a small nod. His arms wrapped around you. The moment your body was pressed against each other, you relaxed like it was muscle memory. And Jungkook? He held you like he was afraid you might vanish in your sleep. Nothing else was said that night. Not as his breath slowed and yours synced to his.

But somewhere between 1 AM and the moment both of you fell asleep, the distance between past and present began to fade.

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Saturday morning drifted in softly and sunlight shines into the apartment through thin curtains as the streets nearby start to make noises. You stirred awake on the bed, blanket tangled around your legs and Jungkook was nowhere to be seen. Your first instinct was to worry, was this all temporary after all? You walked to the living room and he was nowhere to be found. But then, the front door creaked open and there he was balancing two paper cups of coffee and a convenience store bag filled with sweet buns and onigiri.

“Morning,” he said with a smile that still knocks the air out of you. “Where’d you go?” “Didn’t want to wake you. Thought I’d get us breakfast.” He handed you the coffee. “You still like taro sweet buns right?” “Yes, my favourite.” “I remember,” he said.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Later that day, as you both sat on a bench outside on a park near your apartment, you told him about the little tea shop you stop by every morning before work. “They know my order by heart now,” you joked. “Earl Grey milk tea with less sugar. I’m officially boring and old.” He looked at you like before asking, “Will you take me there?”

So you did.

It was a tiny place tucked between a stationery store and a dry cleaner. He watched you greet the barista with a smile and saw the way she already greeted you by your name and your drink in progress before you even say anything to her.

“You weren’t kidding,” Jungkook whispered, amused, “You’re a regular.” “Told you,” you said, sipping the tea and handing him a taste. “Try it. You’ll either love it or say it tastes like perfume.”

He took a sip and blinked. “Its good. It tastes like a tea you have in spring after swimming for rounds?” You raised an eyebrow. “That’s oddly specific.” “Yeah,” he said, staring at your eyes, “So are my feelings.”

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of him quietly zipping up his bags. He was leaving. “I don’t want to leave,” Jungkook said, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed. “But I have to.”

“I know.” He took your hand in both of his, “I’ll call when I land.” “And I’ll answer.” He kissed your forehead and whispered, “I’ll always come back to you, no matter what.”

You stood in the doorway of your apartment as he disappeared down the hallway and into the elevator.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Monday comes like it always does; too soon. You walked into your usual tea shop, scarf pulled high against your chin. The tea is a must before you commute to the office. The barista greeted you by name and placed your usual drink on the counter. Then with a smile, she reached under the counter and handed you a sealed envelope.

“From your boyfriend,” she grinned. You blinked. “What?” She pointed at the envelope. “He left it Saturday afternoon and asked me to give it to you every Monday and Friday for the next four weeks.” You stared at the paper in your hand as if it was a time bomb. Slowly, you opened it:

Monday, Week 1 I know letters are old school and we should probably save the trees. I know I could just text you this. But something about your tea shop feels personal, like a part of your life I was never around for. So here I am in your tea shop, well at least a written version of me, asking if I have permission to enter this part of your life. I want to walk the path of my life with you, y/n. In all seasons and through this healing. Until I can see you again in 4 weeks, I hope the written version of me keeps you smiling throughout the day. I love you. – JJK

Your fingers trembled as you took out your phone and typed.

You: I received the note today. Jungkook 🐰: You did? You: I didn’t expect it. The barista called you my boyfriend. Jungkook 🐰: She wasn’t wrong, was she? You: Potential boyfriend, you’re not off the hook yet, Kookie. Jungkook 🐰: I know. Potential boyfriend is better than not being in your life at all. Did you like the note? Did I surprise you? You: I teared up at the register. You’re lucky I didn’t cry into my precious tea. But you didn’t have to do this. Jungkook 🐰: I know, but you let me try and I won’t let that go to waste.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

On Friday, the barista handed you your regular drink and another envelope with a wink. You opened it on the train this time;

Friday, Week 1 I regret what I did. I regret the night I drank too much. But I never stopped loving you. I love you. – JJK

You texted him immediately.

You: You know you’re wrecking me with these, right? Jungkook 🐰: That’s not really the goal, I promise 😭 You: I think I might not hate you anymore. Jungkook 🐰: That means everything.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Monday, Week 2 I’ve been reading again. Mostly poetry, stuff you would laugh at me for like romantic metaphors about stars and hands. But they make me think of you. Of the way your fingers loop into your mug handle. Of how you stare out the window and your eyes lit up every time you see a cat or a dog. I want to know all the little details again, the new habits you’ve built the past year. – JJK

You smiled quietly before texting him:

You: You used to hate poetry. Jungkook 🐰: I still kind of do but not the ones that sound like you. You: A habit that will probably never go away is that I still bite the inside of my cheek when I’m focused. Jungkook 🐰: I remember that. You might not believe how vividly I remember your habits even after a year apart.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Friday, Week 2 If forgiveness is a language, I’ll learn to speak it fluently. If love is patience, I’ll wait for you until the end. I’m still yours, always have been and always will be. – JJK

You wanted to cry but held it back before texting him:

You: You’re really trying, huh? Jungkook 🐰: For the rest of my life if I have to. You: I think I’m starting to believe you. Jungkook 🐰: Then I’ll write a million more.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

This time, you walked in and asked the barista for the letter before she handed it over. She laughed, “He told me you would start asking.”

Monday, Week 3 I miss you. But more than that I want to be worthy of you again. – JJK

You: Jungkook Jungkook 🐰: Yeah? You: Sometimes I miss who we were. Jungkook 🐰: Me too. You: But I think I’m falling for who you are now. Jungkook 🐰: I never stopped falling for you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Friday, Week 3 I wrote a song for you during our time apart, it’s called Still With You. I want you to be the first to listen to it. This is a link to my private SoundCloud, https://soundcloud.com/swyforyn I want this song to accompany you on your commute to work. –JJK

You typed in the link onto your phone and puts in your earphones as you pressed play.

Your light voice that passes by meWould you please call my name one more time?

Your breath stopped.

Although I’m paused underneath the frozen sunset,I’ll walk towards you one step at a timeStill with you

A tear drops free before you can even try to hold it back it.

Dark night with no light, I shouldn’t get used to it, but I already have. The sound of AC If I don’t even have this, I think I’m going to fall apart. Together we laugh, Together we cry These simple feelings were maybe all I had

You just can’t stop crying as the song goes on;

When will it be when I see you face to face I’ll look you in the eye and say I missed you. In the fascinating memories even when I dance alone, the rain still pours. And when the fog in my mind clears, I’ll run with my feet wet to you.

You exhaled. The song felt so raw that you could feel his emotions. Another verse begins. You’re gripping your phone like it was his hand.

Looking up, the moon is so lonely. It is crying out for somebody to join it in the sky. And I know morning will come and I wanted to stay by your sky like a star.

You can’t help it, you smiled through your tears.

Though our steps may not go along together, I still want to walk this path with you. Still with you.

As the final lines play, she types out a message:

You: I listened. I loved it. You: And it felt like you were standing next to me again. You: Did you really write that for me? You: I think you just pulled me back closer and closer to you. Jungkook 🐰: I’m glad you like it. Jungkook 🐰: It’s for you. Every word. It’s how I felt for the past year.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Monday, Week 4 The last note is next Friday. But I hope this isn’t my last letter I write to you. I hope you will still allow me to write to you when you’re beside me again because I know love isn’t just one grand gestures. I want you to be reminded of my love for the rest of your life. – JJK

You: You’re insane. Jungkook 🐰: I’m in love.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The barista handed you the final note with a smile and a quiet, “He said this one mattered most.” So you opened it with careful fingers.

Friday, Week 4 You don’t have to say yes now. You don’t have to move mountains or fly to Seoul or even text me back today. But if there’s still a tiny part of you that believes in us, then tell me so I can ask you again. And this time, it will be perfect. – JJK

You typed slowly before hitting send:

You: I got the last note. Jungkook 🐰: Yeah? You: I don’t think I want this to end with a letter. Jungkook 🐰: What do you want it to end with? You: a new beginning.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The messages were quiet after that as you both were caught in busy schedules. Some days, you only exchange a handful of lines. Other days, it was long threads about what snacks you were craving or which Valorant agent you were maining now.

You: I rage quit mid match today because some random called me “healer trash.” I’m offended and also slightly amused. Jungkook 🐰: I will 1v1 him immediately. How dare he. You: I think I miss your dramatic Valorant commentary more than anything. Jungkook 🐰: AND HERE COMES SAGE, PUSHING MID LIKE A DUELIST AND OH MY GOD, SHE’S DOWN. You: STOP

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

On the day before your birthday, Jungkook sent you a voice note:

Hey, I’m sorry barely texted you today but I didn’t want to let the day pass without saying something. Hope you’re okay. Hope work didn’t burn you out too much and you don’t stay overtime especially since tomorrow is your birthday. I hope you’re sleeping well. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

You played it three times before finally falling asleep.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You were home alone on Thursday. Working from home and scrolling through work emails when a knock came at the door. You didn’t expect anyone, even on your birthday since it was a work week. But when you opened the door,

“Surprise!” Jungkook stood in your hallway, with a black cap and a hoodie over it and a mask pulled down to his chin, holding a paper bag with a bakery logo you instantly recognized.

“I brought your favourite,” he said softly. “From Seoul. I had to fight two middle-aged women and at the bakery line for it, even though I literally got it in my hands first”

You blinked at him, stunned. “Jungkook. You. You, flew in?”

“For your birthday,” he nodded. “I want to be with you on your special day.” Your heart started beating loudly, “Come in,” you whispered.

That night, you cut the cake in your kitchen. It tasted exactly like you remembered, layers of strawberry sponge, cream with the right amount of sugar, and soft strawberries in the middle.

“You remembered which one I liked.” “You talked about it for three days when you first tried it,” he said, “I had no choice.” You both laughed.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Jungkook stayed for the weekend and the days unfolded like something familiar was blooming. Friday night, you played Valorant side by side, you with your PC and him with his gaming laptop. You bickered, screamed, and threw a pillow at his face after he baited you into a mid push you definitely weren’t ready for. “You did that on purpose,” you glared. “You need to practice reacting under pressure,” he defended, trying not to smile.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Saturday afternoon, you took him to your favourite stationery store and he pointed at the ugliest pen to ever exist, it was different shades of green with glitter, and a weird looking duck on top. “You need this.” “Why would I ever need that?”

“To sign important contracts or write letters to your boyfriend.”

You blushed and bought it anyway.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

That Saturday night, the two of you curled up in your living room with Switch controllers in hand, and Mario Kart flashing on the TV screen. “Okay, No Waluigi this time. I don’t want you to play Waluigi and spam bananas at me,” you said. Jungkook scoffed at you, “It’s called strategy. And Waluigi is a king.”

You snorted. “He’s a menace and you know it.” “Fine,” he said dramatically, scrolling through the character wheel. “I’ll be Baby Peach for you.” “God, that’s worse.” “You just have no taste,” he said.

The first round started and it was like no time has passed. Jungkook started making some background music with his mouth, like that one background music in The Jaws right before the shark attacks. And he sang it right before dramatically announcing, “Here comes Baby Peach with a banana!” “You’re insane.” “Insanely good at this game,” he grinned, drifting perfectly pass your kart and tossing a banana backward that knocked you off the track.

“You did not.” “Oh, I did,” he smirked.

By the third match, you were both yelling. The neighbours probably hated you now but you didn’t care. Jungkook slammed his fist on the pillow when you used a lightning bolt against him just as he was about to win.

“You’re evil,” he said with fake rage. “You waited. You actually waited until I was about to cross the finish line," he continued.

“That’s called strategy, Kookie.”

By the time midnight rolled around, you had each won four games. You sat beside each other, your legs stretched out as you both stared at the TV screen where the final scoreboard showed a tie.  

“Hey,” he said after a moment. “Hmm?” “Thanks for letting me try again with us. The stupid gaming. The cake. All of it.” You looked at him, soft light from the TV screen shining on his face, “You’re welcome.”

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The final night before he flies back to Seoul, you lay side by side, facing each other under the blanket. Your nose nearly touching his and his hand around your waist. “Do you regret it?” you asked quietly. “Regret what?” “Coming here. Even if you know this doesn’t mean we’re together again .” “Not even for a second. I’d rather be in this limbo state with you than live a life without you.”

You looked at him before leaning in to kiss him. You didn’t kiss that night to say goodbye. You kissed to say; I still love you too.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The apartment was quiet again on Sunday as he left to go back to Seoul. You sat on your couch, legs pulled up to your chest, sipping hot coffee. Looking at the ugly duck pen placed on your coffee table. Then your phone buzzed.

Jungkook 🐰: On the plane. Will be taking off soon.

You: I just opened the fridge. I didn’t notice you eating half the cake AND leaving me the sad side.

Jungkook 🐰: That’s the side with strawberries. I saved it on purpose. That’s love.

You: 🙄 sure thing.

Jungkook 🐰: Thank you for letting me in again.

You: I haven’t fully yet.

Jungkook 🐰: I know. I’ll wait, I’ll keep showing up. I’m not letting us go this time.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

It had been a really good week. You were working on a new pitch, Jungkook sent a late night selfies of him and Bam sleeping next to each other, and you just bought a new skin in-game that he pretended to be jealous of. Everything is settling into a gentle routine. You haven’t defined what this was yet but you are on your way there, to be official again. But it feels good to laugh with him again, to send each other selfies, and debate over who was the better player in the games you play.

Until that photo. A new soloist under HYBE, Minah, posted a rehearsal selfie on her Instagram stories, she was standing close to Jungkook, shoulder to shoulder, enough to make your stomach twist when you saw it. You weren’t the jealous type but I guess after everything fell apart last year, you changed. It probably doesn’t mean anything. You repeated it over and over. She’s a new artist. She probably looks up to him. Plus they’re not allowed to date artists under the same agency. But still, it did something to you.

That night, when he texted:

Jungkook 🐰: just arrived in Busan for filming. finally off that horrible car ride.

You didn’t reply to his message. So when morning comes around, you received another message:

Jungkook 🐰: you okay?

You: yeah. just busy.

He noticed. Of course he noticed, he knows you. That night, he sent a voice note that you didn’t play until hours later:

Y/N, you’re not okay. I can feel it. I don’t exactly know what happened but if something’s bothering you, I want you to tell me. Even if you think it’s stupid, especially if you think it’s stupid.

You didn’t answer. You were halfway through lunch the next day when your phone buzzed again:

Jungkook 🐰: Flight lands at 8. can we talk?

You blinked before sending:

You: flight?

Jungkook 🐰: I’ll be in Tokyo tonight. I’ll come to yours if you’re okay with it.

You sat in stunned silence, your chopsticks forgotten. Your heart was beating so loud you barely heard your coworker asking if you were okay.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

He arrived in front of your apartment just after 8:30 PM, wearing a hoodie, cap, and the usual mask enough to shield himself from attention but not from you. You know those eyes too well.

“I saw the post,” you said before either of you stepped inside. “From rehearsals with the new soloist.” “I knew you did,” he answered gently. “That’s why I came.”

So you let him in. He took his shoes off while letting the silence sit between you as you poured two glasses of water. He sat on the couch and looked up at you, waiting for you to say what was on your mind. “I know I don’t have a right to be upset,” you began, voice low. “We’re not anything official. And I told myself not to care. But” “You do,” he said. “So it matters.”

You looked down at your hands. “I just felt that pain again. That feeling I had when I found out about the kiss. She was just laughing, and you looked so easy with her. And I wasn’t prepared for how fast that old pain would come back.”

He set the glass down carefully. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve told you we were rehearsing. Minah’s debut stage is next month and they paired her with me for the dance mentor rounds.”

You didn’t interrupt him, “I want you to know that I'm not mad you that feel jealous.” “I was scared I’d sound insecure," you said. “I’d rather have your honesty than your silence, y/n. I barely survived the one year you were gone.”

Your eyes welled up before you could stop it. “I just don’t always trust that I’ll be enough.” His head shot up. “You are. You always were.” You looked at him through tears. “Then why did you kiss someone else?” He reached for your hand slowly, letting you pull away if you wanted but you didn’t. “I was stupid and drunk,” he swallowed hard, “But not a single day passed where I didn’t wish I could undo it.”

You finally looked at him, “It still hurts a little bit,” you admitted. He nodded. “I know. And I’ll stay with you through it, even if you never say the words I want to hear again. Just don’t shut me out, y/n. Let me keep showing up for us”

You sit in silence for a few seconds more before shifting slightly on the couch, leaning into his side,

“You’re annoying,” you whispered, “flying out here because I ignored a few texts.” He smiled, “You’re worth the flight.”

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The sun was setting in Tokyo’s skyline as office lights flickered on one by one. Jungkook stood across the street from your building. He was trying to look casual but he was also very much watching the entrance door of your office. You didn’t see the text he sent yet; "Outside. No rush.”

When the doors finally opened, you emerged with your coworkers. Jungkook’s lips curved into a smile immediately. Then he saw a tall, stylish Japanese guy with glasses, sweater sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows. He was saying something that made you throw your head back laughing, something clearly meant only for you.

Jungkook blinked slowly.

The others walked off one by one, waving their goodbyes, until it was just him walking you across the street. Jungkook stepped forward just as you spotted him.

Your face lit up. “Kookie! You didn’t tell me you were waiting for me” “I did, baby,” he smiled softly making sure this Japanese guy in front of him heard him calling you baby, “You just didn’t check.” You grinned, “I’m sorry, work brain.”

The guy's smile was polite, “This is your boyfriend?” he asked, he didn’t sound like he was mocking, just curious.

You nodded. “This is Jungkook, my potential boyfriend and Jungkook this is Ryota, a coworker of mine” Jungkook gave a little bow as he said “Nice to meet you.” Ryota smiled before saying “Guess the rest of us are done for, huh?” He chuckled, You laughed at him, “Stop being weird.” Jungkook kept the smile on his face until Ryota walked away with a wave.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Jungkook has been quiet ever since dinner, scrolling on his phone while pretending to watch the reels on his phone. You poked him with your finger, “You’re quiet.” He looked over slowly. “That guy,” he said. “Ryota.” You blinked. “Yeah?”

“He likes you.” You stared at him, “What?” “I mean, I get it,” Jungkook said carefully, putting his phone down. “You’re incredible, funny, and beautiful. And he works with you, sees you every day, It’s not exactly a shocking plot twist, princess”

You sat up a little straighter. “Jungkook.” “I’m not mad at you,” he said quickly. “I just,” he sighs, “He looks at you like I do and that terrifies me.”

“He’s just a friend,” you said gently. “We joke around. That’s all it’s ever been.”“Yeah, well,” Jungkook said rubbing his chin. “I’ve been the guy who jokes around before, that’s also how we start.” You paused. Then set your laptop aside and got up.

He watched as you crossed the room, pulled out your phone, and scrolled. You held your phone up to him showing a message window with Ryota.

You: Hey. Just a heads up, I’m seeing Jungkook. Wanted to be clear in case anything’s ever been weird. All good vibes, just being honest.

Jungkook stared. “You didn’t have to,” “I did,” you said, “Because your peace of mind also matters to me.”

He blinked hard, the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. Then his phone buzzed, a notification from Instagram of you posting a story; a shot of your hands holding two mugs, his and yours, with the caption: "being with him > everything."

Jungkook didn’t say anything right away. He just reached for your wrist pulled you gently toward him until you sat back down on his lap, facing him, as he buried his face in your chest. “Thank you,” he whispered. You pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I want this to work,” you whispered back. “So we’ll talk when we’re scared and we’ll go through the hard things together. But no more shutting down.” He nodded.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Two months. That’s how long it’s been since that night where Jungkook felt insecure about you and Ryota. You think about how Jungkook has really tried his best to earn your trust back. He flew back and forth from Seoul to Tokyo, wrote you letters, he didn’t miss your birthday, reassured you time and time again.

And the both of you text every day even with the distance and busy schedules. Reminders to eat, to drink water, the occasional meme followed by him typing “this reminded me of you.” He even checked the weather report in Tokyo to remind you to bring an umbrella when it was forecasted to rain. And sometimes, late at night, you both will be playing a game while talking about how your day went.

Jungkook has somehow built his way back into your life and earning your trust back not forcefully or hurried. Just step by step, like he was showing you how to trust and love him again. It was also the consistency that rebuilt your trust more than any apology ever could.

So when your boss mentioned you having unused day offs, you booked the flight the Seoul. With no warning nor hint to Jungkook. You landed in Seoul on a Friday afternoon and got into a taxi to make your way to his apartment. When you arrived, you texted him:

You: Are you home?

Jungkook 🐰: Yeah, just finished rehearsal. Why?

You: Can I call you?

Jungkook 🐰: Always.

You hit FaceTime and smiled the second his face appeared in your screen. His hair was still damp from post rehearsal shower and cheeks slightly flushed. “Hey,” he said already smiling. “Hi,” you whispered, biting your lip. “So, I’m kind of hungry.” He smiled looking at you adorably, “Should I order something for you?” You held back a grin, “No need. I’ll just grab something in your fridge.”

“From my fridge??” he asked full of confusion.

Then you lifted your phone and turned your camera around, showing him the familiar sight of his apartment building. There was a pause.

“Wait. Wait.”

You turned the camera back to yourself, already smiling, “Surprise, baby.”

You barely had time to say anything else as the sound of his door opening echoed through the call. The line went dead. And a minute later, the front door to the building swung open.

And there he was. Jungkook. Barefoot with mouth parted in disbelief.

“No fucking way.”

You grinned, “Yes fucking way.”

He ran towards you and before you even noticed, his arms were around you, lifting you off the ground in one motion as your bag dropped at your feet and your face buried into his neck. He smelled like his peppermint shampoo and everything that once feels like home.

“You’re really here,” he whispered into your hair. “You’re really here.” You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “I didn’t want to wait anymore.” Jungkook blinked fast. “What do you mean?” You smiled, heart beating so loud you were sure he could hear it.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about the last few months. About how you’ve treated me. About how I feel when I see your name on my screen. And I think,” you continued softly, “that you’ve earned your way back to me. I don’t feel unsure anymore.”

His eyes welled up instantly. “I want this,” you said, voice shaking. “I want you. If you still want me too.” He didn’t answer right away.

He cupped your face gently, stared at you like he was trying to memorise this exact moment,  “I never stopped wanting you,” Jungkook whispered.  You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“So,” he said softly, thumb brushing your cheek, “can I call you my girlfriend again?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah,” you said, just above a whisper. “You can.”

And then he kissed you. Soft at first like asking permission, before kissing you deeper. When you both pulled away, you were smiling and crying at the same time.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You spent the rest of the evening eating delivery pizza on his couch with your legs thrown over his lap. Bam curled up near you like you never left.

“You’re staying the weekend, right?” he asked between bites. “Yeah, a week actually” He smiled so big before saying, “Can I update our couple playlist again?” You grinned. “Only if you don’t add Baby Shark again.” “No promises,” he smirked.

That night, as he cuddled you in bed, his arm resting around your waist, he whispered, “I’ll never break your heart again, I promise. I promise you the perfect me.” You turned around and kissed the tip of his nose. “You don’t have to promise perfection, Jungkook, just be with me through it all.” And as you drifted off in his arms, Jungkook realized something. That home wasn’t where he came from. It is here and now, home is you.

And Jungkook is no longer trapped in the place where you once left him. The minute and second of the clock are now moving again, because you’re here.

because you came back.

The End

[joonam]

pls i need ur help,

I've been working on two different BTS fanfic series with different vibes. I just learned that I really can't go back and forth between writing two very different series HAHA. So I guess I need you guys' help of which one would you guys be interested or excited to read first?

Story A:

Pairing: 2 of the bts members x reader (its a secret for now)

Genre: slice of life, coming of age, idol!au, friendship, heartwarming, love triangle, family drama, romance.

Summary: In 2010 Nonhyeondong, a y/n and her older brother live in a third-floor apartment just across the hall from three newly moved in BigHit trainees. Slowly, meal by meal, game night by game night, the hallway between them disappears. As more members move in, the apartment across the hall becomes more than just a neighbor's place, it becomes a home.

Story B:

Pairing: idol!Jungkook x reader

Genre: heartbreak, idol!au, strangers to lovers, ROMANCE.

Summary: BTS books out a quiet restaurant in Itaewon for a private dinner, owned by a longtime friend. But their peaceful night off is hilariously interrupted when a heartbroken y/n, best friend to the owner’s wife, takes over the karaoke corner with breakup anthems and zero shame. One performance turns into a full emotional concert and Jungkook is captivated. He asks for your number just curious at first. But what starts as a simple text turns into something deeper. It begins with chaotic karaoke but it just might end with a relationship.

[joonam]

hey so I literally loved 'the one' and most DEFINITELY will be reading the rest of your works. just wanted to let you know!! 🤍

ahh!! thank you!! that means so much to me! 🤍

[joonam]

ᵔᴗᵔ Joonam's Master Lists ᵔᴗᵔ

Greetings! I used to write fan fictions but it's been years and this is my first time coming back to write fan fictions. I've been writing again since the start of my uni break and I mainly write "x reader" stories and mostly just write angst and fluff or a little bit of both. Feel free to send requests, if you have any. I’m currently writing 2 series that are in progress. Oh fyi when I publish a series, its usually already finished, just waiting for a little polish before I hit publish. So while I truly appreciate the excitement and support, I prefer not to receive plot suggestions for series (not one shots).

I hope you'll enjoy my completed and upcoming works! <3

ʚ ═══･୨ one / two shots ୧･═══ ɞ

Right where you left me (Idol! Jungkook x Reader): Part 1 & Part 2 | Completed The one (Idol! Yoongi x Reader): Part 1 & Part 2 | Completed

ʚ ═══･୨ series ୧･═══ ɞ

Her (Idol! Namjoon x Reader) | Completed One song too many (Idol! Jungkook x Reader): Chapter 1 The museum stranger (Idol! Namjoon x Reader): Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

[joonam]

the one | myg

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader (f)

Genre: angst, heartbreak, regret, breakup, idol!au, missed chances, one-sided love.

Summary: Five years after the end of his relationship with you, Yoongi still lives with the what ifs and what could have beens. The 1 looks at how some heartbreaks never fully heal, some memories never fade, and how Yoongi is still learning to live without y/n, the girl he never stopped loving.

Word count: 3625

Warnings: regret, angst, sadness, emotional heartbreak. basically angst and angst and just more angst

a/n: this is my second one shot, after right where you left me. im also trying to write a more happy series instead of another sad one-shot. but writing this one took a lot, now my brain needs a break before i can start again. ANYWAY, enjoy!!

check out my: masterlist

next | part 2 >>

They say time heals everything. Yoongi thinks that’s fucking bullshit.

Because five years have passed since you walked out of his life and yet here he is, halfway through his third cup of coffee of the day, staring at an empty screen in his studio.

He doesn’t expect you to message. It’s been too fucking long. And Yoongi knows that you were never the type to reach back once you made up your mind to walk away. But some part of him still scrolls back through the old chat every week. Wondering back and forth if he should delete the chat history which he knows he would never do. It’s pathetic, actually. But Yoongi has made peace with the fact that this particular heartbreak gets to stay.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You and him were never the flashy type. There were no couple rings or accessories, none of those anniversaries with balloons and flower petals, and no instagram posts under cherry blossom trees. But the love was there and loud in a different way, in the late night takeout runs, the quiet yet loud support, the way you steal his hoodie, and the way you fall asleep to his songs still looping in your ears.

He used to write for you but never about you. He wanted to keep that part of his life with you untouched, hidden from cameras, and free from speculation of the public. Yet he knows that you eventually do come up in the songs he writes even without him meaning to.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Both of you started dating in 2013, not long after his debut. Yoongi was running on convenience store ramen, caffeine, and crippling anxiety that his group might not make it. Then you showed up with your soft spoken voice, stubborn in your own way, unimpressed by the possible glitter of his career. You didn’t care about him being in BTS. You cared if he has eaten or if he is sleeping well. You cared if he still remembers to be a human.

You showed up in the rain with tteokbokki and wrote him notes on post it notes like “sleep is also productive.” You never demanded space in his world, you simply exist there like you always belonged. And for the first time, something in Yoongi’s life felt calm like a steady light in chaos.

You never asked him to be romantic like what others on social media define what a couple should be like. You said his presence was enough and maybe that’s why he always wanted and tried to give you more and more and more. One night he tried to really cook a full meal with side dishes and soup. And he somehow burned the rice and undercooked the egg yet you still ate it. You teased him and said, “You’re a genius with music, not food. Let’s not get greedy. Stay in your lane, baby.” He laughed harder than he had in weeks and accidentally spilled his beer on the rug. You made him clean it up while holding your phone filming him like he was in some kind of cooking show gone wrong. He still has that video in a folder dedicated to you on his computer that he opens every now and then.

Your dates were convenience store runs in matching slippers at midnight. You always picked something sweet and he would get the opposite. Once, the cashier mistook you for siblings. You didn’t correct him, just held in your laughter until you were outside with your head against his shoulder.

You used to test how long he could go without saying “I love you.” Told Yoongi it’s more fun when he broke first and he always did say it first. Usually after you tripped over his oversized pants or rapped his part in a BTS song into your corn dog like it was a mic. “God, I love you so much, baby” he muttered under his breath and you smiled like you just won a trophy.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Most of the staff didn’t even know he was in a relationship and you liked it that way. “I don’t want to just be the girl Yoongi dates,” you once said, curled up next to him. “I want to be the reason you remember who Min Yoongi is, who you are.”

There were days when you didn’t talk much. You’d sprawl on the couch reading, while he worked on a song in his laptop. Sometimes you would sing off key to get his attention. When he finally gave in and asked why you were singing that way, you shrugged and said, “Because you never look up unless I break your brain a little.”

You loved the rain. One day, you stepped out from under the umbrella to tilt your head back and catch drops of rain on your tongue. “You’re gonna catch a cold,” he would say every time. And you responded with, “Not possible, I'm next to the hottest man on earth” He laughed before kissing you harder than he did on rainy sidewalks.

You fought over stupid things like who finished the last yogurt, whether he spent more time with his piano or with you. One time you threatened to write a diss track about how loud he snored. He dared you and the next morning he woke up to a Soundcloud link titled “Big Truck (feat. Yoongi’s Nose),” which Yoongi still listens to until this day, five years later.

Sometimes when the studio is too quiet and the nights too long, Yoongi lets himself pretend that you were still with him. In some other universe where timing was kinder to the both of you. In a universe where he left the meeting and held your hand tighter. Where you didn’t have to walk away just to be seen. He has no excuse but he knows it would’ve been better if you were the one.

Life would have been sweeter if he was the one for you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

We lasted five years. It wasn’t one big fight that ended the both of you. It was a thousand small cuts. Missed dinners. Cancelled trips. Yoongi choosing the studio again. And again. And again. At some point, he stopped noticing how often he was saying, “Can we do this next week?” You never threw it back at him, you just stopped waiting.

And the night you left, you didn’t cry. You just said,

I love you. But I don’t think you know what to do with it, Min Yoongi.

And you were right. It was October 2018. The tour had been relentless and Yoongi hasn’t come home in over two months. You just wrapped up a brutal week at work and you were supposed to meet him in his place, just for a weekend, just to breathe together for 48 hours. He told you he needed to cancel the plan, how something came up. A last minute meeting or a label dinner, you don’t even remember what it was now.

You sent him one last message that night:

I don’t want to resent you, so I’m leaving before I do.

And he didn’t respond. Not because he didn’t care, he just didn’t know what to say. He sat on the edge of the bed with his phone still in his hand and let you go. Like a fucking coward.

Like someone who somehow, in the worst timing possible, forgot that love isn’t something you earn once, it’s something you choose over and over again.

Min Yoongi the coward.

He didn’t choose you that night and he has been paying for it ever since. He didn’t chase after you. Not because he didn’t want to but because he felt time stop and every emotion collapsed on him, like the walls trained him too well to sit still quietly.

The next day, he went back to work like nothing happened.

Yoongi kept showing up to interviews, to rehearsals, to meetings because what else can he do? He built a life that does not allow for him to fall apart. He buried grief the only way he knows how, by making music. The world clapped for every new track he put out. And no one noticed the muse was gone, except him.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

It hit hardest in the smallest moments. When he comes home to silence instead of your laugh echoing from the bathroom. When your extra pair of chopsticks stay untouched in the drawer. When his phone buzzed at 11:32 PM and for a split second he let himself hope. But it was always someone else, not you.

He tells himself he did the right thing and how dreams demand sacrifice especially the one he was chasing. That timing was evil. But then he remembers the way you used to touch his back when he was half asleep on the couch like you were making sure he wasn’t drifting too far even in his dreams. And he wonders if a love like that comes more than once in a lifetime.

He knows now, it won’t.

It was the little things that pains him the most. You always hated socks with holes so you tossed out his old ones even if he protested and now he can’t bring himself to throw any away. He still has the hoodie you used to steal, the one you claimed didn’t smell like him anymore, but you kept wearing it anyway. He folded it neatly in the top drawer like some kind of sacred item he would never dare to touch.

Yoongi thinks it’s funny how a person can leave, but still be everywhere.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The body doesn’t forget what the mind tries to repress. If anything, it shows in every breath. Yoongi dreams about you not often but always so vividly. And it was always the same dream; you're laughing before saying, “You’re late again.”

They say healing isn’t linear process. That some days, you’ll feel okay while other days, you’ll feel like it's day one all over again. Yoongi knows that better than most, it’s been five years.

But the truth is: if wishes actually come true? It would've been you. Because you are all Yoongi wishes for.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Five years. People think it he would have been okay by now, but Yoongi still feels it. His apartment feels colder even with the heater on. The bed feels too big, sometimes, he finds himself turning the volume of his speakers up just to drown out the sound of missing you. He knows it’s ridiculous how long it's been, how little progress he has made. It turns out heartbreak doesn’t have an expiration date.

He didn’t try to replace you, he never even dreamt of it. But he kinda did try with the push of his friends. There were nights filled with faces he doesn’t remember and names he never asked for. Everyone said that’s what he needed, a rebound. But all they ever did was remind him of everything you were and everything they weren’t. None of them laughed at his dry sarcasm the way you did. None of them knew they he likes his coffee like you. None of them offered silence like it was comfort like you did.

His members noticed. Of course they did. Even Jungkook, who usually keeps his thoughts to himself, surprised him one night after dinner, “Hyung,” he said cautiously, “why don’t you just go after her?”

Yoongi didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to but because he didn’t know what scared him more: the idea that you moved on or the idea that you haven't and he wasted all this time doing nothing.

Your name never left his phone. Your texts stopped coming but he never blocked or deleted your contact. Every once in a while, he scrolls through your old chats, rereading the “good morning” messages, the blurry pictures of you holding snacks you bought for him but also for you. and the last thing you ever wrote him:

Take care of yourself, okay? It's the least you could do for me.

No matter how many years passed, Yoongi just seem to not be able to erase you and the ghost of you.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

It’s been five years since you left. Five years since you shut the door on a chapter that once feels like forever. He’s no longer the first name on your mind in the morning.

You don’t date. You don’t rush into anything or fill the space he left with someone else. You’ve learned that moving on doesn’t mean replacing and healing doesn’t always come with new love.

Some days, you think about him not with pain but with a sort of gratitude. For what you both had, what you learned in the relationship, and what you let go. Thinking about the missed dinners and cancelled trips don’t sting you anymore. They’re just part of your story like chapters in a book you once couldn’t put down but now able to read with peace.

You accepted that sometimes love isn’t enough and people grow in different directions. You don’t blame him for choosing the studio over you. You have always understood the sacrifices that came with his dream.

You fill your days with your own routines now. Found a workplace you love, friends who love you for you, and a cat that purrs next to you every night. You’ve stopped avoiding news of BTS and stopped skipping songs of theirs. When you pass places you once went together like the coffee shop, the restraurant, and the park bench, there’s no longer pain in your heart. Just a recognition to the past and a step forward. You might catch yourself singing a melody he wrote, but it doesn’t break you anymore. It reminds you of growth from who you were to who you are.

You rarely think about what might have been. You now know how live in the present. You already accepted how some love stories don’t end with forever. Some are chapters that teach you how to love yourself and that’s exactly what you have done.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The restaurant was warm and lively. You and your friends decided to have one of those “we need to get out of the house” kind of nights.

The first floor had a cozy feel. Exposed brick walls, soft lighting from the lightbulbs, and the aroma of garlic and grilled meat filling the air. Your group had claimed a corner table near the window, and the conversation flowed easily with light jokes and shared stories. You smiled, grateful for this simple moment.

Across the room, your gaze flicked around until it landed near the entrance. Your eyes caught movement, seven men stepping inside. They were immediately recognisable, especially now that they are a global group. The way they carried themselves, confident but casual with subtle smiles exchanged among them and the others who noticed them.

Before you could process what was happening, a voice broke through the sound of the restaurant. “Yoongi hyung, isn’t that Y/N?” Jungkook’s words carried a little too loudly for you and a few others around to hear.

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded slowly and your friends’ eyes followed your gaze to where BTS were standing, preparing to head upstairs. There was no sudden surge of emotion like awkwardness, instead, a calm settled over you, as if you were ready for this moment.

They acknowledged you briefly, subtle nods and soft smiles as they passed by your table on their way to the staircase leading to the rooftop.

You stood up, turned to your friends, your voice steady as you asked, “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

They gave you understanding looks, hurrying you off with smiles, and a few teasing remarks about running into an old flame.

The stairs creaked softly beneath your feet as you made your way up to the rooftop. The atmosphere up here was more private, the group gathered around a low table under strings of warm lights. The boys looked up as you approached them and you felt the weight of years missed in that moment when your eyes met Yoongi’s.

He looked older than you remembered, and tonight there was something more vulnerable in his gaze. You nodded to him softly, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between you. The air was thick with all that have been left unsaid over the years.

Yoongi’s hand tightened on the edge of the table, a subtle gesture betraying the pain under his calm exterior.

Your friends’ laughter echoed faintly from downstairs, a reminder of the world moving on, even as you stood here in front of him.

You spoke first, voice low and steady. “It’s good to see you.” He nodded slowly, “You too.”

The other boys shifted, sensing the thick air and offered you a warm smile before moving to another table nearby to let the two of you share this moment.

Yoongi studied you for a moment. There were new lines on your face, ones that came from living. You look beautiful as always. He didn’t know what he expected. maybe some signs that you were affected from the breakup? Maybe he hoped to see even a glimpse of the same pain in your eyes that he still carries in him even after five years.

“Five years,” he finally said, not as a question, but more like an observation. A statement of not believing that it really has been that long. You nodded. Yoongi’s lips twitched like he wanted to say an apology. But nothing came, so he reached for the glass in front of him, took a slow sip of water, and let the silence stretch just a little longer.

“You look well,” he said as he looked up, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” You leaned back slightly, “Neither did I,” you admitted, “But back then, I also didn’t think I was going to be able to hear your songs without feeling so much pain.” “And now?” He asked. You smiled softly looking at him, “Now I just hear someone I used to love.” Yoongi winced, but he nodded, “That’s fair.”

The silence between you two wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like it was supposed to be there just like two people sitting in the aftermath of a storm acknowledging the things its destroyed but choosing not to go through it again.

“I read our messages sometimes,” he said suddenly. “The old ones. You sent me so many pictures of snacks I never even liked.” You laughed, surprising even yourself. “You always pretended to like the snacks, though.” “I love you,” he replied, voice low, "that was why I pretended to like them.” You didn’t look away, “I know," pretending like you didn't hear the present tense in his statement.

“You ever think about” he trailed off then shook his head. “No, forget it.” You raised your eyes, “No, go on.” He looked straight at you, “You ever think about what it would’ve been like if I just left the meeting that night? If I came to you?”

You didn’t flinch, because you did think about it a million times and a million different ways, but you also know that clinging to the possibility of different decisions will never bring you peace. “I used to,” you said. “But I don’t anymore. I know now that even if you came home that night, it wouldn’t have fixed everything, the cracks were already there.”

Yoongi exhaled. “Yeah. I know.” You reached for the drink in front of you and took a sip, “But I also know we loved each other. That wasn’t an act.” “No,” he agreed quietly. “It never was.”

The boys glanced over occasionally, but didn’t dare to interfere. They understand for the both of them, it was about presence, about being here in the now. Just two people who used to belong to each other, facing the past to finally let it breathe.

Yoongi spoke again, “I think I’ll always carry you. Not in a sad way, just as part of me.” You nodded, “That’s all I ever want.” You stood up first, smoothing your shirt, “I should get back before my friends start guessing dramatic things.”

Yoongi gave you the smallest smile that screamed I'll miss you. As you turned to leave, he called your name once, softly. You turned back, “y/n, If we meet again,” he asked, “do you think we could try again?” You tilted your head. “Maybe,” you said. “But only if we both remembered to choose each other every single day.”

He nodded.

Then you walked away, the love of Yoongi's life walked away. Your footsteps light and your heart calm. You didn’t look back and Yoongi didn’t ask you to even though he did hope for you to look back. He watched you go, but for the first time in five years, he let you go not with grief nor regret, but with love.

still and always.

After you walked away from the rooftop, Yoongi remained in his seat even long after the boys returned to the table, their laughters and conversations filling the air like background noise. His mind was still focused to the sound of your voice, to the way you looked at him when you said, “Only if we both remembered to choose each other every single day.”

Yoongi sits in that moment and finally accepts the truth. You’re no longer his. And yet, he’s grateful for what you will always be to him. For a kind of love that never demanded more, yet gave him everything.

Maybe, in another life, you would’ve been the one. But in this one, Yoongi has to learn to be whole without you, the one for him.

[joonam]

Jungkook tries hard to earn her trust back!!

on it~ ill try to post it on the weekend since ill be posting a different one shot tomorrow (hint: its also sad if ure into that HAHA).

[joonam]

Can we get a second part?

hii! thank you so much for reading Right Where You Left Me! I’d love to know what kind of chapter you would like to see. Would you want something where jungkook tries hard to gain the trust back or are you more interested in something more angsty? I'm v open to other ideas than what I have in mind :)

[joonam]

right where you left me | jjk

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Reader (f)

Genre: exes to lovers, angst, fluff, slow burn, reunion, regret, idol!au, heartbreak, second chances, past infidelity, romance.

Summary: A story about the one mistake that changed everything in Jungkook's life. After a drunken kiss with another idol ends his three-year relationship, Jungkook confessed his mistake to you immediately. But you, carrying a history of being cheated on, walks away without looking back. Right Where You Left Me explores the pain of heartbreak and Jungkook's guilt of knowing he was the one to cause it.

Word count: 7360

Warnings: cheating, emotional devastation, breakup, alcohol use, regret, unresolved feelings, angst, sadness.

a/n: this is my first one shot and its inspired by the song right where you left me by taylor swift. Just hoping it's not cRINGE. im also OPEN for requests!! and I have another one shot coming your way on Friday ^^ check out my: masterlist

next | part 2 >>

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Jungkook told himself he could forget which was a lie that felt bitter the moment it passed his lips every time someone asked him how he was doing. Every time the stage lights shine on him, he became BTS’s Jungkook, the golden maknae. He sang lines of songs, able to hit every single high note, smiled when the cameras capture him, and made jokes now and then during interviews. It was muscle memory at this point as it's been a few years since BTS debuted.

But in the seconds between lyrics, in the gaps between the texts he read on the prompter machine, and the emptiness after the applause, he always remembered you.

The kiss did not mean anything. That was what made it so unforgivable, at least Jungkook thought. There was a little too much alcohol involved. And before he knew it, a mistake in the form of his lips pressing into someone else's was already unfolding. He confessed the morning after. Before the guilt started to rot his insides. You were silent at first, before you looked at him like you didn’t know the person who was standing in front of you. Like he wasn’t the man who rubbed your back during period cramps or memorised your favourite songs or kept a picture of your sleeping face in the notes app on his phone like a secret admirer.

You didn’t cry, not when he was still standing in front of you. You just asked him one simple question, “Did you mean it?” “No,” his voice shaking. “I was drunk. she didn’t mean anything, baby, I swear to you.” You nodded, just once, enough for your feelings to be understood by the stranger in front of you. And then, you did the one thing he was not prepared for. You left.

And that was eleven months ago. He still hasn't moved from that moment.

The room was filled with noise. “Hyung, the setlist looks good, but I think we should swap Run and Boy with love.” Jungkook blinked. Taehyung was talking. Jimin was sitting with his legs up on the couch beside him. Namjoon staring into the monitor which showed their setlist on it. Life was happening around him. Jungkook was there with them. He was always there physically, at least.

“Jungkook-ah,” Seokjin said gently, snapping his fingers near his face. “You with us?” He nodedd. “Yeah. Just thinking about, uh, the bridge for Zero O’clock. I might want to switch it up a little bit. It could sound cleaner.” It wasn’t true, He never thought about the song even once.

But they nodded. They let it go as they always did. Because they knew you left him.

Yoongi was the only one who said it out loud. “You look like hell,” he said two weeks after the breakup, watching Jungkook stare blankly at his phone screen. “You need to eat, to sleep, to write about her or scream about her or get in your car and go fucking beg, you need to stop bleeding in silence, Jungkook.”

He didnt replied. What was there to say? Yoongi wasn’t wrong. He was hurting, just not in ways anyone could see.

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Sometimes the flashbacks hit him like a tsunami. A laugh from across the street, the smell of a cherry shampoo, and the streamer streaming a Valorant match. The brain never forgets happiness, his brain never forgets you. 

He remembered the way you screamed mid-match, throwing your headset off because some kid sniped you again in mid. Jungkook laughed, “No, no, baby, you can’t just rush mid with a classic and no shield” “Sage is supposed to heal, not get jumped!” you argued, pointing at him dramatically. He leaned in then, kissed your forehead. “Well, maybe Sage shouldn’t push like a duelist.”

The quiet after the game ended had been his favourite time just right when your energy drained but your hearts were full. “Stay over,” you whispered, already knowing he would.

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Jungkook walked home in the rain some night not long after the breakup. Refused to get into the black van or the umbrella the staff offered him. He wanted to let the water soak his hoodie. It was somehow easier to let something outside him match what was happening inside. The streets were blurred and lights smudged through his wet lashes.

He passed by the bench you once waited for him on with your hands stuffed in your pockets and your lips pouting because he was late for a dinner date. He passed the cafe that still plays the same indie playlist you used to sing along to. And then he passed the bookstore. He stopped when he realised it was still open. He stepped inside and the clerk didn’t notice him somehow even with his black hoodie up, mask on, and soaked clothes dripping water across the tile.

He went straight to the poetry section or your section as you called it. She used to read this one, he thought. And this one. And the one at the end of the bookshelf. And this was the one she said reminded her of me. He plucked a random book off the shelf and opened it to a random page, something you would do believing that whatever is on the page is the universe speaking to you.

" If our love died young, I can't bear witness and it's been so long, but if you ever think you got it wrong I'm right where you left me." – Taylor Swift.

He closed the book and left the bookstore without buying anything.

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The thing about loving someone who has similar interests was that they are in everything you do.

He couldn’t even ride his motorcycle anymore. Not without remembering your arms wrapped around his waist and your voice in his ear through the helmet, screaming “Drive fast but not reckless, Jeon Jungkook. I like you alive!” “You’re scared?” “Yes?," you said like your grip around his waist wasn't strong enough to express your fears. "I like your pretty face attached to your body, Kookie.” He laughed then revved the engine just to tease you. “You like my body?” he said, followed by a smack on his shoulder. “Shut up and drive safely.” He did. But now he can’t even ride without wondering who you wrap your arms around.

He used to help his hyungs write love songs with you in mind and now he just can't write at all. You were the anchor and now he was just a lost ship at sea without direction. He didn’t blame you, not for a second. You told him about the boys before him, the liars and manipulators. And he had promised you to be different. He was different until that one night. That one fucking mistake he made and you were gone.

He wondered if you ever think of him. If you were okay. If you still sleep with his hoodie. If you ever played “Euphoria” when he was on tour and skip it halfway through because you missed him too much. If you ever whispered, “I miss you,” into the plushie he bought you like it could reach him somehow. Because he whispered it every night. He said it into the quiet of his apartment, “I miss you.” But you never answered because you were gone. And Jungkook was still right there. Right there where you left him.

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He found your bobby pin under his couch 5 months after. Jungkook froze when he saw it. His fingers shaking as he picked it up, turning it over in his palm like it might break from how long it has been waiting there. You always left them everywhere in his apartment. The bathroom sink, the kitchen counter, tangled in his sheets, and somehow he found it once stuck in Bam’s fur.

He sat on the floor for twenty minutes with that bobby pin resting between his fingers. He couldn't bring himself to throw it away.

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The last time he saw you laugh was in the hallway of your apartment. You were wearing his oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks even though it was still summer. He had just beat you for the third time in a row on Mario Party and you looked like you were about to cry. “I’m throwing this game away” you said pointing at him. “No more using items. It's basically cheating. Next time, we’re playing F1.”

He grinned. “You can’t throw away my game.” “I can and I will.” “Baby, why would you want to play F1 anyway? you can’t even play without hitting the walls.” “You’re so dead,” you chased him down the hallway with a pillow. Bam barked, wagging his tail, excited by the chaos in your apartment. Jungkook had caught you mid-laugh and tackled you onto the couch, holding your face between his hands like you were something delicate.

“God, I love you,” he whispered into the skin just below your ear. “So fucking much.”

You’d gone quiet then, eyes wide and soft, “I love you too,” you whispered back. “Even when you cheat on Mario Party by using shitass items.”

He should’ve known that kind of happiness doesn’t last forever.

The apartment was quiet now, there was no sound of your footsteps, no sound of your singing voice from the shower, and no random “emo 2000s songs” Spotify playlist you made just to annoy him playing in the background.

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His therapist told him grief doesn’t always come in clean stages and that losing someone who is still alive is a different kind of hell but he didn’t need a paid session to tell him that. He’s aware of it as he lived it daily. On the outside, he was still Jungkook. But on the inside, he was standing still in that morning, he never left.

He showed up at your doorstep unannounced the next morning after the mistake. No call or text to inform you of his visit. Just his shaking fingers hovering over your doorbell. It was early for visitors, even for you who wakes up at 7 AM. His stomach twisted as he rang the bell. You opened the door still in your pyjamas and messy hair and uou smiled the second you saw him.

“Hey baby,” you said. “You’re so early,” you said followed by a yawn. He didn’t answer right away. You tilted your head, stepping aside so he could come in. “Kookie?” He stepped inside, passing you as if he was a ghost, like his body was moving ahead of his soul. The door shut behind you both. You followed him into the living room where everything smelled like you, a faint cherry smell from that shampoo you love so much.

He didn’t sit, he was just standing there in your living room with his fists clenched and jaw tight. “I need to tell you something,” he said, barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

He looked at you like he knew it would be the last time. “I kissed someone,” he said. You blinked then laughed before answering “What?” His throat burned. “Last night. At the afterparty. I was drunk and, she leaned in and and I didn’t stop it before it happened.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. You didn’t yell or cry, you just stood still. He reached for you instinctively. “It didn’t mean anything, I swear,” You stepped back and that hurt him more than any slap could have. Your voice was hoarse. "Did you mean it?” “No,” his voice shaking, "I love you, baby. I was drunk she didn’t mean anything, baby, I swear to you." Tears built up in your eyes but none fell as you nodded slowly and said, “You should go.”

Jungkook froze. “Y/N—”

“Please,” he could hear the sound of his heart breaking, “I don’t want to lose you.”

You didn’t say anything and just like that you were gone.

He didn’t cry on the way back to his car. He didn’t cry as he sat in the driver’s seat, driving for hours with no destination. But when he came home. And he saw the hoodie you always wore tossed over his couch, the blanket you curled up with during movie marathons, that’s when it hit him. That’s when he dropped to the floor. That was the moment Jeon Jungkook broke. Grief didn’t knock, it barged in itself into his body. And his mind kept going back to before he ruined everything, before one drunken kiss destroyed his whole world.

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It was a Thursday night. Rain tapping gently against the dorm windows. You were sitting cross-legged on the floor of BTS's apartment living room with an oversized hoodie swallowing you whole, his hoodie, of course. A controller in your hand, you were determined to pass this level of It Takes Two.

“Left! Go left!” Jungkook shouted, “I am going left!” “You’re going into a wall—” Taehyung laughed from the couch behind you, “You two are a disaster.” “Shut up!” you both said in unison.

You dropped the controller with a dramatic groan after not being able to clear the same level for the 4th time, “This game is actually fucking toxic.” “You just suck,” Jungkook teased, your elbow jabbed his side, “Says the guy who fell off the map twice.” “That was lag!” he insisted. “You saw the lag!” You reached over, grabbed his face and squishing his cheeks with both hands. “My poor little laggy baby.” Jungkook melted instantly. God, your smile lit up the whole damn room.

He remembered Taehyung sliding you a bowl of popcorn without a word. Jin pulling out the stool at the counter so you could sit beside him while he cooked. Yoongi casually handing you his phone, letting you pick the next song for the speaker. Hoseok making you learn a TikTok dance with him. Namjoon quietly pouring you a glass of hot matcha he made. Jimin asking you to sit next to him during movie nights.

You were also family to his hyungs, not because of him but despite him.

And at night, when the others drifted off to sleep, you were cuddling with Jungkook on the couch. The Switch and PlayStation controllers scattered around the living room. The hot coffee turning cold. He remembered looking at you and thinking; this is it, this is what forever feels like.

He already memorised the way your fingers play with the drawstrings of his hoodie. How your hair smelled like cherry shampoo. And the way your eyes move when you were trying not to fall asleep mid conversation.

And now your silence was louder than the goodbye, the hoodie you wore, untouched. and his world, colder. He had all these memories but you weren’t there to reminisce it together with him.

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Nine Months after the breakup, Jungkook wasn’t expecting the knock on his bedroom door, especially not at 1:34 AM. Not that he was expecting anyone during the day.

Namjoon didn’t say anything right away. He stepped inside shutting the door behind him and leaned his shoulder against the frame. “Hyung?” Jungkook blinked, pulling his earphones off. Namjoon sighed. “I got a message from Y/N.” His heart didn’t race, it stopped.

Namjoon stepped closer, “She reached out to me this morning saying she didn’t know who else to talk to.” “What did she say?” Jungkook asked like he was in a hurry.

Namjoon hesitated, “She said she doesn’t regret walking away. But that some nights, she regrets not waiting longer. Not trying harder.” He met Jungkook’s eyes then, “She said it still hurts and that she has tried to move on, but nothing feels like," he paused, “Like you two.”

“She’s not coming back,” Namjoon added carefully not to raise his younger brother's hope up. “That’s not why she reached out. She just wanted to say it to someone who knew you both. She said she still listens to the playlist you made her,” Namjoon added. “Even the dumb meme songs like baby shark you slipped in between the love songs.”

Jungkook released a quiet broken laugh. “She remembers everything, Jungkook. And she said she’s not angry anymore. Just tired.”

He didn’t speak and didn’t trust himself to. Namjoon sat beside him, “I told her that I would tell you, because I knew you would want to hear it even if it doesn’t change anything.” Jungkook nodded once then again and again, just slower. Because it didn’t change anything but somehow, it still meant everything.

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They were sitting on his bike, parked under the Han River bridge with their helmets off with midnight wind blowing in their faces. You were behind him, arms wrapped tight around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. “You ever wonder how long this can last?” you asked quietly, eyes on the stars. He didn’t hesitate, “Forever, duh” before turning around to press his lips against yours.

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The first four months after you left wasn't just silence, there was a war fought with his own fingers typing messages he didn’t want to send but couldn’t stop himself from sending. Every night, when the dorm was quiet and the hyungs were sound asleep, Jungkook’s fingers were tapping all over his phone.

“Please, Y/N, just hear me out.” “It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything.” “I was drunk. I was stupid. I’m so sorry.” “I miss you. I miss us.” “Please don’t shut me out.”

He sent message after message. It wasn't double texting, at a certain point it was just him spamming. some long, some short, some just a single word: “sorry.”

Most times, the messages were unread. But one night, he typed the worst message he immediately regretted sending: “It was just a kiss, not like I fucked her.” He wanted to take it back, but it was already too late.

Your reply came fast. Too fast for him to unsend the message he just sent. Full of rage, you replied:

“How dare you say that to me, Jeon Jungkook. You think this is about sex? It’s about trust. About respect. About me. You broke us. You broke me. I don’t want your excuses or your lies.”

He stared at the screen, hands trembling that message wasn’t just an angry reply, it was a final blow.

After that messaged, your name didn’t appear in his chat list anymore. You blocked him. It was a goodbye he never wanted to hear but knew he deserved.

“I fucked up,” he whispered to the empty room. “I fucked up everything.”

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The night of the mistake started as something else, before turning into the taste of alcohol on his tongue, and adrenaline running through his veins. He doesn't usually drink at events like this. But that night he did. Surrounded by his friends from other K-pop groups, it was hard not to be socially pressured. One glass. Then two. Then three. Then someone from another group handed him a fourth glass.

That was mistake number one.

Mistake number two had red lips and a laugh that was annoyingly loud. She leaned in close when she spoke with a drink in her hand. She told him he looked too serious for someone who just won multiple awards. He didn’t kiss her because he wanted to. He kissed her because he was drunk, and she was annoying him. So when she leaned in, and put her lips against him, he thought it would at least shut her up. Just one second. One blurred second. He pulled away almost instantly, panic setting all over him.

And then a hand landed on his shoulder. “Come on,” Jimin muttered. Hoseok appeared beside them within seconds, his jaw clenched. Namjoon came next, eyes already burning with anger and disappointment. Even drunk, Jungkook could read his hyungs gestures easily. The air shifted around him and his hyungs. It wasn’t a party anymore, it was damage control. There was no shouting nor chaos, just three brothers surrounding their youngest and leading him out like a silent storm.

Back at the hotel suite, the silence was too loud. Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, his hands covering his face. “I need to tell her,” he whispered. No one answered right away.

Seokjin was the first to speak, “Do you even remember how it happened?” “I didn’t want it,” Jungkook whisper. “She leaned in.” Yoongi exhaled slowly, “but you didn’t stop it.” Jungkook nodded, shame burning deep in his stomach. “No, I didn’t.”

Namjoon sat down across from him, elbows on his knees, eyes locked onto Jungkook’s. “You know what this means, right?” “I do.” But Namjoon wasn’t done. “It’s not just that you made a mistake,” he said. “It’s who you hurt.” Jimin crossed his arms. “She’s not just your girlfriend, Jungkook. She’s our friend too” Seokjin followed Jimin's words with “You hurt someone we also love.” The words hitting Jungkook harder than any punch could. “I know,” he whispered, “I know. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi leaned against the wall, arms folded, looking more tired than angry. “You don’t owe us the apology.” “I know.” He clenched his fists, “I’m going to tell her everything.” Taehyung sighed, “You better do it before she hears it from one of us, or worse someone else from the party.”

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His family still thinks of you, of course, they loved you. “Is Y/N coming to dinner next time?” his mother would ask quietly over the phone, as if hoping Jungkook might say yes. While his father, when they visited, would glance at him sideways and say, “You seem quieter these days, everything okay with Y/N?”

Jungkook always froze. He never knew what to say. Because part of him wanted to tell them everything but another part of him was too ashamed and too scared to admit how badly he lost the one person who made his world full of different shades of colours.

Not until 4 months later, they found out about the breakup. His brother pulled Jungkook aside while their parents weren’t looking, “I know you guys broke up.” Jungkook blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “How do you know?” he asked. His brother sighed, “It’s in your eyes and I see you sometimes looking at your phone like you’re waiting for a message that you know would never come.” Jungkook wanted to deny it to protect himself with pride. But it was true. And for once, he let the tears fall in front of his brother because the family who loves him also loves you and they knew what losing you meant to him.

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One year after the breakup, Jungkook never planned on coming to this particular cat cafe in Japan, but somehow, when his schedule gave him a free morning, his feet carried him here without much thought. The cozy cat cafe was tucked away on a quiet street of Tokyo. He stopped in front of the store hesitating for a few seconds before stepping inside. The scent of jasmine tea mixed with the smell of cats shampoo filled the air instantly. The sounds of conversation and the quiet purring of cats created an atmosphere so unlike the city outside. For a fleeting moment, Jungkook allowed himself to breathe in deeply and relax.

And then he saw you.

You were sitting near the window, your attention completely absorbed by a fluffy grey cat that snuggle into your lap without hesitation. You didn’t notice him at first as you were lost in the calm world you created as your fingers brush the grey cat’s fur.

Jungkook froze. His heart pounded with each beat loud enough to drown the soft meows and chatters in the cafe. Seeing you here, in this unexpected place, far away from home felt like the universe planned this all out just for him, for the both of you.

You looked up slowly, and the moment your eyes met, Jungkook’s breath caught. There was recognition there, yes, but also a weariness he has never seen before. Your smile seemed cautious, as if you were unsure whether to welcome him or run away.

Jungkook swallowed hard, trying to push down the emotions waiting to be freed. He took a step forward, the soles of his shoes barely making a sound on the wooden floor. “Y/N,” he said, his voice low and heavy with everything he hadn’t been able to say for so long. You blinked, the faintest tremble in your lips betraying your calm exterior. “Jungkook,” you replied quietly, almost like a question.

Cats gathered themselves around his feet and another leapt onto your lap, but neither of you moved. It was as if the world had pressed a pause button waiting for one of you to speak first before pressing play. He wanted to ask so many things like starting of wit the easiest being how you were doing. Instead, he watched you closely, you looked beautiful yet tired and it tore something deep inside him. The vibrant girl who used to brighten every room he was in seemed like a distant memory now and he knew he played a part on it.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. You smiled again, a little more genuinely this time, but with a sadness that made his chest ache. “Neither did I.”

For a moment, words felt unnecessary. The soft purring and the warmth of the cats filled the space between you, comforting yet cruel all at once. He remembered how much you love cats and the way you would light up at the sight of a stray kitten and begging him to adopt it.

“I think about you every day,” he admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of truth. “More than I ever thought possible. I never stopped.” Jungkook stepped a bit closer, careful not to invade your space but desperate to close the distance. “I kept hoping that maybe one day, we could try again. Maybe I could fix what I broke.”

You shook your head gently, a bittersweet smile touching your lips, “Maybe. But not today.” His heart clenched painfully, but he nodded. “I get it. I don’t want to pressure you.”

He searched your face one last time, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For everything.” Your eyes softened, tears threatening to spill but you held it back, “Me too.”

Just as Jungkook turned to leave, he paused. He wasn’t ready. He knew if he leaves now, he might not see you ever again. He turned back around slowly. “One more chance,” he said, voice low but steady. You blinked, the grey cat in your lap stirred but didn’t leave. “Jungkook” “y/n, I’m not asking for everything back right away,” he said quickly like he was in such a hurry. “I know I don’t deserve it. And I know I’m the reason you left. But if there’s even a part of you that still wonders what it would be like if we tried again,” He stepped closer, “Then let me in just enough for a second chance.”

“I don’t know if that would be good for us,” you finally said, “I live here now.” Jungkook’s throat tightened. “Here?” he asked, You nodded. “I moved a few months ago. Got a job here. I’m working as a graphic designer now, well, technically senior designer,” you added with a small shrug. “It was a promotion. I couldn’t say no.”

A soft smile broke across Jungkook’s face, he felt warmth despite the pain in his chest. “That’s amazing,” he said sincerely. genuinely. “You’ve always been so good at what you do. I’m proud of you.”

You looked down for a moment, caught off guard by the genuine praise. You didn't expect him to react like that, not with pride nor the affection within his words. He took a deep breath, “We can make it work,” he said quietly still giving it a shot. “I’d fly out or move some things around. Hell, I’d move here if it came to that.”

You met his eyes again, and for the briefest second, hope sparked between you. “I don’t know if it’s that simple,” you said, “We’re not the same people anymore.” Jungkook nodded slowly, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t want us to be the same. I want to see if who we are now might still belong to each other.”

“I’m not asking for your answer right now,” he said gently. “But just don’t close the door completely on me.” You didn’t respond for a while, fingers absently stroking the soft grey fur under your hand. “I won’t,” you whispered. It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t even a yes. But to Jungkook, it was enough. He gave you one last look and gently pushed open the cafe door. The breeze hit him softly as he stepped outside and for the first time in a long, long time, the weight in his chest and shoulders felt just a little lighter.

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Namjoon was in his hotel room, music playing through a Bluetooth speaker while he flipped through the worn pages of an art magazine. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the screen, looking at the notification with your name in it.

“Hi, Namjoon, I hope it’s okay to message you like this. I know BTS is in Japan right now as I ran into Jungkook today. I didn’t plan this nor did he. But I guess the universe did. He approached me. We talked a little, not long. But before he left, he asked if I could give him another chance. I told him I don’t know. I wanted to say yes. God, I wanted to. But I’m scared. I live here now. I got promoted and moved to Tokyo a couple of months ago. It’s a fresh start. And I thought I was doing okay. But seeing him today messed me up.”

Namjoon set the phone down for a second. He could still remember the first time you came over to the apartment, awkward and quiet, standing just behind Jungkook as the others gathered around, eager to learn about you. How you gradually turn into someone they all loved. You had a soft presence yet always there to make them feel less lonely among the chaos of their lives. And when you left, he saw how Jungkook changed like his world had been taken apart brick by brick. Namjoon picked up his phone again.

“Y/N, It’s okay. I’m glad you messaged me. I hope you’re doing well. I won’t pretend to know what’s best for you. You have every right to be scared. You gave so much to him and what happened broke you. I saw that. I remember how small you looked when we helped you pack the stuff you had at our apartment. How Jimin had to step out of the room because he couldn’t handle seeing you cry. But I also need you to know that Jungkook was never the same after you left. Not even close. We dragged him out for drinks, tried to make him laugh, made up excuses to distract him. Nothing worked. He showed up to everything, practices, shoots, and interviews. There were days he’d stare at his phone for hours”

Namjoon sighed and leaned back against the bed frame.

“He never blamed you. He said it every time we brought it up. I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. I just think you should know that he’s not asking lightly. He wouldn’t talk to you if he wasn’t willing to fight for you back. I just want you to know he’s not the same guy who made that mistake. He’s been paying for it every damn day since.”

Namjoon stared at the message for a few more seconds, then sent it. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe something lost could still find its way back. Namjoon didn’t expect a reply so soon, but it came.

“I’m crying, I thought I was over him.”

He sat up straighter, heart aching at the simplicity of it. He exhaled slowly. You were never dramatic, you had always loved quietly, but you hurt the same way too. Another message popped up.

“I think I buried the pain. I told myself I forgave him so I could breathe again. But I didn’t. I just locked it away somewhere.”

Namjoon leaned forward, typing:

“Forgiveness isn’t a light switch, Y/N. It doesn’t just flip. It’s a process, you know that.”

There was a pause. Then you replied again.

“He told me we could make it work. That he’d try. But I can’t stop wondering if the same thing will happen again. What if I trust him and he lets me down like that all over again? I won’t survive it twice.”

He let that sink in and did not respond right away.

“He knows that. He knows he won’t get another chance if he breaks you again. And I really, truly believe he never will. Not because he’s somehow perfect now. But because he learned. He lived in the absence of your love and it destroyed him.”

Another pause. Then Namjoon added, slower this time:

“I’m not telling you what to do. I just think you shouldn’t make your decision based on fear. Not when you have so much love still inside you.”

He waited. You took your time this time. Maybe you were rereading. Maybe you were pacing around your tiny Tokyo apartment. But your next message appeared:

“I just don’t want to be a fool again.”

Namjoon smiled softly. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, and then:

“You weren’t a fool the first time. You loved him. And he failed you. If you choose to try again, it won’t be foolish either. It’ll just be brave. Because choosing love after loss? That’s one of the bravest things anyone can do.”

There was no reply after that. But Namjoon didn’t need one. He had a feeling you were staring out your window and somewhere in Tokyo, Jungkook was probably doing the same thing.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

They were set to leave Tokyo in two days. But Jungkook's mind was still stuck in a cat cafe in Tokyo. He was not expecting to run into you especially not in another country. He didn’t know what the meeting meant, whether it was closure or a chapter closing or maybe another chance.

Jungkook sat quietly with the others that night. He sipped his beer, nodded along, and even laughed at one of Jimin’s dramatic reenactments of a random fan interaction.

No one expected the knock at the door, it came suddenly. Namjoon stood up almost immediately. He didn’t say anything just moved toward the door calmly. Jungkook barely noticed as his back was towards the door. He was watching Hoseok trying to balance two grapes on top of his water bottle cap.

But then, the air in the room shifted. The room didn’t fall silent, it was more of a pause. Taehyung’s hand froze mid air with his fingers still holding a piece of popcorn he never tossed into his mouth.

Jimin’s posture straightened. His shoulders that was once loose against the couch cushions suddenly tensed up. His lips parted just slightly, eyes flickering toward the door, but he didn’t say a word.

Yoongi looked up from his phone with an unreadable expression. His eyes flicked between Namjoon, then the door, then away again like he already knew what this was about.

Hoseok stopped laughing. His smile didn’t drop, not exactly, it just softened. Like the warmth had drained out of the moment and he didn’t know how to get it back yet.

Jin stopped clicking the remote trying to find a tv station worthy to watch. The remote now rested on his lap. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stared at the door with a serious look.

Jungkook turned his head to the door, just right after you walked in. And he was frozen in place. You weren't looking at him yet as you offered a nervous greeting towards the group, “Hi.”

Namjoon stood beside you and gave a small nod to the room. “She’s here to see Jungkook.”

Your eyes finally met his. “You came,” he said. The room didn’t fully settle even after she arrived. Namjoon offered her a small, supportive smile before ushering the rest of the members towards the hotel suite next door. No one resisted. Taehyung gave Jungkook a quick glance that said: Don’t mess this up.

Then, it was just the two of them. The door clicked softly shut behind the others.

Jungkook stared at you, heart pounding against his chest like it was trying to escape. He didn’t know what to do first. Should he apologize again? Ask if he could hold you? Should he fall to his knees?

"I’m here," you said, your voice almost a whisper. "But I don’t know if I should be." You moved toward the couch, hesitating only briefly before sitting. Jungkook followed, carefully taking the spot next to you, but not too close. He didn’t dare touch you. unless you let him.

“I thought I was over you,” you said, your eyes fixated on your hands. “I just started over with a completely new routine in Japan. But then I saw you and I just,” your voice broke, "I missed you," you whispered. "even when I hated you.”

“I never stopped missing you,” Jungkook said with trembling voice. “Even when you were gone, even when I knew I deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve any of what I put you through," he said with tears forming in his eyes.

“I spent the last year trying to forget how it feels to be with you,” you said, more to yourself than him. “To believe you’d never do what they did to me. And then you did.” Then softly, you said, “This is your last chance, Jungkook.”

“If I’m going to try,” you continued, “it’s only once. I won’t survive a second heartbreak from you. I barely survived the first.”

“I won’t ask you to trust me yet,” he said. “But I’m going to earn it. Every single day. However long it takes.” Jungkook let out a shaky breath, like he’d been underwater for a year and finally surfaced. You just nodded, before eventually telling him, "Okay."

He reached out slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. His fingers hovered near your cheek and when you didn’t flinch, when you tilted your head just enough to lean into his touch, he let his hand rest against your cheek. “You can kiss me,” you said.

His lips met yours, soft at first and then deeper like he just came back home after decades of being lost in a maze.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The reunion with Jungkook’s older brothers didn’t happen all at once instead it unfolded slowly. The morning after you came to the hotel, you were still there. Jungkook hadn’t slept the whole night too afraid that you would vanish if he closed his eyes. But when he opened them and saw you curled up on the other side of the bed, he finally let himself breathe.

Namjoon was the first to knock. He came in with coffee, one for Jungkook and one he handed to you without a word, just a soft smile. “You still take it black, right?” he asked gently. You blinked in surprise, nodding. “Yeah, I do.”

Jungkook watched the way you relaxed under Namjoon’s quiet presence. “Thought so,” Namjoon said, settling into the armchair in their room. “I remembered from that one night you beat all of us in poker and claimed your prize as ‘coffee made by Namjoon for a week.’” You let out a soft laugh. “I forgot about that.” “I didn’t,” Namjoon grinned. “My ego still hasn’t recovered.”

Later that day, they were all in the lounge as their schedules were cleared for the day. Jin was the next one to approach. He didn’t say much, just offered you a plate of food and sat beside you like no time had passed. “You still hate carrots, right?” he said, nudging his chopsticks toward yours. “I took them out for you.” Your lips parted slightly in surprise. “You remembered?” “Of course,” Jin said simply. “I cooked for you and Jungkook a hundred times. I don’t forget stuff like that.”

Later, Yoongi joined you on the couch. He didn’t make a show of it. Just sat down beside you, cracked open the Nintendo Switch case, and handed you a controller. “Wanna play something?” he mumbled. “Overcooked?” you asked. “You used to be so obsessed with this game.” “I still am,” you said smiling. “I wonder if you still fall off the damn platform,” Yoongi gave her a look. “That was one time.”

Jungkook watched from the kitchen pretending to scroll through his phone, heart racing at the sound of your laughter. He haven't heard it in so long, especially not from something as simple as yelling at Yoongi for burning the digital soup. The two of them shouted instructions like no time had passed. You were still awful at chopping in game and Yoongi still yelled dramatically whenever they missed a ticket.

Hoseok was a bit different. He didn’t come straight to you. There had been a time you were his unofficial TikTok dance partner, even if you stated to him so many damn times that you have no rhythm. At all. Your departure hit him harder than he let on. Eventually, you stood up and approached him. “Hi, Hoseok” He turned, eyes softening as he looked at you. “I’ve missed you,” you said honestly and that was all it took before he pulled you into a hug and whispered, “I’m so so glad that you’re back.”

Then came Jimin. He walked up to you with gentle steps and even gentler eyes. You had once described him as the emotional compass of the group. “You okay?” he asked softly. You nodded, “Yeah. I think so.” “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again,” Jimin said, before continuing, “I wanted to reach out a hundred times. I didn’t know if I had the right.” “You always did,” you murmured, voice breaking slightly. He sat down beside you, “I was so angry at him,” Jimin admitted. “Not because he made a mistake, but because I knew how much you mattered. You still matter.” Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I’m trying,” you whispered. “I know,” he said. “And he is too.”

Taehyung was the last one. He had been quiet most of the day, watching from across the room. He didn't speak to Jungkook about it, but the others knew Taehyung was the most heartbroken on your behalf. He adores you like a sister. He brought you Polaroids he took on tour, saved you his favourite snacks, and sided with you when Jungkook playfully bullied you. It wasn’t until night time that he came up to you on the balcony. You were leaning on the railing, sipping tea Jungkook had made for you earlier. “Still pretending you like tea with honey so he would feel good about himself?” Taehyung asked, his voice teasing but warm. You turned and smiled. “Some things never change.” Taehyung stepped beside you, "You really back? or is this temporary?” “I don’t know yet,” you answered honestly. “But I’m trying.” He nodded, “He’s different, you know. Not in a bad way, just different.” “I know.”

“We missed you, I missed you, Y/N. But he lost you," Taehyung said.

When you went back inside, Jungkook looked up instantly. “Everything okay?” he asked. You nodded, “Yep, just had a chat with Tae.” He reached out, brushing your fingers with his. “You don’t have to talk to everyone all at once.” “I want to,” you said softly, "they’re your family, but they were mine, too.”

“They still are,” he said.

And slowly, the space around you and Jungkook began to feel like home again.