#bts seokjin

[ourcean]

ᜊ seokjin ꒰ bangtan ꒱ lockscreens

like or reblog if u save and use please / curta ou reblogue se você salvar ou usar, por favor 𖹭

[gldrushh]

GUILTY AS SIN | JK

"You are stuck in time, and Jungkook doesn't stop running from it until he eventually does, and you learn that grief doesn’t wait for death, that love isn't all that dignifying."

→ Pairing brother in law!Jungkook × widowed fem!reader

→ Genre forbidden love! au, childhood friends to lovers, angst, smut

→ W.C 17. 32k

→ Warnings unrequited love :(, oc is in love with his older brother, early character death of the said older brother who is haunting the narrative, cute childhood sweethearts who are doomed by me, mentions of dealing with grief and acceptance, mention of cancer, a minor scene where harassment is attempted,emotionally troubled! oc, emotionally troubled and detached! jk, simp jk, pathetic man in love, he's so so lovesick, ceo! jk, protective jk, yearning, pining, loads of angst, fluff if you squint, breif yoongi mention, namjin yay!!,rich people party, mentions of anxiety,sexual tension,slow burnish,smut (omg everyone look away), kissing, unprotected sex (raw and deep, next question),dirty talking, oc is insecure,hickies,oral (f! Receiving), he cums in his pants,big dick jk, soft Dom Jungkook, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, praise, cuddles if you squint again

→ Playlist Guilty as sin, control, killing me softly with his song, do I wanna know?

→ A/N the idea of this one shot came to me at 1 am when I was supposed to be studying for a test that probably my future depends upon and after much much complementing I'm finally posting it. To me, its very experimental and I was just trying to explore my writing style and writing things that I haven't before, like smut 🫠 so please please bear that in mind!! I hope you enjoy reading and if you did please comment!! It makes my whole day 🥰💕💕

P.S: cross posted on wattpad.

It is a believed fact that it takes three to four short months to fall in love. 

For you, it took one summer. The summer spent watching him sketch galaxies in the dirt with a twig, summer spent learning the way his laughter sounded after stealing popsicles from the freezer, summer spent holding his hand as they made paper planes under the blazing sun. It was the kind of love that grew roots so deep, you couldn’t separate where he ended and you began.

That summer, you met Minho. The boy next door with a mind as wild as his curls and a heart so warm it seemed to shine blindingly bright. He showed you how to climb trees, told stories he'd crafted all by himself, convincing you that the universe could be held in the palm of your hand. He shared his world with you, and you fell in love with it.

You kissed his cheek on the porch of your house one late July evening, bold and brimming with the kind of confidence only childhood summers could bring. “Now you’re gonna have to marry me, Min Min,” you teased, hands behind your back, your toes curling against the wooden floorboards.

He blushed, a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, but his grin mirrored yours.

The porch of your house was a witness to many things. Your first steps, held your first scraped knees, your first dog and Minho's new brother; your new friend.

A boy of your age, younger than Minho had appeared from right behind him, his hands clutching onto Minho's flannel, his watchful eyes going everywhere all at once. The kind of boy who never spoke unless he had to, the kind who was more familiar with loss than comfort, lingering on the edges of things, unsure if he belonged.

Jungkook.

Now, Jeon Jungkook.

You and his brother had taken it upon themselves to bring him into your fold, turning your duo into a trio. With time, he laughed with you both, trusted you both, became one of you both.

The three of you were inseparable— in the backyard of your house, in elementary school, in high school. How could you not be? You had tied the promise in the form of handmade friendship bracelets around the wrist of both boys.

Even though what you wanted with minho was far from friendship. A bold dreamer, you always have been. But not so much when you turned sixteen. Sixteen; what a awkward age.

An age of overthinking haircuts, dreams, and the lives your peers are gonna live all at once. Visits to the school councilor are doubled. Relationships happen; Friends part.

But you only grew closer with Jungkook. He didn’t seemed interested in making a move on the timid, short haired girl who passed him notes in chemistry class, neither did he talk much about the future. When you asked him what he wanted to do, he’d shrug and say something like, “Whatever makes sense at the time.” He wasn’t aimless, exactly—just grounded in a way that made you think he didn’t feel the need to plan everything out.

Minho, though, was spiraling.

He now spent more time with the councilor that he spent with you both. Had this bitter look on his face every morning you saw him on the bus stop that will have you sharing a knowing look with Jungkook—Minho had been having a lot of fights with his dad, had been overthinking a lot more because the world seemed so much bigger than he had imagined.

Maybe for the eldest son and heir to a family that ran a company as old as the town itself, the world really was big. But to you, he was just a hopeful boy with all the colors in his eyes. The colors that you loved. The colors that didn't belong in a office, crunching numbers.

Your heart ached for him, but you didn’t know what to say. At sixteen, nobody has the answers.

Seventeen is a different story. It's a starlight dream. It's you acing the college entrance test. It's Minho surfacing back. It's Minho kissing you on that very same porch, promising, “One day, we’ll have our own porch, and I’ll kiss you there every day.”

And he was one to keep his promises.

You married him at twenty-five, in crisp autumn. To your family and friends, it was "About time." To you, it was nothing short of a dream as you walked to promise forever to the man you love, a vision in white. It was nothing big, just a dreamy intimate affair with soft twinkling string lights. Something you both agreed on. Because you were content with what you had, overjoyed actually after picking out a quite cozy apartment for the both of you and landing a job as a humanities professor in a university that wasn't too far from the said apartment. Minho was too and while things weren't the same with his father now, he did what he loved. Ever the artist at heart.

It was like everything you ever wrote in your middle school diary, everything you wished for was now laid under your feet like a carpet unfolding.

You were given a good time before it started pulling away from your feet.

At first, it was subtle. A missed dinner here, a canceled hangout there. Then he told you both he’d taken up an opportunity abroad to manage the family business, something Minho had no interest in, just on the night of your wedding after he had fulfilled his role of the groom's best man, watched you walk down the aisle.

You hadn’t seen the decision coming—not that night, not like this—but you couldn’t deny it either. Jungkook had seemed restless here, especially after finishing college.Conversations with him in those days had been brief, distracted, his eyes darting to the distance even as he smiled at you. It felt as you were trying to talk to the Jungkook who had appeared on your porch the first time. He hadn’t asked for understanding, and you hadn’t known how to offer it. His reasons were vague, more like placeholders for something unsaid. And so he left, quietly, with little fanfare, and though Minho seemed sad to see him go, you could tell he understood.

“It’s good for him,” Minho had said. “He deserves something for himself.”

Relationship happened; Friends parted.

You weren't sure if you understood. While you agreed with Minho, you couldn’t help but feel the loss of a friend now that his calls became less frequent until they stopped altogether. One day, he was simply gone, leaving behind only the memory of the boy who had once trusted you with his rare, precious smiles.

"You’d laugh if you saw me right now. I tried to fix the leaky sink in the kitchen, and now the entire floor is flooded. Minho’s being no help—just standing there laughing."

"Hey, stranger. Our anniversary is next weekend. We’re just doing a small dinner. You should come. Seriously, koo, don’t make me guilt-trip you."

"Saved you a slice of cake, but Minho ate it. You’d better show up next year, or I’ll stop saving you anything."

"Hey, Koo. Just checking in. Hope you're healthy and happy. Would love to hear from you"

You'd text him timely, in hopes that he still knows how to use a phone. But apparently, not.

Still, you had Minho. Your husband, your best friend.

Until you didn't.

Until the carpet was at last, snatched right down from your feet.

The diagnosis came in the spring. It started with a faint weakness in his voice. A shortness of breath he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Just tired,” he’d say, smiling that same easy smile. But tired turned into tests. Tests turned into results. And results turned into a diagnosis that was oh so cruel.

Leukemia. Early stages. Aggressive.

The months that followed were a blur of hospital visits, treatments, and quiet nights where you held him as he cried. You tried to be strong, for him, for both of you. Told him what the doctor in the sterile white office will tell you. "They've caught it early so we're not at a great risk here." You'd reassure him. "You have yet to get away from me, min min." You'd try making him laugh but he had always been better at that.

Now, suddenly he wasn't. The next two years, your life was just the slow, agonizing process of watching the man you loved fade away, losing every bit of his lively soul to the cancer, holding his hand when he was too weak to hold yours back.

Perhaps it wasn't only Minho who was chipping away. It was you too.

You turned into the woman who knew exactly how to track medication schedules, who could list every side effect of his treatment in order of severity, who spoke with doctors as if reciting a memorized script. You learned how to bite back the frustration when he snapped at you because he was in pain, and how to smile when all you wanted was to scream at the unfairness of it all.

You started to measure time not in days or months but in cycles of chemotherapy, in percentages of remission and relapse. Life was divided into hours spent in sterile hospital rooms, waiting for results that were never as hopeful as you needed them to be, and hours spent at home trying to pretend those results didn’t exist.

You had stopped dreaming. And minho had stopped painting.

Grief doesn’t wait for death— or so you've realized as you often found yourself grieving the life you had built together, the one you knew would never be the same. You grieved the sound of his laugh, which became quieter as the months passed. You grieved the way he used to tease you about your love for terrible reality shows, You grieved the mornings spent tangled together, talking about everything and nothing.

By the time the end came, you had already lost so much of him that you thought you might be prepared.

You weren’t.

And then he was gone.

With an, "I'm sorry. I love you." He was gone.

The house was too quiet without him, the days too long. You withdrew, not just from the world but from yourself, letting grief shape the edges of your existence.

The world moved on, even if you didn’t. They tell you how long it takes to fall in love but not how long it takes to get over it.

2 years, 240 days. And you're still counting.

Time passed in pieces—fractured and unrelenting.

Your family, Minho’s family, even well-meaning friends—none of them knew what to do with the mess you’d become, so they did what people often did. They tried to fix it. To fix you.

Blind dates were their answer, little nudges toward what they called healing. The word had been said so many times it began to lose its meaning. Healing. As if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.

You didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, so you let them dress you up, hand you phone numbers, and convince you that this—whatever this was—was what you needed.

But your heart wasn’t in it.

Because as the man sat in front of you in the dimly lit bar continued to talk about how his ex couldn't handle his success, the trials of being a man with ambition, you really couldn't even bother to pretend you were interested. He was nice enough—tall, well dressed (consdering the dingy bar) with a confident smile but your thoughts kept drifting, as they often did.

2 years, 240 days since Minho had died.

2 years, 240 days of waking up alone in your bed, his side untouched.

2 years, 240 days of trying to find your way back to the woman you used to be.

“Hey,” the man interrupted your thoughts, leaning forward with an eager grin. “I feel like I’m talking too much. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

You forced a smile, your stomach twisting. “I paint. It’s... therapeutic.”

“That’s nice,” he said, reaching across the table to touch your hand. You pulled back instinctively, your stool scraping against the floor. His brows furrowed.

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said, but his tone was tighter now. He leaned back, shrugging as if trying to dismiss the moment. “You know, you should loosen up a little. You’ll never find anyone if you keep acting like you’re still married.”

The words hit you like a slap, your chest tightening as you struggled to process the audacity of his statement. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring the warning in your tone, “you should give people a chance. I mean, you’re here, right?” He smirked and stood, coming around the table. “Let me take you home. We can—”

“Stop,” you said sharply, rising to your feet.

But he didn’t listen. His hand reached for your arm, his grip firm.

Then, just as suddenly as he’d grabbed you, he was gone.

The man stumbled backward, a hand jerking him by the collar. The force was so swift, so unexpected, that it took you a moment to register what had happened.

And then you saw him.

“..Jungkook?” The name caught in your throat as you turned.

You took in the man standing before you, taller and broader than you remembered, the years etched into the sharp lines of his jaw and the set of his shoulders. His dark eyes were fixed on the man who had dared to touch you, glinting coldly.

His voice was low, dangerous. “She said stop. I suggest you listen.”

For a moment, the world tilted.

You weren’t in a dingy bar anymore.

You were standing at the edge of a memory—the first time you’d ever seen Jungkook, the quiet boy who clung to Minho’s shadow.

And the last.

The last time you’d seen him, a looming figure in an ocean of black suits. A barely recognizable shadow among the mourners at your husband's funeral.

Now, standing before you, he was real, tangible—and so was the flood of emotions crashing over you.

It was so loud, you could barely hear as the the man stammered out an excuse, something about a misunderstanding.

“Leave.” Jungkook snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut and bring you back to the moment.

The man hesitated, his mouth opening as though he wanted to argue, but one glance at Jungkook’s expression and he decided against it. Without another word, he turned and stalked out, muttering something under his breath that neither of you caught.

Silence followed.

Only then did you felt his gaze on you. His presence was larger than life, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of how much had changed. How much he had changed. You hadn’t registered that at the funeral. Now, you didn't know what to say, you could hardly manage to look at him. While he wasn't Minho's real brother, didn't share any resemblance with him, it still hurt you, sucked you back into those times when it was the three of you, when it wasn't.

He too didn't reply right away, his gaze searching your face, as though he was also trying to piece together the version of you he remembered with the one standing before him now. When it landed on the arm you were clutching, the arm that dipshit had grabbed, you saw his eyes glint again.

"Did he hurt you?" It sounded more like a demand rather than a question but you couldn't even deciper the words, too focused on how his boyish tone had turned sharper, harder.

"W-What?" You fumble out like a fool.

"Did he hurt you, y/n?" This time, you heard him.

Letting your hand fall, embarrassed, you shook your head, finally managing to utter something sensible out. “No—yeah. I’m fine.”

He glanced back at the door that man had fled from before looking back at you. Finally, he exhaled, his voice low and quiet.

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

You blinked. “My phone?” You don't remember getting a call from anyone but then you realize your battery had died down as you looked down to see your dead device laying flat. "Oh. I didn't realis—"

“Mom said you’d been gone a while. Told me where you were.” He interrupted. There was an edge to his voice now, faint but undeniable.

You feel more embarrassed now that you know it's because of your mother in law's anxious nature that he is here. Your fingers brushed against the strap of your purse, desperate for something to do, something to hold onto as he speaks again. "Are you ready to leave?"

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out before you could think them through. “I can get a cab.”

His brows furrowed, just slightly, and you noticed for the first time the faint shadows beneath his eyes, the hint of weariness in his expression. “It’s late,” he said simply.

"So?”

“So,” he echoed, his tone calm but unyielding, “I’ll take you.”

You hesitated, your pride and your exhaustion warring within you. Finally, you exhaled out in defeat, reaching for your coat. It's just a thirty minute ride. You reassured yourself. It'll be fine.

The cool night air wrapped around you and so did your coat as you stepped outside, and the streetlights cast long shadows that flickered as you walked toward his car. He opened the passenger door for you, his movements deliberate, and waited for you to slide in before closing it softly behind you.

The drive started in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of old friends, the kind that felt easy and safe. This was different—fraught, taut, like a thread stretched too tight.

You stole a glance at him as he started the engine, too aware of the small space you were packed in with him.

“I didn’t know you were back,” you said finally, your statement sounding more accusatory that you or he would have liked.

“Just for a little while,” he replied, his tone ofcourse, unfazed. “Business.”

Buisness. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the word. If someone could look like that word, you thought, it'd be the man in the fine tailored suit with eyes fixed on the road ahead and a rolex that didn't look any more cheaper than the car he was driving and you wondered.

Wondered if the lines of his palms—the callouses from late-night basketball games, the way they had felt solid and familiar when he held yours to steady you on the wobbly bike Minho had convinced you to ride—had changed too.

Had they turned forigen, unyielding? Had time eroded their familiarity?

When the car slowed, you glanced out the window, expecting to see the acquinated sight of your apartment building. But instead, the streetlights gave way to a quieter, darker road. You frowned, turning to him.

“This isn’t the way to my place.”

“I know,” he said simply, not bothering to elaborate. "You're coming with me."

You felt your chest tighten, your pulse quickening as unease prickled at the back of your neck. “Jungkook,” you started, the word heavy with protest.

"Y/N." He ends, sparing you a glance that has you sinking back into your seat, arms folded across your chest like a petulant child that you could swear made his lips twitch at the corner, you could swear you saw your old friend who had grown a sassy tounge at the age of fourteen that'd earn smacks at the head from his older brother for a fleeting cruel second there. But that was it. It was gone as fast as it had appeared, summoning the return of the silence that felt like its own living thing.

The house was still the same.

That was the first thing you noticed as the car slowed down in front of the building that loomed at the end of the road like a memory waiting to consume you.

The overhead lights still flickered faintly, casting shadows across the steps where you and Minho had once sat, daring each other to stay outside until the stars disappeared. Even the smell was the same—faintly woody, with the comforting hint of whatever candle Jungkook’s mom always lit in the hallway.

You hesitated in the doorway, the memories rushing in too fast, too loud. It's not like you haven't been here in ages but since the year you celebrated your first marriage anniversary with Minho here, it felt like you have lived a thousand lives.

Lives that haunted you still, made you randomly pause in the grocery aisle and now before this house until you felt Jungkook’s presence press behind you as if silently urging you on.

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of your heels that have been as much as pain as the man you had been on a date with. The floor creaked softly beneath your feet as you stepped inside, the sound jarring. The same hardwood floors, polished to a faint sheen. The same floral wallpaper lining the hallway. The same photo frames arranged along the wall—a collection of childhoods captured and frozen in time.

But as you glanced toward the corner of the living room where the three of you used to pile up pillows and blankets for makeshift forts. The corner was bare now, save for an old armchair, but in your mind, you saw it vividly: Minho’s determined grin as he shuffled the pillows, Jungkook, always following the lead but never quite competing for it. You would snuggle a pillow to your lap, nestled between the two brothers, peeking from behind your fingers and giggling at the the way Minho’s face would light up in triumph when he won another round of rock-paper-scissors.

A type of smugness that came from knowing he’d get to flick Jungkook’s forehead next. But your smile would fade as soon as you would realize that it's your turn next. “Wait, wait!” you’d plead, wide-eyed, deploying the best puppy-dog look you could muster. It was the same look that had, on occasion, earned you extra TV time with your dad. Jungkook would glance at you and chuckle. Relent like your father would and sheild your forehead with his palm that'd have Minho pouting. "Hey! That's not how you do it!"

"Y/N?" A well recognized voice pulled you back to the where you were supposed to be, back from the fort of pillows and blankets.

You turned around and instantly found yourself wrapped up in a tight hug. You managed a small smile, letting your arms wrap around the warm frame of your mother in law, the scent of her jasmine oil and apprehensive energy pulling you in. "Mom." You greeted back.

Mrs Jeon hadn't always been this.. overbearing. Though after the passing of your husband, she had teamed up with your mother and been on a determined mission to make sure you are well and on a road to healing.

The next few minutes, she did what she had been doing best—fussed over you, asking how you’d been, if you’d eaten, if you were warm enough. In that time being, Jungkook had resigned to wherever his room was.

You planned to do the same, especially now that you could see on her face how she is on the brink of asking about the disaster tonight. You showed some obvious sign of weariness, in hopes she'd let it go for the night and tell you where you're supposed to go to bed for.

"Third on the left, my dear. And I'm gonna need you to stay for breakfast, okay?" You wondered if stubbornness was a running streak in this family.

Hours later, sleep had yet to come.

You lay awake, staring at the ceiling, counting the faint grooves in the plaster as if they could somehow lull you into rest. The trick didn't work. It hadn’t worked in your own apartment either—the one you and Minho had picked out together, picked the colors of the walls together, and argued over where the bookshelf should be. Yet, it was still your space. You could control how you faced the memories there, pacing them, deciding when and how to confront them.

There, at least, you’d managed four or five hours of sleep on a good night. Here? In this house that held so much of him, so much of them, you weren’t sure you’d manage even one.

The room you were led to was neat and welcoming, the kind of space that had been carefully prepared for guests. But there was no comfort to be found in the knowledge that two doors down lay Minho’s childhood room, untouched, a shrine to a boy who grew up into the man you loved and lost.

At some point, you gave up.

Sliding out of bed, you wrapped your arms around yourself as you padded quietly downstairs. The house was silent as you made your way downstairs, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound, the indistinct glow from the kitchen spilling into the dimness. You didn’t expect to find anyone there, but as you rounded the corner, your steps faltered.

Jungkook stood by the counter, a glass of amber liquid in his hand, his other resting on the marble surface. His jacket was gone, abandoned somewhere, leaving him in his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Tattoos.

They sprawled across his skin, intricate designs etched into muscle and sinew, that you didn't think you'd ever see on him.

Perhaps you thought wrong. Perhaps you never knew. Never knew him.

He glanced up, his dark eyes meeting yours that looked just as caught off guard as yours did. For a moment, you didn't feel comfortable moving from your spot until he eventually spoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quiet.

You shook your head, stepping into the kitchen. “Needed some water.” You said and opened a cabinet, finding the glasses exactly where you remembered, and filled one with water.

Behind you, Jungkook leaned against the counter, his presence impossible to ignore. Funny, how he always preferred to blend in the background as a child, now his mere cologne—earthy and warm—demanded attention, filled the room before he had even entered.

“Do you… do you drink often now?” you asked hesitantly, glancing over your shoulder, at the way his fingers curled around the glass, the tattoos on his hand shifting as he tilted it.

“Sometimes.” he said, his tone vague.

If things were anything like before between you two or anything like before at all, maybe you'd have pushed further, asked him if this was growing to be a unhealthy habit.

Now, it didn’t seem right when there was an ocean between you—a chasm of time. Felt intrusive. And you know it would only sound hypocritical from your mouth—talking about unhealthy mechanisms. Hah.

You ended up only nodding and put the washed glass back so you could go back to counting the grooves in the plaster. Resume your restless attempt at sleep.

But Jungkook spoke again.

"How long have you been going on.." He started suddenly, setting his glass down with a quiet clink. His voice was calm, but the muscle in his jaw twitched as he spoke. "These dates?"

You blinked at him, taken aback by the question. "Uh—for a while now, I guess?"

“Are you willing, or are they forcing you?”

The question, the way he asked it—sharp, direct—left you off balance. So did the way he was looking at you now, his eyes no longer holding the casualty as they once did when he had the glass of alcohol in his hand.

“I—” You faltered. “They just want to help. They think it’s time.”

“And what do you want?”

To go back to your room. To ask him what did it even matter to him, after all this time.

But what came out was forthright honesty. “I don’t know,” you admitted, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

He stepped closer, his feet padding softly against the kitchen floor—a contrast to his rigid frame that now towered just close enough. Close enough to see how his chest rose and fell with every breath. Close enough to see how his eyes lingered on you, like he was trying to unravel something he didn’t understand.

“You don’t have to do anything for them or anyone,” he said, his voice soft but no less rough. “Not if you’re not ready.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to deflect, to do something, but his gaze held you in place, tracing down from the dark circles that weighted your eyes to your parted lips. All you could feel was his gaze burning on you and hear your own pulse in your ears.

“Jungkook…” His name escaped your lips in a whisper, barely audible.

He lingered for a beat longer, his eyes searching yours, then he stepped back, his jaw just as tight. “Get some rest.” He clipped out before he turned and walked away, leaving you alone again.

You didn't got any sleep that night.

8:00'o clock. The time's a etched number in your brain ever since you started your job at the university.

It's a routine that needs no alarm clock. It's a number you keep waiting for as you blink at the time passing. And you're more than eager when the morning comes softly along with smaller needle stopping at 8, sunlight slipping through the curtains in streaks too gentle to match the weight in your chest.

With Minho, you were the one to wake up first but here you find that the house was awake before you.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted through the air, mingling with the faint sound of voices coming from the dining room. Breakfast was warm and lively, much like your mother in law. She greeted you with a brightness that almost made you feel guilty for your somber disposition.

“Good morning!” she said with a smile that could have been plucked from a painting. Reaching for a plate of toast, setting it down in front of the empty seat beside her.

“Good morning.” you murmured, sliding into a chair.

Across the table, your father in law sat at his usual spot, his attention fixed on his phone, only looking up to give you a nod of acknowledgment. You had never fully understood him, not as Minho’s father, not as a man.

Perhaps, It had always been because of the sore spot between him and your husband, the way his father disapproved of his wishes—choosing art over business, passion over practicality. You remembered the arguments you thought would never hear after the age of sixteen, the way Minho would come home, his face tight with frustration. “He doesn’t get it,” he’d say. “He never will.” You saw the way it wore on him, the way he carried the weight of his father’s disapproval like it was stitched into his very skin.

Even now, as you sat across from him, you wondered if he ever regretted it—if he ever wished he had spoken softer, loved louder. But his face was as impassive as ever, his thoughts a mystery.

“Jungkook left early this morning,” his mother said, breaking the silence. “Something about a meeting downtown.”

You nodded, relief washing over you in a way that felt almost shameful. You hadn’t realized how much you were dreading seeing him until you knew you wouldn’t have to.

“Busy as always,” you said lightly, reaching for your coffee.

The conversation drifted into familiar topics—neighbors, extended family, stories you half-listened to with polite nods. The table felt both too full and too empty, the gazes of all the people that sat there never straying to the right one in the left corner, just right beside yours.

The older woman turned to you, her tone bright with enthusiasm.

“There’s a party this weekend,” she said, her smile widening. “Just a small gathering with some friends and business partners. It would be lovely if you came with us.”

The suggestion made you squirm uncomfortably in your chair. “Oh, I don’t think—”

“It’ll be good for you,” she interrupted gently, her gaze soft but insistent. “Everyone would love to see you.”

You hesitated, the thought of mingling with people, of putting on a brave face for strangers already making you want to go back to bed. “I’m not sure I’d be good company,” You glanced towards your father in law, half-hoping he might say something to discourage the idea, but he couldn't be any less bothered.

“Nonsense!” she pressed. “You don’t even have to stay long. But it would mean so much to us.”

There was no malice in her persistence, no attempt to guilt you, just a genuine desire to include you in their lives. You couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Okay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

Her face lit up with a smile. “Wonderful. Jungkook will pick you up and bring you there. That way, you don’t have to worry about driving.”

You froze, cup midway to your mouth. "There's no need for that, mom."

"Oh hush." she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He’ll be coming from the office, so it’s no trouble.”

You nodded slowly, your appetite not too great or you just wanted to get out of here.

8'30. You glanced at the rose gold wrist watch, your first anniversary gift. Your first class is due in an hour, the perfect excuse wrapped around your wrist which you use to excuse yourself from the suffocating walls that always feel like they are closing in on you.

You have come to prefer the morning buzz of the university more—the hum of young adults chatting in the hallways, the scrape of chairs against tiled floors.It was a rhythm you found comforting, predictable in its own way. Here, you were just a professor, the one who explained history and philosophy with hands that only shook sometimes.

The teenage year you would have thought predictable as boring but you— a woman gone through a dubious sets of events found a fellow feeling in it.

Found the task of grading thesis, making power point presentation better than you would have ever imagined.

But Gods, your students need to realize that they can't dump about their toxic ex in every essay. A woman can only take so much.

You were sorting through the said papers in your office when the door creaked open, and a woman peeked her head in, the light from the outside catching in her curly locks.

“You busy?” she asked, her voice light and familiar.

You looked up to see Mira, the economics professor and one of your closest colleagues, walking toward you with her usual warm smile. Mira was more than just a coworker though—being practically family, the wife of Minho’s dark haired cousin who didn’t talk much in family gatherings, and over the years, she had become a friend you could rely on and share lunch with.

“Not for you,” you said, smiling as you waved her in.

She dropped into the chair across from you, setting her bag on the floor. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

Was it that obvious?

“I didn’t,” you admitted, sighing softly. “I stayed at the Jeons’ last night.”

Her eyebrows rose, but there was something in her eyes—a softness, an understanding—that made you look away for a second. “How’d that go?”

You hesitated, picking at the edge of a notebook on your desk. “It was… fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Jungkook’s back,” you said, and her eyes widened slightly, the topic seeming to catch her attention.

“Really? I didn’t know he was in town.”

“Neither did I, until yesterday.” You shrugged, leaning back in your chair. “Just for a while, though. Business stuff, y'know?”

Mira tilted her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “And how’s that going?”

You frowned, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, but her eyes stayed on you, curious. “I mean, it’s been years, hasn’t it?"

“Yeah,” you said slowly. "It's fine, I suppose. We didn't talk much."

“Hmm.” Mira hummed thoughtfully as if tasting the question she was gonna ask on her tounge. “Are you okay with him being back?”

Were you okay with him behind back? Okay with him stepping in your vicinity after years of acting like you were not even family, let alone a friend?

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “It’s strange seeing him again after all this time. But he’s been… kind. Quiet, mostly.”

Mira didn’t press further, but there was something in her expression that made you uneasy, as if she knew something you didn’t.

You cleared your throat, desperate to change the subject. “There’s a party this weekend. His mom invited me. Please tell me you’re going.”

Mira winced, her smile apologetic. “Date night with the husband. Non-negotiable.”

"Oh." You tried not to show the dejection on your face but it was there. "Lucky you."

She studied you for a moment, her expression gentle. “Are you okay with going?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything for them. Not if you’re not ready.”

If only he understood how much easier it was to do things for others than to face yourself.

“Y/N…” Her voice softened, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say more. Instead, she reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, you can text me. I’ll make up some excuse to get you out of there.”

You smiled, grateful for her before bidding bye to her for her next class and focusing back on the pending work spread across your desk while simultaneously going through your closet in your mind.

Minho had always said red made the brown of your eyes excel more.

And you have really tried to believe it, looking at yourself from above your shoulder, from the side of your arm in the mirror but perhaps it's not only this red, off shoulder dress that's not doing your eyes justice. It's every color you have once known, once loved.

It's like, it's you that's not doing them justice.

As you stared into the mirror, your eyes flitting from one detail to the next—the slightly uneven tuck of fabric, the exposed skin of your collarbone—it felt wrong.

The little things were missing—his hands fixing the clasp of your necklace, his voice telling you not to overthink it, that you looked beautiful. That it didn’t matter what you wore, because it was you who wore it.

But he wasn’t here.

With a sigh, you adjusted the necklace you had chosen yourself, a simple silver chain that rested delicately against your collarbone. The mirror wasn’t forgiving, but you looked anyway, searching for something familiar in your own reflection. You smoothed your hands over the fabric, told yourself this was just another party, and dodged the doubts of this being a mistake.

The knock at your door came too soon, sharp and punctual, like everything Jungkook had become.

You felt your stomach clench, nerves twisting with something else you couldn’t name. Smoothing your dress one last time, you crossed the small space of your apartment, pausing just before the door.

When you opened it, Jungkook was standing right before you.

He had stood on the edge of cliffs where oceans met skies too, in countless countries at that, walked through streets that droned with history. Scrawled through the wonders of the world—the kind that made poets immortalize them in verse—but nothing—nothing—would ever measure up to this.

To you.

You, standing in the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the hall light, your hair falling in waves that he had memorized long ago.

His chest tightened, the memory of another doorway bleeding into the moment as gaily as if it had just happened. He had been in the room meant for waiting, where your parents had sat moments before, your mother sniffling into a tissue, your father pacing in his polished shoes. Now it had been his turn.

The thought alone of being the second person to see you before you walked away from him for good had made his tie that he had been trying to get the hang off felt too stressed around his neck, his palms clammy despite the air conditioning. He rubbed them on his pants, glancing at the small clock on the mantle every few seconds. The minutes dragged, each one seemed longer than the other.

What would you look like?

The thought ran circles in his mind, only for a creak of the door to startle him back.

Footsteps had echoed in the quiet, minimizing the distance until he could practically feel the nervous energy of a bride bounce against his. "Okay. You can turn around now." He had heard you speak, had seen the skittish smile on your face before he even turned around.

And when he did, he felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

The dress hugged you like it had been designed with only you in mind, its soft fabric flowing as if in defiance of gravity. Your veil cascaded behind you, catching the light, and your smile was small, almost shy, as you looked up at him, waiting for his reaction.

“Well?” you prompted, turning slightly, your hands brushing the fabric at your sides. “What do you think?”

What did he think? He thought the universe was wicked for allowing him to witness this and still expect him to let you go.

He had swallowed hard, forcing his voice to steady when he finally said, “You look—” His tongue had faltered over every adjective that came to mind. Beautiful wasn’t enough. Breathtaking felt like a cliché. “Perfect.”

You—Beautiful, Devastatingly, so.

You—who weren’t his to look at this way.

He feels his breath catch, his hands clenching at his sides to keep himself from reaching for you.

Because while that version of you had been a dream, this version—worn, weathered, but still so unmistakably you—was real. And the reality of you had always been what he wanted most.

Fuck. He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t have agreed to pick you up, shouldn’t have stepped into this space, should have kept the distance he had spent years bridging.

But he has always found himself hopeless and running back to wherever you were concerned, hopeless in a way that had him studying for a test he didn’t even have to keep you company or show up.. here. Content to be near you in whatever capacity he could. He told himself it was enough. That it would be enough to watch you from the sidelines, to sit across from you at family dinners.

It wasn’t.

Because Jungkook wasn't a virtuous man. He never had been.

Virtue belonged to his brother—the one who could weave dreams out of thin air, who saw the world in colors Jungkook had never learned to name. His brother—Minho—who had been the light, the warmth that people, he gravitated toward. He had admired Minho, even envied him, resented him in ways he never admitted aloud and kept it in shadows.

When Minho died, the shadow became a man. And that man had spent years running.

Running into work, into unfamiliar cities, into the kind of purpose that left no room for thought. No room for the times when everything was right, when he tasted family and friendship for the first time ever, no room for the last time he tasted it when you walked down the aisle to his brother looking at him like he was the sun and how it burned, how he had burned with nails biting into his palms.

And only men with no integrity burn. Men who are cowards, restless, afraid of thier own greed try to run, in hopes that the distance would save them.

But distance didn’t save men like Jungkook.

Because here he was again, standing before you, the fire still smoldering.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice pulling him back, creating a doubt in his belief.

“Hi,” he replied, his own tounge feeling heavy in his mouth.

“You’re early,” you said, your tone carefully light.

He cleared his throat, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks in an attempt to keep them to themselves. “Traffic was lighter than I expected. Are you ready to leave?"

You nodded and he stepped back, revealing his sleek Mercedes benz parked just right in front. He let you walk before him, watching how your movements were hesitant, as if the ground beneath your feet wasn’t entirely steady. He wanted to ask you if you were okay. He wanted to tell you it was okay if you weren't.

He settled for opening the car door for you.

“Thanks for this,” you said, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights. “I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do.”

His grip tightened against the leather of the steering wheel with a force that made his knuckles ache. There was a rancorous way that you spoke to him, carefully restrained, that he couldn't even blame you for.

"It's not." He gritted out. "It's not a problem."

He had earned every inch of this gap between you, had spent years building it brick by brick, mile by mile. He's all to blame for. For carving the space between you with every ignored call, every excuse he made to avoid family dinners where you’d inevitably be.

For the leaving the wreckage in his wake—yours, his, theirs.

It wasn’t fair to hate the consequences of his own choices.

But hell, if he didn't outright loathed feeling like he was staring at a wall of frosted glass when he looked at you—where he could see the outline of you, but the details were blurred, distant. Like he had lost the privilge of knowing you from one glance, lost the privilge of having you speak up to him whenever you wanted, call him out, intoxicate him with your laughter that lightened up a room he wasn't even aware was dark. Found it fucking unbearable.

So much that he felt relief washing over him when the venue of the gathering came in view. A grand mansion, framed by manicured gardens and sprawling oaks that seemed to whisper old secrets to one another. It had a timeless elegance that made you wonder how many lives it had seen pass through its doors.

Small gathering, she said. You scoffed internally at rich people and their definition of small.

“Nice place,” you murmured as you walked beside him, your steps careful on the stone path after the car was eased into a parking spot.

“It’s the Kim's family home,” Jungkook said. You nodded, though the name didn’t spark much recognition. The Kims had been mentioned here and there at family dinners—names dropped in passing between sips of wine and shared laughter. You had barely paid attention then, too busy suppressing laughs at the jokes that Minho whispered near.

The front doors were open, the faint scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne wafting out to greet you. Inside, the space was as opulent as expected—high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers, polished floors that gleamed under the soft light, and clusters of well-dressed guests milling about with drinks in hand.

A tall man stood near the entrance, his broad shoulders and sharp jawline making him impossible to miss. Beside him, another man stood with a softer air, his eyes crinkling with warmth as he leaned into the first man’s side.

The taller of the two men turned, his expression lighting up as he spotted Jungkook. “There he is,” He said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly.

"Hyung." Jungkook softened, clasping hands in a firm shake before pulling each other into a brief hug, the kind that spoke of collaboration and respect.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, your fingers curling around the strap of your purse as you wondered whether to step back and leave him to his conversation or stay and risk being out of place.Would it be rude if you chose the former?

You were saved from your uncertainty when the two of them pulled away from Jungkook and took you in, a gleam of recognition passing through their face. Recognition, shock, then pity. You know how it went.

“You must be Y/N,” the taller one said, his gaze shifting to you with a warm smile.

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the direct attention. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Kim Namjoon ” he said, offering his hand. “And this is Seokjin, my partner.” You smiled, nodding in acknowledgment before taking the hand of the charming one in the beige suit. “It’s nice to meet you, both. This is a beautiful venue.” You assume that they're the hosts of the party. The Kims that this house belonged to.

“Thank my father for that,” Namjoon said with a chuckle. “Sixty years old and still insists on hosting the most extravagant parties. He’d never let me live it down if I didn’t pull out all the stops.”

“Extravagant is an understatement,” Seokjin chimed in, his tone playful as he glanced at Namjoon. “I’m pretty sure half the flowers in the city ended up here.”

You smiled again, but it faltered when Seokjin's expression changed in a beat.

“We’ve heard a lot about you too,” he said gently, his gaze dipping briefly to Jungkook before meeting yours again.

You tilted your head, curiosity flashing across your face. “All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Namjoon assured you. “Your family is well-regarded, and we-we're sorry about Minho. He was brilliant in every sense of the world. We can't even imagin—"

“Thank you,” you said softly, trying really hard to not let the tightening of your throat strain your voice. “He was.”

Jungkook watched as your smile faltered, just slightly, at the mention of Minho. He decided to steer the conversation away but you recovered quickly, offering a polite nod and beat him to it.

There was a brief, loaded pause before you glanced at Jungkook. “I should find mom. She asked me to join her earlier.”

"Yeah, right.” Jungkook said, his voice steady despite the way his chest tightened again when he looked at you.

You walked by Jungkook, brushing close enough that your shoulder brushed against his chest, the faintest hint of your vanilla perfume that was so maddeningly you lingered in the air. He tensed, his breath catching before he could stop it. His fingers twitched at his sides, an almost imperceptible motion, but it was enough.

Subtle as he tried to be, he caught himself leaning slightly, his chest rising with a quiet inhale as though he could take the ghost of your scent and keep it for himself.

"Not as subtle as you think." Seokjin snickered by his boyfriend's side who also raised an eyebrow, his expression knowing and somewhat giving away his discomfort. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

Shit.

Jungkook straightened, his jaw clenching as he avoided their eyes, fixing the collar of his shirt hoping they won't catch on the heat creeping up on his neck too. “Don’t.” he said quietly, his tone low and edged with warning.

"Maybe you don't sniff her like a dog in public? Maybe you have some decorum?" Seokjin judged, proud and loud.

"I have plenty, hyung." The younger male side eyed the older one, his eyes narrowed and the tips of his ears already crimson red like he was a boy caught watching porn for the very first time.

Namjoon sighed, though there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Let him be, honey.”

But the look he gave Jungkook was far from dismissive. It was the kind of look that saw too much, that peeled back layers Jungkook wasn’t ready to confront. Gods, he needed new friends.

He turned his attention back to the crowd where you disappeared.

The soft hum of conversations and the faint clinking of glasses followed you as you weaved through the grand hall, your eyes scanning for your mother-in-law’s familiar figure. The air in the mansion was heavier than it had been when you arrived, the brush of silk against silk, the way every movement seemed calculated, observed, and weighed.

You navigated through the crowd like a ghost in a gallery, your steps measured and slow, eyes flicking to the floor more than once to avoid the speculative stares. With rich circles came dirty gossip—whispered words disguised as laughter, false smiles that hid daggers. You’d learned to let them roll off your back, like rain on stone.

The Jeon matriarch had mentioned being near the back, closer to where the banquet tables were set. You followed the direction she’d gestured toward earlier, passing servers who moved seamlessly with trays of sparkling champagne.

Halfway through the journey, your steps faltered as your gaze landed on the centerpiece of one table—a chocolate fountain. Warm, rich, and cascading like liquid satin, it stood surrounded by an array of treats. Strawberries gleamed like rubies in the low light, their surfaces polished and inviting.

You hesitated, glanced around as if expecting someone to berate you for indulging in something so ordinary, but eventually, you plucked a strawberry and dipped it into the cascading chocolate.

You let the sweetness settle on your tongue, closing your eyes for a brief moment. For the first time all evening, you found this place somewhat tolerable.

Free food always making things better.

“Excuse me, miss.” a small voice piped up beside you, tugging on the flowy end of your dress.

A boy, no older than six or seven, stood by your side, his wide eyes flicking between you and the fountain. He looked as if he had stepped out of a luxury children’s catalog, his little suit tailored perfectly, his bow tie slightly askew. “Can you grab one for me? I’m not allowed to reach it by myself.” he asked, pointing at the fountain. His voice was polite, but there was a hopeful edge to it, as if he wasn’t used to asking for things twice.

“Of course, love.” you said, your lips curving into a small smile. You picked another strawberry, dipping it with care before crouching slightly to hand it to him. "There you go."

“Thank you!” he chirped, grinning immediate and radiant, the kind that softened the edges of a hard day.

"What's your name?" You asked him, crouching down to his level.

“Do-yun!” came a sharp voice, the kind that turned your stomach before your brain even processed it.

Who you assumed was the boy's mother stepped forward, her elegance severe, her lips painted in a red that matched the strawberries. She took her son’s hand but not before her eyes raked over you, head to toe, with an expression that left no room for interpretation.

"What did I tell you about bothering strangers?” she scolded do-yun who stared at the skewer in his hand apologetically.

“He wasn’t bothering me,” you said gently, straightening up and having the woman’s eyes flicker to you again, assessing.

“He just wanted a treat.”

Her eyes flicked to the chocolate fountain, then back to you, her lips pressing into a tight smile. “how kind of you.”

There was no warmth in her tone, no hint of gratitude. Just a faintly dismissive air. And with that, she turned, her child in tow, leaving you with the faint scent of something floral and the taste of bitterness on your tongue.

You'd learned better than to expect warmth from people bound by history.

You'd learned not to mind it. To overlook it. To not pay attention to them at all.

"That's her, isn't she?"

“Such a shame, losing her husband so young.”

“Yes, but you know, they weren’t exactly power players, were they? He was an artist, wasn’t he?”

The words hung in the air like cigarette smoke, acrid and inescapable.

A laugh, soft and cruel. “I suppose she’s lucky the Jeons still keep her close. Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.”

You stopped in your tracks. The sharp sting of their voices cut through the party’s hum, louder than the music, louder than your own heartbeat.

You could feel your palms start to get sweaty, eyes suddenly unable to meet anyone's.

Breathe. You reminded yourself.

One: Find your breath.

Two: Focus on something neutral—the fountain, the floor, the chandelier above.

Three: Remind yourself: They don’t know you. Their words are weightless.

But weightless wasn’t the right word.

“Though, you’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly… widow-appropriate, is it?”

You tried to focus on your numbers but you lost it.

You turned, your fists clenched, your lips thinned, the polite demeanor cracking away from your face under the weight of your frustration.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended. “Was there something you wanted to say to my face?”

The women froze, their eyes widening in surprise. One of them, a younger woman with a nervous smile, tried to backpedal. “Oh, no, we didn’t mean—”

“Because if you have an issue with me or my dress, feel free to say it outright,” you continued, your voice clear despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. “I’d hate for you to waste any more time whispering behind my back.”

The group exchanged glances, communicating in a language of their own, you couldn’t care less about. Atleast not in this moment.

“We didn’t mean to offend,” one of them muttered, her tone brittle.

“Of course you didn’t,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could I possibly take offense to strangers dissecting my life as if it’s some dinner party entertainment?”

Stupid old hags with no life of their own!

You kept that to yourself.

Then, without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and stormed away.

The chandeliers above blurred as tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

You weren’t looking for anything specific—just distance, just air that wasn’t thick with judgment and whispers. A bathroom, maybe, though you weren’t going to ask for directions not when your voice felt like it would crack the moment you opened your mouth.

People brushed past you, their scents of expensive perfumes swirling in the air, their muted voices blending into a hum you couldn’t quite focus on. One or two bumped into your shoulder, but you didn’t apologize, didn’t bother looking back.

You just needed to get away—you just needed out of here.

And then, as if the universe wasn’t finished testing you, a firm hand of another one of a frame you jerked into, closed around your wrist, halting your momentum.

You looked up, brows scrunched, eyes glossy and mouth parting, ready to snap but then you were met with a amicable pair of dark eyes.

A crease of his own wrinkling his forehead as he looked down at you. "Is something wrong?" He asked and you almost wanted to laugh mockingly.

Instead, you did what you initially wanted to do. Your eyes flicked to his hand, then back to his face. “Let me go.”

He hesitated for a moment, tounge poking his cheek, grip on your hand loosening but not releasing entirely. "What's wrong, y/n?"

“I said, let me go,” you repeated, your voice firm, frangible at the edges before you pulled your hand away from him and pushed past to walk away without another word.

The next random hallway you stumbled into was quieter, emptier, and for that, you were grateful, stretched ahead like an endless corridor of polished wood and muted gold accents. The noise of the party faded into the background, muffled by the thick walls and heavy doors.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to roam around mindlessly any further. This should be good enough, you told yourself and leaned against one of the walls, your forehead pressing against the cool surface as you tried to breathe through the wave of vehemence emotions that crashed through you.

One: Inhale.

Two: Exhale.

Three: Forget the words they said. Forget them.

But they echoed, persistent and savage, circling in your mind like vultures.

Poor thing, all alone now. Must be awful.

You’d think she’d be a bit more modest. That dress isn’t exactly widow-appropriate, is it?

Your chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths, your hands clutching at your dress as if the fabric could somehow hold you together. But nothing could, nothing had. You had tried and tried and tried.. and fuck you didn't wanted to do it anymore.

Turning around, your head tipped back against the wall, the ceiling swimming in and out of focus as your vision blurred.

You shouldn’t have come here.

You should have stayed home, buried yourself in the comfort of your quiet apartment where no one whispered behind your back or looked at you with pity thinly disguised as deference.

Why did they care? Why did it matter to them how you dressed, how you existed, how you grieved?

It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. Crying wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t change anything.

Your hands gripped your clutch tightly, the edges digging into your palms, and for a moment, you considered throwing it—hurling it across the hall just to feel something break.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Because even here, in this quiet, empty hallway, you felt the silent expectation that you hold yourself together, that you keep smiling, keep nodding, keep existing in a way that made other people comfortable.

You hated this. You hated being you. You hated being the one who was left behind. And God you hated being alone. No Minho to make a quiet joke about the ridiculousness of it all and pull you toward something fun and irreverent.

Just you.

It will be always be just you. You've never admitted that to yourself but now that you did, you feel such panic rise in your chest that you don't hear him at first. Not until his voice broke through the haze.

“Y/N.”

It was soft, tentative, but it still cut through the silence like a blade.

You flinched, your head snapping toward the source of the voice. Jungkook stood a few feet away, his dark eyes searching yours, his expression shadowed with concern.

He had followed you.

“I told you to leave me alone,” you managed, your voice trembling as you turned away, willing him to disappear.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, his footsteps growing louder as he moved closer with a cautiousness that made you feel like a wounded animal. “Talk to me.” He added, the pleading in his voice almost running free.

"I mean it, Jungkook.. go away." You tried putting distance between the both of you again but far too quick for your slowed senses, he was now standing right in front of you, hands hovering in the air as if he didn't know what to do with him while also knowing.

"And I told you, I'm not leaving." His tone had coarsened and your dam had broke.

“Why now?” you cried, stepping closer to him, your fists balling at your sides. “Why do you want to stay now? You’ve spent years acting like a stranger, Jungkook. Years acting like I didn’t exist. And now—”

You shoved at his chest, your fists pounding weakly against him, but he didn’t move.

“Now you want to act like you care?” you yelled, your voice cracking as you hit him again. “Now you want to be here? Why?”

Jungkook stood still, his arms at his sides, his chest solid and unyielding beneath your fists. He didn’t flinch, didn’t step back, didn’t even try to stop you. He just let you hit him, let you pour out everything.His silence infuriated you, and yet it steadied you in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Why do you care now?" you repeated, your voice cracking, trembling like your hands as they hit his chest incessantly. Each word felt like it scraped raw against your throat. "Where were you, Jungkook? When everything fell apart, when I—when I needed someone. Where were you?"

“I don’t need you now!” you snapped, your tears falling freely now. “I don’t need you to come here and act like you care, like you’ve always cared, because we both know that’s not true."

“Because you left!" your voice cracked, the words laced with betrayal. The hurt from the breach of faith weakening you and your punches on his chest until they finally stilled, your hands trembling still as they curled into the fabric of his shirt. Jungkook caught your wrists, his hold firm but gentle, and for a moment, you fought him, your breaths coming in sharp and ragged. But when he didn’t let go, when he didn’t flinch or step back, the fight drained out of you.

Your knees buckled, and his arms came around you slowly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid you might push him away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You were too tired now. Empty hands that had been holding onto something for as long as you could remember were too tired, have forgotten the feeling of what it felt like to be held instead.

You allowed to let yourself feel that. You allowed yourself to feel someone else other than the woman you couldn’t even recognize in a mirror as you sagged against him, your head pressing against his shoulder as your tears soaked into his shirt, body shaking and shivering from the quiet sobs that you let out.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, angel." You heard him say those words like a mantra against your hair, arms tightening around you, nestling you close against his chest.

For a moment, you heard pain there, raw and unfiltered, pain that felt similiar to your own in ways you hadn’t expected. You clutched his shirt tighter. You didn't wanted to be alone and Jungkook felt and smelled of times when you weren't. Earthy and Warm. Like that one time when he pulled you in to him after the death of milo- your first dog, and didn’t even mind your snort.

You had clung to those memories but it felt better clinging to him. A small, desperate part of you wanting to drag him closer, to cling to what little you had left of the past. The rest of you wanted to push him away, to keep screaming at him for daring to come back after all this time, after all this distance.

The sobs subsided slowly, leaving behind the kind of stillness that felt fragile, as if it might shatter with the wrong word or movement. Jungkook didn’t push you away, didn’t loosen his hold. If anything, he pulled you closer, as though he feared you’d slip through his fingers if he let go.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your gaze searching his face. His eyes shadowed, a stupid perfect strand of his stupid perfect hair falling on his forehead with tension prominent in his jaw and you wondered if there was a time there wasn't.

You wondered if it would make you any more vulnerable that you are right now if you say the words that sit on the top of your tounge, sting in the tears that linger in the corner of your eyes.

“I missed you,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. They felt dangerous, like exposing a wound that had barely begun to scab over.

His eyes darkened, a low sound rumbling in his chest—something between a growl and a sigh. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I missed you too, angel."

The rawness in his tone made your chest clench, a part of you craving more, while another part shrieked at you to stop this before it went any further, gather whatever semblance has left of you and walk away, play his cards against him.

But you have never been too good with cards or walking away.

“Then why did you leave?” you croaked. “Why did you stay away for so long?”

His gaze dropped to the space between you before meeting your eyes again, his own breathing now getting uneven. You could feel it beneath you. Rising. And Rising. And Rising.

"I didn’t knew how to look at you and not feel like I'm.. betraying him." His voice trembles as he drews in breath and you're so close you feel the heat of it brush against your temple. "And I can not, not look at you. That became a problem."

Your body stiffened at the confession, the world around you shrinking until it was just the two of you, his voice echoing in your ears.

Your first instinct was disbelief.

This can't mean what you think it does.

This can’t mean what you think it does!

The words replayed in your mind, over and over, refusing to settle. Each repetition twisted something deeper, something buried in the hollow space that had once been you.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, needing space, needing air.

He didn’t move. His gaze followed you, his expression resolute, like he was determined to lay everything bare now that the first truth had slipped out.

But you didn’t even wanted to acknowledge it as something, let alone, a truth. “That’s not—” Your voice cracked, and you forced yourself to start again. "Are you drunk, Jungkook?" You found the thought so repulsing, you could only think of ways to brush this up, put all the blame on the champagne.

From the way his eyes narrowed and brow ridged, you could tell that it was not the champagne.

“Y/N.” he says with a warning. “I’m not fucking drunk.”

“Well, you sound like you are,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “Because that—what you just said—sounds like something someone says when they’re not thinking clearly. You're not making any sense, Jungkook!"

“It makes sense,” he was starting to get frustated now. “It’s the only thing that’s ever made sense to me.”

And you were starting to get scared. You needed him to stop talking. Anything and everything he said made you physically want to recoil. You took another step back, your arms wrapping around yourself as if you could shield yourself from the weight of unsaid words that are no longer so.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice breaking, hands tempted to cover your ears like a child. His confession felt like a pin pulled from a grenade, and now the blast was unfurling within you. “Don’t do this. It's not fair. It's-It's not fair to him. Or me. Or you."

I know. He admits quietly to himself because he doesn't think anyone knows better than the man who was holding the jagged ends of a once delicate thread. And he hates himself for it because hating you was as unrealistic as the existence of a greater being to him. He had tried. Tried turning to salvation. Tried to despise you for being the one thing that has turned him the best and worst person he can be but he just can't. He prefers hating himself better.

He wants this punishment, that is you. He wants to whisper I'm sorry- I'm sorry for leaving- I'm sorry for coming back in every crook and nook of your body for the rest of his life so you'd feel his expression of regret that could only be a product of love so consuming embedding into you.

Because it's truth. It's his truth, has been for years and years, before he even knew what are the consequences of being a honest person. Now that he is seeing you in front of him—you with a revolting look, a stray tear rolling down your eyes that is nowhere near as angry as it had been before, he understands that it's not a consequence he can take.

He dares to step forward again and even if takes a whole lot of power in him not to pull you into him again, he doesn't and only raises a hand and catches the tear with his thumb.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” you repeat, your voice low and trembling.

And so does his. "I know."

Jungkook didn’t know what he expected you to say, what he hoped for. Forgiveness? Understanding? He wasn’t sure he deserved either.

Yet when you don't pull away, look back at him with the same daring he had stepped forward with, a silence understanding passes between the space that is separating you from him. And he's done being separated from you.

He tilted his head down, his breath stirring your hair when he inhaled deeply, his nose tracing a path down until it rubbed against yours—softly, deliberately—as if giving you time to move away. You didn't and his eyes fell on your inviting mouth again.

Fuck it.

Jungkook surged forward, his hands cupping your face, tipping your face up to him as his lips crashed against yours. The way he kissed you was nothing like the way he had touched you. It was rough, desperate with the way tounge and teeth clashed, filled with years of pent up desire and regret and emotions too tangled to name.

He kissed you like the nights he’d spent staring at the ceiling in places too far from home, wondering if you’d be happier without him there to complicate things, wondering if things had been any different if he said something before. Will you have looked at him like the way you looked at his brother? Would that choice have saved you from years and years of tragedy? Would that have saved him from the weight of his guilt, his love—love that had been a silent, unwelcome presence in his life for so long that it felt like another organ, vital and inescapable?

When he felt you grip him again and kiss him back. Nothing else mattered. The world stopped spinning and he didn't wanted to run anymore.

His hands found your waist, gripping tightly. A low groan slipping from his mouth to yours at the feeling of how you melted against him when he deepened the kiss, tounge proding and exploring all that your sweet mouth had to offer. Gods, he was drunk now.

"Shit." He shuddered as the taste of you finally started to settle in, pulling you closer and closer, then pushing you back until your back met the wall of the hallway.

You should be scared, anxious and pushing him back. The mere thought of someone walking in on you kissing him, your supposed family. Should make you want to end this because you could only imagine the stake they'd pin you on. They'd be not wrong to.

This is traitorous—what you're doing, what you're allowing yourself. But so is a shameful part of you that had always reached for him. Something that whispered to you, so soft it felt like it came from inside your own chest.

It's not so bad. His lips feel good.

But oh, it is. It makes you sick from just thinking how bad it is. Anger, confusion, guilt—oh, the guilt—swirl together and make you so sick.

"W-We shouldn’t.." You gasp against him as your unpracticed lips suck on his in a contradiction.

"No, we shouldn't." He kisses you harder, his mouth only leaving yours to trail a train of kisses along the column of your accessible throat to him, making you whimper out loud that he takes as an sign to nibble and bite.

Your hands find their way to his shoulder and his to your hips. "Legs around me." He licks the length of your neck, narrowing your world down to the feeling of his provoking wet tounge on your skin, his calloused fingers squeezing your hips. It felt all too real now. And despite you being balant enough to start this in the first place, you're not sure if you're still feeling bold. What you are feeling is this sinful, unexplainable craving seeping into your bones, curling around your ribs, making it hard to breath and think. Or maybe it's him.

Whatever it is, you get yourself to pause his eager hands and hungry mouth and speak, your breath coming in short, hot puffs. "Jungkook.. I don't think-" He straightens up and the vulnerability in his voice and eyes is gone as he squeezes your hips tighter.

"Finally gave me that perfect mouth of yours and now you want to walk away? Do you like tormenting me, angel? Do you like knowing that I'd fuck my fist to only the thought of you when you do?" He growls against your ear and you feel yourself flush so hard you're sure he even feels the heat coming off you in ripples.

"Please, baby." He pleads unapologetically, fingers tugging you closer even when all of you is pressed against all of him. "I want you." So bad it hurts.

Gone is the man who had once been so armored, seemed so unreachable and untouchable. And left is Jeon Jungkook, who looks like he will crumble to the ground if you pull away now.

You wouldn't want that. But the words came anyway, right from where shame twisted in your stomach, tangling with the guilt that clawed at your throat. "Do you still want me even if I'm nothing like the woman I used to be?" It came out breakable and in segments, and the second they left your lips, you weren’t sure what to except as a answer.

For a moment, all you could hear was the ragged rhythm of your combined breathing.

You swallowed hard, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes was almost unbearable, raw and unrelenting as they searched yours.

"Don't ever say that again." he bit out, every syllable heavy. "I want you always. I want you with my every breath. There's always been only you for me, understand?" He added with a brief grind of his hardened arousal against your front, making you mewl.

The words, though, hit you like a physical forcek, breaking through the walls you’d built around yourself, the ones you’d convinced yourself were impenetrable.

Before you could respond, he moved.

His mouth fell onto yours again and with practiced ease, his hands slid to the backs of your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing. "Now. Legs around me, baby." he murmured in the kiss, and though your mind was a whirlwind of what seemed like every single thought you've ever had, your body obeyed.

You could barely figure out to where he was taking you, too engrossed in the kiss that you steered towards a softer, mellow one, fingers tangling in the hair that has grown a little bit on the nape of his neck. Feeling like you both were two audacious college students trying to find a space in a messy party where you both won't be interrupted.

When he halted in his steps, you assumed that he found it as he kicked it open with a firm nudge of his boot, the room beyond dim and quiet but he barely give you time to register anything else, his movements urgent and frantic as he carried you over to the bed in the middle after swiftly locking you both away. You bounced on the silk mattress as he set you down, though his intentions were grave, his actions or the way he held you was gentle, tounge swiping over his glistening lips like chasing the taste of you that made you want to give him once more.

Audacious, you were.

Your eyes on his face, shadows played along the planes, softening the hard edges of his jaw, but his gaze burned. Dark and piercing, it held you in place as if daring you to look away.

You didn’t.

Your eyes followed the sluggish movements of his hands as he reached up, his fingers deftly working the knot of his tie. The fabric slid free, whispering against the buttons of his dress shirt before he cast it aside, forgotten on the nearby chair.

Next came his jacket. He shrugged it off with practiced ease, the broad span of his shoulders rolling beneath the fabric. Your breath hitched as he discarded it, leaving him in the crisp white shirt that clung to his frame, the outline of him barely hidden.

And then his hands moved again, this time to his wrist.

You watched, mesmerized, as he undid the strap of his watch, the silver buckle catching the faint light. He pulled it free and set it down on the nightstand, the movement so fluid it felt almost rehearsed.

It wasn’t until he turned his wrist slightly that you noticed it—the worn thread of a bracelet wrapped around his wrist, faded from time and use but unmistakable.

The one you’d tied around his wrist when you were kids in an action of promise to stay friends for years to come.

But he still wore it.

He still wore it.

Your fingers twitched against the bedspread, the urge to reach out and touch him almost overwhelming.

And as if understanding your anticipation, he soon followed you down, your breath catching as he hovered above you. You waited for him to kiss you again because god help you, you liked a little too much but he only pressed a chaste one, smirking subtly at the pout that subconsciously formed on your lips that soon parted in a gasp when he started to suck on your neck again, this time with the intention to claim the spot with the scrape of his teeth.

He hummed against your skin, the sound deep and satisfied, before he drew your flesh into his mouth again, harder this time. The sharp pull sent a jolt of pleasure-pain coursing through you, thighs clenching together.

"My angel." he said softly, yet nothing was soft about the way he pulled down on the straps of your dress. The fabric slipped, baring the smooth skin of your shoulder, and he pressed his lips there, warm and firm, before trailing lower, his mouth following the path he’d just uncovered. "My undoing."

The red fabric gathered at your arms as he pushed it further, exposing the tops of your collarbones and the swell of your chest. His gaze flicked up to meet yours then, dark and questioning, seeking permission even though his hands were steady, his intention clear.

You nodded, perhaps with too much enthusiasm and earned a chuckle from him that you were sure was the reason for the wetness pooling between your legs.

You had missed that sound. You had missed him.

And he was hell bent on making up for lost time as he dived face first into your chest, humming again when he took in your pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling his tounge around the roundness of you.

"Oh shit." Your back arched, hands finding their way to his hair again. Pulling and tugging. Urging him on until his hand was fondling the other, abandoned tit. Squeezing under his rough palms that made the heat lowering your stomach worse—all of it felt too much, too soon. And yet, it wasn’t enough.

It had been so long.

Too long since someone had touched you like this, with a reverence that made you feel seen, whole, wanted.

You told yourself it was natural, that anyone in your position would respond this way. That it wasn’t about him—it couldn’t be. But your body betrayed you before your mind could even catch up. Your legs wrapped around his waist once more as you ground yourself against him. Against the print of his bulging length you could feel pulsing against you.

"Fuck yeah.." You cursed low, head falling back on the pillows and Jungkook looked up, his own cock twitching at the sight of you, at the feel of you. Of everything he has ever wanted. Of everything he thought he would never have. But here you were straight from his flithest wet dream that would have him taking more cold showers that he could keep count of.

A goddamn miracle for him, this wasn't a dream.

"This here needs some attention too, hmm?" He rasped, hands slipping down from the curve of your waist, to bunch up your dress to your hips. Wasting no time in finding the wet mess you made of your panties. "Look at this." He grunted, hand cupping your clothed mound. "So wet."

You exhaled out like you'd been freed from shackles that felt too heavy and a whimper followed right after when he disposed you of them, exposing your deprived cunt to the cold air that had you clenching around nothing. "And so fucking responsive." He breathed against your bare sex after moving his head down.

You hadn’t expected that. You breath was bated, cheeks were flushed and heart was pounding at the view alone of his face between your thighs.

Then again, he was all about surprising you today.

Though, it didn't make it any less overwhelming.

The way his hands gripped your thighs, firm yet careful, as if he were both anchoring you and holding himself back. His fingers dug into your skin just enough to leave the faintest imprint, a reminder of where he had been, where he was. Your legs draped over his shoulders, trembling with a mix of anticipation and disbelief, as though your body was still catching up to the reality of this moment.

Never in your wildest dreams, it would have come to this. Come to Jungkook licking a greedy strip up from your folds.

"Jungkook—oh God!" You gasped and he groaned, feeling all of his restraint and the plan to savor this, to savor you, slip away from his tightening hands. One taste of you and he wanted to grasp every drop of like it would be his last.

And so he did.

Burying his face in your wanting pussy like a man with purpose, he lapped. His mouth wrapped around your clit, tounge swiping and licking with a reverence because you were something sacred, something he had put on a pedestal so high, others in his life barely mattered.

"Oh- mhm. Feels so good!" You moan out, mind in a haze of pure fog and he takes it as his cue to plunge his digit inside your dripping core. You're sure you've got no mind now. Grunts of his own leaving him at the thought of your heat wrapping around his aching cock instead.

He felt no shame in that. No shame in what he was doing right now. Because then you moved, your body arching toward him as if to erase every doubt. Your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging as selfishly as he fed on you, flatenning his tounge on your slit to take all he can get, to give you all he can.

A shaky exhale brushing against your folds. The sound was low, guttural, and filled with more longing than he knew how to contain. "Does it, baby? Sweet pussy's feeling good?" His fingers—knuckles deep now—worked you faster, curling and testing ways to get you closer to the edge.

This was more desire that he knew he was possible of as his hips started to rut on their own, seeking friction in a way that was both instinctual and helpless. Brain flat lining. Face drowned in the essence of you. Desperate, as you pulled on his hair. Pathetic, as he chased his own high from just the taste of you, from just how you enveloped his curving fingers. Ecastic, when you finally reached your breaking point from how he alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks, making you come all over his mouth that kindles his face, that he swallow all because he refuses to let anything go to waste.

"Ah fuck—Oh lord!" You fingers tear in his scalp and hips bucked against his face, eyes rolling back until they whitened.

Oh.

Oh.

It was in this moment, with your thighs braced against his shoulders and his name spilling from her lips, that Jungkook knew.

He would never be the same again.

That he too would be coming in his pants like a high school boy.

It wasn’t enough—nothing would ever be enough—but it was all he had, and it drove him to the edge faster than he would’ve liked to admit. The tension inside him snapped before he could stop it, his body tensing and toes curling because he found everything else secondary to the sheer joy of watching you fall apart beneath him.

"Oh shit, y/n. Shit. Shit. Shit." He whimpers against your cunt, his hips finally slowing down their mindless movement. His forehead pressed against your thigh as he caught his breath. His chest heaved, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, and his entire body felt like it was vibrating, the aftershocks of his release making his muscles twitch.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and shifted slightly, pressing a kiss to your clit before leaning back up to feel another wave of release threatening to overcome him when he sees your content expression, hands loosening their grip in his raven hair, half lidded eyes meeting his own before they trail down. "Y-You.." You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t have spoken even if you tried.

A lazy smirk made it's way to his lips that caught the light before he licked whatever remnant what was left of you on his fingers.

"I'm a starved man, angel. Cut me some slack." He panted, pinching your bud in emphasis and moved back up before you could even process it, the warmth of his breath retreating, replaced by the cooler air of the room as he straightened. The absence of his lips against you left you gasping, your chest heaving, your pulse thundering in your ears or maybe it was you still riding your orgasm or maybe it was the knowledge that he came in his pants from just eating you out.

Then he was there again, his hands sliding from your thighs to the mattress on either side of you, bracketing you in like a secret he refused to let escape.

"Hi." He breathed against your forehead.

You felt a shy smile twitch on your lips. "Hi." You reply just as breathlessly.

He presses another kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah?" You couldn’t reconcile it.

How could he say things that made your cheeks flush, your body respond in ways you couldn’t control, while his lips brushed against your temple with a tenderness that felt like an apology?

How could he make you feel like you were unraveling and being held together all at once?

You wanted to know. "Mhm. Please." You mewl, hands softly going through the beautiful mess that you made of his hair.

"Please, what?" He demanded, lips on your cheek.

"Please fuck me." You whine and he bumped his nose against your face, chest rumbling from a sound so feverish that you can't help but grind against him again. Coaxing his cock back into hardness with your bare cunt against him, from the realization that you shared the insatiable urges with him.

It got his hand trembling when they reached down to unbind his belt, pushing the fabric down his hips to reveal predicament he's made of his boxers that were bounding his hard, leaking cock but hell if he had it in himself to care.

He had been bidding his time for far too long. Waited enough—longer than any man should have to wait for something that felt this inevitable, this right, this his.

Ridding himself of the last piece of clothing on him, other than the white dress shirt that flexed against his coiled muscles, he took himself In a fist, groaning when he pumped himself in one slow stroke. Eyes never leaving your wide ones like you weren’t sure if you should be impressed, intimidated, or both.

Your breath hitched audibly, and your chest rose and fell as your eyes darted from his face to the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away, couldn’t stop the thought that immediately took hold.

"You're too big." Your throat dry, and your fingers fisted the sheet beneath you, trying not too think too much about how thick he would feel down your throat. The sounds he'd make when you would lick him just right.

"And you're gonna take every inch." He said it like a statement, a prominent vein popping in his neck when he finally let go of the locked gaze and focused instead on compressing the tip of his angry, veiny cock to your slick folds.

"Won't you, angel?" He asks with a confident smirk passed your way for a second before his breath wavered again, brows scrunched together and if it wasn't for his tip nudging inside you, you'd thought him endearing.

But once his tip is actually is in, you're left with no thought. Rendered speechless, eyes falling shut when he starts to jab inch by inch.

"Dear lord—" You gasp out loud. The sheet beneath you not providing much semblance so you switch to his shoulders. And you swear, he feel him shake when he is finally all in. Closes his eyes and relishes in your heat stretching around. "Fucking hell." The sensation was overwhelming—heat and softness so consuming it felt like his mind short-circuited, every thought dissolving into static.

But you feel that its your pussy that feels like it's going to split apart any moment now that's stopping him from moving. And partly it is. "You're so..tight." He hisses out and squeezes your hips with great roughness.

"Been long since you've been fucked, eh?" He muses, dark hungry eyes devouring yours when he makes an attempt to move inside you like he was testing your limits. Your mind reels, caught between the sharpness of the initial sensation and the overwhelming desire that followed.

He felt impossibly big, like your body wasn’t prepared for the sheer intensity of him, and for a fleeting moment, doubt crept into your thoughts.

It’s been so long.

The thought came unbidden. Your body had grown used to quiet nights and cold sheets, to the impersonal hum of a vibrator and the absence of warmth.

"Been so long." You confirm, nails clawing at his shoulders, mimicking the roughness that only spurs him on. His lashes fluttered shut, his forehead drops to your shoulder and with a whine of disagreement from you, he pulls back fully just to (to your satisfaction) bury himself back to the hilt.

An unadulterated moan from you broke the silence, a sound so sweet it made him want to come right there and then again. But he'd much rather have you convulse first. Priorities.

His jaw clenched, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he started to move his hips against yours, slow and deliberate, like he needed to feel every inch of your.

Your legs tensed around his hips, pulling him closer. You couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to him, your mind a dizzy blur of heat and need and overwhelming sensation.

He pulled back again, the drag of him leaving you feeling empty, only to return with the same slow, measured thrust.

“That’s right,” he muttered, his voice rough and uneven, barely coherent through the sounds your free spilling moans and the fact that his face was buried in the crook of your shoulder. “You’re—fuck, you’re perfect.” His voice unrefined at the edges, raw with honesty and disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were really here, with him, like this.

Your hands slid down his back, clinging to the flexing muscles beneath your palms. You suddenly didn't like that his shirt was still on. Wanting to map out his bare skin with every graze of your nails. But with each thrust, pleasure sparked at the base of your spine and spread outward, your thoughts scattered like autumn leaves.

"Yeah- Oh mphm! Just like that!" He flourished in your cries of encouragement, his grip on your hips tightening, his fingers digging into your skin as he was afraid he'd lose control too soon.

And you wanted nothing more. "F-Faster! Please go faster!" His pace was unhurried but devastating, every pull and thrust deliberate, designed to drag you to the edge and keep you there, teetering. You couldn’t take that anymore.

And Jungkook couldn’t take keeping you unsatisfied. His lips found the corner of your mouth, brushing against it in a fleeting kiss before moving lower, his teeth grazing your jaw. His hands moved to your thighs, urging them higher, wrapping them around his waist as he drove into you with more force, more intent.

“taking me so well, was made for this cock.” Were made for me. he praised, his voice sounding like a backdrop to the obscene sounds his hips snapping against yours as your own body moved with his, meeting him with the same intensity, the same desperate need. "Yeah." He grunted, punctuating his words with a squeeze to your boob. "Fuck me back. Use me. Feel me."

All you could possibly do was feel him.

He felt like fire and electricity all at once, a heat that spread from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes.

“Jungkook…” you whispered again, your voice catching on the syllables when his head tipped forward, his forehead pressing against yours, his damp hair brushing your skin.

He whimpered in response, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through you, and he pistoned his cock harder, pulling a cry from your lips that you couldn’t hold back.

"I-I missed you." You can feel tears gather in your eyes again. You don't even know why. Why you're repeating what you've already admitted. Why the words feel more vulnerable now. All you know that you missed him and the coil is tightening in your stomach.

Jungkook, too feels like he will break down any moment when he stares down at you. But he’s got a impending orgasm to deliver.

He kisses your eyelids, is tempted to lick the tears that slowly make their way down to your chin but doesn't. He's not sure he'll be able to handle the taste of your despair without feeling like he has to chastise himself for ever being the reason for it.

"I know. I know." His cock thrusts with renewed vigor. "I missed you too. I missed you." He says through his gritted teeth, feeling how your walls fluttered around him.

"Gonna cum now?" He knows what your answer will be. There's a smug underline tone in his rasps that gives him away. How he takes pride in knowing that he's the one to make you release all this tension; once on his mouth; then on his cock that is pulsing with an reoccurring ache.

You can only manage to nod, lips tightly tucked between your teeth, hands scratching and marking on his once crisp shirt that is now crumpled from the fate of your hands.

"Gonna soak my cock, huh? Go ahead, baby. Go ahead and come with me." He demands, his hand slipping between you to rub tight circles against your puffy clit that is just enough to tip you over at last.

"Koo.. ah..oh god!" The name you've always called him with a fondness falls unintentionally from your lips when your walls tighten for the last time and you release all over his cock that is now stuttering with it's every thrust.

"Oh fuck. Call me that again." He all but snarls. Cock turns firmer inside your heat that hugs him. And balls screw up.

"Koo.." You whine and that's all he needs before thick ropes of white hot cum is spilling inside you, filling you to the brim. "Mhm, take it all. There's my girl. Pussy looks so good stuffed with my cum." He grinds the best his spent body can into yours that still welcomes him and fuck if that doesn't make him never want to leave.

And he doesn't, for a moment, when he collapses onto you. Just not enough to crush you under his weight. Just enough to latch his lips where ever he can find and whisper words of affection. "Could'nt fucking breathe without you." He's yet to get enough of you. This life won't suffice, he thinks. Then finally pulls out his softening cock from your slick hole with a hiss.

You too feel the loss the of the connection that had pulsed faintly between you, leaving you achingly empty.

He moved with the same carefulness, reaching for the tissues on the bedside table. The room was quiet save for your mingled breaths as he knelt beside you, his touch impossibly tender as he wiped at the inside of your thighs. You shivered under the cool press of the tissue against your skin, the sensation making you acutely aware of the aftermath—the way your body still quivered, the way your breaths still came uneven.

You stared at the ceiling while he did so, the edges of your perception blurred as you tried to silence the tingles that still hummed across the length of your legs. A reminder of how throughly he had disentangle you, how throughly his very essence had penetrated into you.

You were ruined by him.

There was no going back from this. You knew that.

What scared you was the realization that you didn’t want to.

You just didn't know how to admit that out loud where everyone and he could hear you.

Your eyes seeked out for him as if that alone could answer all your questions. He returned back against you without a question. Hands finely adjusted the strap of your dress and drew you closer to him with a soft voice, hoarse from the strain of everything he’d given you. "Come here, angel." Bundled you up in his arms and then only did he breathe out.

Your breath stayed differing. “Why do you call me that?” Your voice was curious but tentative. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

You felt his lips curve up against your temple. "You were wearing this really pretty white dress the first time I met you." he began, his voice quiet, almost wistful. “Had these frills on the sleeves. I thought you looked like an angel."

You tried to piece together the memory. “That was so long ago."

It might be understood that it takes months to fall in love but Jungkook had been falling all his life.

[yooboobies]

kim "never let them know your next move" seokjin

+ the hat TT

[achillesthv]

.•le 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗺 de 𝒫 𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨, ℳ𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗲𝘂𝗿 𝒦 ɪ ᴍ๑

[jksarchives]

1

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ᯓᡣ𐭩

❖ idealizations concerning real life relations — by @venusiangguk

jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return. | 40.9k [s, a]

❖ wishing for you — by @kookiestarlight

you and your husband decide to finally start trying for a baby. It should be easy enough, you thought. But it turns out getting pregnant is a lot harder than you expected. | 25.4k [s, f, a]

❖ visions — by @trivia-yandere

you’re convinced by your friends to go to a party and let go of the memories of your ex just for one night. unfortunately for you, jungkook doesn’t want to be let go. | 5.1k [s, a]

❖ espresso — by @joonberriess

14.6k [f, s]

❖ perfect — by @readyplayerhobi

Jungkook has always been in your life in some way, the friend that keeps coming back time after time and the one friends and family are convinced is the one for you. Yet despite so many perfect moments, it just never seems to work out between the two of you. | 13k [f, a]

❖ but we loved to young — by @jl-micasea-fics

Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed. | 10k [s, m]

❖ the blue princess and her red rose — by @cutaepatootie

After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. | 34.8k [a, f, s]

❖ rigor mortis — by @readyplayerhobi

A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city. | 28.5k [s, a, f]

❖ sweet apple biscuits — by @rosaetae

a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. | 15.5k [a]

❖ i hate you, i love you — by @jungblue

You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. | 19.4k [a, s]

❖ we can’t be friends — by @joonberriess

9.8k [a, s]

❖ do i wanna know — by @joonberriess

“Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for someone new. Now I’ve thought it through, crawlin’ back to you,”. | 19.8k [s]

❖ down bad — by @2hightocare

Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing. | series [a, s]

❖ sweet serial killer — by @explicit-tae

The city is shaken up by the sudden murders going around - all by a man who claims he is doing so in the name of justice. People are divided - those who agree with the mysterious serial killer to do what the justice system has not; and those who disagree and want him captured and sent to prison. | 12.2k [s, a]

❖ pent up stress — by @kissforyouu

? [s, f]

❖ shut up and drive — by @agustdtown1

Anyone could have predicted how bad it is to make a bet with your brother, yet you were hoping the outcome would be different. But alas, you were meant to be taught a lesson tonight; never go behind your brother’s back. | 23.7k [s, a, f]

❖ tempest — by @kooktrash

you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect. | 31k [s, a]

❖ safety net — by @pradaksj

on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. | 40k [a, f, s]

❖ rattled — by @gukslut

series [a, s, f]

❖ how long will we fall — by @jiminrings

if it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it. | 14k [a, f]

❖ sweater weather — by @mini-pretzel

You and Jeongguk have that unspoken rule; just sex, no strings attached. And it’s worked well for you for years. But lately, it’s been harder and harder to keep your feelings separate. | 14k [s, a, f]

❖ miracle of the season — by @cybrsan

Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse. | 17.2k [a, f, s]

❖ oath — by @bangtan-yeonghon

What if one day everything you ever wanted is taken away and your whole world comes crushing down? If you were to forget today, who would you be tomorrow? | series [a]

❖ pick & roll | la lakers — by @xpeachesncream

being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways. | 19.2k [s, a]

❖ when she loved me — by @jungkookstatts

How does one live when life is bound to end? | 11.2k [a, s]

❖ aim for the heart — by @writemywaytoyourheart

Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger. | series [a, f]

❖ bedeviled — by @writemywaytoyourheart

series [a, s, f]

❖ will it fit? — by @jeonsweetpea

So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can’t exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom… | 6.7k [f, s, a]

❖ ultimatum — by @parkmuse

Your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed). | 10.3k [s, f]

❖ kaiho — by @99liners

7.1k [a, s, f]

❖ crybaby — by @lavishedinjimin

he calls you crybaby, crybaby. but you don’t fucking care. | 9.6k [s]

❖ commitment — by @eureka-its-zico

Everything seems to be going perfect in your life. Your boyfriend Jungkook is more than you could have dreamed of and there’s been a break in the case that could define your career — one of the members of the most elusive mafia, The Devils has been captured. Heading down to the precinct you couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling: Was everything too good to be true? | ? (incomplete)

❖ what was i made for? — by @spideyjimin

have you ever met someone with whom you instantly clicked? well yes, but never to the extent of how it happened with jungkook. in a matter of days, he made you feel like the prettiest and most special woman. right there and then, you understood what you were made for. | 8.8k [f, s]

❖ a lover’s bond — by @latetaektalk

what’s jungkook supposed to do when he loses you, but go beg the god of the dead and king of the underworld to give you back? | 18.7k [a, f, s]

❖ petals with luv — by @hisunshiine

Hanahaki Disease runs rampant, and Emperor Jeon Jungkook is able to change laws for common folk, but in the palace some rules are hard to change. When his Empress-to-Be arrives, your trysts must end, but when petals begin to be coughed up, someone could lose their head. Yoonstradamus has access to magical items that could cure the disease, but at what cost? Venture back into the past with this classic ‘Be careful what you wish for...’ fairytale. | 6.2k [a, f, s]

NEXT

[btsiu]

JIN ‘I'll Be There’ MV (2024)

[d-iorpjm]

✿⠀ 𝀊 ⠀𝕻𝖮𝖤𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖩𝖴𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢𝖤⠀ (⠀𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟥⠀)

[i-am-baechu]

❀˖° Title: Never Knew I Needed

❀˖°Paring: Idol! Yoongi x Introvert! Reader 

❀˖° Rating: PG - 16

❀˖° Summary: Yoongi had his life planned out for himself. Studio. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. He always knew what he needed to do or what needed to be done but it all changed on a Tuesday morning with a girl who clumsily knocked into him. 

❀˖°Genre: Fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slow-burn, reader keeps to herself, florist reader, some steamy scenes but nothing too crazy in this one

❀˖° Playlist: Never Knew I Needed - Ne-Yo

❀˖° Author's note: Second longest one shot I have ever written! When I say slow-burn, I mean it.

There’s something about the early mornings that brings this inner peace. It was quiet but not too quiet. It was cold enough to have a blanket around while you looked at the window with a cup of hot coffee waking up your soul, it was perfect. It also allowed you to plan out the day, that’s what Y/N did. She took advantage of the early mornings and got everything planned for herself. She knew of course stuff happened and something may not get done, as long as there was an attempt; That’s all that matters for her. 

She styled her hair and put her glasses on to finally get on with the day. She had a busy day today. A lot of idols ordered from her flower shop; Stardust and apparently today was one of those days that everyone needed flowers. She didn’t know why but she wasn’t going to question the business. She walked down her apartment stairwell with her music playing through her headphones. It was like any other day. 

She walked to the bus stop and smiled to herself. She took off her headphones and waved, “Good morning, Meria.” 

Meria was one of her closest friends, though she didn’t have many; Meria was top three. Meria was the star football player in their college days and was 7-2. Meria left the sport because she wanted to focus on something less focused on her limbs. Meria agreed to open Stardust with Y/N and never regretted it. 

Meria took the bun out of her mouth and waved, “Good morning~. Hazel and Nora are already at the store. They wanted help with some of the orders.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened at this and tilted her head, “They’re already there?” She glanced down at her watch and looked back at Meria, “It’s seven...that means they woke up super early.”

Meria nodded her head and took another bite of her bun, “Hazel was determined to get there before you and Nora wanted to get breakfast.” 

Y/N pouted at this, “They didn’t have to do this...I have to-”

“Y/N, shush. They wanted to help you, they love you. Don’t feel bad. Now get on this bus before I throw you onto it.” 

Meria, Hazel, and Nora were Y/N’s top three friends (and her only friends if she was going to be honest). Hazel was always keeping Meria and Nora in check with their teasing, something Y/N greatly appreciated. Hazel was also the first one to approach Y/N during their freshman year. Nora was the youngest in the group but she was also the brightest. Having an IQ of 120, she was bright but she was lazy. She barely showed up at her classes but would sleep at Y/N’s dorm as they ate breakfast together. The girls were always together, the perfect group of friends. 

Y/N nodded her head and glanced at the bus, “Can I have the window seat?”

“Of course you can, my little daydreamer.” 

On the other side of the city, Yoongi let out a loud groan. Apparently, his music file was corrupted which means his hard work was nowhere to be seen. He ran his finger through his hair and glared at the screen, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Namjoon glanced at Hoseok who just shrugged his shoulders. Namjoon walked behind Yoongi in his chair and rubbed his shoulders gently, “You should walk away for now. It’s not going to be solved if you stay mad at it. If anything, you might make things worse.” 

Yoongi sighed and took a sip of his coffee, “You want buns for breakfast?” 

Hoseok nodded his head at this, “Nora Bun’s open in a few minutes. They have really good red bean buns.” 

Yoongi stood up from his chair (with a little stretch) and put his beanie on, “Whatever will get me out of here, I don’t care where we go.” 

Hoseok scoffed at this, “Let’s go sunshine.”

Namjoon sighed and rubbed his forehead, “It’s too early for this, let’s get food.” 

Yoongi put his jacket on and glanced down at his phone, “Did you order the flowers for TXT?”

Namjoon nodded his head, “Yeah, Stardust was super busy. I just hope they’ll get here.” 

“Y/N is really good at being on time. You don’t have to worry.” 

Yoongi closed his studio door and glanced at Hoseok with a raised eyebrow, “Y/N? Who is that?”

“She’s one of the owners of Stardust. Super nice and awkward. Fun to tease.” 

Namjoon shook his head as they walked down the hall, “I tell you all the time to leave her alone.”

“Why haven’t I met her?” 

Namjoon glanced at Yoongi and shrugged his shoulders, “You never come out of your studio.” 

“Whatever, just make sure the flowers get here.” 

Y/N opened her door and smiled at her friends who were hard at work, “Good morning...thank you for coming.”

Nora was the first one to look up from her work. She gave Y/N a thumbs up, “Don’t worry. We’ll always got your back. I brought some buns from my shop here.” 

Meria put her coat up and pointed her finger at Nora, “You told me you weren’t bringing any buns so I just ate one on the way here. How could you do this to me!?”

Nora let out a small chuckle, “I brought it for Y/N, you idiot.” 

“Idiot!?”

Hazel snapped her fingers and glared at the two, “Yah! This isn’t why we came early, Nora.” Hazel turned towards Y/N and gave her a soft smile. She walked towards the shorter girl and gave her a small hug, “Good morning, Y/N. Would you like some red bean buns?”

Y/N nodded her head, “That sounds wonderful...” 

After breakfast, Y/N put on her apron and got to work. She let the soft jazz play through her store and she ignored the bickering between Nora and Meria. Y/N smiled to herself and looked down at the paperwork, “These bouquets go to Hybe for TXT. It says Kim Namjoon ordered it, Meria, can you take this order?” 

Meria nodded her head, “You don’t want to see Hoseok?”

Y/N took a sip of her water and shook her head, “I have too much work.” 

Nora smirked at this and leaned forward on her table, “You don’t want him to tease you.” 

Y/N looked away and picked up the next order, “I’ll do the order for Itzy, Nora can you do this order for Aespa’s Music Core performance.” 

Nora nodded her head and took the paperwork, “Whatever you say, boss.” 

“Thank you.” 

Meria took the bouquets and smiled to herself, “Congratulations on the new release. Aww, that’s so nice.”

“Meria don’t read the note. It's private” 

Meria rolled her eyes and nodded her head, “Fine boss.” 

Hazel handed Y/N another order and grabbed her keys, “You're driving with me, Meria. Let’s go.”  

“What!? No, I promise I’ll get there-”

“Let’s go Meria.” 

Y/N gave them a small wave and continued to do the countless orders. Driving with Hazel was like driving with your mom, she would ask you how’s your day and all that. It made Meria laugh because they lived together, and Hazel knew everything. They parked in the employee parking lot and Meria groaned, “I really hate coming into this building.” 

Hazel put the parking paper on her dashboard and glanced at Meria, “Why?”

“It’s so tempting to talk to everyone. That’s why Y/N usually does it because she doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“Just don’t talk to anyone.”

“That’s so hard to dooooo~.” 

Yoongi took a sip of his coffee as Namjoon took a bite of his bun. They were walking back to Yoongi’s office when they saw the bouquets of flowers making their way towards them. Yoongi tilted his head and wondered if this was Y/N (not that he cared...). Hoseok was the first one to greet her, “Hey Meria, where’s Y/N?” 

Meria pouted at him, “She had too many orders to come down...so here I am. Hazel told me to hurry up and not talk as much.”

Namjoon let out a laugh and handed Hoseok his bun to sign for the flowers, “Tell her we said hello.” 

“I’ll do that.” Meria glanced over Namjoon’s shoulder and saw Yoongi, “Hey you're the cat in BTS.” 

Yoongi felt his eye twitch and he raised his eyebrow, “Cat? The hell?” 

“Yeah, people say you're a cat. I don’t know what the internet says. Little meow meow or something like that. ”

“Don’t call me that. Why would you-”

Meria took the clipboard and smiled at Namjoon, “Thank you Mr. Kim. Hazel is texting me and she scares me. Have a good day!~” 

Yoongi watched the girl leave and shook his head, “Little meow meow...what the hell.”

“Just get back into your studio before you fight someone else.”

“Don’t tempt me.” 

Y/N was walking to her bus stop after the long day she had. She had around 120 orders to fulfill and she couldn’t believe that she got all of them done in a timely manner. She put on her headphones and waited for her bus. She looked up to the moon and gave it a soft smile. The moon was warm even though to others it was cold, the moon was Y/N’s favorite after a long night. She swiped her keychain and headed towards the back in the small corner that she loved oh so much. She told Meria that she didn’t want to go out for dinner, instead, she wanted to go home to her cat, Tuna, and have some tea. Meria understood that Y/N needed to unwind and didn’t push her. 

She stared outside as the streetlights shined against her skin. She watched groups of people walking on the sidewalk and she smiled to herself. She watched one group of guys laughing and pushing each other while one rolled his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel envious of their energy but she shook her head and glanced down at her phone. 

Yoongi glared at Taehyung and sighed, “Yah, can you walk properly? We’re in public.”

Taehyung pouted and stopped himself from pushing Jungkook, “Jungkook pushed me first. Why do you always let him do what he wants?” 

“Just keep walking.” 

Yoongi glanced at the bus next to them and he couldn't help but squint his eyes towards the silver vehicle. He wasn’t sure why but there was something about it, “Hyung! Are you coming?”

He glanced at Taehyung and nodded his head, “I-I’m coming.” 

Y/N tossed her bag on the hook and made her way to her couch. She plopped herself into the dark purple fabric and closed her eyes. It wasn’t until she felt the soft hairs against her fingers that she opened them. She petted Tuna and smiled, “I’m home.” She glanced at the window and her smile faltered a bit, “I’m home...” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Hazel loved her job. She really did but sometimes it becomes too much. That’s why she asked the one person who would listen to her rant, Y/N. The Hybe building was like a castle that was beautiful on the outside but boy did it feel like a prison on the inside. Hazel ran her finger through her hair and took a deep breath. She went to the cafe downstairs ignoring her coworker's glances. She sat in the far corner and swiped through her phone. 

Y/N entered the building and looked around. It was clear that Y/N didn’t belong here. She made her way through the busy entrance and entered Hazel’s code into the building (it also made it easier that the front desk knew her). She quickly made her way to the cafe and ignored the pit in her stomach. It felt like all eyes were on her because it was clear she didn’t belong there. She saw Hazel in the corner and made her way to her. Y/N poked her shoulder and gave her a small wave, “I’m here.”

Hazel gave her a smile and stood up to give her a hug, “Thank you for making time for me. I appreciate it.” 

Y/N nodded her head and sat in the chair, “I was worried. You usually don’t sound that distraught.” 

Hazel sat back and sighed, “It’s so busy this time of year. Everyone is making their comebacks and they want me to try to schedule everything by next Thursday.”

Y/N frowned at this, “Isn’t that asking too much?”

“That’s what I’m saying...ugh. I don’t know what to do.”

Y/N bit her lip and glanced down at her fingers, “I could always help...”

“What was that Y/N?”

Y/N slowly looked up and gave her a soft smile, “I could always come and help...the store isn’t busy this week and Meria has the store under control. If you want?” 

Hazel gave her a soft smile and placed her hand on top of Y/N’s, “You would help me?” 

Y/N nodded her head, “I don’t like seeing you in such distress.” 

Hazel smiled and clapped her hands, “Thank you Y/N. Let me buy you a muffin.” 

Y/N watched Hazel jump out of her seat and she sat there blinking her eyes. She let out a small sigh, “What did I get myself into?” 

“What the hell did I get myself into?” Yoongi glared at the screen while Jin gave him a proud smile next to him. Jin pointed at the screen and Yoongi had to stop himself from smacking it, “I fixed some of the melody for you.” 

Yoongi glanced at Jin and then back at the screen, “This is completely different. When I asked for help this isn’t what I wanted.”

Jin crossed his arms over his chest, “I helped you. You could say thank you.”

Yoongi sighed and took a sip of his coffee, “Thanks...”

“That doesn’t sound convincing-”

“Hyung, leave him alone.”

Yoongi turned in his chair and looked at Namjoon who was giving him a worried look, “At least someone has some sense.” 

“Yah! I helped you!” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “We have a meeting, let’s go.”

“Do I have-”

“Yes, now let’s go.” 

Yoongi sighed and slowly stood up from his chair, “Fine. Who is it with?”

“It’s with Hazel. She wants to talk about scheduling.” 

Jin stretched his body and nodded his head, “We just had our comeback, what more do they want?” 

“Just go to the meeting before she yells at me. She’s scary.” 

Y/N took a small bite of her cookie and listened to Hazel rant. It wasn’t until Hazel’s phone buzzed. She flipped her phone over and cursed under her breath, “I have a meeting in ten minutes. I gotta go, thank you again Y/N. It means the world to me.”  

Y/N nodded her head, “I’m glad I can help...” 

“I’ll see you tonight at dinner?”

Y/N bit her lip and looked away, “Maybe.”

“Just let us know, okay? We miss you but we get it, bye, bye.” 

Y/N watched Hazel leave and when she was truly gone, Y/N looked through the window. I wonder what Tuna is doing...

Yoongi sat in the meeting room waiting for Hazel. He was just going through his phone but stopped when the door opened. Hazel gave them an apologetic smile, “I’m so sorry I was having breakfast with my friend.” 

Hoseok's ears perked up at this, “Was it with Y/N?”

Hazel sat down and nodded her head, “Yes it was, and no, you can’t talk to her.”

Jimin pouted at this, “Why can’t we talk to her?”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this, “You know her too?”

Jimin leaned forward and nodded his head at Yoongi, “Yeah, Y/N always sends us flowers during promotion. She’s super nice.”

Yoongi nodded his head at this, Am I the only one that doesn’t know her? That’s annoying...

Hazel rolled her eyes and opened her folder, “Let’s begin.”

Y/N walked down the street and entered Nora’s restaurant. She knew it wasn’t going to be busy because it was after the breakfast rush and lunchtime doesn’t start until one o'clock, so she had time to talk to Nora. She knocked on her office and there was no answer. Y/N opened the door to see Nora leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed. Y/N shook her head at this but couldn’t help but laugh, “Neh, Nora.”

Nora opened her eyes and gave Y/N a lopsided smile, “Ello, what brings you to my shop?”

Y/N sat in the chair and looked at the dark wood in front of her, “Hazel said you guys missed me at dinner…”

Nora sat up for this and let out a nervous laugh, “We do but you know…we don’t want to force you. If you go tonight, Hazel is paying.”

Y/N bit her together and played with her fingers, “I’m sorry…I didn’t realize that I was-”

“Y/N, we get it. Don’t put pressure on yourself just to make us happy. It won’t make you happy.”

Y/N nodded her head, does it make me happy to stay inside all day and night? I don’t even know if that’s healthy. Y/N glanced down at the picture framed and smiled, it was a picture of them in college. It was right after one of Meria’s games and Nora had a camera. She said she needed prove to her family that she had friends and was normal. She missed her friends but she couldn’t help the pit in her stomach from the outside world. It wasn’t fair to her nor to them.

She smiled at Nora, “Where are we having dinner?” 

The rain was peaceful, it created a melody that either put you to sleep or put panic into your mind. Yoongi continued to flip his pen between his fingers as he stared at the blank pages. Nothing. He thought the rain would help him come up with something but this time around, he got nothing. He finally fixed the melody that was corrupted and he thought it was time to create a new song. Obviously, he thought wrong. 

He stood up and left his studio. He walked down the empty hallways until he saw Jungkook walking towards him, “Hyung, do you want to come with me?”

“Where?”

“To Stardust. I have to pick a bouquet for my mom.”   

Stardust. That’s where… “Sure, I’ll go with you.” Curiosity was going to kill this cat, that was for sure. 

Stardust was everything Yoongi expected it to be. It was a light pink store with flowers through the window and door. The smell of fresh roses took over all his senses. They walked through the door and Jungkook waved his hand at the girl at the register, “That’s Meria, she’s great. She’s one of the owners of this place.”

Yoongi nodded his head at the new information and walked further into the store. He glanced around to see countless bouquets and balloons. It was so colorful that it would make Hoseok look black and white. 

“Ah, took your ass long enough.”

Jungkook pouted at her and rolled her eyes, “I just got your text.”

“So, I told you last night too.” Meria looked over his shoulders and smiled, “Hey, meow meow.”

Yoongi felt his eye twitch at this but gave her a polite smile, “My name is Yoongi.”

“No, I like meow meow. Kook, your bouquet was made by the one and only me.” 

Jungkook gave her a shy smile and Yoongi noticed the little redness in his cheek but didn’t say anything. Jungkook signed some paperwork and when he finished he looked around, “Where’s Y/N?”

This caused Yoongi to look around and Meria shrugged her shoulders, “She told me she needed to help Hazel with something and I don’t know what.”

Yoongi glanced at Meria, “Hazel? She’s with Hazel?”

Meria raised her eyebrow and slowly nodded her head, “Yes? Why?”

Yoongi let out a small cough and shrugged his shoulders, “Just asking.” 

Meria gave him a suspicious look but nodded her head, “Right, Jungkook follow me please~.” 

Yoongi watched the two leave and he made his way to the purple lilacs. They were shining so bright under the light and he couldn’t help but wonder about Y/N. She clouded his mind even though he had never met her. For once he didn’t want to stay in his studio. He was going to meet Y/N, no matter what. 

Y/N looked through the paperwork and glanced at Hazel who was stressed. It was Monday afternoon and even though they got most of it done there was still so much to get done. After four days of staying up, Hazel could finally see a dent in her work. Y/N frowned at her friend and gently took the folder out of her hands, “Hazel…maybe you should get something to eat.”

Hazel let out a sigh and nodded her head, “I do crave chocolate.” 

Y/N smiled at this and stood up, “I’ll get you some chocolate chip cookies from the cafe. It’ll make you feel better.” 

“Thank you Y/N, I appreciate it.”

Y/N smiled at this and grabbed her wallet and was off. She walked through the empty walls with awkwardness because she still didn’t know where to go. She walked down the stairs and took a sharp turn. She hit someone’s chest and she couldn’t help but gasp. She slowly looked up and she felt like a mouse.

“Y/N?” Hoseok gave her his signature smile and patted her head, “What are you doing here so late?”

Y/N glanced down at her shoes and then back at him, “I’m helping Hazel..”

“Oh, with scheduling? I knew she was having a hard time because she asked us directly what we wanted.”

Y/N nodded her head at this, “She overworking…I was going to get her some chocolate chip cookies from the cafe. I-I was wondering if you could-”

“I’ll help you, I’ll be your guiding light.” 

Y/N glanced down and saw Hoseok's arm was still around her waist. Y/N shimmed out of his gasp and bowed her head, “Thank you. I could buy you something if you want.”

“Nope, I won’t let you buy me anything. Now follow me.” 

They walked through the empty building and Y/N felt like she was in kindergarten following the teacher with rope. Hoseok opened the door and Y/N tilted her head, “Where are we?” 

“In the back room of the cafe. I’ll get you those cookies for free.”

Y/N shook her head, “I-I can’t do that. It’s not right.”

“Y/N it’s fine.” 

Y/N shook her head, “Let me buy…please.” 

Hoseok sighed and nodded his head, “Fine.” Hoseok grabbed three cookies and glanced down at her, “These would taste so good if they were free.”

“They’re going to taste better paid.”

Y/N walked through the halls with Hoseok and he was talking about the upcoming comeback. She listened and she couldn’t help but smile at his excitement. Hoseok tilted his head at her, “You know you remind me of someone.” 

“Who?”

“Yoongi. You guys are very similar.”

“Yoongi? Is he the cat one?”

Hoseok let out a loud laugh and patted her back, “That made my night.”

She looked at him with a confused look but slowly nodded her head, “You're welcome?” 

Yoongi let out a sneeze and Jin raised his eyebrow, “Someone is talking about you.”

“Shut up with that myth. It’s not real.”

Jin shrugged his shoulders, “Fine be a Debbie downer.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and continued to look through his files. He couldn’t help but wonder who was talking about him (not that he cared…).

“Meria, can you please help my cousin with football? He won’t leave me alone.” 

Another dinner and Y/N nervously accepted it. It was the second dinner in a row that she went and it was Hazel’s choice this time. Hazel picked the ramen place near her work in case she had an emergency meeting. 

Meria slurped up her noodles and looked at Hazel, “Doesn’t he have a team to do that?”

Hazel played with her noodles and shook her head, “Half of his team has their own private coaches to help them out. Every time he asks they ask him why don’t you have a private coach.” 

Meria sighed, “I can make time.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” 

Y/N took a sip of her water and glanced at Hazel, “Have you met Yoongi?”

Hazel raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Yeah, why?”

Meria glanced at Nora and had a mischievous smile, “I know Yoongi was looking for you the other day.”

Nora smirked at this and looked at Y/N, “Oh? Interesting.”

Y/N felt her face get hot and looked away, “I never met him…I was just asking.”

Hazel gave her a gentle smile, “He’s kind of like you but more blunt.”

Meria leaned back in her chair with a smirk, “Maybe you’ll guys meet and fall in love.”

Hazel kicked her shin under the table and looked back at Y/N, “Maybe you'll meet when you're over helping me out.” 

“Maybe..”

Tuesday mornings were always difficult for Y/N. It was the day when she went to therapy and talked about her problems. She loved her friends but she just didn’t know how to tell them how she was feeling. She knew they were all ears but she didn’t want to burden them with her problems. So she was paying someone to listen to her and it made her feel less guilty. Problem solve. 

She took a sip of her tea and headed into the Hybe building. She had her headphones playing comforting music as she made her way to Hazel’s office. As she made her way through the crowd of people, on the other side Yoongi was walking with Hoseok to the cafe. 

“I’m just glad you're finally taking a break.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “I was craving something.”

“Like what? Pure caffeine?” 

“Actually no, I wanted the chocolate chip cookies.” 

Hoseok raised his eyebrow and let out a chuckle, “Yesterday, Y/N wanted the same ones.” 

Yoongi stopped in his tracks and looked at Hoseok with wide eyes, “Y/N?”

Hoseok stopped and turned towards him, “Yeah, she was here helping Hazel.” 

“You took her to get cookies?” 

Hoseok nodded his head, “Yeah, she wanted to get some cookies for Hazel because she was working really hard.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and started walking, “That’s nice of her.”

“Why?”

“No reason.” 

Y/N entered the office and gave Hazel a small wave, “Good morning.” 

Hazel looked up from her papers and smiled, “Hey, can you do me a favor?”

Y/N put her bag down on the floor and looked at Hazel, “Sure?”

“I ordered some muffins in the cafe downstairs. Can you pick them up for me?”

Y/N put her arm back into her jacket sleeve and nodded her head, “Under your name?”

“Yes, thank you. I wanted to get you that chocolate muffin you like so much.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back.” 

Y/N went back out and made her way through the busy hallways. She liked it better when there were fewer people, it was easier to navigate. Y/N walked down the stairs as her music played through her white headphones. She made a sharp turn and she hit someone’s chest. She blinked her eyes and slowly looked up to see dark brown eyes already looking at her, “Oh, Y/N, Hey.”

She looked to the side and saw Hoseok giving her a small smile. She slowly turned her head and quickly backed away with a bow, “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi looked Y/N up and down, honestly, he didn’t know what he expected. She was dressed in all black (besides her headphones) but her glasses were light pink. She kept averting her eyes away and he couldn’t help but tilt his head at her. She had this comforting aura and he wanted to learn more about her. She seemed mysterious but at the same time an open book. He could tell right away that she had social anxiety just with the way she was standing but he couldn’t read her eyes. He wanted to read her, he wanted to understand her. She gave him an awkward bow and said sorry again before making her way to the cafe. Yoongi turned his body to watch her and Hoseok couldn’t help but smirk at his friend, “You met Y/N.” 

“Ye-Yeah, I met Y/N.” Yoongi let out a small cough and turned around to quickly walk off before Hoseok said anything else. He knew this session was going to be long. 

Yoongi continued to stare at his screen and he couldn’t come up with anything. He wouldn’t say it was writer's block, it was more like he was distracted. His mind went back to Y/N. Meeting her last week has really put him in a weird place. He only knew her name and he barely said two words to her. He closed his document and glanced down at his phone, 13:14. He has time to make a visit. 

He grabbed his keys and headed out with his mask and all. He parked his car on the side and he went inside Stardust. He walked in but it wasn’t the peaceful sight that he walked into before. Y/N was getting berated by someone and he couldn’t help but glare, “Oi, leave her alone.” 

The girl turned around and scoffed, “She shouldn’t be working in an industry if she can’t talk.”

“Well maybe if you clean your ears you can hear her.” Y/N smiled at this and she looked at shoes. Yoongi glanced at her when she did this and he felt his chest get lighter. Yoongi looked back at the girl and crossed his arms over his chest, “Are we done here?”

The girl scoffed at this and walked out but she made sure her shoulder bumped into Yoongis. He rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle when the door closed. Y/N looked up and gave him a small smile, “Sorry about that.”

Yoongi shook his head and walked closer to her, “You shouldn’t be sorry for someone else's actions.” 

“Still...”

Yoongi pulled down his mask and gave her a small smile, “I didn’t introduce myself last time...I’m Yoongi.”

Y/N looked into his brown eyes and then at her flowers, “I know...meow meow, right?”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “Yeah, meow meow. You already know me?” It’s cute when she calls me that. 

Y/N looked back at him and nodded her head, “It’s hard not to notice you. You’re the one that sets the team in motion with your lyrics...especially with your skills at conveying emotions...”

“You...you noticed all of that?” 

She nodded her head and looked down at her flowers. Despite the cold air from the AC, Y/N felt her cheeks begin to burn and she had to look away from his dark curious eyes. Throughout her final days at helping Hazel, she kept asking about Yoongi. Ever since Hoseok said she was like Yoongi she couldn’t help but be curious. All the stories that were told to her made her feel like an expert at knowing him but at the same time an amateur, “Well, you and the rest of the guys are kind of...kind of everywhere.” Y/N stammered out and she couldn’t help but play with her fingers, “I hear your music every day and it’s comforting-”

“You think my music is comforting?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

It was Yoongi’s turn to feel the heat from his face and he was thankful he wasn’t standing under the light. He rubbed his neck, “Th-Thanks.”

Y/N let out a cough and turned towards her flowers as she went through some paperwork, “Sorry...I talk too much.”

“I don’t think so.” 

Y/N glanced at Yoongi over her shoulder and then back at her paper, “Did you have an order to pick up?”

Yoongi cursed under his breath, he didn’t think he would get this far with talking to her. Yoongi looked up at the ceiling and then back at her, “No, I just wanted to introduce myself to you. I felt bad I didn’t do it on that day and I’ve been thinking about-sorry I’m talking too much.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, “I don’t think so..”

Yoongi stared at her face when he saw her laugh and in this moment he was undeniably happier (he wasn’t going to tell anyone that...) 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“I heard you met Yoongi.”

Y/N eyes widened and she dropped the flowers onto the table. She let out a small cough as she picked them up trying to act like nothing happened, “I told you I went to get pizza after closing the shop early and then I went to Tuna's vet appointment.” 

Meria pursed her lips and glanced at Hazel who was avoiding eye contact (she didn’t want to get ratted out), “That’s strange because an office lady that works god-forsaken hours saw Yoongi coming back with a small vase of flowers without any of his members around to annoy the peace.” 

Y/N picked up the bouquet and hid her face, “I may have left out some details.” 

Nora dropped her scissors, “What happened? The one time we didn’t come and help.”

“It’s not what you think...”

“Well it sounds like it was a good conversation” Meria joked as she walked towards Y/N’s table, “What happened? Pleaseeeeee telllll usss!~” 

“This was an angry customer...” Y/N placed the bouquet back on the table and stared at the dark wood, “She was mad that my voice wasn’t loud and started to go off on me. Yoongi came and told the girl off, making her leave. We talked for a little bit before I had to get food and take Tuna to her appointment.” 

“Wait...your appointment was at 15:00. You talked for two hours?” 

Y/N shook her head at Meria, “I told you to stop going through the logs.”

“I’m nosy. That shouldn’t be a crime.” 

Hazel scrunched her face at this, “It’s a crime.”

Nora rolled her eyes at this, “We’re getting off track.”

“There’s nothing more to talk about. Yoongi came in and told that girl off...he bought some flowers. End of story.” 

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. When he came into my office afterward, that was the most I’ve seen him smiling without his members.” 

Meria snorted and looked at Y/N, “You heard that.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes (with her face feeling hot) and went through the paperwork, “No, I didn’t.” 

Nora looked at Meria and then back at Hazel, “Should we go through the video to find the girl.”

“Nora, you’re not going through my security tape to find the girl. The three of you give me a headache.”

Hazel smiled at this, “You’re welcome.” 

Y/N couldn’t stop herself from smiling and shook her head, “Thanks.” 

Three times a week, Y/N was at Hybe’s office helping Hazel with extra paperwork. Her office may be small but it was cozy with all her plants around. The new paperwork was on the business side and Hazel asked Y/N if she could help (since Y/N had a business degree). Y/N agreed because it got out of the flower shop and Meria asked her to take a break from the shop. She’s taking a break from her job just to be working another job. Sounds about right. She should be taking a break with her cat but she finds going through paperwork relaxing. 

Y/N handed Hazel a stack of paper and smiled, “I finished another pile.” 

Hazel smiled at this, “At this point, you should just work here.”

Y/N shook her head, “I just like helping you. I’m going to get some tea, do you want anything?”

“I’m good.” 

Y/N made her way to the cafe and sat in the back with her tea as she went through her music. She closed her eyes as she waited for her tea to cool down a bit. She let her music take her to her daydreams. Just as Y/N was doing this, Yoongi walked into the cafe with Jin talking his ear off. Y/N passed the tables but he noticed Y/N in the back and he turned away from Jin to glance at her. He turned away quickly because he didn’t want to hear Jin’s teasing. They stood in line and nodded their head at Jin but Yoongi couldn’t help himself to glance at Y/N. 

Jin stopped talking when he saw that Yoongi wasn’t paying attention and followed his eyes. It all clicked when he saw Y/N. He heard the story from Jungkook and Hazel about his interaction with Y/N at her flower shop the other week. It was rare to hear Yoongi getting flushed with a compliment. Usually, he would play cool with them but to get flushed, never. 

Y/N looked up and saw Yoongi looking at her. She gave him a soft smile and a small wave. Yoongi straightened up his back and gave her a small nod. Jin smiled and at that moment he found himself almost glad that Yoongi liked Y/N. (Not that he would admit but Jin knew all...obviously). 

Y/N picked up her tea and made her way to Yoongi. She smiled at him, “Hazel told me you have a performance coming up.”

“Yeah, I’m excited. It’s been a while since we performed.”

Y/N glanced down and then back at Yoongi. She gestured for Yoongi to lean in closer and he blinked his eyes in confusion before he obliged. Y/N tilted her head to whisper in his ear, “I know this is biased but...I think you’ll be the best performer there.” Her hair whipped around her as she turned away from Yoongi and before she could walk away from Yoongi, she glanced at him, “Good luck.”

Yoongi watched her leave the cafe and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Jin rolled his eyes and let out a small cough, “Do you want coffee or not loverboy?”

“Shut up.”

The next day, Yoongi made his way to the cafe to see Y/N with her tea. Yoongi rubbed his hands against his jeans and took a deep breath. Y/N took a bite of her cake and looked up when she heard footsteps. She took off her headphones and smiled at Yoongi, “Hey.”

Yoongi waved and pulled the chair out to sit in front of her, “Weird question...are you good with computers?”

Y/N tilted her head and nodded her head, “It depends. What's up?”  

“Just having issues with saving.”

“I can take a look but I can’t promise anything.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

They walked back to his studio and the two made small talk. She was telling him about her cat and he was telling her how he wanted to adopt a cat. A black cat to be specific. She looked down at his doormat and laughed, “That’s very you.”

Yoongi smiled to himself as he entered the code, “It was mostly towards Jimin and Taehyung.” 

“I’m sure they got the message.” 

He closed the door and Y/N looked around. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but seeing real machines that make music left her in awe. She didn’t even know what they were called. She stood awkwardly and Yoongi spun the chair for her to sit. She gave him a small smile and sat in the black chair. She pushed herself near the computer and glanced up at him, “What did you want me to look at?”

“My music file...It was corrupted and I was wondering if you could help me. Hazel said you were good with computers.” 

Y/N shook her head at this and placed her hand on his mouse, “I wouldn’t say good...tolerable would be better.”  

Yoongi took another chair and sat next to her, “I would say good.”

“You haven’t even seen me work on computers.” 

“So, I just know it's going to be good because of you.”

Y/N felt her face turn hot but she shook her head and faced the computer, “I’ll try my best.” 

Y/N went through his computer and it wasn’t until she felt his hand on top of her other hand. She wanted to glance down but she knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stay in the room with him. After twenty minutes, she figured it out. Yoongi moved his hand and she turned towards him with a smile, “I figured it out.” 

Yoongi smiled at her and looked at the screen, “Thanks, I’ve been having trouble with this stupid thing.”

“I’m happy I was able to help you. I have to go, Hazel’s texting me.”

Yoongi stood up and put his hands in his pocket, “Yeah, go ahead. Thanks for helping. I really appreciate it.”

Y/N looked away from his brown eyes because she felt like if she looked at him, she would steam up. She nodded her head and gave him a small wave as she closed the door, she didn’t hear the footsteps. 

“What did Yoongi need?”

Y/N jumped slightly and placed her hand over her heart. She turned to see Namjoon with a curious look, “He had trouble saving this corrupt file...I helped him.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow at this, “Corrupt file? Yoongi fixed that a while ago.”

Y/N felt her body get hotter and she slowly nodded her head, “Oh? I-I’m glad I could help.” 

Hazel had snuck the girls into the after-party of BTS performance in the Hybe building, but the energy in the room was so excitable that no one even noticed them. The soju and beer was flowing and Y/N noticed some younger trainers enjoying the loudness. Y/N took a sip of her water and let out a small laugh when Jimin told her the story about Jungkook the other day at the gym. She leaned her tired head on Nora’s shoulder as she listened to all the stories being thrown at her in the small circle. 

Across the room, Yoongi stood with Hazel as he leaned against the wall with a beer. He glanced at Y/N and then at Hazel. Yoongi saw an opportunity and now that he was alone with Hazel he could ask, “So...Y/N.” Yoongi began, taking a sip of his beer to calm his nerves, “Is she dating anyone?”

Hazel let out a small laugh and took a sip of her soju, “Took you long enough.” 

Yoongi whipped his head and stared at her with wide eyes, “How did you know? I thought I was being subtle.” 

“That was you being subtle? It would be successful if I was blind.” Hazel emphasized, “Namjoon told me about the file thing.” 

He felt embarrassment flow through his body, “Shut up...do...do you think I have a shot?” 

Hazel raised her eyebrow and took a sip of her soju, “Y/N is the most genuine and kind person you’ll ever meet. She tends to keep things to herself and she tries to talk to us but she stops herself. I don’t even think she realizes she does it.” 

“How do you know how she's feeling?” 

“You take the time to get to know her. Between you and me...I think you might have a shot.” With that Hazel left Yoongi to join her friends from the other side of the room. Yoongi’s eyes searched through the crowd and he stopped when he saw Y/N laughing at something Meria said. “I think you might have a shot...” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Spring flew by and before she knew it she was heading to the airport to visit family like she always did for spring. Everyone came to say their goodbyes and she was surprised the whole group had time to see her off. She was talking to Meria but her eyes kept drifting to Yoongi who was talking to Hazel. 

Her grip around Meria’s arm tightened and she looked down at her, “Nervous?”

Y/N nodded her head, “I hate going...”

“You love seeing your parents. Think of that and not the flight itself.” 

“I-I’ll try my best. I just don’t like flying.” 

Meria patted her head, “Just focus on your music or you can talk to one of us. Always here for you.”

Y/N nodded her head and she let go of Meria’s arm. She looked down at her phone and made a sharp turn but she collided with someone and nearly fell to the floor, “I’m so sorry-”

“Why is it that we’re always colliding with each other?” 

Y/N looked up and saw Yoongi giving her that smile that she only saw on Run BTS! She let out a small cough, “I can be a little oblivious but I’m usually not this clumsy.”

Yoongi chuckled at her nervous smile and helped her back to her feet, “Why did you make a turn?”

She felt embarrassment go through her body and she looked down at her shoes, “There's this cafe that has a cake that I like.”

“Oh is it that strawberry cake with champagne?” 

Y/N looked back up at him and her eyes were wide, “You remember that? I only mentioned it once.” 

“I remember what you like, don’t worry.” 

Jin looked over his shoulders and rolled his eyes, “Okay, lovebirds, Y/N you have a flight to catch.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and nodded his head towards the cafe, “Let’s get you that cake before you board.” He grabbed her hand and his other hand took her luggage. She glanced down at his hand and felt a surge of happiness through her body. She bit her lip and she softly said his name causing him to glance at her over his shoulder, “I was wondering...do you want to share your number with me so we can talk? If that’s okay.” 

They entered the cafe and he ignored the teasing smiles from the group. He looked down at Y/N and gave her his gummy smile, “Yeah, let’s get your cake first.” 

She sat on the plane and she glanced at her phone with a smile. She brought up Yoongi’s name and she took a deep breath, I just got on :) 

Not even a minute passed and she felt her phone buzzing, Text me when you get there. Get some sleep. I know you worked late last night at the flower shop. 

I will. Thanks for caring.

Always for you. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The trip to her parents was relaxing but it did feel strange not doing anything. During her time with her mom, she was taught how to knit. For someone who has never touched a needle, she was really good at it. She made everyone simple socks but for Yoongi she made him a beanie with a small Y on it. Summer was the time when Meria always had stuff planned for the group and usually Y/N would think twice about going. This year it’s different and Y/N was excited for whatever Meria planned. The summer felt slow but anything could happen with the summer sun blazing. 

“A football match?” 

Meria nodded her head and handed out jerseys from her bag, “Surprise” 

Y/N glanced at Nora who shrugged her shoulders, “I didn’t even know she could afford these tickets.”

“Yah, I have ears.”

“Unfortunately” 

Hazel put the jersey on and looked at Meria, “You do realize we have no idea what’s going on, right?”

Meria nodded her head, “My dad surprised me with these tickets and I wanted to go with my best friends.” 

“There’s a catch.”

Hazel smacked Nora’s shoulder and looked at Meria, “What’s the catch?”

Meria shook her head, “No catch, I didn’t want to go with my brothers.” 

When the group finally reached the stadium, they ended up having to climb more stairs than any of the girls anticipated. But the further they went up, Y/N ignored the ache in her thighs and focused on the excitement that was building up. 

Meria was the first to enter the box and when she looked inside she let a small snort out, “This is going to be fun.” 

Y/N looked at her with a confused look and walked in. Her eyes landed on the small group and she couldn’t fully recognize them until one of them fully turned, “Y/N?”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat when she heard Yoongi’s voice and she didn’t understand how he managed to get more attractive while she was gone. There was a small nudge on Y/N’s shoulder and she realized it was Nora who was pushing her forward because she was frozen in place. 

Y/N waved shyly at Yoongi as she made her way over to him, “I thought I was going to see you tomorrow but this is a nice surprise.”

Yoongi glanced at Hoseok to make sure he wasn’t listening, “It is. I really liked the beanie by the way.”

She looked at him with excitement, “Really? You liked it? I’m glad it got to you. It was my first time knitting and sending something out like that.”

Yoongi opened his bag and pulled out the black-knitted beanie, “I’ve been carrying it around ever since I got it.” 

Y/N felt her heartbeat get faster and she swallowed her spit, “Really? It’s not that special...”

“It's the most important part of my outfit. For every outfit.” 

Y/N let out a small laugh, “I’m glad you like it.”

“Oi, Y/N, our seats are over here.” 

Y/N turned around and saw Nora giving her that knowing smirk that she hated. She turned back to Yoongi and gave him a small wave, “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, you will.” 

The next day, Y/N saw Yoongi. He texted her to come and visit his studio and she couldn’t help contain her excitement. She looked down at the familiar rug and entered the studio. She saw Yoongi on his couch on his phone and she raised her eyebrow, “You're not on your computer?” 

Yoongi looked up and locked his phone, putting it on the coffee table, “I was waiting for you.” 

She hated the butterflies in her stomach and she tried her best to swallow some confidence. She twirled her fingers together and gave him a smile, “You said you wanted to show me something?” 

“I do.” Yoongi made his way to his desk and picked up a bag behind his monitor. He slowly turned around and gave her a sheepish smile, “Don’t make fun of me.”

She glanced down at the bag and then at him as she blinked her eyes. He nodded his head and she gently took the bag. She slowly opened the black fabric and Yoongi could hear his heart through the silent room. She took out the knit with her initials and she glanced at him with a confused look, “Did...Did you make this?”

Yoongi rubbed his neck and nodded his head, “I went to visit my mom last week and I asked her to teach me...It was a quick lesson and I know-”

“I love it.” She put the beanie on and she gave him a wide smile with her eyes closed, “I really love it.”

Yoongi has never seen her do this type of smile and he could make a beat with how loud his heart was going. Y/N opened her eyes and knew the feelings she had for Yoongi couldn’t be pushed down any longer. And that was scary. 

Later that evening, Y/N invited Nora over to finish watching Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. During the scene where Malfoy gets punched, Nora slowly turns towards Y/N on the couch, “You like Yoongi, don’t you?” 

Keeping her gaze on the screen, Y/N was quiet for a few moments before, barely above a whisper, she asked, “How did you know? 

“You're extra nervous around him and jumpy whenever you see Yoongi.” 

“Am I that obvious?” Y/N questioned in a horrified whisper as she looked away from the screen to look at Nora. 

Nora shook her head, “If you were more obvious, you would be with Yoongi at this moment.” Y/N glanced at the screen and then at her fingers as Nora continued to study her. Nora placed her hand on her thigh and gave her a comforting smile, “Why are you scared to admit you like him?”

“If I admit I have...feelings for him,” Y/N glanced at Nora, “Then he could be another person that could reject me...I can’t handle that.” 

“Trust me, if you saw the way Yoongi looks at you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” 

In Hazel’s office, she was typing away when the door was open wide. She glanced up from her paperwork and raised her eyebrow at the scene. Yoongi was with Jimin and Taehyung, it was clear Yoongi was embarrassed but she didn’t know why. 

She stopped typing and leaned back in her chair, “What the hell is going on?” 

“Tell him to ask out Y/N already.” 

“She talks about her every day and even re-read their texts. It's annoying.” 

Yoongi pushed Jimin’s arm around his shoulder and scoffed, “I don’t do that.” 

Taehyung turned towards Hazel and gave her a disbelieving look, “Hazel, he knitted her a hat.”

Hazel raised her eyebrow and let out a small laugh, “And she’s convinced that you don’t like her.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow, “What was that?” 

“Nothing, just know, you're stupid.” 

This dinner was different, Hazel invited the rest of BTS to it and Y/N was nervous and she hated the feeling of being nervous (well this was a different kind of nervous). Y/N sat at the table with Yoongi sitting next to her as she listened to the chatter around them. Yoongi glanced down at her and pushed some hair away from her face, “Deep in thought?”

Y/N looked at Yoongi and saw his dark brown eyes. Her chest started hurting and she knew she couldn’t hide her feelings for much longer. But right now, she's going to become the greatest actress in the world, “Just thinking about what I want. That’s it.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow and nodded his head, “What don’t you get that steak you like with the salad.”

He remembers... “Yeah, I was going to get that...”

Nora glanced at them and smiled. She leaned towards Hazel with a small smile, “I think it's going to happen soon.”

Hazel smacked Nora’s shoulder, “Don’t be so loud.” Hazel watched the two and how close they were getting, “But yes...I think it’s going to happen soon.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“A ball?”

Nora nodded her head in annoyance, “My father wants this grand ball for my birthday. So annoying.”

Meria glanced at Y/N and then back at Nora, “How dare he want to celebrate your birthday.” 

Y/N took a bite of her steak and shrugged her shoulders, “It could be fun...you never know.” 

Nora played with her meatball and rolled her eyes, “It’s in three days.” 

Hazel choked on her pasta, “Three days? Your birthday is literally in two months. Why three days?” 

“Complicated...” 

Y/N looked at Nora with a shy smile, “Did you invite BTS?”

Nora smirked at her and nodded her head, “Of course I did.” She glanced at Meria and gave her a small smirk, “I bet Jungkook is going to ask you.”

Meria picked up the knife and pointed at her, “I could cut you.”

Hazel flicked Meria’s forehead and looked around the restaurant in embarrassment, “You can act like that in our houses but in public, come on.” 

“She started it.” 

Nora’s family was known throughout college as the rich ones. Nora thought it was annoying to attend parties or even socializing with people with the same status. They were boring in her mind. The girls have been to her ball before but nothing like this. 

Hazel gave her a soft smile, “Was it because they forgot last year?”

Nora took a bite of her meatball, “That’s part of it.”

Meria raised her eyebrow at this, “What’s the other part?”

Y/N gently placed her hand on top of Nora’s, “You can tell us.” 

Nora sighed and nodded her head, “They're going on a cruise and I won’t see them until next year. They just told me this yesterday.”

Meria scoffed at this and shook her head, “Assholes.” 

Hazel gave her a comforting smile, “We’ll be together.” 

Nora shrugged her shoulders, “I honestly don’t care about the party. I asked for all of my favorite foods and that’s all I need. Y/N and Meria will probably have dates, so Hazel is all mine.” 

Meria rolled her eyes, “You're annoying, you know that.”

“I do.” 

Y/N bit her lip and the thought of having a date and there was one person that she wanted to be her date. Hazel caught this and smirked to herself. 

After dinner Hazel saw Yoongi going back to his studio and smiled to herself. She followed him to his office but put her bag in the middle of the door to stop it from closing. Yoongi raised his eyebrow and opened the door with his foot. His hands were already full with his notebooks because he was getting to write a song, “Hazel, what’s up?”

“I’m only doing this because I know Y/N is too terrified to do it herself. Plus, I know you're inevitably going to take her to Nora’s birthday ball.”  

“Terrified to do what?” 

“Admit she likes you.” 

Yoongi dropped his notebooks and looked at her with disbelief, “Y/N likes me?” 

“I’m not saying anything else.” 

“You barely said anything.” 

“I’ve said enough.” Hazel turned around to walk away and she knew Yoongi was following her. She turned around and looked at Yoongi with a know-it-all look, “Y/N likes you. Now do something about it, producer boy.” 

Y/N was going to her flower shop after having her late lunch. She unlocked the door and was immediately met with Meria with a suspicious look, “What did you do?”

“First of all, ouch. Second of all, follow the candles to your office.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow and looked down to see the candles that Meria was talking about. She glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows, “Is this a prank?”  

“No, I wouldn’t prank...Hazel yelled at me last time. Just follow the damn candles.” 

Y/N placed her coat on the coat hanger and did what Meria told her to do. She opened the door and saw Yoongi leaning against her desk with a nervous look. She tilted her head at him, “I’m glad it's not a prank.” 

Yoongi let out a small laugh, “I have something to ask you.”

Y/N’s brain went into overdrive but she kept a calm face to him. She couldn't give her hopes up. Yoongi reached behind him and picked up a bouquet of purple lilacs. The calm face that she tried to keep on but it disappeared when the smell of lilacs hit her nose. She slowly walked towards him and her fingertips touched the petals. Yoongi watched her fingers trace the petals, “I-uh..These are for you.” 

Y/N grinned brightly and accepted the flowers, “What’d I do to deserve these?” 

“If I name all the reasons why you deserve these flowers then we would be here for eternity.” He took a deep breath and grabbed her free hand with his gummy smile, “Would you be my date for Nora’s ball?”

Y/N stared at Yoongi with shock. She couldn’t believe that Yoongi was sitting in front of her in the first place. She placed the bouquet of flowers on her desk behind him and interlaced their fingers together tighter with a soft smile as Yoongi returned the same smile, “I would love to be your date.” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

She didn’t want to admit it but Y/N was weak at the knees every time she pictured Yoongi taking her to the ball. She felt like a girl in school when their crush asked them out (well she never had that but she watched netflix shows). She didn’t show anything to the girls but they could easily tell from the way she laughed much more and how she's more talkative, that something happened. 

Nora let her borrow her old dresses and it was the most beautiful dress that she has ever seen. It was a light blue ball gown with asymmetrical neckline with floral embroidery all around the dress. Nora has never worn it but it felt like it was made for Y/N. Hazel was brushing Y/N’s with a soft smile, “You look beautiful.” 

Y/N glanced down at the vanity and she felt the heat rise, “Thank you...you do too.” 

The girls walked out of Nora’s room and walked down her grand staircase. Sometimes seeing how rich Nora was, shocked Y/N. She watched Meria make her way to Jungkook while Nora and Hazel went towards the drinks and she was alone until she wasn’t. At the bottom of the staircase, Yoongi stared at Y/N with pure shock. He knew she was pretty and she was a cute girl but this...this was different. Her glasses matched her dress and her hair was done perfectly. Even though the staircase had a dim glow, she was the brightest light he had ever seen. He made his way to her and grabbed her hand as she glanced down at their fingers. Yoongi stared at her and let out an awkward laugh, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Y/N felt her cheeks burning so much it felt like they were on fire. She gave him a shy smile and then she looked down at her tulle skirt. 

“You look..you look beautiful.”

“You look amazing, Yoongi. I always liked you in a suit.” 

Yoongi glanced at the others in the main room and then back at Y/N, “Shall we?” 

Y/N nodded her head, “Yeah...” 

She intertwined their fingers and made their way into the main room with all their friends. The music began to play and Y/N glanced at Yoongi, “You dance all the time...are you going to show me your moves?”

Yoongi gave her a small smirk and fixed his tie in a playful manner, “I can try, Ms. L/N.”

They swayed around the room with Meria and Jungkook behind them for most of the time. At the moment, Y/N didn’t see them. She saw Yoongi and only him. They continued to dance and he twirled her around once more causing her to laugh at the gesture. This continued for four more songs and Y/N took his hand to head out of the main room. Yoongi didn’t question it because it was time with her. She made her way towards the door and gave Yoongi a small mischievous look, “There’s a good hiding place. I know.” 

They went through Nora’s parents' garden and Y/N sat next to the small pond with an abundance of flowers around them. Yoongi sat next to her and she leaned into him, “It’s peaceful here...I used to come out here all the time when I was sleeping over.”

Yoongi intertwined their fingers together and leaned his head against her, “Oh, Why?”

“I was overthinking...I couldn’t sleep because of it.”

“You tend to do that a lot...why were you overthinking?”

Y/N let out a humorless laugh and sighed, “I had a crush on this guy and...he rejected me. He was my first ever crush and he rejected me in a rude way. Not even nice and it made me feel like no one would...no one would accept me.” 

“He’s an idiot. He can’t see the bright light that you are.” 

She leaned away from Yoongi and sat up straighter giving him her full attention, “Bright light? Is that how you see me?”

“Bright light, the ending to my beginning...so much more.” Yoongi took a deep breath and he decided he was going to get over his fears, “I like you..I like you a lot, Y/N. I-I’ve felt this for a while now. I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t remember exactly when I started liking you. I just knew I liked you so much that music became my second thought. I don’t want to ruin anything-” 

Y/N cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile, “You're not ruining anything.” She whispered before pressing her lips against his. The two broke apart and Yoongi couldn’t help but let his gummy smile show up. Y/N intertwined their fingers together and she stared at his fingers, “I’m not the best at talking about my feelings...I’m trying my best to show how I feel. I like you so much Yoongi and I want to be with you.” 

“You do?”

Y/N laughed at his bashful smile and nodded, “I really do...I really do, Yoongi.” 

Yoongi leaned down and she placed his lips on hers again with the moon shining against the pond.  

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The start of Y/N’s and Yoongi’s relationship was soft and sweet (ignoring the embarrassing moments from Jimin and Hoseok the night after Nora's ball). Every time Y/N saw Yoongi, she felt a good nervous. It wasn’t like before but she was still nervous. Yoongi would show up at her flower shop and surprise her with her favorite lunch or he would come to her apartment to play with Tuna. It was the perfect pace for her and she couldn’t imagine her affection to Yoongi to deepen but it did. 

“What is this place?”

Yoongi gave her a chuckle and opened the door, “This is Hybe’s music room. This is where all the instruments are.” 

She walked up the piano and played a messy melody as Yoongi watched in awe. She turned around and looked at Yoongi, “I’m so jealous of you. The fact that you know how to play piano. I wish I had learned.”

Yoongi pulled the seat out and patted the dark wood, “Sit next to me.” Y/N did what Yoongi said and watched his skillful fingers play a melody. She watched like how a painter painted his work and Yoongi couldn't help but feel his pride spiked up. He turned towards her and grabbed her fingers, “I’ll show you how to play.” 

They played simple notes and Y/N leaned against him, “Has music always been your thing?” 

Yoongi nodded and kissed the top of her head, “I’ve always loved music...It started as rap verses I would write at school or even making random songs in my room. I guess music has always been there for me. What about you, has flowers always been your thing?” 

Y/N chuckled at this and nodded her head, “I love flowers. Each of them have different meanings and the combination of flowers can mean something...it’s so fun watching people’s minds come up with new combinations. It just shows how much they pay attention to the other person.” 

“That’s cute of you.”

Y/N shyly looked down at the ivory keys and a question came to mind, “When you asked me out with the purple lilacs...did-”

“I knew what they meant.” 

She stopped playing and turned to her side to face Yoongi, “You knew what they meant?”

“That’s why I picked them out...well I also picked them out because when I first came to your store, I saw purple lilacs under the light.” 

“When was this?” 

Yoongi pushed some hair off of her forehead, “When Jungkook needed to pick up an order. I came along...I came along because I wanted to meet you.” 

“Me-Me?

Yoongi chuckled at her reaction and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Everyone kept talking about you and I never met you. I wanted to know you but it felt like every time I tried I just missed you. Then that day when you ran into me...I met you.” 

“You never told me this.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing.”

She shook her head and cupped his face. She placed a quick kiss on his lips and smiled, “I think it’s sweet.”

“Don’t call me that. I have an image to uphold.”

She chuckled and shook her head, “Well it's a good thing that things can change for the better.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Changing my plans and being my perfect distraction. What more can I want in this world?” 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

It’s amazing how fast seasons pass when you don’t have anxiety building up. One minute it was fall and now it's winter again. Meria was finally going out with Jungkook after a wild proposal from him. Y/N helped Jungkook with the flowers but after that, it was all him. Stardust started to become busier because of the holidays and it felt like she hadn't seen Yoongi in forever. They’ve been together for seven months already and she couldn’t believe it. This was the first time she celebrated New Years with a partner, it was a good feeling. 

Y/N was finishing cleaning the shop when the door opened. She smiled because she already knew who it was. She turned around and placed the broom against the wall. She quickly made her way and wrapped her arms around Yoongi as he gave her a tight squeeze. He kissed the side of her head and smiled, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, Yoon.” He put her back down and she glanced down at her feet with shyness, “I saw your concept pictures...a suit?” 

Yoongi smirked and ran his fingers through his hair. He did it just for her because he knew how much she liked him in a suit, “You like it?” 

She slowly looked up and nodded her head, “I do...”

Yoongi wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the top of her head, “Just for you baby.” 

“Do you want to go to my apartment or do you want me to go to yours?” 

Yoongi released and thought about it, “I want to see Tuna.” 

“Sometimes I feel like you're only with me for Tuna.” 

“Maybe I am, Ms. L/N.”

Y/N smirked at this and kissed the tip of his nose, “Then I’ll tell Hazel.” 

“I was joking, don’t do that. She’s scary.” 

She finished closing up the shop and the two walked to Yoongi’s car. The drive to her apartment was filled with laughs and soft touches. When they entered her apartment, Yoongi closed the door and pushed her against the door as she laughed, “What you doing, Mr. Min?”

“Showing my beautiful girlfriend how much I love her. Is that okay?” 

Y/N leaned in to place a passionate kiss against his lips. When she leaned away, she nodded her head, “Of course it’s okay.” 

He picked her up and she let out a loud laugh as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Yoongi closed the door (making sure Tuna was outside) and gently tossed Y/N onto her soft blankets. He took off his shirt and slowly made his way to her. He towered over her and kissed her lips as if he was going to die if he didn’t. When moved away he kissed her cheek, “I need you here...always. I love you.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, this was the first time they said it. Yoongi looked at her shocked face and kissed her lips again, “You don’t have to say it back-”

“I love you so much Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi froze in his spot and glanced into her eyes, “Yeah?”

She nodded her head and cupped his face, “You made me realize I was missing something...I love you Yoongi.” She took his hand and placed it on her chest and he felt her heartbeat, “My heart beats like this for you...and only you.” 

He leaned down and kissed her again, “Do you want to?”

She knew what he was asking and kissed his neck (the sensitive spot), “Yeah...” 

He pushed her hair away from her face and smiled, “Whatever you want, baby.” 

The next morning, Y/N woke up early to feed Tuna and to make breakfast. Yoongi walked out shirtless and he saw her cooking in his shirt. He couldn’t stop his heart from beating fast. He quietly made his way towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Can you shut off the stove?

“Why?”

He ran his fingers down and she felt his cold fingertips against her stomach. She bit her lip from moaning and he kissed the side of her neck, “I wanted to take a shower with you.”

“I can have a shower...and then eat.” 

The breakfast that she was making was never finished and it stayed there until the afternoon. She blamed Yoongi for her wasting food. 

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Spring is when things are borned and Y/N experienced just that. Her Shop became plural. Stardust and Ethereal, the two light pink shops caught the eyes of anyone walking on the street. Spring time was a special time, especially the mornings. Mornings brought inner peace and it was the quiet that used to comfort her but now if she didn’t hear Yoongi’s deep voice saying good morning then the morning was ruined.  

She styled her hair and put her glasses on to get on with her day. She walked outside and said her good mornings to Tuna and the newest addition Toothless (a black cat that Yoongi begged for). She walked into the living room and plopped herself right next to Yoongi who leaned down to give her a kiss on the check, “Are you ready to go to work?” 

Y/N shook her head, “Ten more minutes. Meria can survive.” 

“Can she? She’s already texting me.” 

Y/N chuckled at this and stood up from the couch, “Fine, I guess I’ll go to work.” 

Yoongi took his keys out of his pocket and smiled at her, “I told you no more bus. You got me.”

She let out a puff of air and nodded her head, “Fine, let’s go stubborn.” 

Yoongi held her hand as they walked down her apartment stairwell while her headphones were softly in her bag. He listened to every word of her story and how busy it was today because it was the first day of spring. The countless orders from idols was nothing new but the sheer amount at both stores was new. Yoongi opened her car door and she gave him a kiss on his cheek. It was like any other day. 

He placed his hand on top of her thigh as he drove through the semi busy city, “Namjoon texted me to get my ass in the studio before he locks me up in there.” 

Y/N let out a laugh and stared through the window, “It was our date night. He knows the drill.” 

“He said, " Who would’ve thought I’m telling you to work on music.”

She turned her head and gave him an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry...am I taking you away too much?” 

“No, you should just keep me in your room forever.” 

“Is that where you want to be?”

“Honestly, anywhere with you, I’ll be perfectly fine with.” 

Y/N opened her door to Ethereal and smiled, “Good morning, Meria.” 

Meria turned around and glared at her, “You're late.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and placed her coat on the hook, “I wasn’t late and you know that.”

Nora pointed her finger at Meria, “She just came a minute ago. She was too busy with Jungkook in her-”

“Shut the fuck up Nora.”

Hazel sighed and walked up to the shorter girl and gave her small hug, “How was the ride with Yoongi?”

“Perfect.” Y/N clapped her hands together, “Okay, we have a busy day. We have multiple orders from SM and JYP. Let’s start with the biggest orders because that’s going to take us the longest.” 

Nora nodded her head, “Yes boss. I bought buns, it’s in your office.” 

“Thank you Nora.” 

Y/N put her apron on and let the soft jazz play as she ignored the bickering between Nora and Meria, “These bouquets go to Seventeen at Hybe, Hazel can you take Nora for that?” 

“Yeah-”

“I want to go to Hybe.”

Y/N looked at Meria and shook her head, “You just want to see Jungkook. No.”

Meria pouted and sat back down at her station, “Fine.”

She rolled her eyes and felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She took her phone out and she smiled when she saw Yoongi in the studio working. She never thought that his smile would bring her comfort nor would she ever experience his rare friendship. For the ending of her first beginning, Yoongi was everything she needed and more. She never knew she needed him and vice versa. 

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

She shook her head, “What was that, Meria?”

“Yoongi is here with your tea.” Y/N smiled at this and walked towards him placing a kiss on his lips, her accidental happily ever after and she was his perfect distraction.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Tag list:

@forever-atiny @wobblewobble822 @jajabro @busanbby-jjk @lynnnnnnn23 @dna-black-and-blue @amaroho @shinaely @ukndtwme

[ahn-maria]

selfie time with jin!🤳

[snowithv]

𝓲. 바다 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞

𝗏𝗈𝖼𝖾̂ 𝗏𝖾̂, 𝖾𝗎 𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗆𝗈, 𝗆𝖾𝗎 𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝗀𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗏𝗈𝖼𝖾̂ 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗋 (𓇼.) 𝖺𝗆𝖺 𝗎𝗆𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝖾𝗆 𝗌𝖾𝗎 𝗅𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗈 𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗎 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝖽𝗋𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗏𝗈𝖼𝖾̂, 𝗌𝖾 𝖣𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗋. ───── 𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘇 𝗸𝗮𝗳𝗸𝗮

𓂂 🐚 ׁ ❀

[f4iryhopie]

⠀⠀ ⠀𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾⠀⠀⠀𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅⠀⠀⠀·🔭·⠀⠀⠀𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 ㅤㅤ🕳

[o97is]

[jesssart]

Bangtan Year💜

Still can’t believe it’s now 2025, time flies… and they will be back as a group in just a few months!🥹💜

[yooboobies]

two types of people | for @rjshope

[itssunshinetoday]

~ the boyfriend pictures series

boyfriend pictures

[poeticore]