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jincapableoflove · 14 hours ago

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A Jar Full of Us | one-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook—your best friend—knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2K+

Warnings: arguments, jungkook is a jerk, misunderstandings (a lottt of it), angstttt, reader and jk are huge idiots, mutual pining, implied smut (its not too detailed so that the story maintains the emotional connectivity), romantic intimacy, tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: HERE IT ISSS! this is the longest fic ive written! tysm for all the support yall have given me in the teaser of this fic. i put out a taglist thinking no one would actually want to be a part of it but so many of yall asked to be tagged 😭 im so grateful! tysm i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writng it. lmk ur thoughts abt it after u read too <3 ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY (someone date me pls)

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the dorm, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to study.

Joy, your roommate, is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside your bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box. You pull it out carefully, as if it were a fragile secret, and place it on your lap.

A soft breath escapes you as you grab a nearby pen and a book, neatly tearing out a tiny slip of paper. The motion is second nature now. Without even thinking, you let your emotions spill onto the paper, crafting a fleeting moment into something permanent.

Tonight’s memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, “Looks kinda pretty, right?” He knew how much you loved the moon—how it fascinated you in a way you could never quite put into words. And he had remembered. Of course, he had remembered.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as you write:

Jungkook remembers the little things.

Once the ink dries, you fold the note with care and add it to the collection. The box is almost full now, brimming with countless tiny confessions—whispers of feelings you’ve never had the courage to say aloud. A hundred little moments, a hundred little thoughts, all dedicated to the boy who had unknowingly stolen your heart.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, your best friend, who always saves you the last bite of his food, even when it’s his favorite. Jungkook, who sends you blurry pictures of the moon just because he knows you love them. Jungkook, who insists on studying with you, despite his major being entirely different from yours, just so he can make sure you actually open a book instead of procrastinating.

This little tradition of yours had started as a joke. One night, after an especially soft moment where Jungkook had wordlessly placed his hoodie over your head because you were shivering, you had scribbled on a piece of paper: Jungkook is warmer than the sun.

You had smiled to yourself as you rolled up the paper and dropped it into the box. It had felt oddly nice—preserving that moment, capturing the feeling of it in something tangible. So you did it again. And again. And again.

Until, one day, you realized you had written over a hundred of them.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadn’t planned to confess.

But each tiny slip of paper holds a truth your heart refuses to say aloud.

And you're going to keep it a secret forever.

You met Jungkook almost three years ago, during freshman year. The first time you met him, he had been infuriatingly kind.

You had been struggling under the weight of a precariously tall stack of books, barely able to see over them, when suddenly, a few disappeared from the top. Startled, you looked up to see Jungkook grinning at you, effortlessly holding the books you had nearly dropped.

"You looked like you were about to tip over," he teased, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a playful huff, you had responded, "Maybe I wanted it to tip over."

Jungkook had only laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you next time," he had promised.

That night, you had written a tiny note and slipped it into your box: He wants to catch me when I fall, even without me asking.

From that moment on, your friendship grew in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first. Midnight walks and late-night study sessions became routine, pulling you closer together with every shared moment. What had started as swapping notes for the one class you had together turned into sharing secrets. Somewhere along the way, before you even realized it, Jungkook had become your favorite person.

The box was almost full now.

You had written so many things over the years, each note capturing a small piece of him, a fragment of your feelings. Some were simple observations:

Jungkook frowns when he eats something delicious.

His hair is always a mess in the mornings. He hates it, but I love it.

His eyes smile before his lips do.

But one night, you had written something different. Something deeper. Something that felt like the truest thing you had ever put to paper.

I love him.

The moment the ink dried, panic had set in. You had almost torn it up, almost removed it from the box as if keeping it there would somehow make it real. But in the end, you had left it. Because the box was safe. No one was going to see it.

Especially not Jungkook.

One afternoon, you came back from your classes, ready to relax and unwind before the stress of exams fully set in. You had been looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe even a movie marathon with Jungkook to take your mind off things for a while.

But the moment you stepped into your dorm, you felt something was off.

Joy was sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee, her expression smug—too smug. A knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she watched you walk in, and instantly, your stomach twisted with unease.

You narrowed your eyes. "What did you do?"

"I did you a favor," she said casually, taking another slow sip of her coffee.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "What favor?" you asked, dread creeping into your voice.

Joy grinned. "I found that little cute box of yours."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if what she was about to say wasn’t about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought—what a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. So…I wrapped it up and dropped it off at his place."

Silence.

A deafening, all-consuming silence as her words echoed in your head.

"You WHAT?!"

Your entire body froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as horror washed over you in waves. Your chest felt tight, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Joy merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the sheer panic on your face. "You're welcome," she said cheekily—before promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.

But you couldn’t chase after her. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ringing in your ears.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Still desperate to deny the possibility, you dropped to your knees and scrambled to check under your bed, your hands shaking as you reached into the familiar space where you had hidden the box for years.

Empty.

It was gone.

The tiny wooden box that held a hundred little moments, a hundred little secrets—your secrets—was gone.

And now it was in Jungkook's hands.

Of all people…Jungkook.

Jungkook lived in an apartment a little further away from your dorm. The second the realization hit, you bolted out the door without a second thought, heart pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Your plan was simple—get to his apartment before he did. You knew his habits well enough to guess that he was probably grabbing a late lunch at that fast-food place near campus. If luck was on your side, you still had time.

He hadn’t seen it yet.

He couldn’t have seen it yet.

As you ran, your mind spiraled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenario—each one worse than the last.

What if he had already opened it?

What if he read through every single note?

What if he found the one that said I love him?

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He was your person.

And now, he might know that you wanted to be more than just friends.

The mere thought made your chest tighten as memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. The times you spent together at the arcade, the countless movie nights, the time you and Jungkook had crashed Jimin’s birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.

And then…there was that moment.

The moment you almost confessed.

"I wish I could find someone who truly understood me," he had said one night, his voice softer than usual, lost in thought.

And you had almost said it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue, so painfully close—"I do."

But you swallowed them down.

Because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?

And now, thanks to Joy, you didn’t have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkook’s apartment.

The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.

Would he laugh?

Would he think it was weird?

Would he—

Would he reject you?

No. No. No.

You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. You’re going to get there before he does. You’re going to take the box back, and he’s never going to know about it.

That was the plan.

It had to work.

As soon as you reached Jungkook’s apartment building, you barely paused to catch your breath. Your legs ached from running, but panic kept you moving. You made a beeline for the mailbox section in the lobby, frantically scanning the names, searching for his.

Box 109.

You yanked it open.

Empty.

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then—finally—you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

Your secret, sacred collection of unsent confessions, of words meant only for the safety of your own solitude. The pieces of your heart you had never dared to show him.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

No, no, no, no—

"You—" You gasped, barely able to form words, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought for air. "You opened it?"

Jungkook blinked, holding the box loosely in one hand, fingers curled around the edges as if he had been going through its contents just moments ago. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," he said simply, as if the weight of the universe hadn’t just come crashing down on you.

Oh. Oh no.

Your legs wobbled. You had to physically stop yourself from collapsing right there in front of him.

His gaze flickered downward, and you followed it instinctively. In his other hand, he held one of the notes. One of your notes. The handwriting was unmistakably yours, a little smudged, a little rushed, but still legible.

He cleared his throat, then read aloud.

"I don’t know when it happened. But one day, he became my favorite person."

Silence.

It stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You thought you might actually pass out.

"Jungkook, I—" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.

And then, to your absolute horror—

He smiled.

Not a teasing smirk, not an awkward grimace, but a real, genuine, knowing smile. A little shy, a little amused, as if the weight of what he had just discovered didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it did you.

And then—oh god—he spoke again.

"So… do you still think my hair looks best when it’s messy?"

Your breath hitched.

Your brain went blank.

You wanted to scream.

The change was almost instant.

In the days that followed, Jungkook became… different.

Not in the way you had imagined, though.

You had been bracing yourself for a talk—a conversation where he’d tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didn’t feel the same way. Or, at the very least, a moment of awkwardness before things slowly went back to normal.

But instead, Jungkook just… pulled away.

It started subtly at first. He stopped texting as much. The late-night calls that once lasted for hours dwindled into one-word replies and seen messages. The casual lunch meetups, the spontaneous arcade runs, the easy, natural way he used to gravitate towards you in a crowded room—all of it changed.

And yet, despite the distance, he never fully let you go.

Instead, he turned it into a joke.

Like today, when he leaned in—far too close for comfort—during your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.

"So, I’m warmer than the sun, huh?"

You stiffened instantly, your hands tightening around your pen. He pulled back with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with mischief as he watched your reaction unfold in real-time.

It was unbearable.

He kept doing it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him—really talk to him—he would either dodge the conversation entirely or turn it into something lighthearted, something unserious.

Like the time you finally found him alone, determined to just get it over with, to ask what had changed between you two. Before you could even get the words out, he cut you off with another one of those smirks, his voice laced with amusement.

"So I look best in black? Good to know."

And then he walked away.

That was when you finally got the message.

Jungkook had taken it as a joke.

He didn’t care about your feelings.

It was like the caring, affectionate boy you had known for years had vanished the moment your heart had been laid bare. Like now that the truth was out in the open, he didn’t know how to handle it—so he chose to mock it instead.

And worst of all?

He was pulling away from you completely.

The time you used to spend together? Gone. He was hanging out with other people now, filling his days with anyone but you. And when you did manage to cross paths, he only acknowledged you through those insufferable little comments, those cruel reminders of the things you had never meant for him to see.

It hurt. More than you wanted to admit.

Because maybe—just maybe—you had hoped that if he knew how you felt…

He wouldn’t push you away like this.

The next week brought the on-campus career fair—an event mandatory for all students. You weren’t particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.

Or so you thought.

Because that’s when you saw him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was walking around with Hana, a junior from your college. They moved easily through the crowd, side by side, completely immersed in conversation. And then, to make things even worse—he laughed.

A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t expecting him to make it this obvious.

If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didn’t feel the same way, you could live with that. But did he really have to parade it around like this?

Maybe this was his way of sending a message. Maybe he wanted you to know, without actually having to say it out loud.

A silent rejection.

What a jerk.

These days, you barely have the motivation to attend classes. You go through the motions—waking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lectures—but your mind isn’t really there.

Because no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, the brutal reality of rejection lingers like a shadow, following you everywhere you go.

Jungkook threw away your feelings like they meant nothing.

You should have expected it, right? You should have known this was how it would turn out.

Maybe you were never meant to be anything more than a friend to him. Maybe, the moment he realized you held deeper feelings for him, he got scared. Or worse—maybe he just didn’t care at all.

The thought makes your chest ache.

Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. You’ve seen it in the way he talks about love, in the way he watches romance movies with a dreamy look in his eyes. But clearly, you were never part of that dream.

And now, because of your stupid feelings, you’ve ruined everything.

You used to be his best friend. The one he joked around with, the one he trusted, the one he leaned on.

But now?

Now he barely looks at you.

And if he does, it's only to throw some teasing remark your way—like your feelings were some kind of joke.

The person you were most angry at was Joy.

Not Jungkook. Not yourself.

Joy.

Because none of this would have happened if she had just left that damn box alone.

That day after the box incident, the moment you stepped back into your dorm, she was there, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened. She glanced up as you walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“I didn’t expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys would—” she wiggled her eyebrows—“get freaky after the whole confession, you know?”

She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.

But then she saw your face.

Her laughter faded. “Wait… what happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlier—Jungkook’s teasing, his smirk, his distance.

You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. “I… I’m sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, no, he loved it.” You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your help, Joy.”

Her expression faltered. “Wait… what do you mean?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “Jungkook probably thinks I’m pathetic now.”

Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. “I— I really thought—” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, now you know he didn’t.”

Silence settled between you both.

And for the first time, Joy didn’t have anything to say.

The next time you see Jungkook, he’s with Hana again.

They’re standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You don’t mean to eavesdrop—you’re not even sure why you stop—but the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.

Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. “Are you sure she won't find out?”

Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… Maybe it's better this way”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your first instinct is denial—maybe they’re not talking about you. Maybe it’s about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.

As far as you’re aware, there isn’t another she in Jungkook’s life. Not before. Not when you were still close.

You’ve already been replaced.

Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find out—because he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.

It isn’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself to step back, turning away from the scene before you can hear any more.

You decide then—no matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feel—you can’t bear being apart from Jungkook.

Even if he doesn’t love you back.

Even if he only sees you as a friend.

Losing him completely? That’s not something you’re ready for. Maybe you never will be.

So, you do the only thing you can think of.

You wait for him after class.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch the door, your hands clammy with nerves. When Jungkook finally steps out, your breath catches. He looks the same—same hoodie, same soft brown eyes—but everything feels different now.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

"I get it, okay?" you say, voice firm despite the way your throat tightens. "You don’t like me. And that’s fine. I hope she makes you happy."

Jungkook halts mid-step.

His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.

"You don’t understand," he mutters.

"Then make me understand, Jungkook," you plead. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to keep going, even as your last shred of dignity slips through your fingers. "Can we still be friends, at least?"

Silence.

Jungkook doesn’t reply.

And somehow, that hurts more than rejection ever could.

There's a party happening, hosted by one of the biggest party animals on campus. Everyone is invited, and Joy insists that you go.

After much convincing, you finally give in. You've mended things with her—finally forgiven her. Maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe you just needed someone to blame.

You decide to go, hoping for a distraction. Maybe the music, the drinks, and the endless chatter will help you forget, even if just for a night.

But you already know Jungkook will be there.

Probably Hana too.

And that's fine.

You'll just stay out of their way.

The party is in full swing when you arrive—loud music, flashing lights, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor, and the unmistakable smell of booze in the air. Bottles are being passed around, and the energy is electric.

A few friends from your classes spot you and pull you in, offering drinks. You take them all without hesitation, reaching for the strongest ones, letting the alcohol burn away the ache in your chest.

Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Good. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe you can actually enjoy yourself tonight.

With the alcohol settling in, your limbs feel lighter, your mind a little hazy. You dance to the outdated playlist blaring through the speakers, laugh with strangers, and let yourself let go—just for a while.

But after some time, it all feels like too much. The heat, the noise, the overwhelming buzz in your veins. You slip away from the crowd and make your way to the rooftop, breathing in the crisp night air, letting it cool your flushed skin.

And then you sense it—someone else's presence.

You turn, your head spinning slightly, and there he is.

Jungkook.

You blink, wondering if you're imagining him, but his gaze is fixed on you, a slight furrow between his brows. There's something like concern in his expression as he watches you, taking in your drunken state.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

The alcohol makes everything feel lighter—your body, your thoughts, your inhibitions. So when you see Jungkook standing there, looking at you with that unreadable expression, the words just spill out before you can stop them.

“I liked you, you know,” you mumble, swaying slightly. “But now I realize… I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook doesn’t react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.

He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll be fine,” he says simply, then turns on his heel and walks away.

Just like that.

The cool night air suddenly feels suffocating, the weight in your chest heavier than ever. You watch his retreating figure, your heart shattering all over again.

The next morning, you wake up with the nastiest headache ever. Your head throbs, your mouth is dry, and your body feels like it’s been wrung out. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as the hazy memories from last night slowly piece themselves together.

Jungkook. The rooftop. The way he just… walked away like he didn’t care.

You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. There’s no point dwelling on it. Your exams are approaching, and you need to focus.

Deciding to get some studying done, you head to the library. The quiet atmosphere should help clear your head—or at least distract you from the mess that is your life.

But the moment you step inside, your breath catches.

Jungkook is sitting at the table you both used to frequent, completely absorbed in scribbling something into a notebook. For a second, you consider turning around, but then something catches your eye.

He rips out a small piece of paper, folds it neatly, and—without hesitation—slips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.

Your heart clenches.

Is it for Hana?

You don’t stick around to find out. Before Jungkook can notice you, you turn on your heel and walk away.

February 10th. Your birthday.

You wake up with a small flicker of hope. Maybe today would be different. Maybe Jungkook had been ignoring you all this time because he was planning something—some kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?

Surely.

So you wait.

By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messages—friends, family, even distant relatives reaching out to wish you. Everyone but Jungkook.

Not even a single text.

The hope that had carried you through the day starts to crumble, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t go to class. What’s the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.

That’s when Joy bursts into your room with a grin.

"You got a package!" she announces, holding out a neatly wrapped box.

Your heart leaps.

Jungkook?

You rush over, fingers fumbling as you tear open the wrapping—only for your stomach to drop.

It’s from your parents.

Disappointment washes over you, but you push it aside. They went through the trouble of sending you something, and you should be grateful. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile as you pick up your phone and call them.

"Thank you," you say, voice steady. Because at least someone remembered.

There was still time.

It was only evening—plenty of hours left before midnight. Jungkook would surely text before then. He had to.

Joy, noticing your gloomy mood, tries to lift your spirits. "Come on, let’s go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."

But you shake your head. "I’m not in the mood."

She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesn’t push you. Instead, she flops onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I hate this," she mutters. "I hate seeing you like this. And I hate him for treating you this way."

Her voice is laced with anger, but there’s something else there too—guilt.

Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.

If she hadn’t sent that gift early, if she hadn’t tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldn’t be spending your birthday like this—waiting for a boy who might never come around.

Jungkook didn’t text that day.

He forgot your birthday.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a message that never came. Midnight passed, and still—nothing.

The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.

Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day.

You can’t afford to miss any more classes. You haven’t stepped foot on campus since your birthday, but today, you decide to go.

You have no motivation to see or talk to anyone. You tell yourself that you’ll just quietly attend your classes and head straight back home. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions.

But as soon as you reach campus, you notice a crowd gathering. There’s some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Great. Just great.

Everything about it feels like the universe is mocking you, rubbing salt on an already raw wound. Heart-shaped decorations, pink confetti floating in the air, and couples laughing—completely oblivious to how suffocating it feels for you.

You try to move past the crowd, but suddenly, someone pushes forward, and you get caught in the chaos. You stumble, losing your balance—bracing for impact—

But you don’t hit the ground.

Because Jungkook catches you.

His hands grip your arms, steadying you out of instinct. His touch is firm and warm, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

For the first time in days, you look up at him. And for the first time in days, he looks right back at you.

He doesn’t let go of you immediately.

His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like he’s grounding himself, like he’s hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly—like he’s about to say something.

The music playing in the background fades into a distant hum. Everything around you slows. The laughter, the chatter, the festival lights—it all blurs.

All that’s left is him.

Still holding you.

Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.

“Do you even care, Jungkook?”

His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see something—something raw and unspoken flash through his eyes.

But then, like a switch flipping, he lets go.

So fast that you nearly stumble again.

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.

Then he turns. Walks away.

And you’re left standing there, alone in the middle of a festival meant for love.

This is it.

This is your answer.

Jungkook has made his choice.

And now, it’s time for you to make yours.

You have to move on.

That night, you decide—Jungkook was never meant to be yours.

It’s a painful truth, one you’ve been avoiding, but tonight, you accept it.

Needing a distraction, you start clearing out your closet, pulling out old clothes, forgotten trinkets, anything to keep your hands busy. That’s when you see it.

The pink heart-shaped box.

Your breath hitches.

You had snatched it from his hands that day, barely able to meet his gaze before bolting out of his apartment and driving straight back to your dorm. You had shoved it deep into your closet, hoping that if you buried it away, you could bury your feelings too.

For a moment, you consider throwing it away. What’s the point of holding onto it now? Jungkook knows. He read the notes, saw every piece of your heart laid bare. And in the end, it changed nothing.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid.

One by one, you pull out the little folded papers, unfolding memories you once held so close.

"I don’t know when it happened, but one day, he became my favourite person."

"His laugh is my favorite sound."

"I wish he knew how much he means to me."

Tears blur your vision.

You never wanted him to know.

Because you never wanted to lose him.

And now, you have.

The weight of it crashes over you all at once, and before you can stop it, the tears spill over, hot and relentless.

You clutch the notes to your chest as silent sobs wrack your body.

You’ve been holding the pain in for too long.

So tonight, you let the dams break.

And you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You feel miserable.

Forget having a Valentine this year—you don’t even have a best friend anymore.

So you stay in bed all day, buried under the covers, refusing to acknowledge the world outside.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to last year’s Valentine’s Day.

You and Jungkook had gone out for dinner—not as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didn’t have dates. You remember how he laughed at the terrible restaurant music, how he stole fries from your plate like they were his.

You miss it.

No—wait. You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Shaking off the thought, you grab your Nintendo Switch and start playing, trying to distract yourself.

Then the doorbell rings.

You ignore it. Joy is probably home—she’ll get it.

But it rings again.

What is Joy doing?

Then it hits you—she probably stayed over at her boyfriend’s place last night.

With a groan, you push off the covers and make your way to the door. You swing it open, ready to shoo away whoever it is—

But there’s no one there.

Your gaze drops to the ground.

And then you see it.

A singular jar, placed carefully on the doormat.

You stare at the jar, a strange sense of familiarity creeping in, but you can’t quite place it.

Where have you seen something like this before?

Your mind scrambles for an answer, flipping through memories like pages in a book, but nothing surfaces.

With hesitant fingers, you reach down and pick it up, feeling the cool glass against your palm. It’s heavier than you expected.

That’s when you notice the writing on the lid, scrawled in red marker.

"To Y/N."

Your heart stutters.

You blink, trying to steady your breath, but the moment feels unreal—like you’ve stepped into a dream.

It’s only then that you notice the jar is filled with tiny rolled-up notes, crammed inside like secrets waiting to be unraveled.

Your mind starts spiraling.

What is this? Who left it? Why does it have your name?

Your hands tremble as you twist the lid open, the slight pop of the seal echoing in the silence.

You reach inside, fingers brushing against the countless little slips of paper.

With bated breath, you pull one out.

You carefully unroll it, eyes scanning the words scribbled in rushed, familiar handwriting.

"I lied."

That’s all it says.

Two words.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes trace the messy yet unmistakable handwriting.

Jungkook.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your pulse quickens.

It’s his.

The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into you—

Yesterday.

The crowd. The music. The overwhelming blur of people around you.

You had stumbled, nearly falling, only for Jungkook to catch you. For a fleeting moment, he held you close. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

You had searched his face, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even care, Jungkook?"

You had wanted him to say yes. Even a little. Anything to make the ache in your chest feel less unbearable.

But instead—

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words had cut deeper than you ever thought possible.

And then he had let go. So fast, like touching you had burned him. Like you meant nothing at all.

You remember the way your heart had cracked, the way he had disappeared into the sea of people, leaving you stranded in the middle of a festival meant for love.

But now—

Now you stand here, gripping a jar full of his words.

"I lied."

Your hands fumble as you reach into the jar again, pulling out another note.

Unrolling it with shaky fingers, you read:

"I thought if I pushed you away, it’d be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I don’t want you to."

A sharp pang strikes your chest.

Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop party—drunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.

“I liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook had stood there, silent, unreadable, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

No apology. No denial. Nothing.

And then, just as effortlessly, he had turned away.

"You'll be fine," he'd said before walking off, leaving you alone in the cold night.

The memory burns like an open wound, and yet, here you are, standing in your doorway, holding the truth he should have told you that night in the palm of your hands.

Your fingers tremble as you pull out the next note.

"I missed your birthday on purpose because I wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a text."

Your breath hitches.

He didn’t forget?

He chose not to text?

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, but it fades just as quickly as the weight of his words settles in.

You reach into the jar again, pulling out another note, heart pounding against your ribs.

What you didn’t know was—

Jungkook had spent hours writing your birthday note.

He had sat at his desk that night, a dozen crumpled papers around him, rewriting the same message over and over, never satisfied. His hands had been shaky when he finally folded the note and slipped it into the jar.

Because words were permanent.

Because he was afraid.

Because deep down, he knew—if he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldn’t be able to push you away anymore.

And that terrified him.

Your grip on the jar tightens as you pull out the next note.

"I was scared you’d see me in the library that day. And you did. I almost stopped writing. But I wanted to finish this for you."

Your breath catches in your throat as a memory rushes back—

The library.

That afternoon, when you had finally dragged yourself back to campus to study for your exams, you had seen him sitting at your usual table, scribbling something into his notebook.

At the time, you thought nothing of it—until you watched him tear out a tiny slip of paper and slip it into a jar.

A jar.

The very same one you now hold in your trembling hands.

Back then, you had turned away, assuming it was for Hana.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you.

Every note in this jar was for you.

Your vision blurs as you stare down at the tiny rolled-up messages still waiting to be read.

He had been writing to you all along.

By the time you reach the last few notes, your hands are trembling. Maybe you can’t even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandings—every ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didn’t care—crashes down on you all at once.

Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.

"You thought I didn’t care. But I did. I always did."

A sob escapes your lips, the ache in your chest unbearable.

You clutch the jar against you like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held—because it is. Because it’s him.

Every unspoken word. Every hidden feeling. Every truth he was too afraid to say aloud.

And now, you finally know.

Your breath catches as you reach the bottom of the jar, realizing the significance—there are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.

With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.

“I was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope it’s not too late for you to read them.”

Your chest tightens.

You take a deep breath and reach for the last note, your fingers trembling. Slowly, you unroll it, heart pounding in your ears.

“Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

The paper almost slips from your fingers as your vision blurs with fresh tears. A shaky laugh escapes your lips, somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

After everything, after all the silence, the pain, the misunderstandings—he’s finally saying it.

And suddenly, all that matters is what you’ll do next.

The moment the words register, you don’t think.

The jar nearly slips from your grasp as you scramble to your feet, your heartbeat hammering louder than the thoughts racing through your mind. Jungkook. He couldn’t have gone far—he must have just dropped it off.

You fling the door open, barefoot, barely even stopping to grab your keys. The cold air bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You sprint down the stairs, nearly stumbling in your rush to get outside.

Your eyes dart wildly around the street, your breath coming out in frantic puffs. Where is he?

Then, you see him.

A few feet away, Jungkook is walking slowly, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s already bracing for disappointment. Like he’s already convinced you won’t come after him.

But you do.

“Jungkook!”

He freezes.

You don’t stop running until you’re right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

His eyes widen when he sees you—messy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You swallow hard, voice shaking. “Did you mean it?”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Then, barely above a whisper—“Yeah.”

Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.

"You absolute—jerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything he’s put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you were—" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "—writing these?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say next.

"You could’ve just told me, Jungkook. You could’ve just—" You pause, gripping the jar like it’s the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"

He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

"Because I was a coward."

You blink. You weren’t expecting him to admit it so easily.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, looking away. "I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do. If I let you think I didn’t care, maybe you’d move on. Maybe you’d find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like I did."

Your throat tightens. Your fingers dig into the glass of the jar. "You were the one hurting me, Jungkook."

His eyes finally meet yours, and the weight of them almost knocks the air from your lungs. He looks wrecked.

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Then why?" Your voice trembles, frustration bubbling over. "Why did you let me think I was chasing something that wasn’t even there?"

His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesn’t answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.

"Because I was afraid you’d realize you deserved better."

Silence settles between you. A silence so thick it presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your vision blurring. You should walk away. You should scream, cry—anything. But instead, you do the only thing you can think of.

You reach into the jar, grab a note at random, and shove it into his hand. "Read it."

Jungkook hesitates. Then, slowly, he unfolds the paper. His fingers tremble as he reads the words he once wrote.

"If I had been braver, I would’ve told you every single day how much you meant to me."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you can’t quite name.

"Say it now," you whisper.

Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

You wait. Trembling, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his. Daring him to finally, finally say it.

He exhales shakily. His voice is low, rough—like it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.

"Y/N…"

You don’t look away. Don’t let him run from this.

His throat bobs. His hand curls into a fist at his side, then slowly unclenches.

"I love you."

A sharp inhale cuts through you. Even though you were waiting for it, the words hit like a tidal wave.

Jungkook shakes his head, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it—just raw, aching regret.

"I loved you then. I love you now. And I don’t think there’s a single version of me that won’t love you."

Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.

"Then why—" your voice cracks, "—why did you let me think you didn’t?"

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. His face twists with something close to pain.

"Because I was scared." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself have you, I’d ruin you. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it."

Your hands clench at your sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

He nods. Swallows hard. Takes a step closer.

"I know." His voice is softer now. "And if I could go back, I’d do it all differently. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and tell you—"

Your lips crash into his, years of longing and heartbreak unraveling in a single, desperate moment. Your fingers fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, closing the distance like you’ve been waiting forever. Because you have.

Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The kiss isn’t soft—it’s frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. It’s a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent pushing you away.

Jungkook tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs through you as his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand spreads against your back, pressing you impossibly closer, like even this isn’t enough, like he’d fuse you together if he could.

You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstanding—crumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking. Like a promise.

When you finally pull apart, neither of you lets go.

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, still uneven, still shaken. His hands remain on your waist like he’s afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.

Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. “Then spend every day proving that you do.”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh—one that sounds broken and real, like he can’t believe he’s still allowed to have this moment with you.

“Deal,” he murmurs.

And then he kisses you again.

The door barely clicks shut before Jungkook is on you again, his hands framing your face as his lips crash into yours. There’s no hesitation now, no careful restraint—only heat, only the raw, aching need that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

His body presses against yours, pushing you back into the door, and you gasp against his lips. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours with slow, deliberate intent. He tastes like something addictive—like want, like longing, like the kind of hunger that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roam down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips skimming along your bare skin. His touch is scorching, leaving a trail of fire wherever he moves. He pauses, his breath ragged, lips barely brushing yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice rough, uneven.

You shake your head, tilting your chin up until your lips ghost over his again. "I don’t want you to stop."

The words break something inside him.

His mouth crashes onto yours again, hungrier this time, more desperate. His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard lines of his body, the way his chest rises and falls unsteadily against yours. One hand grips your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides lower, gripping your thigh and hitching it up against his hip.

A quiet moan escapes you at the feeling, and he groans in response, pressing harder into you. His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, where he lingers. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he soothes it with his tongue, sucking gently, enough to make you arch into him, enough to make your breath hitch.

"Jungkook—" His name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he exhales sharply against your skin, like the sound is enough to undo him.

His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, hands settling under your thighs. Instinct takes over, and your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you across the room. He lays you down on the bed with care, but there’s nothing careful about the way he follows you down, covering your body with his own.

He hovers above you, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes searching yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his touch unbearably light.

"You’re sure?" he whispers, voice thick with something heady.

Your only answer is a whispered "Yes," breathless, certain.

Something shifts in him at your words. His lips find yours again, but this time, he takes his time—exploring, savoring, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you. His kisses trail downward, along the curve of your neck, across your collarbone, his mouth mapping out a path of heat and sensation. His hands move with just as much purpose, slipping under fabric, pushing it aside, fingers tracing bare skin with an intimacy that makes your pulse stutter.

Every brush of his lips, every slow, deliberate touch sends waves of electricity through you, igniting something deep and primal. Clothes are discarded in slow, teasing movements, the heat between you building with every layer that falls away.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, down your arm, over the curve of your breasts, his breath hot and uneven. He watches you, eyes dark with something intense, something almost reverent, as his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your bare skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, voice filled with something deeper than desire.

You reach for him, pulling him back up, needing his mouth on yours again, needing more. He obliges, kissing you fiercely, like he never wants to stop, like this moment has been waiting to happen for far too long.

His hands explore moving towards your heat, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, like he’s making up for all the lost time. You arch into him, breath hitching, hands gripping onto his shoulders as heat coils low in your stomach.

"Jungkook," you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

His breath catches, and he exhales shakily. "I’ve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "I’m right here."

And then there’s no more talking—only movement, only passion, only the feeling of finally, finally being exactly where you both belong.

The air is thick with warmth, bodies tangled beneath the sheets, hearts pounding in tandem as the last echoes of your shared breaths settle between you. The world outside might still be turning, but in this moment, it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him, skin against skin, the weight of what just happened pressing down like the softest, heaviest thing in the world.

Your body is spent, muscles trembling faintly from the aftershocks, but you don’t move. You can’t.

Jungkook is still holding you. One arm draped lazily around your waist, the other tracing absentminded patterns against your back. His touch is slow, soothing, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real. Like if he lets go, you might slip away.

You stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync, your head resting just above his heart. The rhythm of it is steady now, no longer racing like it had been just moments ago. Still, there’s a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.

It’s you who finally breaks it.

“So…” You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. “Hana knew about the jar?”

His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but there’s amusement in it too.

“She didn’t just know about it.” His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. “It was her idea.”

You blink. “…What?”

Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Yeah. She was the one who told me to do it—to fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “She also threatened to expose me if I didn’t.”

You scoff, though you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. “So let me get this straight… You couldn’t tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?”

Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. “I didn’t tell her. She just… figured it out.”

Of course, she did.

You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. “Still. She knew before I did.”

Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you jealous?”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss you—slow and lingering, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into it. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

Then, softer now, more serious, he murmurs, “Are you gonna answer me?”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Answer what?”

Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouched—except for the last one.

“The question,” he says, retrieving the single unfolded slip of paper. He holds it between you, and even though you already know what it says, your heart still stutters when your eyes skim over the words again.

Y/N, will you be my Valentine?

Earlier, you had left it unanswered, too overwhelmed by everything that had come before it. But now, after everything—after confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other again—there’s no hesitation.

You reach out, plucking the note from his fingers. Slowly, carefully, you fold it again, tucking it beneath your pillow like something precious, something worth keeping. Then, meeting his gaze, you whisper, “You never needed to ask.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Your breath catches. Not because of his confidence—but because, deep down, you realize you’d never wanted to say no in the first place. Maybe you had tried to fight it. Maybe you had convinced yourself that the past had built too many walls between you. But now, lying here in the warmth of his arms, the truth settles into your bones like something that had been waiting for you to accept it all along.

It had always been him.

Your fingers tighten in the sheets as you search his gaze, looking for hesitation, for doubt—for something to make this feel less like a dream. But there’s nothing. Just him. Just you. Just this moment you both fought so hard to reach.

Jungkook watches you, waiting, always waiting, his hand still resting against your cheek as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

So you close the distance.

You kiss him slowly this time, letting it sink in. The warmth of his lips, the taste of him still lingering, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing the same air, hearts beating in time.

And then, with a quiet, knowing smile, you whisper, “Then don’t.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his expression shifting—softening, melting—as if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you against him again, tucking you close, his hand slipping into yours beneath the sheets.

Neither of you speak for a long time after that. You don’t need to.

Outside, the world keeps turning, time moving forward just as it always does. But here, in the hush of your dorm room, wrapped up in him, it feels like the universe has paused just for you.

Not to make up for lost time.

But to remind you that some things—some people—were never really lost at all.

And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.

EPILOGUE : Years Later – Valentine’s Day

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the apartment, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, “Anything’s fine.”

Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside the bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box.

But this time, there’s something else.

Your fingers find the jar—the one that started it all.

You pull them both out carefully, as if they were a fragile secret, and place them on your lap.

Soft footsteps approach. Then, a familiar weight sinks onto the mattress beside you.

Jungkook’s voice is quieter now, fond. “Didn’t think I’d see those again.”

You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. “I don’t know what made me reach for them.”

He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. “Habit, maybe. Or fate.” Then, smirking, “You always did have a thing for digging up answers.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop the lid off the jar, fingers fishing out an old note. The paper is creased, the ink slightly faded, but you already know what it says.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

Jungkook watches you, expectant. “You never actually answered me, you know.”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “Jungkook, we’re literally married.”

“And?” He leans in, teasing. “I’m just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lips—

"Yes, Jungkook. I’ll be your Valentine."

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in. The jar sits forgotten on the floor, the pink box nestled beside it.

Once upon a time, you had pulled it out, searching for clarity. Looking for a sign.

You didn’t realize then—you never needed the answers inside.

Because you’d already found them.

Because you’d found him.

And maybe that was the answer all along.

taglist: @iamstilljk @hirochan112 @withluvjm @amarawayne @jeon-has-left-you-on-seen @blueofocean @tattzjeon @tsick @stuti2904 @gukkiebabysblog @taekritimin123 @whisperingonyx @sadgirlroo @nerdycheol @hoshiskimchi @blueberriesm @kooksrqcer @minimoninini @dreamersparacosm @yok00k @whothefuckisthishoe @prxdajeon @darkangelfei @sunainasworld @kia091106 @khadeeeeej @welcometomyworld13 @noshametempo @bakuhoethotski @ohyeah35sworld

thank you so much for reading! let me know what u think about it <3

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elliesglock · 2 days ago

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hiii pazzi nation!

okay so i want to start this analysis with how i think this video fits into their timeline because it's very important to how i will talk about things in this. i think atp in their relationship they just came off of being away from each other and being in a sorta "broken up/distant situationship" because of the way i believe they were both acting single. however the way p acts in this interview gives she wants her girl back. and i'm gonna say this a lot but that's literally what she was doing. they had taken some time apart maybe been broken up but still seeing each other, "being each others girl" and paige's energy is sooooo happy to be in azzi's presence. like she's literally giddy. i think it is due to the fact that she just spent this season not really being able to see azzi a lot, going through this rough patch break up with her gf, azzi not being with her and also feeling like azzi wasn't hers (also being jealous that she felt azzi wasn't hers) and that's why she's like practically kicking her feet when seeing her girl. i'm not surprised her and azzi didn't last long before getting back together (casually or however you want to call it) when azzi came to uconn because the way they act in each other's presence this video. idk yall tell me what you think but that's the way i feel this video fits into the timeline. this video was a huge determining factor for the 2021 part of my tl. also this video is really what pushed me to believe they started falling HEAVILY in love and started acknowledging their feelings for each other during quarantine. and that's because of the similarities in how they're looking at each other in the slam interview and the 20 questions video. THEYRE LOVE SICK!

now splash sisters is the only time pazzi ever used it in marketing. and i've talked about this before so im going to be brief but if they were really just friends playing into this brand would really do numbers market value wise and it would've been a great tactic for them. however, pazzi has never viewed each other as sisters and have never seen each other sisters simply because of what they do. they know what they do and what they are so being "sisters" is gross and uncomfortable to them.

let's talk about p's smile when the interviewer asks about the first time they met and quote, "taking it all back". her smile in this is literally her getting so fond of the memories with azzi. and it also gives she is thinking and knows about the inside scoop of what "meeting azzi" really entailed. like always we're left wondering and left out of what pazzi's inside jokes are 😒. when the interviewer brings up "taking it all back." paige has this look in her eye that says she's so emotional and happy to be reminiscing on her girl and how young they were. her and azzi meeting brings her joy. azzi so quick to say she thought p was a little white girl and she had nothing on her. like yeah azzi you been knew that white girl ain't shit!!! and i know p HATESSS when she says that 😭 which is why i think she gets this smug look on her face and says "she thought i was flavor less she thought i had no flavor!" and her expression says to me like oh she thought i was flavorless but i still bagged her.

paige saying how crazy their chemistry was on the court even though they didn't talk to each other off the court. yeah p.....that's what a soulmate is. you didn't feel it? i know you did. now i believe paige when she says they didn't talk much off the court but i feel like she's skewing the truth a little bit here. maybe it's her tone of voice or how she looks like she's lying when she says it i feel like they had connections off the court as well. maybe not anything superrrr big but i feel like p is not letting on to everything. i feel like her and azzi talked and spent time together off the court. however it's still sweet either way the way p sought out azzi on the plane and sparked something between them. p hyping herself up in the plane bathroom to go to fine shyt I KNOW IT HAPPENED PAIGE MADISON you're not the rizz master you think you are. i like how paige had this tactic of "just yap her fucking ear off and pray she likes you" when it came to azzi. and azzi took the bait girlllll 😭 p says they came back to minnesota and started to become friends then. the way she hesitates on the friends...again she's not letting on to something. it's like she's trying to say she came back to minnesota with azzi and wanted to say they became something more or something happened in minnesota but she stops herself. and this is early on in the medias trying to hide it so i expect nothing less from paige than a slip up.

paige saying trust and loyalty are the biggest thing she wants in their friendship is.....interesting definitely. idk about yall but saying that gives coupley to me. yes these can both be things wanted in a friendship but it's not the first thing i'd think of. also this shuts down player p accusations thank you very much! she values loyalty and trust. i mean learning these traits must of been a given for them understanding that they were long distance a lot and were separated, yes trust and loyalty are needed in a relationship like that. i think that's why p values it so much. she had to learn it. also the way p is so possessive of azzi i think she probably had to learn the hard way that's something she values. probably many arguments and insecurities coming out because of the distance and then both having to learn trust and loyalty around each other at a young age. yeahhh that's a strong couple and that's why they've been together and making it work for a while thank you! paige talks about azzi's family so fondly. that's truly her second family as well. she mentions their acceptance of her and how they love her and expect nothing back. honestly if you didn't tell me i'd assume she was practicing her speech for her wedding for her in laws. it's very sweet the appreciation and relationship she has with azzi's family and i think that's been a thing since they were "just friends"

paige mentioning how important it is to her that azzi still supports her and wants to be around her even if she's annoying her. okay yall are in love like. she basically just described unconditional love im gonna be sick. i think p also really craves that support and loyalty like she said from azzi. she wants to be loved and accepted despite her flaws and that's what azzi does. that's so important to a relationship and it's why they've lasted so long btw. unconditional love is not something you can find in every person. paige says it's through "the ups and downs highs and lows and that's definitely what we have" this speaks to me a lot just because of how i think they were together when this video was filmed. like i said i don't think they were together atp but p was making so many hints that screamed i want my girl back. i think she knew she had one shot and she was gonna make it 😭 the way she talks about azzi in this interview is so i want my girl back i want to talk about my girl and she's coming to uconn so i have to get her back.

i wanna point out something here. i've always believed it was VERYYYYYY strange if she was just azzi's friend to cry over thinking about her acl injury. and no i don't think it's weird to cry in the moment but to cry thinking about it? i mean i get it sucks and that's very difficult to see your friend go through but romantic love and platonic love is different. romantic love WOULD have you crying thinking about your person hurt or injured or going through something. also the way p protects her love ones i know it was hard to see azzi like that. i mean p literally says "seeing azzi on the floor had me in tears." i think she felt a lot of guilt and also was heartbroken for her because the only thing she ever wants is to protect the people she loves. just the way i feel it might be delusional idk. the way azzi is so use to p teasing her she immediately says why are you laughing when p starts getting emotional says to me she's not used to p being soooo emotional like crying wise. and p says later on in the interview she's became a very emotional person so. the way azzi says aweeee stop! pls don't cry over me and rubs paige's back :( yall are sick and devious.

one of my favorite things i think i ever found out about pazzi was the fact p held her leg and prayed over it after she tore it :( the way azzi in that picture looks so sad but p has this determined face like she's willing with everything in her for azzi to be okay :( she cares so much about her. i think the only thing p worries about day end and day out is if azzi is okay and if her girl is okay she's okay and everything's fine. that dynamic is super clear in the way she treats azzi and how soft and accommodating she is for her. praying over her knee also just shows how p wants everyday for azzi to be comfortable and she'll do anything to make her happy. paige bueckers lover girl and gentle woman p come home. i'd like to point out as well how azzi says paige visited her before surgery, was the first one to call after surgery, texted her all the time to check up on her. giving very in love. giving very relationship and you have a tie with this person. again, p supports her and has always been azzi's person even while they were 16, 17, and 18 years years old. just babies that found a home in each other i will literally pass out right here. they have held each other down for so long.

man azzi i really get it. i don't think there was ever a possibility for it to be anyone else for either of them watching this interview. azzi talks about how having p being there helped her a lot mentally through her injury and it's so touching because to have that bond with someone so young and to have someone that can make you feel happier just by talking to them that's so special. i know from experience when going through something like an injury or a hard time having your person there sometimes is more relieving than having ur parents there because of the way they understand you. that's what i got from what azzi's saying. she was happy to have her parents around but having p's presence and what p gives her is different than what her parents can offer. and paige's presence brings her a different type of comfort.

p smiling so wide while azzi is telling her story is soooooooooooo. like that girl wanted her baby back and from her playlists she IN THE FEELSSSSS. she was not having it freshman year and yes i think they were in contact and probably still really attached to each other but from their body language they still seem a little distant from each other. and p hatessss this i know. and that fact they're probably a little distant but can still say all these things about each other and point out each other's unique traits all with a smile on their face? oh yall are meant to be.

paige saying ride or die and that id do anything for her (YEAH WE KNOW) and she'd do anything for me. she gets this softness to her tone. it really says to me they strive everyday to make each other happy and their actions show it. especially recently. the way p takes care of her, gets her what she wants without azzi even asking, making sure she's comfortable. and azzi doing the same and being there for p in every big moment of her life. like yeah paige is completely 100% right that's her ride or die

-now this next part is something i've been wanting to talk about for a long time. p says "i used to go through a lot of hard times that the cameras don't see and i've always confided in her and i use to keep everything into myself, i use to go through all the times in my life by myself, so just being able to open up to her, and being that person she can open up to as well was really important for me." first of all the little quiver in her voice saying it all like she's so overcome with emotion even talking about her ILL YHROW UP ON ANY BITCH RN. also p this was like the most girlfriend thing you could ever say OMG!!! i've always felt p is a very strong person who likes to keep things in and appear strong to everyone around her because she's a leader and wants people to feed off her energy. this is the girl that says pressure is a privilege and doesn't acknowledge a lot of the things she goes through to keep a brave face. i think she struggled with that a lot before meeting azzi. like she said she went through a lot of it alone and that's very taxing for a 15 year old. i've always believed just from the way azzi presents herself she is definitely paige's rock. and i think it's one of the things paige LOVESSS about her. i feel like just because i know p's a hot head lololol there's some days where paige just wants everyone to leave her alone until she sees azzi so she can get her feelings out and confide in the only person she wants to. THATS very relationship hunny. i know it firsthand. it's a comfort thing for her i think. she probably feels as though nobody but azzi will offer the right advice or azzi is the only one who can calm her down. IDK ALRIGHT BEFORE EVERYBODY CALLS ME DELUSIONAL IM JUST GONAN STOP.

i think paige confused this being a basketball interview and heard brag about your girl and show how much you're in love with her for 10 minutes video! she's just spent the whole video saying how talented and how proud of azzi she is. paige filming a video and showing it to azzi to recruit her is just....yeah. you're desperate baby. and it's not even a thought to her. that's literally second nature. she WANTED TO DO THAT. paige imo to azzi is very much you don't need to be tell me twice and you don't even need to ask me once im already thinking about you. that's what that video gives. i'm gonna make a video for you cause i know you're hesitant and im gonna get you to uconn to be with me

also paige saying they'll make tik toks as one of her pitches but i ain't seen any so where are they at pazzi??? obv in azzi's drafts. i guess it was the wind ☹️

okay now paige you know DAMN well you did not have to stare at azzi that hard with those stars in your eyes and that goofy ass smile while she was telling her story. she literally can't hide it. in this interview it literally looks like she looks at her and is trying to memorize every inch of her before looking away. and that's love. love where you can't get enough of the person you're looking at and it's hard to look away. that's the energy p has. p being so shocked about azzi saying she committed and wanting confirmation a million times. azzi saying she teared up like how she can get so emotional about azzi so fasttt. gives she was falling in love and when the love of your life is mentioned it makes you so happy you wanna cry and scream. and then getting mad when azzi said "tricked ya!!" and storming out. (again paige you're a hot head). she DID not appreciate her girls jokes very much. i think p REALLYYYY wanted azzi to come to uconn guys but i don't know maybe it's just me. and then ofc paige pipes up saying, "it was a nice dinner AFTER the news." with this look like wym p??? what was nice.....yeah idk maybe i'm reading into it but that look is giving she wants to say something a little off script.

paige then goes into ramble azzi mode and talks about how azzi is a certified bucket, can score on all three levels, she is a great guard, an amazing basketball player. atp they can be each other scouting team 😭 azzi saying paige can sense where she's at on the court. welllll some things never change ig. anybody would be able to sense the love of their life on the court azzi. p then takes it upon herself to saying their friendship is pretty crazy and insane with this smirk. WHAT ARE YOU NOT TELLING US MADISON. it's screaming and yelling to me she is again saying one of her inside jokes and is teasing us but trying to make it sound innocent. i hate u p boogers. mentioning how their yin and yang but they balance each other is so true to their dynamic thank you for doing my job for me pazzi. i've always felt this was something that is very prevalent in their relationship. i think they both can be very stubborn but it doesn't make them clash because they love each other so much and disagreements just resolve themselves cause they don't wanna be mad at each other. i do think they balance each other very well.

the fact they have a "scare game" going on SURVEY SAYS YALL ARE GFS 🎉🎉🎉. and the way p completely turns her body to azzi when she's talking to her yep that's your person and you really aren't slick because i can read your body language paige.

azzi saying paige will come up to her in the middle of the day and annoy her and she's annoying....middle of the day huh? whenever you're chilling in paige's dorm and she wants ur attention so she comes up and starts touching you? you mean those times azzi?

also the last little tidbit at the end the way azzi says "bro" and paige IMMEDIATELY whips her head and gets this soft look in her eyes and is just tuned in to whatever azzi's saying. literally the definition of blah blah blah proper name place name backstory stuff.....and then azzi starts dawging her and she's still smiling 😭

okay i'm sorry this was so long there was a lot of moments and i kinda got lazy at the end ngl....🧍‍♂️ but thanks for reading and happy early valentine's day!! wish for a pazzi post! byeeee!

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princessofxianle · 1 day ago

Text

response to @bingqiuhateabortion 's comment [also quoted below]

sry i wrote too much (again 😅) to respond in a comment...

@bingqiuhateabortion : this might sound like nitpicking but i read 4th book a while ago and i believe feng xin didn't really believe xie lian when xl said that bwx was haunting him and he and xl's parents thought that xl was just having a fit and depressed over the current state of things (which is bwx's fault but nontheless)... hadn't he told him? Also my main point wasn't that fx wouldn't follow xie lian technically but that he wouldn't do it while aligning his wishes with xie lian's... like he would still try to percieve xl as dianxia. When xl was away for a whole month bc of the swords temple and got back fx's first reaction was to hit him. He lashed out!! That's fine he's allowed to do that but it was egoistic. He always cared, and i agree that xl is at fault too for closing off, but fx never tried to breach his fence. As you wrote it comes from hes servant's mentality - he didn't ever push (neither in jian lan's case nor in xie lian's) or tried to wrap his head around other's inner struggles.

also nah dw i dont take it as nitpicking! just discussion 😊💜

As for XL seeing BWX, yes he does tell FX, but upon my reread, FX never really gives a clear and definite indicator of belief within his responses to XL. The only scene we see that seems to even maybe imply that FX doesnt believe him is the conversation XL overhears FX having w his parents. Who, to FX, are still the King and Queen. His superiors. FX can only communicate what he does know and must trust that XL will tell him the rest when he can. Maybe this is just my personal take, but I honestly don't think FX believes OR disbelieves XL. I think its a bit of both, which makes him very internally conflicted. He is confused and scared at how XL is acting now simply bc, as we said, he doen't understand why. Something doesn't add up bc he doesnt have the full picture since XL is avoiding the topic, as we both agreed. But FX does try! And we know he tries, especially to give XL the benefit of the doubt, because even in the face of a newly ascended MQ, who is the one who first tells FX point blank about XLs theft, he entirely denies it, assuming its MQs lie or theres more to the story he doesnt know, when XL subsequently freaks out. Because thats the most plausible assumption FX can come up with, given what (he thinks) he already knows about XL through their history. And yes, like we both say, FX may not push XL, but that doesn't mean he's not trying to understand him internally, on his own, when he encounters a situation where he realizes he doesnt. But you must remember, FX is a battle, war, and combat genius, his innate strengths don't lie in emotional intelligence no matter how hard he may try to understand XL by himself.

Back to the convo w the King and Queen, im sure FX feels a sense of responsibility to prove to them that he knows how to take care of their son. I'm also sure they had a hand in appointing him as XLs bodyguard in the first place, and I think that skews his answer to them bc its oversimplified and BECAUSE he himself still doesn't have a full answer. But he wants to show the King and Queen (and himself! ...i swear this poor boy has hella self worth issues) that he's capable and still useful to them and his prince. And unfortunately, XL overhears this oversimplified, and not necessarily accurate answer (& not meant for his ears in the first place) when he's in a VERY defensive state and feels like he's alone with no one there for him and now introduced to the possibly theyre even against him. And this is what I meant abt the miscommunication between FX & XL and XL's unreliable narration. XL may feel that way (and understandably so!) but FX is still trying as best he can to find a reason (sidenote: I do headcanon FX as being unable to lie to XL too, at least fully. Thats never mentioned, but I do think it fits) And AGAIN, when XL hears this, he runs. He barely gives FX a chance to talk to him, let alone listen to what he does say immediately after. Very similar to what happens when he tells FX later to leave without ANY discussion.

As for when XL returns, FX was not right to hit him. Not at all. And it's so sad about the timing because I feel like thats the true beginning of the end for them. But I do understand why. And its not at all because it comes from an egoistic place. From FXs pov, XL has been gone without word, for over a month at this point. Jian Lan has also kicked FX out during this time. And you bet your ass I believe that was partially bc FX was running around all that time in a crazed panic trying to find XL and mitigate the King & Queen's worries abt their son. He's stressed. And we know FX shows his stress through anger, through a form of lashing out. Like swearing (most commonly) and fighting (tho usually w MQ).

However, there are 2 tiny yet INCREDIBLY important details MXTX mentions after FX clocks him. First, XL, one of the strongest martial gods to ever ascend, crumples to the ground like no more than a rotten tree trunk. Second, after throwing the punch, FX immediately freezes and looks at his fist. My interpretation? FX never expected the hit to even land, let alone knock XL entirely to the ground. It is very well known in this story how exceptional XL is at EVERYTHING: martial arts, strength, cultivation, etc. He's unparalleled. And im sure FX knows this intimately. Through watching him, sparring w him, or simply just the years he's spent by his side. FX himself may be strong (he does eventually ascend via his "martial might") but no matter how much power is behind a hit, it doesnt matter if it doesn't land. Like if XL dodges. But he doesn't. He doesnt even counter. Debatably, he doesn't even see it coming. And therefore, FX lands the hit, and HARD. And the shock he shows through looking back to his fist, the hand that just HIT Xie Lian, who he's sworn his life to keep from all harm, I think proves the hit itself was not his intention. Just his way of showing he was upset (another sidenote: i think this really shakes him. His demeanor toward XL changes too immediately after, even helping him right back up and changing to speak with softer words toward him. And I do headcanon this interaction as a core momory of his that disgusts him abt himself for awhile, if not the rest of his very long life) If he was egoistic, I doubt he'd care enough to even look for him let alone be upset enough to even have the thought to hit him. He still wasn't right to. Not at all. But it absolutely did not come from a self-centered place. It came from concern. From fear. Because he has ALWAYS cared about XL's safety, and in all that time, XL put him in a position where FX couldn't do anything to protect him let alone know what happened to him or if he was even alive.

And to your main point, that FX may follow XL in practice but not have his heart in it, (thank you for clarifying ...but) my interpretation still stands. Yes, at this point FX is used to dianxia!XL. Its the only XL he knows. My point is that FX has proven himself to want to align with XL's goals anyway, whatever they are. If im remembering right, its the Queen that, while asking XL to bring FX back, reminds him that FX isnt just his bodyguard but also his best friend. That isnt part of FXs job description. That was his own choice.

FX doesnt follow XL just because he's loyal to Taizi Dianxia. He follows XL because he's loyal to Xie Lian... who also happens to be only Taizi Dianxia...at first!

The concept that XL felt restricted by the role FX places on him is multifaceted. There is not just one reason. And thats what my post was trying to explain.

That: (these # correspond to my prev rb)

1) FX does not realize that his intention of the pedastal he places XL on may not always align with the actual resultant way XL percieves being placed on said pedastal

because...

2) XL has not communicated that to FX for FX to properly empathise or understand him, so FX can't know he should adjust this approach of "help" to XL during his banshiment struggles

because...

3) its the approach FX has always used since way back when (in Xianle and heaven) it worked, bc XL still had yet to experience failure and the change in his worldview that came with it

however...

4) XL has built this wall limiting real vulnerable communication between him and FX out of fear because for the first time in his life, he himself is terrified of this brand new feeling of unpredictable drastic changes in himself, his life, and his values, which hes still trying not to drown in. And that fear comes from not knowing how FX will react to him confessing that he cant be "perfect" anymore (given FXs habitual pedastal-ing) since its never something he had to, or ever imagined doing

so...

5) XL makes sure to build that wall of fear up higher to avoid the unpredictable (and possibly undesirable) response that may come with confessing to FX that he's uncomfortable with, and doesnt anymore fit, the old version of himself, that FX has always and currently can only see him as

and therefore...

TLDR:

6) FX will be sent away without any explanation and spend 800 years never really knowing "why" but even after all that time, when their paths cross again, FX will continue to fall back into old habits based on the limited amount of what he knows about XL, while he STILL tries to find a way to understand XL without pushing too hard. Because he doesn't even know if XL wants him back in his life.

In conclusion, and based on all this,I want to make two things clear:

1. Feng would have stayed if never told to leave, or asked to come back.

BUT

2. Xie Lian's headspace prevents him from thinking clearly in the first place and is why he drives FX off, and believes this act to be irreperable so he doesnt try to get him back

Both of these truths can mutually exist.

Feng Xin would have stayed if asked. But canon Xie Lian would have never asked. So it's not FX's lack of loyalty thats the deciding factor. It's actually XL's decision.

All of Xie Lian's and Feng Xin's actions are consistent to their characters, and absolutely & completely justified. And, to me, thats the painfully wonderful and tortuous beauty I find in their dynamic. I empathise with both of them dearly, so I know there was no possible other way this could've played out between them (tho I can dream 🤪).

Through no fault of either party, the few small holes in their relationship in combination with a situation meant to rip those holes wide open (thanks, Jun Wu) is ultimately what led to this result.

These are also holes that Hualian's relationship does NOT have. And by comparison, shows how unbreakable their bond is. There's no point of failure that could ever be exploited to rip them apart.

Unlike, unfortunately, as we see with Fenglian.

fin

edit: I had a whole section about comparing FX and HC's loyalty, but Tumblr fkn ate it, so I'm just gonna link you to this post where i say...

'why are you being like this? when did. you become this way?' feng xin mumbled. 'i...i really don't know...i'm... why did i follow you all this time--?' 'then stop following,' xie lian said. feng xin couldn't wrap his head around that. 'what?' 'i said, don't follow me anymore,' xie lian repeated.

heaven official's blessing, pg 273

#hi im incapable of being short winded abt fl ig #tgcf #xie lian #feng xin #fenglian #hualian #tgcf meta #feng xin meta

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