#dust of us

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 01

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 2.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

AGE: 27 years old

“Where are you going?” Baekhyun asks, stretching as you get out of bed and grab all of your clothes. It was late but you hate sleeping in another bed than yours.

“I should go home.” You simply say, pulling on your panties and jeans as the younger man whines, flipping on his back.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, stay the night.” He suggests as you shake your head with an apologetic smile while putting your bra on.

“Hyesun is getting married, tomorrow. I need to get up early,” You explain, but it was an excuse. You don’t want to be more than intimate enough with anyone.

Once fully clothed, you grab your keys and turn to look at the man still laying completely naked in bed. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Aight, boss,” He teases making you roll your eyes. “One last kiss?”

“Bye,” You smile closing the door of his room, hearing him laugh before making your way out of his apartment.

Once in your car, you sigh, leaning on your seat as you stare at the ceiling. Eleven pm already, and tomorrow’s list kept growing in your mind.

Your way home was silent, you didn’t even put music on, mentally listing all the tasks to do tomorrow morning. Drive Hyesun to the hairstylist, make sure that the flowers are delivered, get her dress, and a lot more.

The house should already be decorated by now. Hyesun was getting married at her in-law’s house. They have a big yard and suggested to make the reception in there. Since you couldn’t be here to help today, you ended up with the stressful tasks tomorrow. Her friends aren’t yours.

Yes, you still have a small circle of friends in common, but Hyesun was a sunshine and most of all: an extrovert. She met her husband by boldly asking his number at a coffee shop where he was working, five years ago. Something you could never. That’s probably why you’re still single and she’s getting married.

Kicking your shoes off at your front door, you’re greeted by your cat. He was a little terror. Or a demon like Namjoon loves to call him. And you can’t blame your friend. Not only was Trash a black cat with only one ear, the other got cut off. You don’t know how.

He was already like that when you adopted him. He was skinny and really ugly when you first got him. Well... he’s still ugly, but now he’s well-fed, maybe too much, you chuckle as you kneel to scratch the top of his head. But he was also a tiny demon who attacked everyone who dared to visit you.

“Did you miss me?” You coo as the black cat let out a meow husky enough to let you think that he smokes too many cigarettes. He’s not a loud cat, he occasionally meows when he’s hungry or when you come home after a long day.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the fat cat follows you. Opening the fridge, you take out a bottle of water and gives him a treat. Your eyes fall on the dress you’ll wear tomorrow, hanged at the bedroom door.

The wedding theme was midnight sky. So, obviously, your dress is navy blue and long enough to end at your ankles with a slit on the right side. You didn’t choose it, Hyesun did.

Palming your face, you take a sip of your water and walk to your bedroom. You need a shower. You could still smell Baekhyun’s cheap cologne on your skin. And you hate it. Too used to your own scent. Not of any men anymore.

The wedding was beautiful, but you didn’t expect less from your best friend. And she was gorgeous in her wedding dress. She smiles a lot, but you never see her smile that way. And all you could think was that her jaw muscles probably hurt after four hours.

“No, what I want, is a whole butterfly starting from my shoulders to my ribs,” Your friend, Hwan explains to you as she flips to show her bare back. You can’t help but scoff, taking a sip of your wine.

“Why? You want to become a fairy or something?” You ask arching a brow as she turns to face you, frowning.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Hwan pouts, folding her arms under her chest, “I saw it on Pinterest, I totally fell in love with it.”

“A tattoo is for life, you know?” You sigh, finishing your glass before tilting your head to brush your fingers on her back, right where her ribs are. “And this part is sensitive. It’ll hurt like hell.”

Hwan shivers at your touch, and you chuckle. You know her. She wants a tattoo today, a piercing tomorrow and in two weeks she’ll regret both. The red head -a dye she did without a second thought- rolls her eyes.

“And you think I can’t handle the pain?” She asks with an attitude, a tone that makes you pinch her forearm as she squirms and step back. “Are you crazy?”

“You can’t handle the pain, Hwan.” You conclude while she rubs the part that start to turn red.

“You’re the worst tattoo artist I know. I’ll give you a bad review on Google.” She groans as you smirk and stick your tongue’s out at her, making her smile amused by you.

Your eyes scan the room full of guests you don’t know before a huge smile spread on your lips as you notice the man all alone. He was sipping his glass of whisky as he looks at his phone, feigning to be interested but he’s probably scrolling emptily. You know him. He hates when people try to connect with him.

Excusing yourself from Hwan and the other girls, you make your way to your friend, too busy on his phone to see you coming.

“Yoongs,” You call him once you’re a few steps closer to him, he lifts his cat eyes from his screen before offering you a slight smirk and opening his arms as you nestle against his chest. You’re not really touchy, but with Yoongi, it was different.

“Nice dress.” He simply says, his nose in your hair before you pull back to look at him. He looks nice too. His hair is longer, but it suits him.

“You didn’t cut your hair?” You ask as he sighs, rolling a strand between his finger as you keep an arm around his waist.

“Didn’t have the time for it.”, He mumbles taking another sip of his whisky. “I didn’t know you would be here. Since you own a tattoo shop, we don’t see you often anymore.”

“It’s my best friend’s wedding, I couldn’t miss it. She would have dragged my ass back here.” you chuckle making him smile and nod.

“That sounds like Hyesun,” He jokes as you smile.

Yoongi wasn’t that tall, but he was still everyone’s type. Calm, mysterious, and good looking. If only dating was on his plans. That guy will probably stay single his whole life, too focused on his work.

“I was looking for you everywhere!” Hyesun groans grabbing your arm.

“I was here,” You simply reply, raising your shoulders, making Yoongi looks at you both amused. You probably get along because you’re both sarcastic. At least you know that’s something he likes about you.

“Thanks Sherlock, Mystery solved!” She rolls her eyes, before pulling you away from your friend, “Come on, follow me, I want to take pictures with you.”

She quickly waves at Yoongi, blowing a kiss at him as he didn’t move before pushing you away.

“He’s like a good old wine. Every time I see him, he’s getting hotter.” She smirks as you make your way to the photographer.

“Aren’t you married?” You joke making her roll her eyes.

“Married, not blind. As long as I touch with my eyes,” She adds as you shake your head, laughing, joining the girls.

Yoongi leaves his empty glass on the table next to him, an amused smirk on his face. If you stayed longer, he would have been part of an interesting reunion.

“Shit, I almost peed myself. There is a whole queue at the male bathroom,” The younger man groans, coming back next to Yoongi as he takes back his beer. “Hyung?”

The older man turns to his friend and arches a brow to show that he’s listening.

“Hyesun told me that there was a private bathroom upstairs for the closest friends” Yoongi simply mumbles, making Jungkook groans as he ties his hair into a bun.

“And you tell me only now?” the tattooed man sighs as he pulls up his sleeves, the temperature of the room getting hotter. Or maybe it’s him from running here and there.

“You left without a word,” Yoongi shrugs like it was obvious, his eyes still on the group of girls making funny faces at the camera. Jungkook lets out a chuckle.

“Which one?” He asks his friend who simply arches a brow. “I’m sure it’s the red head. You always had a think for girls with weird hair colors.”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He’s used to the teasing. It’s a loss of energy, Jungkook was competitive and if you say that the sky was blue, he would tell otherwise until you tell him he's right.

Jungkook smiles proudly, turning his attention to the bunch of girls. Hyesun had pretty friends, but he’s not surprised. Until he recognized a face. A face he knows too well, a face he loved deeply once upon a time.

You didn’t change. Well… Your hair is shorter. You never liked your hair short, not after your mother spent your childhood cutting it into a bob.

The bangs too. You hated them. But today, you wore it gracefully. His doe eyes trail the length of it, how it brushes your shoulders when you laugh, how you have to push your bang asides.

He never hated you. Even after you broke his heart. Even after coming home to an empty apartment because you disappeared, or when you blocked his number and changed yours. He never hated you.

“You said she wasn’t here.” He frowns, turning to Yoongi who simply arches a brow.

“She wasn’t supposed to.” Yoongi replies, taking a sip of his new glass.

“I shouldn’t have come.” Jungkook sighs, his brows still in a frown creating a slight wrinkle between them.

“Kookie,” Yoongi turns his gaze to his friend who’s clearly uncomfortable. “You’re back in town. You both have the same friends group. What did you expect? You’ll have to confront her one day or another.”

“Y/N,” Hwan calls you as you were taking another glass of wine, facing her with a small hm? “The guy you talked earlier,”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you know his friend?” She asks as you follow her gaze to the large man next to Yoongi, his back facing you. You liked the tattoos, and the muscular frame. The long hair was clearly a bonus.

“No,” You reply, your eyes trailing on Yoongi’s friend. You’ll definitely ask Yoongi who that is later.

“He’s hot,” Hwan comments as you nod, taking a sip of your wine before spitting everything out. You cough when the mysterious man turns around, laughing with your friend.

And almost immediately, you hide behind the table that separates you. Was this a joke?

“What’s wrong? One of your one-night stands?” Hwan chuckles clearly amused to see you, on your knees, trying to hide under the table. If only you could be sucked up by the floor. It was stupid. It was an old story. It’s been seven years since you dumped him like an old, forgotten sock.

“It’s my ex,” You almost whisper, making Hwan wide her eyes and hide with you like she even met him before.

You never thought that you’ll see him again. He disappeared for Japan right after your breakup for his studies. And you didn’t think about him since then. Well, it’s a lie.

You thought about him the three first years after your split. But, he was just some old memories from the shoebox under your bed. 

Some love letters written by a teenage boy, an empty bottle of perfume and a shirt of his that you didn’t have the heart to throw. But that’s all he was. A shoebox of memories.

“Oh damn,” Hwan murmurs, “How did you get that hot piece of man?” She asks as you roll your eyes.

He wasn’t that hot when you started dating him. He had a chestnut haircut, was too skinny even if he was the sporty type, and huge doe eyes. Now he’s…. a man.

“I think… I need to get out”, You swallow, get up and finish your glass. Walking to the backyard, you catch a bottle on your way.

Thankfully, Hwan didn’t follow you. A few persons were outside, some of them making out, the others too drunk, and probably getting some fresh air like you.

Did Hyesun invite him? Why did he come? He knows that she’s your friend. That you’d be here. Palming your face, you lean back against the wall, taking a sip of your bottle of champagne. Fuck… This is childish. You’re twenty-seven, for God’s sake. Act like an adult.

“Hiding?” You heard on your right, making you almost jump.

And here he was, a few meters away, a bottle of beer in hand. His eyes changed. He grew up.

“Good evening, Jungkook,” You breathe as he offers you a slight smile, his lips mostly forming a line.

“Good evening, Y/N,” He replies, making a few steps closer, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah...”

A silence falls between you before he takes a breath like he wants to calm his nerves too. Were you two nervous around each other?

“How… have you been?” He asks with a soft voice.

“Good. You?”

“Good.”

“Nice.”

You wanted to punch yourself. That conversation was stupid. Back then, you two could debate about everything for hours. Now, you can’t even have a basic conversation.

“I… Didn’t know you were back.” You say, looking at the grass at your feet.

“Yeah… I- I missed Korea.” He raises his shoulders slightly before taking a sip of his beer.

“Oh…Okay.” You scrunch your nose and take a sip of your bottle to not look too much stupid but his lips crease in an amused smile at the bottle in your hand. Neither of you says anything. And it’s weird. “That’s… some cool tattoos,” You add, trying to make the conversation as you point his entire inked sleeve with your chin.

“Yeah?” He chuckles awkwardly. “I always wanted tattoos.”

“I know.” You reply, almost immediately, making him lift his gaze to you as your eyes widen. “You- hm- You thought that Yakuza were cool.” you continue as he nods, his eyes still on you while you look away.

“You remembered.”

You clench your jaw slightly and take another sip of champagne. You hate champagne, but you didn’t read what was written on the bottle when you took it.

“Your father must be proud of you. I heard you had your own tattoo shop.” He says as your gaze soften. Jungkook and your dad were always close, he even called him ‘son’. Your father was in fact, proud of you.

“He is”, was all you could reply, and he nods silently before taking a deep breath.

“Can I… ask you a question? I need to understand something” He frowns a little, turning his head to look at the backyard before finally glancing back at you. He is waiting for you to answer and you simply stare at him. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?”

< previous - MASTERLIST - next >

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

[spacerockband]

Quetzalcoatlus! poised to spear her prey!

[greykolla-art]

Imagine spending all your energy being cool and mysterious 24/7.

What an idiot have I mentioned I love him?

Idea came from a cool post @nouverx made about Alastor’s possible sleeping habits. 💕

[xoxohannas-world]

the world is a terrible place when my hair is unwashed

[sparklejumpropequeen1949]

This or nothing

[yuumiheartt]

low key a cunt

[imareallifeangel]

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིi really like you. I'm gonna be really sad if you don't come back, unless you tell me ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

[egophiliac]

since Eng is getting 7.5 soon(?), I felt motivated to go back to my Meleanor rig and make her a couple of lesson animations! ...except for alchemy, because the cauldron bubbles proved too hard to photoshop around, whoops.

maybe she just got lost on her way to the classroom...?

(credit: backgrounds are from the game, I just put her on top of 'em)

(aside from the backgrounds, this is not an edit, I drew her from scratch! please do not tag or treat as an edit!)

[bixels]

“America has no culture” is an inherently racist statement. Especially when talking about California, which has enormous populations (yes, plural) of Hispanic and Asian immigrants.

It’s such a self report that you see the American hegemony, the American monolith, as a singularly white entity that’s worthy of scorn. I want that person to look at the Black American NYC Miku design and tell me with their full chest that that isn’t culture. Especially when modern pop culture owes so much to Black American culture — hip hop, language, streetwear and fashion, pop music, jazz — as is actively erasing their roots, saying all of America has no culture is a dumbass statement.

Also, “all the US Mikus are dressed in generic casual street style for coolish weather.” The original Brazilian Miku is wearing sunglasses, a crop top, short shorts, a bikini, and flip flops you absolute dunce. If you’re gonna be rude at least be consistent.

[pigeonstab]

Dance!Killer I always talk about but never draw

ref

[peachesofteal]

The wallflower.

Johnny clocks it immediately, your shoulders practically pinned against the pale-yellow wall, pint glass slick with condensation cradled between your fingers. Your eyes dart around and then away, finding something to study in the carpet, or the stairs, on the coffee table.

You’re not comfortable here, that much is clear.

He elbows Simon. “Poor girl looks nervous.” Simon gives you a furtive glance over the rim of his glasses, and nods.

“Probably only knows one person. Or got dragged here.” It’s Kyle’s wife’s birthday party. She has a lot of friends it seems, well liked in all facets of her life, work and otherwise. He clucks his tongue. “Sweet thing.” Someone bumps into you, and then pivots, reaching out to grab your arm in apology. You don’t tell him off or pull away. You just glance at his hand, meek smile stretching your lips sour. It turns Johnny’s stomach.

“She needs rescuing.”

“Johnny.” There’s a warning in Simon’s tone, a reproachful sentiment that he knows well. No strays. No projects. No more shelter pets.

“Ach c’mon. Look at her.” That one muscle in Simon’s cheek feathers, the one that says everything without Simon saying anything at all. Broken resolve.

He sighs. Johnny grins.

“Ye alright?” The man who’s taken up a residence at your shoulder is now speaking to you. Worse, he’s asking you if you’re alright.  

“I… I’m good. Yeah. Fine.” You grip your glass tighter, ignoring the flip of your stomach. You snuck at glance at him when he first came over, and that was enough. He’s very handsome.

And you’re, well-

You’re… you.

“Someone ditch ye?” Oh god.

“Uh, no. My friend is over there.” You point to Anna’s back. She’s in the kitchen, laughing so loud you can hear her from across the living room.

“Ah. She did ditch ye.”

“No!” You glare at him, “No.”

“But she didnae offer to introduce you to anyone?” You wince, and his eyes flicker with sympathy. “Ah, she did.”

“I’m not good with… people.” The understatement of the year. You don’t do people. People are too unpredictable, too much of an unknown. A pattern of behavior will only take you so far, and it’s hard to forecast their actions, reactions, words, emotions… everything.

You prefer safer bets. Predictable things. Equations, mostly.

“Ye’re not good w’people, but ye’re at a party.”

“Yes, it’s quite a feat.” You snap your mouth shut, expecting him to give you a weird look, but he laughs.

“If ye’re uncomfortable, why stay?”

“Because, social interactions are good for me. And I promised myself a slice of cheese pizza if I made it an hour.” He should laugh. Most would. Most would think it’s fucking hilarious, how you’re bribing yourself, dangling a carrot in front of your face.

But this guy doesn’t. He doesn’t laugh. He cocks his head, and frowns. “So… ye’re torturing yourself so ye can earn a slice of pizza.” A nervous giggle bubbles up and out your throat.

“It sounds bad when you put it that way but-“

“It is bad.” A deep voice sounds from over your shoulder, and you jump.

“This is Simon.” Your new… friend, Johnny, motions to the hulking man at your side, and you manage a nod, spitting out your name. “He’s no’ scary, just looks it.” Johnny reaches for his hand, and the equation clicks to together with ease.

Oh.

“You here with a friend?”

“Uh. Yep.” You point to Anna, again, and they exchange a look.

“She ditch ya?” Same question, different accent, and you’re about to give the same answer, when Johnny intercedes.

“She’s here so she can have a slice of pizza.” Yeah. It sounds bad.

“Wot?”

“I… It’s good for me to be around people so I said if I could do it for an hour, I could have pizza.” They’re both wearing expressions you can’t translate, two faces you don’t understand, and it twists you up.

“Do you usually ransom yourself pizza?”

“N-no.”

“Is it… an eating thing?”

“Oh, no. It’s like… I’d rather be at home, but everyone says socializing is… important. So, for doing something I hate, I get pizza.” Simon sighs.

“Trying to fit a square into a circle.” The comment is puzzling, but as you’re trying to put it together, Johnny links his pinky with yours and tugs you closer. The room is quiet, the music, the laughing, the chatter, all of it goes silent. There are dozens and dozens of people in here, but right now, it’s just you and these two. Staring at one another. There’s a web thin string spinning from him, to you, to Simon, and it’s wrapping you up, cocooning you, holding you tight.

“This okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Ye wannae go get that slice with us?” Do it. Just do it. Do something. You take a deep breath.

“Sure.”  

They look comical, shoved into the pleather red booth across the table from you, Simon far too wide to comfortably accommodate Johnny, but they don’t seem to mind. “So, cheese then?” You nod, picking at the faded corner of a menu. This was a bad idea, this was stupid. What were you thinking? Why-

“Three slices of cheese please.” You hadn’t even noticed the server, and you panic when she starts to turn away.

“And a coke!” You blurt, immediately embarrassed. She stares at you for a second before nodding, forcing a smile, and walking off. Fuck. You press your palm down on the table, trying to focus on the texture, the feel of it.

“Hey,” Simon says softly, “you didn’t do anything wrong.” You bristle.

“I know that.” Of course you know… don’t you?

Clearly not.

They don’t try to force you into conversation, but they do talk to you. They don’t ask you pointed questions or try to dig into you, instead choosing to tell you about themselves, their dog, their jobs. They keep you involved without dragging you in unwillingly.

It’s nice.

You’re halfway through your slice when you realize they’re watching you.

 “What? Is there something on my face?” You frantically wipe at your chin, your cheeks. Simon’s mouth quirks.

“Nothing on your face, sweet girl.” Your brain scrambles. Words fail. You don’t think anyone has ever called you something like that before.

“Oh. Okay. Well. Good.” Stupid.

“Go on and finish up.” He instructs, pointing at the grease laden slice, and you bring it to your mouth obediently. “Want to come for a walk with us after this? Our favorite park is around the corner, and the moon is really bright tonight.” A walk. With them. A walk? What does that mean? Just like, a walk?

Do it. Just do it. Do something. Be brave.

You roll your shoulders, and take a bite of your pizza, chewing slowly and swallowing.

And then you nod.

“Yes.”

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 07

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: +4.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

Jungkook stared at Jimin’s message for a while before locking his phone the moment he heard you move. He placed his phone on the nightstand and turned his attention to you, propping himself up on his elbow. You’re going to hate him. He just got you back, and he’s terrified you might slip through his fingers again. 

He knows what he did is wrong, that Hina is waiting for him. But he can’t help but wonder where you two could be or what you could become. Your story wasn’t over when you broke up with him, and now that he knows the reason, he wants you even more.

“What are you looking at?” you mumble, burying your face in the pillow. Jungkook chuckles softly.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, and you shake your head. “How do you feel?”

“Like a truck hit me,” you groan, your hand blindly patting the bed, searching for his touch. He smiles, knowing exactly what you're doing.

His fingers find yours as you pull both hands against your chest. He knows he has to learn all about you again, the woman you’ve become. Jungkook leans closer, brushing the messy strands of your bangs away from your forehead.

“What do you want to do?”

“Die,” you mumble, making him chuckle. “Sorry... about last night.”

Jungkook tilts his head curiously as you sigh and lift your eyes to meet his.

“When... I tried to ruin everything with sex,” you confess, swallowing hard. His eyes soften at your words.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Can we... just stay like this for an hour or two before going out?” you ask, clearly embarrassed, like a child requesting something timidly.

He closes the distance between your bodies, wrapping his free arm around you and kissing the top of your head.

“Anything you want, Nabi,” he murmurs against your hair as you relax.

His fingertips trace the curve of your spine softly while your hands find their way under his shirt to caress the skin of his back. It’s something you used to do when you were a couple, and Jungkook feels content. 

He doesn’t want to think about the mess he’s in, or about his fiancée. Right now, he just wants to stay with you—forever, if possible. He hopes you want the same.

“Are you still up for that date?” Jungkook asks, watching as you lift your head to meet his eyes.

“Pay me,” you joke, your face deadpan.

“How much?” he plays along, freezing when you close the distance and kiss him softly.

Jungkook cups your face, deepening the kiss just a little. He doesn’t want to go further; he just wants to feel you.

“Fuck, Nabi,” he whispers, brushing his lips against yours, his eyes still closed. “I need an extra pillow now.”

“What?” you chuckle, confused, as he grabs a small pillow and places it between your bodies near his crotch. “You’re getting hard from a kiss?”

“I always get hard when it’s you,” he groans, embarrassed by his body’s lack of control.

Before you can tease him, he’s kissing you again, mostly to shut you up but also because he can’t resist. You let out a slight moan that makes his situation worse, but he pushes his dirty thoughts aside and focuses on enjoying the moment. His body has always reacted to you. He realized this when you sat on his lap at sixteen, and he had to hold his breath.

Jungkook spends the morning watching you walk around the hotel room—first to wash your face, then to grab your clothes. Even when you scold him for staring, he just grins. On your way to your father’s apartment, his hand reaches for yours while he drives. He needs to touch you, too scared that this might all be a dream.

Your father is the first to make fun of you when he sees you step inside, still wearing Jungkook’s clothes. Jungkook smirks as you head to your room to take a shower and get ready for your date. He sits next to your dad on the couch, extending his hand as your father groans and reluctantly hands over some cash.

“You should be ashamed, taking advantage of your in-law,” your father grumbles, and Jungkook smirks.

“You’re the one who loves to bet,” he says playfully.

“Sometimes I forget how competitive you are, kid,” the older man says, shaking his head in amusement.

“I always win,” Jungkook replies with a grin. “And this time’s no different,” he adds, glancing at the bathroom door.

Your father studies Jungkook's profile for a moment before sighing with a fond smile.

“Thank you,” he says unexpectedly.

“For what?” Jungkook asks, surprised, turning to face him.

“For loving her, even through the bad.”

Jungkook’s expression softens as he chuckles.

“Ah, Ahjussi, you’re getting sentimental,” Jungkook teases, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“Always when it’s about her,” your father replies, patting Jungkook’s arm affectionately. “But I’m serious. You know how much I love her. I’d never let any man get close if I wasn’t sure his intentions were good.”

“She’s twenty-seven,” Jungkook reminds him with a soft smile.

“She’ll always be four years old to me,” your dad retorts, and Jungkook nods, understanding.

Jungkook wonders if he’ll see his future daughter the way your father sees you: his little girl, no matter how old she gets. Or if he’ll even have a daughter one day.

“I know you’re a good guy. I’ve seen you two grow up together. If it were up to me, I’d have married her off to you a long time ago.”

“Argh, stop, I’m blushing,” Jungkook laughs, still watching your father. “Too bad fathers can’t decide that stuff anymore,” he jokes, and your dad smiles.

“Even if I could, she’d beat both our asses if we tried,” your father chuckles, and Jungkook agrees.

Jungkook knows your father was—and still is—your biggest supporter in your relationship. When Jungkook was younger, he thought his future girlfriend’s father would be an overprotective bear who would make his life difficult. But your dad was different. From the moment they met, your father treated Jungkook like his own son, teaching him how to fight, letting him stay at his apartment when he needed, and even after you two broke up, Jungkook would still visit your father whenever he was in town, always bringing a bottle of sake.

“I’m going to win her back,” Jungkook whispers as he hears the shower stop.

Your father’s lips stretch into a soft smile before he turns his attention back to the TV. It doesn’t take long before you appear, dressed warmly for the cold November weather. Jungkook can’t help but smile. He remembers how nervous you were on your first date, spending hours picking out the perfect outfit and styling your hair.

“I’m ready,” you say, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and shoving your hands in your pockets.

He loves how comfortable you’ve become, casually dressed for what feels like a second-first date. Jungkook stands up, waving at your father as he joins you.

“I’ll be back before eight,” you say. Your father nods and hums softly as you turn away, Jungkook placing a hand on the small of your back as he follows you out.

After stopping at a convenience store for snacks and a fast-food market, Jungkook parks the car in the familiar spot you used to visit together. He refuses to let you carry any of the bags, which frustrates you. When you reach the shore, you immediately kick off your shoes to feel the sand beneath your feet.

“I’ll spend the day with my parents tomorrow,” he announces as he sits down beside you.

“I told you,” you reply, opening the bag and pulling out your drink. “I knew your mom wouldn’t be happy that you’re in town but not with her.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know everything, don’t you?”

“Call me God,” you smirk, and he chuckles, pulling a blanket from the car and draping it over your shoulders.

“You should put your shoes back on, ‘God.’ You’ll lose a toe,” he teases, and you simply tuck your feet under yourself, sitting on your knees.

“How long are you staying at Jimin’s?” you ask, taking a bite of your burger.

“Maybe another month or two. I’m looking for a place. Why?” he says, tossing a fry in his mouth before opening a can of cola.

“Just asking,” you shrug, swallowing your bite as you look out at the shore. “If you get too annoyed with him, I have an extra room. For a few days, I mean.”

“We spent the night in the same bed,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, amused.

“I was drunk.”

“Not when you kissed me this morning.”

“Shut up,” you groan, pulling your knees to your chest as you eat your burger in silence.

Jungkook presses his lips together, trying not to grin as he unwraps his own burger. He’s holding back his feelings. If he were alone, he’d probably be kicking his feet like a giddy teenager because right now, he finds you incredibly cute with your blushing cheeks. No other woman makes him feel like this.

“But... I’m serious. If you want to stay at mine... I know how Jimin can be overwhelming. So, if you need a place to breathe, you can come to me,” you mumble, looking away.

His smile softens as he nods.

“You know, you shouldn’t say things like that because I hear you loud and clear, and I’ll be at yours the second we get back to Seoul,” Jungkook teases, taking a sip of his drink.

“Maybe I want you to,” you nearly whisper, making his heart skip a beat as you shift your attention back to the beach. “The sunset in Busan is prettier,” you say, quickly changing the subject.

His eyes follow yours, staring out at the horizon before drifting back to you. He knows you can feel him watching you, but he doesn’t care.

“Do you really want to try again?”

The question lingers in the air, surprising him. Are you opening the door?

“Do you?” he asks, his fingers playing absently in the sand.

“I... I think you’re right. Our story wasn’t over when I broke up with you,” you say, taking a deep breath. “And I think we won’t be able to move on unless we see where... this could take us,” you add, gesturing between the two of you.

The way you say it makes him frown slightly. It’s almost as if you’re giving your relationship a second chance to prove that you weren’t meant to be together—to help you grieve properly.

“Do you really want to try again?” Jungkook asks softly, watching as you chew on the inside of your cheek.

“I... want to,” you reply shyly before meeting his gaze.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he replies gently before taking a deep breath. “Do you want this?”

His eyes never leave yours. He’s holding his breath, terrified of your answer.

“Yes,” you say with more conviction. “I hate when you make me say things out loud.”

“I’m a little dumb. I need to hear it clearly,” he jokes, pushing the food aside to scoot closer, stealing a corner of the blanket to wrap himself with you. “I want to try again. But only if you want that too.”

Jungkook gently pushes a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb grazing your jaw.

“I don’t want to try again just to properly grieve the breakup. I want this because I know we’re meant to be.”

“Says who?” you ask with a playful smile.

“Me. You. We both know we’re meant to be together. Ever since I saw you hit that girl with your tray,” he teases, and you scoff, shaking your head.

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?”

“That was hot.”

He watches as you move closer, your fingers brushing his cheek before you lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth, so softly that he almost doesn’t feel it.

“Let’s try again,” you whisper, resting your forehead against his as you close your eyes. He can sense the vulnerability in your words. “Not to grieve. Not to stay stuck in the memories we made. I want to learn about the person you’ve become. And...”

Fall in love again. Jungkook knows what you’re about to say. But both of you leave the words unspoken. You need to rediscover who you are now and learn to love the new versions of yourselves.

“I want that too,” Jungkook murmurs before pulling back, smiling at you. “Alright. Once we’re back in Seoul, I’m taking you on a fancy date and wooing you properly.”

You chuckle softly at his words, watching as he gets up while you wrap the blanket around yourself like a cocoon.

“Aren’t we already on a date?” you ask, pushing your hair away as the wind whips it back across your face.

Jungkook takes off his cap and places it on your head to keep your hair out of your face. He remembers how you always forgot to bring a hair tie. Back then, your hair was long enough to twist into a bun without one.

“Of course, it’s a date. I plan on driving you home and stealing a kiss after complimenting you all afternoon,” he grins as you stand up, wrapping yourself tightly in the blanket.

“Please don’t,” you laugh, shaking your head, and he shrugs, making no promises.

Jungkook pulls his mother into a warm hug with one arm, his other hand carrying his travel bag. He had spent the day with his family, and since he was leaving today, his mother had prepared way too much food for everyone, even for his brother and sister-in-law.

“Don’t forget this,” she says, handing him plastic bags full of packed lunches for him and Jimin. “And tell Jimin to visit us next time.”

“Yes, mom,” Jungkook smiles, amused, kissing the top of her head.

When he hears the honk of your car, his eyes shift toward it, and a grin spreads across his face.

“Ah, my Uber is here,” he jokes, giving his father a quick hug before gathering all his bags. As you step out of the car to open the trunk for him, his mother calls out.

“Y/N?” She sounds unsure, making Jungkook scrunch his nose. “Oh my, look at you!” she beams, walking over to you as you shift awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Hello, Ahjumma,” you greet her with a smile before she pulls you into a hug. “You’re looking great.”

“You too. You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” his mother compliments while Jungkook places his bags in the trunk, leaning his hip against the car. “How long has it been since I last saw you?”

Jungkook smiles proudly at your interaction, watching from the sidelines as his mother holds your hands. She’s a chatterbox, and he knows you’ll be stuck here for at least ten or fifteen minutes. He frowns slightly when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out, he swallows hard. Fuck. Excusing himself, he walks a few steps away from you and his mother to answer the call.

“Hi, darling,” he whispers, turning his back to you.

“Hi, my love. How’s Busan? You didn’t send me any pictures,” Hina says, and he knows she’s probably pouting.

“I, uh, I’ve been busy with family... But I did take some photos. I’ll send them to you once I’m back in Seoul.”

His eyes drift back to you, laughing with his mother, and guilt washes over him. It feels wrong to be playing both sides.

“Oh, I can’t wait,” Hina coos, while Jungkook bites his bottom lip, his gaze still on you.

“How are you? It must be getting colder there now,” he asks, trying to focus on the conversation. He hears her soft hum and the sound of her settling into bed.

“I can’t wait to explore Seoul with you. I’m starting to pack next week. Our apartment is already on the market. Have you found anything interesting in Seoul yet?” she continues, but his attention is elsewhere, on you now hugging his mother—albeit, a bit awkwardly.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve started looking. Jimin’s helping me,” he responds, scuffing a rock with his foot, preoccupied, before her words fully register. “Wait for me; I’ll book a ticket to Tokyo to help you with the move.”

He hates what he’s doing. He should break up with her now—to avoid hurting her and to fully focus on you. But breaking up over the phone would be an asshole move. He owes her a face-to-face conversation. Plus, he doesn’t want her preparing to move to Seoul for nothing.

“Oh, my love, that’s so sweet of you,” Hina replies, her voice pitched a little higher. “I miss you. Should I start looking at tickets for next week? The sooner you’re here, the better.”

“No, don’t worry about it, darling,” he says, as you wave at him, signaling that it’s time to leave. “I have to go now. I’ll call you when I’m back in Seoul.”

Hina sighs softly, clearly disappointed not to have more time to talk with her fiancé.

“Alright... I’ll wait for your call,” she murmurs. Jungkook adjusts his cap. “I love you. Drive safely.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek. Hina has no idea that he didn’t go to Busan with someone, and certainly not you. He told her that Jimin let him borrow his car.

“I... me too,” he replies, his voice nearly a whisper before ending the call.

His stomach churns, twisted with guilt. Lying to two women feels awful, and he knows the feeling won’t go away until he resolves this mess.

“I’m going to leave you here if you don’t start running,” you tease playfully, and he nods, jogging back to the car.

Both of you wave one last time to his mother, his father now standing at the door. Once you start the engine and leave Busan behind, Jungkook is quiet, staring out the window, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Are you okay?” you ask, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yeah,” he replies, though it’s brief and followed by a shake of his head as if trying to shake off the feeling that’s eating at him. “Why?”

“Because you’re usually more talkative.” You glance at him quickly before focusing back on the road. “Do you miss your mom already?” you tease, lightening the mood, and he groans.

He’s well aware of his “mama’s boy” reputation—something both you and Jimin always teased him about.

“I didn’t think your mom would be so welcoming,” you say softly, and he arches a brow.

“She’s always loved you. She hated my first girlfriend, and all the ones after you. But never you,” he replies, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Even after we broke up, she blamed me, said it was my fault for not being able to keep you.”

Jungkook watches as you press your lips together, trying not to smile. His mom always wanted daughters, but she got two sons instead. So, when Jungkook introduced you, his mom had been over the moon—a well-mannered, lovely girl who loved her son unconditionally. You instantly became her favorite kid.

“You cut your hair?” you ask, noticing the buzz cut at the back of his head, partially hidden by his cap.

“Actually...” he grimaces, taking off his hat and glancing at himself in the rearview mirror before brushing his bangs. “My mom did. She said I have a ‘girl’s face on a man’s body with my long hair.’”

He carefully watches your reaction as you quickly glance at his new haircut before stopping at a red light, then turn to really stare at him.

“Oh, hell no,” you chuckle softly. “Forget about that second date.” You joke, and he groans, playfully nudging your shoulder.

“It’s not that bad,” he mutters, giving his reflection another look on his phone.

“It’s actually worse,” you grimace before bursting into laughter. “Does your mother know any haircut other than the awful chestnut style you always have?”

He has to admit, he does look like a chestnut. It never bothered him until you started teasing him about it.

“Argh, shut up. I think I look cute,” Jungkook sighs, adjusting his hair again.

“The ‘Kookoonut’ era is back,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m heading straight to the hairstylist as soon as we’re back in Seoul.”

“You have the same face as when you were sixteen. Except for the buff body and tattoos, I mean.” you say, sneaking another glance. Inside, he knows you’re warming up to his new look, maybe even liking it. But of course, you’d never admit it out loud.

“You still fell in love with me, even with that haircut,” he boasts, smirking when your cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink.

“I didn’t fall in love for that haircut back then,” you mumble, blushing so hard that even your ears are red. You crank up the radio to signal that the conversation is over because you’re too embarrassed.

Jungkook chuckles softly, shaking his head before turning his gaze back to the window, pulling his cap down over his head again.

“Oh, she’s going to hate you,” Yoongi chuckles, taking a sip of his beer as Jungkook palms his face. “They’re both going to hate you.”

Jimin lets out a chuckle as he sits next to Jungkook on the couch, handing him another beer.

“And what am I supposed to do?” Jungkook asks dramatically, falling back against the couch, hiding his face in his hands.

“Which one do you love more?” Yoongi asks, earning a slap on the back from Jimin before laughing. “What? It’s easier that way—to know what you want.”

“Neither Y/N nor Hina deserves to be treated like disposable objects,” Jimin scolds, and Jungkook stares blankly at the coffee table.

Jimin’s right. Neither of them deserves to be treated that way.

“I thought Jimin would pull a shitty move like that, not you,” Yoongi adds, wetting his lips as Jimin gasps dramatically.

“I’ve never done that to any woman,” Jimin groans, and Jungkook arches a brow.

“You dated three girls back in high school,” Jungkook reminds him.

“I was a teenager,” Jimin defends himself. “A stupid teenager.”

“You’re still stupid. Just now you’re an adult,” Yoongi retorts, shrugging.

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle slightly. He likes how unbothered Yoongi is, saying things casually. To people who don’t know him, Yoongi might seem pretentious, but it’s just his humor.

“So, what are you going to do?” Jimin arches a brow, ignoring Yoongi’s remark.

Sighing loudly, Jungkook looks down at his beer bottle.

“I don’t know… Should I leave Hina and try my luck with Y/N? I feel bad for her. Or should I give up on Nabi and continue with Hina?” he mumbles, wiping the condensation off his bottle with his thumb.

“Which one do you love more?” Yoongi repeats his question.

Jungkook sighs, biting the inside of his cheek. It’s an easy question, but he can’t say it out loud.

“Hina’s always been there for me…” He begins, and the other two roll their eyes. “I can’t just dump her like a trash bag, guys. She’s nice, I like her. She’s always supported my dreams and plans in life. She accepted the heartbroken guy I was and helped me get better. It would be ungrateful and disrespectful to leave her for my ex. I just can’t.”

“So, you love Nabi,” Yoongi concludes with a shrug. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back.

“Honestly, I feel bad lying to both of them,” Jimin says, absentmindedly scratching a stain on the table. “Nabi is one of our oldest friends. And Hina… she’s a sweetheart.”

“I know that,” Jungkook says, raising his voice slightly. “I know, okay? They’re both great in their own way. And I hate that one of them is going to get hurt.” He frowns, frustration creeping in.

The two men exchange a glance before Jimin sighs. “I know it’s hard, Kookie. But sooner or later, they’ll both find out. And Hina will be here soon.”

Jungkook tries to push those thoughts aside as he knocks on your door two days later. It’s Friday night, and as promised, he’s here to take you out. You open the door, your nose nearly brushing his chest before you lift your eyes to meet his.

“Sorry, I’m almost ready,” you say, stepping aside to let him in while putting on some golden earrings.

“No problem,” he replies with a smile, following you into the living room.

His eyes wander over your figure, appreciating how you’ve dressed up for him. He can’t help but admire how the black dress hugs your body. His gaze follows you as you disappear into your room, returning moments later with your heels in one hand and your iPad in the other.

“I finished the design. Tell me if you like it,” you say, handing him the tablet as he sits on the couch. He forces himself to focus on the sketch instead of you. “If something doesn’t fit right, just tell me, and I’ll correct it.”

Jungkook smiles at how meticulous you are with your work. Every little detail is exactly how he envisioned it.

“It looks good to me,” he says, watching as you sit on the coffee table to put on your heels.

“Are you sure?” you ask again, and he nods, taking one of your heels from your hand. “Alright. If you’re free next week, I’ll fit you into my schedule,” you say.

“Already eager to see me again?” he teases, gently grabbing your ankle to help you with your heel.

You don’t protest to his gesture, and stare at him with a slight smile.

“Can I ask you something, Nabi?” he says softly, and you hum in response.

“I have this friend… back in Japan. He’s seeing two girls,” Jungkook begins, focusing on slipping your foot into the heel, letting his fingers trail lightly along your leg.

You frown slightly as he picks up your other foot.

“He likes them both, but one of them is his greatest love. The other is… someone special to him.”

“Do the girls know?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“No, neither of them knows. But he knows he has to make a choice before hurting both,” Jungkook continues, busying himself with putting on your other heel.

He avoids meeting your gaze, focusing on the task.

“How would you react if you were in his position?”

You take a moment to consider the question.

“I can’t put myself in his position,” you finally reply, crossing one leg over the other, eyes still on him. “But it’s not fair to the girl who’s just ‘special.’ Deep down, he’ll always be thinking about his greatest love while he’s with her.” You continue and Jungkook nods, taking in your words. “If I’m being honest, if I were him, I’d choose the greatest love.”

“You would?”

“Hm… I have a lot of affection for Baekhyun. But you, you’re my greatest love,” you mumble, your cheeks turning rosy. Jungkook’s heart skips a beat, his eyes softening. “But if I were either of those girls, I’d dump his ass for trying to have it both ways,” you add, colder this time as you stand up.

His heart drops at your words, and he mechanically stand up too. His hands are shaking. Jungkook takes a deep breath, hiding them in his pockets.

“I hope they both find out and that he ends up alone,” You add, walking to the door. “Let’s go, I’m starving.” You smile, grabbing your coat and Jungkook knows deep down—he’s screwed.

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[blodwyrm]

[oc] 𝔏𝔦𝔬𝔫 - soft-furred cream cat with bloodshot pale eyes

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And what if I shrunk Crymini to be 16 years old and over time she becomes Husker and Angel’s guard dog/adopted child over time annakalalalsksleleew