#ff all day
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
im back to say after reading your tags/ramblings on this new jjk chapter yeah everyone shitting on shoko and yuta for this are like? how.
especially with shoko (as you know i think about her a lot) i'm not surprised she reacted this way considering she has seen all of her friends die basically and she definitely deals with dead sorcerers on the daily that she probably knew in life considering she's the main healer. in my headcanons she recognizes a lot of the people who eventually end up dead on her exam table.
plus as you mentioned her reaction to geto's mass murder is super chill. she was never going to have a breakdown over fucked up shit? at least not outwardly, unfortunately we don't really get a look in her head. also god forbid a woman have interest in dead/macabre things and/or not give 110% emotionally at all times.
personally i enjoy satosugu (insert multishipper nuance here) but the fandom surrounding the ship is very...... can you think about any other character? please??? can you also see satoru and suguru as individuals???? PLEASE?
the manga is not your satosugu fanfiction there are other characters here that matter...
ITâS SO BAD!!! THEY ARE ACTING LIKE HIS STUDENTS AND FRIENDS WANTED THIS!?!! And are refusing to look at the story from a narrative standpoint outside of shipper/fanon shit⌠They do this literally every time something huge and awful happens. They always end up making it about a damn ship, completely glossing over the characters themselves and their intentions. Itâs so frustrating. The Gojo and Getou they talk about is barely even them⌠those are OCâs!!!
And the only reason why theyâre talking so negatively about Shoko is because they hate women đŁď¸đŁď¸đŁď¸!!! Itâs crazy, sheâs literally a doctor who specializes in the dead. Sheâs a mortician!!! Like, youâve stated, sheâs been burying her colleagues and friends since she was a teenager. Iâm sure sheâs used to the business now. Even if itâs hard, if youâre in this line of work, people who work with the dead tend to not find it as torturous and haunting as any normal person would because death is an extension of life. They donât view death as this big, scary, horrible thing they way people who donât work with the dead/arenât used to dealing with death, are. Thatâs why in rl, morticians and doctors might come off as extremely fickle and end uncomfortably nonchalant regarding death. They donât view dying and the dead in the same way we would. They find comfort in knowing that they can help the grieving pass on the best way that they can by taking care of their bodies in their most vulnerable moments on earth. It wouldâve been nice to see more of Shokoâs reactions and knowing about more of her feelings regarding Gojoâs passing because like Iâve stated before, Gege really fumbled her character and because of the way he wrote her, it makes it easier for fans who already donât care about her, to mischaracterize and misunderstand her intentions, labeling them as âcallous,â and âinconsiderate,â despite her having always been this way since the very beginning. She didnât even so much as flinch when Getou had confirmed to her that heâd committed a massacre, killing over 100 people in the process. They were talking so casually as if they were talking about the weather. She had to fix up Haibara, probably one of their very first friends who sheâd most likely ever had to work on⌠itâs just, I hate how the people bashing her really DONâT understand her character at all and have never once tried to and theyâre constantly proving my point. They expected her to be sobbing in every panel, grabbing onto Gojoâs tightâŚ, Sexy ass, black t-shirt, holding on for dear life and screaming at him to wake up and they absolutely HATE that a female character wouldnât give that to them đśđžââď¸. Iâm so sorry Shoko⌠theyâre acting like Getou wouldâve been the only one to feel bad about all of this simply because they ship them and forgot all about canon.
As for Yuuta⌠oh brother. The fact that all of Gojoâs students do care about him and have always admired him⌠Yuuta didnât want this at all⌠but he knew that he HAD to do it in the end and so did the others. Knowing the kind of trauma that heâd suffered himself. The pain and isolation that he had to deal with because he was too afraid of hurting people so he pushed them away and purposely isolated himself. Heâs canonically tried to take his own life on multiple occasions. After meeting Gojo, he learned that he had just as much as a right to live as anyone else and that he mattered. He chose life. Gojo, alongside the friends heâd made, made a huge impression on him and it makes me happy whenever I think about it. He used his strength to protect others and learned to see his strength as a good thing instead of a curse that separated him from society. Gojo already knows what itâs like to be lonely and lived with that till the very end. But he made sure to let his students know that they all were worth living. This is literally why he wanted to become a teacher in the first place!!! Have the fans forgotten just how much he adores his students!?!! Yuuta knew exactly how Gojo mustâve felt⌠even taking over his body, he didnât need to view his memories to find out.
Even if it is, from a narrative standpoint, incredibly disgusting, Gojo gave them permission because he values the lives of the people he cares about, especially the kids (ppl always forget that he loves children đ⌠heâs do anything for them), above his own. When it comes to the kids, he knows that heâs the adult in the situation. Just like Nanami, itâs the adults duty to protect the children and he feels the same way. His corpse gave them a way to fight back and he gladly gave it to them as sad as this might sound⌠Heâs always been this way and we all know why. Come on. Heâd always seen it as his duty to protect and shield them from the horrors of the real world that would soon hurt them back. I hate that heâs still being used as a weapon in his death so much, it really makes me want to cry, I could barely sleep đ⌠but manâŚ, whenever stuff like this happens, it just goes to show that not everyone was reading the story with their eyes open. Blame it on shipper brainrot.
#uhhhhh sorry for ranting sksksksk#tkf replies#frostbitten-Icarus#the fans made me not care for the ship at all I can barely even look at itsnsnsj#itâs⌠I like the ship if its gego only because most of the fans for it seem to be normal and donât mischaracterize them like crazy⌠they#actually talk about the story and characters individually while stsg girls canât go a second without making everything important thatâs#ever happened to them about the ship itself and reduce them to generic tropes that just go around fucking and crying over each other when#we know they arenât like that at all like a lot of the artists are good but I can hardly handle seeing them as bastardized ocs đ⌠Iâm#glad I care about them individually I adore them both!!! i just wished fans actually read the text that gege wrote himself instead of ao3#ff all day#sorry for my typos yhhh
10 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A Jar Full of Us | one-shot
Pairing:Â Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags:Â best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.
Summary:Â You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, theyâre in his hands. And Jungkookâyour best friendâknows everything. But he doesnât say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like heâs waiting for something. And this Valentineâs Day, you might just have to find out what.
Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before
Word count:Â 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.
MOODBOARD
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 đ 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 Jungkookâs presence.
It had been another perfect nightâone filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each otherâs 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 donât 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.
Tonightâs memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, âLooks kinda pretty, right?â He knew how much you loved the moonâhow 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 confessionsâwhispers of feelings youâve 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 itâs 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 niceâpreserving 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 hadnât meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadnât 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 hadnât 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 smugâtoo 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 wasnât about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thoughtâwhat a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. SoâŚI 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 cheekilyâbefore promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.
But you couldnât chase after her. You couldnât move, couldnât breathe, couldnât 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 secretsâyour secretsâwas gone.
And now it was in Jungkook's hands.
Of all peopleâŚJungkook.
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 simpleâget 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 hadnât seen it yet.
He couldnât have seen it yet.
As you ran, your mind spiraled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenarioâeach 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 Jiminâs birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.
And thenâŚthere 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 closeâ"I do."
But you swallowed them down.
Because what if he didnât feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?
And now, thanks to Joy, you didnât have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkookâs apartment.
The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.
Would he laugh?
Would he think it was weird?
Would heâ
Would he reject you?
No. No. No.
You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. Youâre going to get there before he does. Youâre going to take the box back, and heâs never going to know about it.
That was the plan.
It had to work.
As soon as you reached Jungkookâs 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.
Thenâfinallyâyou 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 faceâconfused yet soft, dangerously softâmade 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, noâ
"Youâ" 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 hadnât 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 donât 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, Iâ" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.
And then, to your absolute horrorâ
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 didnât terrify him nearly as much as it did you.
And thenâoh godâhe spoke again.
"So⌠do you still think my hair looks best when itâs 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 talkâa conversation where heâd tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didnât 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 roomâall 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 inâfar too close for comfortâduring your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.
"So, Iâm 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 himâreally talk to himâhe 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 didnât 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 didnât know how to handle itâso 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 maybeâjust maybeâyou had hoped that if he knew how you feltâŚ
He wouldnât push you away like this.
The next week brought the on-campus career fairâan event mandatory for all students. You werenât particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.
Or so you thought.
Because thatâs when you saw him.
And he wasnât 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 worseâhe laughed.
A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadnât heard in what felt like forever.
Your stomach twisted.
You werenât expecting him to make it this obvious.
If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didnât 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 motionsâwaking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lecturesâbut your mind isnât 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 worseâmaybe he just didnât care at all.
The thought makes your chest ache.
Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. Youâve 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, youâve 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 wayâlike 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.
âI didnât expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys wouldââ she wiggled her eyebrowsââget freaky after the whole confession, you know?â
She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.
But then she saw your face.
Her laughter faded. âWait⌠what happened?â
You didnât answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlierâJungkookâs teasing, his smirk, his distance.
You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. âI⌠Iâm sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?â
You let out a hollow laugh. âOh, no, he loved it.â You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. âThank you so much for your help, Joy.â
Her expression faltered. âWait⌠what do you mean?â
You shook your head, exhaling sharply. âJungkook probably thinks Iâm pathetic now.â
Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. âIâ I really thoughtââ she hesitated, chewing on her lip. âI was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.â
You let out a bitter chuckle. âWell, now you know he didnât.â
Silence settled between you both.
And for the first time, Joy didnât have anything to say.
The next time you see Jungkook, heâs with Hana again.
Theyâre standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You donât mean to eavesdropâyouâre not even sure why you stopâbut the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.
Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. âAre you sure she won't find out?â
Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. âI donât know⌠Maybe it's better this wayâ
Your breath catches in your throat.
Your first instinct is denialâmaybe theyâre not talking about you. Maybe itâs about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.
As far as youâre aware, there isnât another she in Jungkookâs life. Not before. Not when you were still close.
Youâve already been replaced.
Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find outâbecause he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesnât want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.
It isnât.
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 thenâno matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feelâyou canât bear being apart from Jungkook.
Even if he doesnât love you back.
Even if he only sees you as a friend.
Losing him completely? Thatâs not something youâre 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 sameâsame hoodie, same soft brown eyesâbut 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 donât like me. And thatâs fine. I hope she makes you happy."
Jungkook halts mid-step.
His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.
"You donât 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 doesnât 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 herâfinally forgiven her. Maybe it wasnât 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 arriveâloud 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 didnât 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 goâjust 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 itâsomeone 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 lighterâyour 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.
âI liked you, you know,â you mumble, swaying slightly. âBut now I realize⌠I was just wasting my time.â
Jungkook doesnât react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.
He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. âYouâll be fine,â 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 itâs 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 didnât care.
You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. Thereâs 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 headâor 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, andâwithout hesitationâslips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.
Your heart clenches.
Is it for Hana?
You donât 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 somethingâsome kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?
Surely.
So you wait.
By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messagesâfriends, 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 donât go to class. Whatâs the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.
Thatâs 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 wrappingâonly for your stomach to drop.
Itâs 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 eveningâplenty 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, letâs go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."
But you shake your head. "Iâm not in the mood."
She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesnât 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 thereâs something else there tooâguilt.
Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.
If she hadnât sent that gift early, if she hadnât tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldnât have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldnât be spending your birthday like thisâwaiting for a boy who might never come around.
Jungkook didnât 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 stillânothing.
The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.
Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.
Itâs the day before Valentineâs Day.
You canât afford to miss any more classes. You havenât 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 youâll 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. Thereâs some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentineâs 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 laughingâcompletely 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 balanceâbracing for impactâ
But you donât 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 doesnât let go of you immediately.
His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like heâs grounding himself, like heâs hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightlyâlike heâs 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 lightsâit all blurs.
All thatâs left is him.
Still holding you.
Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.
âDo you even care, Jungkook?â
His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see somethingâsomething 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 donât."
His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.
Then he turns. Walks away.
And youâre 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, itâs time for you to make yours.
You have to move on.
That night, you decideâJungkook was never meant to be yours.
Itâs a painful truth, one youâve 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. Thatâs 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. Whatâs 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 donât 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.
Youâve been holding the pain in for too long.
So tonight, you let the dams break.
And you cry yourself to sleep.
Itâs Valentineâs Day.
You feel miserable.
Forget having a Valentine this yearâyou donât 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 yearâs Valentineâs Day.
You and Jungkook had gone out for dinnerânot as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didnât 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.
Noâwait. You shouldnât 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 homeâsheâll get it.
But it rings again.
What is Joy doing?
Then it hits youâshe probably stayed over at her boyfriendâs 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 isâ
But thereâs 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 canât 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. Itâs heavier than you expected.
Thatâs 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 unrealâlike youâve stepped into a dream.
Itâs 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."
Thatâs 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.
Itâs his.
The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.
Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into youâ
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 insteadâ
"No, Y/N. I donât."
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 nowâ
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, itâd be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I donât want you to."
A sharp pang strikes your chest.
Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop partyâdrunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.
âI liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.â
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 didnât 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 didnât know wasâ
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 knewâif he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldnât 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 youâd 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 backâ
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 itâuntil 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 wasnât.
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 canât even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandingsâevery ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didnât careâcrashes down on you all at once.
Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.
"You thought I didnât 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 itâs the most precious thing youâve ever heldâbecause it is. Because itâs 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 significanceâthere are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.
With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.
âI was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope itâs not too late for you to read them.â
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.
âY/N, will you be my Valentine?â
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 misunderstandingsâheâs finally saying it.
And suddenly, all that matters is what youâll do next.
The moment the words register, you donât 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 couldnât have gone farâhe 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 donât 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 heâs already bracing for disappointment. Like heâs already convinced you wonât come after him.
But you do.
âJungkook!â
He freezes.
You donât stop running until youâre right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like itâs the only thing anchoring you to the moment.
His eyes widen when he sees youâmessy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like itâs the most important thing in the world.
You swallow hard, voice shaking. âDid you mean it?â
Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.
Then, barely above a whisperââYeah.â
Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.
"You absoluteâjerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything heâs put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you wereâ" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "âwriting these?"
Jungkook doesnât answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like heâs bracing himself for whatever youâre about to say next.
"You couldâve just told me, Jungkook. You couldâve justâ" You pause, gripping the jar like itâs the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"
He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like heâs been holding it in for too long.
"Because I was a coward."
You blink. You werenât 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 didnât care, maybe youâd move on. Maybe youâd find someone who wouldnât 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 wasnât even there?"
His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesnât answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.
"Because I was afraid youâd 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, cryâanything. 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 wouldâve told you every single day how much you meant to me."
He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like itâs the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you canât quite name.
"Say it now," you whisper.
Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like itâs 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, roughâlike it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.
"Y/NâŚ"
You donât look away. Donât 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 thereâs no humor in itâjust raw, aching regret.
"I loved you then. I love you now. And I donât think thereâs a single version of me that wonât love you."
Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.
"Then whyâ" your voice cracks, "âwhy did you let me think you didnât?"
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, Iâd ruin you. Scared that youâd wake up one day and realize I wasnât worth it."
Your hands clench at your sides. "You donât 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, Iâd do it all differently. But I canât. All I can do is stand here and tell youâ"
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 youâve been waiting forever. Because you have.
Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like heâs afraid youâll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.
The kiss isnât softâitâs frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. Itâs a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like heâs 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 isnât enough, like heâd fuse you together if he could.
You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstandingâcrumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didnât 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 heâs afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.
Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like itâs the only thing keeping you grounded.
His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. âI donât deserve you.â
You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. âThen spend every day proving that you do.â
Jungkook lets out a soft laughâone that sounds broken and real, like he canât believe heâs still allowed to have this moment with you.
âDeal,â 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. Thereâs no hesitation now, no careful restraintâonly heat, only the raw, aching need thatâs 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 addictiveâlike 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 donât 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.
"Jungkookâ" 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 thereâs 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.
"Youâre 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 timeâexploring, 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.
"Youâre 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 heâs memorizing every inch of you, like heâs 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. "Iâve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "Iâm right here."
And then thereâs no more talkingâonly 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 doesnât exist. Itâs 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 donât move. You canât.
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 heâs still trying to convince himself youâre 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, thereâs a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.
Itâs you who finally breaks it.
âSoâŚâ You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. âHana knew about the jar?â
His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but thereâs amusement in it too.
âShe didnât just know about it.â His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. âIt was her idea.â
You blink. ââŚWhat?â
Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. âYeah. She was the one who told me to do itâto fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldnât.â He pauses, then adds, âShe also threatened to expose me if I didnât.â
You scoff, though you canât help the warmth blooming in your chest. âSo let me get this straight⌠You couldnât tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?â
Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. âI didnât tell her. She just⌠figured it out.â
Of course, she did.
You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. âStill. She knew before I did.â
Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until thereâs no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, âAre you jealous?â
You glare at him. âShut up.â
His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss youâslow and lingering, like heâs trying to pour everything he canât 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, âAre you gonna answer me?â
Your brow furrows slightly. âAnswer what?â
Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouchedâexcept for the last one.
âThe question,â 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 everythingâafter confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other againâthereâs 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, âYou never needed to ask.â
Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like heâs memorizing the moment.
âGood,â he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. âBecause I wasnât planning on taking no for an answer.â
Your breath catches. Not because of his confidenceâbut because, deep down, you realize youâd 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 doubtâfor something to make this feel less like a dream. But thereâs 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 heâs afraid youâll 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 heâs 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, âThen donât.â
Jungkookâs lips part slightly, his expression shiftingâsoftening, meltingâas if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, heâs 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 donât 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 thingsâsome peopleâwere never really lost at all.
And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.
EPILOGUE : Years Later â Valentineâs 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 Jungkookâs presence.
It had been another perfect nightâone filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each otherâs food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, âAnythingâs fine.â
Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You donât 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, thereâs something else.
Your fingers find the jarâthe 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.
Jungkookâs voice is quieter now, fond. âDidnât think Iâd see those again.â
You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. âI donât know what made me reach for them.â
He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. âHabit, maybe. Or fate.â Then, smirking, âYou always did have a thing for digging up answers.â
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. âYou never actually answered me, you know.â
You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. âJungkook, weâre literally married.â
âAnd?â He leans in, teasing. âIâm just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldnât hurt.â
You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lipsâ
"Yes, Jungkook. Iâll 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 didnât realize thenâyou never needed the answers inside.
Because youâd already found them.
Because youâd 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
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook jeon#bts smut#bts army#bts ff#bts#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts incorrect quotes#bts jungkook#fan fiction#jungkook fanfic#bts ffs#bts ff recs#jungkook ff#valentines day#jungkook fluff#to all the boys i've loved before#tatbilb#idiots to lovers#best frinends to lovers
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text

okay the whole vase is great but something about Helen sitting on Aphrodite's lap as she wraps one arm around her shoulder and brushes her leg with her hand, staring into her eyes like that... as she is persuading Helen to go with Paris (while Peitho aka persuasion stands behind them) is so incredibly iconic.
and gay. toxic yuri, if you will.
#helen of sparta#aphrodite#greek mythology#greek vase#not pictured is nemesis pointing at them in outrage#(which is the only time so far i've found helen + nemesis together on a vase... I think about that all the time ToT its all so SAD)#anyway. I consider aphrodite labelling helen as 'the most beautiful woman in the world' to be her opinion. of course she's-#- the goddess of beauty/love so that's sounds obvious but. also consider... it's *her* opinion. aka her choice who she finds hot.#aka sapphic gay lesbian yuri whatever you want to call it helen x aphrodite is real and alive and there's nothing you can do to stop it#none of this 'they were really good friends' helen's sitting in a goddess' lap ffs. have you even read the iliad book 3?? read it again.#it's actually called the yuriliad. bet you didn't know that huh /j#i'll stop rambling (for now)#edit: im looking at these tags a day later and wow i really went for it huh. anyway i'm keeping them it's all true đ§Ąđ¤đŠˇ
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
one of my favourite little things about the murderbot diaries is how present all secunit's friends are even if they're not actually physically present. it doesn't do the annoying thing where it jumps through hoops to bring back characters that aren't really relevant to the narrative but it also doesn't do the other annoying thing where it pretends they never existed either. like secunit talks about art and mensah all the time even when art or mensah aren't in the book. it's clear how bharadwaj has impacted its personal growth even when she's literally on another planet. it complains about gurathin and pin-lee when they're not there. it's still sad about miki and don abene and it mentions tapan and maro and rami even though it only knew them for a few days (because when you're new at being a person every interaction with other people is important even if it's short). iris reminds it of mensah. iris also reminds it of ratthi. its hair is fluffy bc it let amena play hairdresser off-screen and it messages her so she knows it's okay. it doesn't have to worry about protecting volescu anymore because volescu retired thank goodness. it's still using thiago's language module. etc etc etc
it's such good writing because it's such a little thing that gives the characterization and relationships greater depth and also reinforces the running theme of friendship in the series and then also subtly gives this sense of 'the people you love are a part of you/your story' and also reinforces secunit's role as a storyteller because it's constantly telling little stories about all its friends.
#theyre good books brent#murderbot#dont mind me apparently when i have an evening nap and no work the next day#i stay up late possessed by a spirit of literary analysis.#oh hell im probably going to have another super nerdy literary dream tonight ffs.#the fact that this has happened multiple times is both sad and embarassing. i know we should all just be ourselves and embrace the cringe#but dreaming about literary analysis is really going too far i think.#if youve read all these tags you should also read the murderbot diaries. thank you and good night.
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Being friends with Xie Lian would be so weird because this man peppers in bits of his insane life ruining trauma randomly mid sentence. You'd like accidentally step on his toes and he'd go "ah don't worry about it, that foot's been cut off and eaten before anyways" smile, and then never elaborate.
#i'd ask what's wrong with him but we all know that's a bible length list at this point#like bitch wdym escaping an avalanche is nothing cause you've dug yourself out of a grave before?#god i wish he had just. one good year. 1.#have money for real food. decent living conditions. see his friends and ghost kids every day. maybe go to ghost city on the weekends#give him a chance to be a real person ffs#heaven official's blessing#tian guan ci fu#tgcf#xie lian
738 notes
¡
View notes
Text


Youâre just supposed to touch his cheek, brush away the hair with the pad of your finger and then get back to work, thatâs all it is, so youâre completely unprepared for the feeling that rockets through your chest when your skin finally touches his. Yunho gasps softly as your fingers brush over his cheek, his eyes blowing wide and his expression blanking, and itâs the only indication you have that he feels something too. A tightness wrenches in your chest, like someone pressed something hot and hard directly into your breastbone and your stomach does a somersault. Your ears are ringing, and youâre pretty sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest now that itâs started up again. The tattoo on your chest feels warm beneath your blouse. [...] Heâs yours. You want to reach out and yank up his shirt, check the tattoo over his heart to see if itâs the same looping knot shape as yours, but you donât need to see it to know for sure. Itâs him.
across stardust ââ´ď¸Ë・â idol!yunho x makeup artist!reader find the rest here
#jeong yunho#yunho#yunho x reader#yunho fic#yunho ff#yunho smut#yunho fluff#yunho romance#ateez ff#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#i truly cannot believe he posted these pics i've been insane all day about this#like is he reading does he agree are we meant to be (i'm kidding)
466 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Okay, i love smut sometimes but can we not go back to fluff and especially ANGST!?!? And i dont mean start off with angst and end with angsty smut or start with fluff and end with fluffy smut, i mean genuine fluff and angst, pure pain or happiness. Its literally the only thing that comes up for most searches, especially on tumblr and its so annoying cause i just want to read something but its all just dick and pussy like PLEASE
Not to mention the amount of DISTURBING "dark content" smuts there are. It's creepy and weird
#aot fics really annoy me with this#because its all modern day college aus with weed and drugs and i just want canon content ffs#mha#bnha#jjk#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen#my hero academia#attack on titan#aot#gojo x reader#geto x reader#bakugou x reader#demon slayer#writing#fanfic#mha smut#aot smut#jjk smut#dabi#boku no hero academia#shoto todoroki#todoroki#geto suguru#gojo satoru#levi ackerman#eren yeager
562 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Quest Continues...
(part 1- part 2)
#Fourfold Soul#<- That's the title of the project I've been working on!#I am very excited to finally show off the cowboy (gender redacted) I've been cooking in a slow boil!!! Yeehaw!#Yes this is the game project. YES I am commited to the bit of having the main character go through a long running pronoun-quest.#This character does not have a name so I cannot formally tag them...#(Okay. Technically they have an internal name for coding/scripting reasons...and I have a nickname for them.#But the important part of making a video game character you get to eventually name is that the name must come from *you*!)#The girl here is a npc so she has a temporary name. So I also cannot tag her. Hmm...#I have several FFS comics thumbnailed out. This one got made first because it's the funniest without context. Lore wise it's weak.#I would love to post the sexy clown but you have to wait just a few more comics.#Fun artist woes moment to share: This is the first time I've had to colour these characters traditionally. *That* was NOT fun.#Going from a specific digital colour palette to being at the whims of my limited colour choices in markers? Hell! On! Earth!#I might also be extra frustrated because this sure is 3x the length of what I usually do for comics! I spent a Whole Day on this.#Past me thought it was soooo funny and needed all the extra panels for pacing. I hate past me. That guy needs to be exploded.
568 notes
¡
View notes
Text
One time during my Slut Era the most beautiful lesbian came into my store to convince me to join a gym. I had no interest in joining a gym but I literally lost cognitive function near her and told her maybe because I kept losing my train of thought looking at her.
I told my buddy about it to make fun of myself and first he asked how I knew she was a lesbian to which I just gave him a flat look. Later sheâd go on to reference her wife and I gave him a smug smile. But the second thing he asked was why I wasnât gonna join a gym. I scoffed and said I didnât see the point.
He insisted it was good to move your body and cajoled me into joining with him. I wasnât diagnosed yet with any of my various ailments so three times a week weâd work out for an hour or two. I felt a screaming sourceless sense of badness from my body like I was dying as my body tried in vain to communicate I didnât have the reserves for this. That part sucked.
But the upside was I was fit for the second time in my life the first I thought I had leg cancer. I had little biceps and the best part about having him as a gym buddy was he used to be a gym teacher.
Heâd decide what we were working on and direct us to different machines. It was like a homebrew personal trainer and I didnât feel awkward or like everyone was staring at me when we went together.
Then he got a girlfriend and I literally never saw him again.
#ramblies#funny#story#ffs foibles#gym#work out#I tried to get other gym buddies to no avail#and my beloved likes to work out in the morning while I prefer might#I need to start scheduling in exercise though since Iâm going back to the mattress store and Iâll be sitting all day
600 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Kinktober prompt 22: costume
Steve and Eddie going as Morticia and Gomez for Halloween! The lack of hair similarities they make up with a lot of attitude (inprnt)
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#ff kinktober 2024#my art#for once is steve who's reciting romantic poetic out loud#eddie tried to pull a strong front but eventually gave up and is melting. they're insufferable#eddies make up was so fun to do! reminded me how I didnt make a rocky horror art to this day#so maybe he went all in like. mashing up both stories#a dr frank-n-further morticia if you will lmao#check og post for inprnt link!
345 notes
¡
View notes
Text
fuck it i would give you a 10 page essay on how Waving Through A Window is jason coded but YOU'RE NOT READY FOR THAT CONVERSATION!
#im screaming into the void here honestly#jason grace#i have no clue who the other jason (think his name was todd) is or how he acts#but like jason grace specifically post hoo#his mental health is kind of...#after the incident... :(((#âlook at these other demigods recovering after the war. they're something other than a weapon. maybe ill be like that one day.â#except all he is and all he ever will be is a weapon#a pawn to the gods#their hero twice lost but only once found#it is all he knows how to be#its fun how he probably had training to fix his fatal flaw with sudden spontaneous battles he didn't have time to prepare for#give the 16 year old his veterans discount already.#hes participated in what#2? 3 wars?#give the kid a BREAK ffs#pjo#hoo#heroes of olympus#take that guy OUT of situations!
88 notes
¡
View notes
Text
A Jar Full of Us | one-shot (TEASER)
Pairing:Â Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Released on: February 14th, 2025 (Valentine's Day Special)
Genre/Tags:Â best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, arguments, misunderstandings, potential smut
Summary:Â You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, theyâre in his hands. And Jungkookâyour best friendâknows everything. But he doesnât say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like heâs waiting for something. And this Valentineâs Day, you might just have to find out what.
Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before
Word count:Â 10.2k
Teaser word count: 204
Warnings: none.
A/N: I love this trope sm and I wanted to write something for Valentine's Day. This fic is my baby and it will be out on Feb 14th! there will be a taglist for this fic. if ur interested to be a part of it then drop a message below this post or send me an ask!
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.
Thenâfinallyâyou 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 faceâconfused yet soft, dangerously softâmade 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.
There will be a taglist for this fic and if you are interested to be a part of it please drop me a message below this post or send me an ask!
(taglist closed)
Full one-shot out now: READ HERE
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook jeon#bts smut#bts army#bts ff#bts#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts incorrect quotes#bts jungkook#fan fiction#jungkook fanfic#bts ffs#bts ff recs#jungkook ff#valentines day#jungkook fluff#to all the boys i've loved before#tatbilb#idiots to lovers#best frinends to lovers
592 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Sometimes, I don't even know who I am. I forget things everyone else remembers just fine, and know things I've got no right knowing.
Final Fantasy VII: Rebirth
#ffedit#ffgraphics#gamingedit#final fantasy vii: rebirth#ffvii rebirth#final fantasy vii#final fantasy#video games#*all#*gif#*ff#*gaming#here i am...three days late lmao
393 notes
¡
View notes
Text

man reverberating was such a funny mod.
during this inning the first ken drew a walk, stole second, then got caught stealing third before the second ken walked, the third ken arrived and drew another walk, the second stole third base, and finally the fourth ken arrived and this screenshot was taken.
#blasebuzzing#blaseball#crabs#this was season 13 day 111 during the crabs return 4th strike championship btw.#a wild ride for many reasons. no i don't feel normal about the teams in play being the ffs crabs fridays and tacos#hello cridays and frabs facing off against each other for a championship each on the wrong team#having been apart from their former teams for the entirety of ascension#hello near-miss of a chiclawgo championship. again after all that time apart.#hello post-allergic reaction baldwin overperforming against her og team the tacos#even as great player val underperformed against their og team the crabs.#anyways. i miss blaseball. i didn't have time to fall in love with the new crabs.#not enough chances for the sim to tell funny little stories
101 notes
¡
View notes
Text








too many frankie x rambley drawings, right ?
#finding frankie#indigo park fanart#ff#ip#frankie#rambley#frankie ff#rambley indigo park#rambley the raccoon#crossover#all these drawings were made days or weeks ago (the last one was made today)#silly#finding frankie fanart#indigo park#indigo park fandom#finding frankie fandom#crossover fanart#crossover ship#ship#fanart#fanart for u
57 notes
¡
View notes
Text
As per usual, I'm ill so therefore feel like Ianto Jones in Day Four of Children of Earth

Me, with a sore throat: It's too late *COUGH* I've breathed the air...
#torchwood#children of earth#children of earth day four#ianto jones#jack harkness#captain jack harkness#janto#i'm ill#AGAIN.#this is like the fourth time this year and its only the start of march ffs#ughhhhhh#just been sat here reading a merlin fic all day#AND TO MAKE MATTERS WORSE#WHEN I WAS PUTTING THE WASHING OUT I FELL OUT OF MY BACKGARDEN DOOR#(THERE'S A DROP)#AND LANDED ON MY LEFT LEG#AND NOW THERE'S A LUMP JUST UNDER MY LEFT KNEE AND MY LEG IS KILLING ME I CAN BARELY WALK#UGHHHHHHH#and i'm running off of like three and a half hours of sleep so uh...#AND MY GLASSES PRESCRIPTION WENT UP#gods i am not having a very good day
37 notes
¡
View notes