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last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now
pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader
summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes backâ to seoul and in your life.
general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!
warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!
word count: 5.3k
author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.
also a few more things: ⥠to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ⥠this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
fic masterlist
Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.
Looking at him, you ask, âWhat was that for?â
âDo I need a reason?â Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.
âIâm really happy you got to come today,â you muse, enjoying Woosungâs calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You havenât seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung wasâ a quiet soul who liked working in solitude.Â
You and Woosung are so much alike.
âWhy? Did you think Iâd forget?â Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips.Â
âNo, I just thought⊠maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. Thatâs important.â
Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagreeâ âNothing will ever be as important to me as you.â
A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didnât expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal.Â
â... I do have news for you, babe.â Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, âWhat is it?â
Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up.Â
âI got the job, sweetheart.â
Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprisedâ your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. âR-really?â Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. âWoosung, oh my godâ this isâ â you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your heartsâ âthis is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,â you hug him again.Â
You feel Woosungâs body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behindâ they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted.Â
Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.
âThank you for all your support, ____⊠you know I wouldnât have been able to get through all this if it werenât for you.â Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to himâ so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. âThis is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.â
You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long.Â
Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to musicâ itâs his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been thereâ should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosungâs future would look like.Â
All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.
For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.
When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosungâs eyes. âWhen do you start?â
Woosung takes a deep breath, âAs soon as the higher-ups get settled in. Iâve been told theyâve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldnât be too long now. Iâll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. Theyâve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him⊠that was new⊠he said they liked my work so muchâŠâ
âWow, that⊠that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?â
âIâm nervous, for the most part,â Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. Itâs been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and⊠this companyâ Iâve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So Iâm hoping theyâre not just doing all of it for the business.âÂ
You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. âYouâre going to do great, you know that, right?â
Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes.Â
That night, Woosung couldnât sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesnât notice you wake up.
âBaby, hey⊠youâre still awake.â
Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersaultâ it always does.
âHmm⊠I couldnât sleep,â Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace.Â
âTell me whatâs on your mind,â you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scentâ him.Â
âJust⊠things. Iâm not sure how to articulate them yetâŠâ
You hum, âThen Iâll just stay like this with you to keep you warm⊠warmth helps you sleep, right?â
Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. âHm⊠especially your warmth.â Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that youâre about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. âI love you.â
When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.
âI love you, too.â
âHyung, I think thatâs the saltââ Jimin starts.
Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, âWhat do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.â He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.
âLast time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. Thisââ he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, ââ is obviously not blue.â
âYah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days agoââ Seokjin tries to argue.
They didnât notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, âWhy donât you just taste it?â
âOh hey, Woosung-hyung,ïżœïżœ Jimin greets.
âHey, Jimin. Good to see you,â Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.
Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.
âTold ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.â
âI canât believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it outââ
With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesnât listen to Seokjinâs monologue anymore, âYouâre here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?â
âActually, I am here to buy a mango parfait⊠____âs fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.â
âI got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?â Jimin asks.
âAre there other flavors?â
âBlueberry and strawberry,â Seokjin adds.
âIâll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.â Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. âItâs on the house.â
âYou always give us free stuff, Seokjinââ Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.
âTaking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.â
Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, âHow is she doing lately?â
âSheâs doing better,â Woosung reassures. âShe has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. Weâre going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.â
âThatâs good to hear, right hyung?â Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. âI put some new desserts weâre experimenting with. Please give them a try.â
Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. âOh wow, thank you Jimin⊠I wonât take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.â
Seokjin chuckles, âYou really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____âs apartment.â
âAh, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,â Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. Youâve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love lifeâ and you understand where he is coming from.
âWell whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,â Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. âGo. Letâs have a drink sometime, yeah?â
âSure thing,â Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.
Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongiâs door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words âfuck offâ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat wonât stop him from ringing Yoongiâs doorbell, though.
âWho is it?â he hears Yoongi call out.
âItâs your favorite person in the whole wide world,â Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the doorâs automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanieâ his signature style.Â
âDumbass,â Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. âGood morning to you too,â Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him.Â
âHow are you already set up? Itâs barely a day since we arrived!â
Yoongi chooses not to respond.Â
âYouâre kidding me, right?â Jeongguk asks in disbelief. âPlease tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?â
âI did⊠for a brief moment, maybe?â Yoongi starts.
Jeongguk shakes his head, âYou have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. Itâll be the death of you.â
Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, âThat doesnât seem so badâ spreading myself too thin, that is.â
Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.
âHave I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?â Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.
Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoonâs head peeks out from behind the door.
âI came to say my welcome remarks,â Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeonggukâs mouth falls open because he couldnât believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. Whatâs even more astounding was that he knew Yoongiâs passcodeâ while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.
âOh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I donât?â Jeongguk asks.
âHe isnât my boyfriend,â Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldnât help but glance at Namjoonâs way, who seemed unfazed.
âRight, and Iâm Neil Armstrong,â Jeongguk plops down on the couch.
âYouâre the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode⊠right, Yoongi?â says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one.Â
Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, âDonât encourage him, Namjoon.â
Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each otherâs eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing.Â
âHow was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.â
âEasy peasy lemon squeezy,â Jeongguk responds. âNot sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.â
âShut up,â Yoongi retaliates.
âI canât imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. Itâs a miracle this production company is still standing upright,â Namjoon says chuckling.Â
Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-â with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time.Â
Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeonggukâs confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeonggukâs brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeonggukâs delight and envy.
However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.
But he also knows itâs none of his business.
âHey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?â Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.
Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. âYes, it is.â
âOuch. Will you be alright?â Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.
âI donât really have a choice.â
âYou always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,â Yoongi inserts. âYou just need to work on making the right ones.â
Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesnât really have an answer to that.
Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friendâs words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.
âSee you on the other side, then,â Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.
Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.
He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts wonât matter, either.
As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadnât lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.
It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for godâs sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a strangerâ which he felt was appropriate.
He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.
âYou finally decide to show yourself.â
Jeongguk doesnât move. Doesnât respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeonggukâs father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his sonâs shoulder.
âItâs so good to see you, son.â
Jeongguk, once more, doesnât have it in him to respond.
At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.
âDid you settle in fine, Jeongguk?â his father asks.
âYes, father, I did.â
âYou should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,â his mother chides.
âHoneyâŠâ Jeonggukâs father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.
Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasnât really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.
âI donât know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.â Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.
âHow is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?â his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.
âI guess. Yoongi and I havenât managed to burn anything so thatâs nice,â Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just canât help but be sarcastic.
Once more, the silence won. However, Jeonggukâs mother is the type to not back down.
âYou should think about getting married soon, Jeonggukââ she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct.Â
ââand this time, we want you to marry someone your level,â she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didnât notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.
Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesnât know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.
But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.
Itâs her fault.
âYou need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember youâre not just anyone, Jeongguk. Youâre a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,â his mother condescends.Â
Tears start to sting Jeonggukâs eyes, but he doesnât want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.
âI have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, donât you think so? I chose the most refined and educatedââ Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.
He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.
You.
And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, youâ whether you were in the room or not.
Jeonggukâs mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeonggukâs neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear.Â
Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like heâs about to lose control.
But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angryâ he does none of them.Â
He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.
âThatâs enough, mom.â Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. âPlease.â
Jeongguk rarely addresses her as âmomâ. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, itâs the term he ends up using.
âAs I expected⊠you are still weak, Jeongguk.â his mother states with absolutely no remorse.
Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.
He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.
It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isnât done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.
Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground.Â
He barely remembers what happened next.
When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him.Â
He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.
He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.
Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.
Jeongguk couldnât believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.
It was you.
âOh⊠hi,â you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.
You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding.Â
âAre you okay? Hang on, Iâll call the nurseââ
You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesnât know what heâs doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.
âW-what happened?â
âYouâre at the hospital⊠um, Iâ I got a call from them saying you were here,â you say.
Jeonggukâs eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.
You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.
âAre you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a secondââ
âNo⊠please. Iâm okay. I donât feel any pain.â Except for my broken heart.
âOh⊠okay.â
Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didnât know what to do, he thinks.Â
âH-how did the hospital call you? You didnât change your number?â Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesnât have any idea as to why youâre here.
âThe hospital told me I was your emergency contact⊠they uhâ they only found your wallet on you and found this,â you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.
âThe e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back hereâŠâ
When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself.Â
Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak.Â
âI um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,â you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smileâ the first one youâve given him since he woke up. âWe talk sometimes.â
There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.
You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.
âI got these across the street⊠your socks got wet from the rain.â
âOh.â Jeongguk feels really dumb.
âMay I?â you tentatively ask. âYour feet will get cold if we donâtâand you have the IV on so you wonât be able to use your handsââ
âItâs okayâŠâ Jeonggukâs response startles you. âThank you.â
You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When youâre done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.
âDoes that feel better?â you ask.
Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.
He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your featuresâold and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair.Â
To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.
And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.
âHow are yââ Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.
âJeongguk, are you okay? What happened?â
Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room.Â
âIâm fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out andââ
âYou had another panic attack, Jeongguk. Thatâs the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?â
Yoongiâs string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasnât the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.
âYoongi, can weââ Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster.Â
Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. âIâm sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.â
âNo, not at all, Iâm⊠Iâm glad I could be of help,â you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him.Â
A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.
âHello? Oh, okay. Iâll be right out,â you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, âUm⊠I should get going.â
âIs someone picking you up?â Yoongi asks.
âYes, Taehyungâs just a few minutes away,â you answer.
Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.
You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. âTake care of yourself, Jeongguk.â You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeonggukâs eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.
Jeongguk doesnât want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.
âYou too, ____.â
As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.
As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.
âWhy the hell did you just come out of a hospital?â
âTaeââ
âAre you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Youâre the only one there? What happened?â You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.
âYahâyou laugh?â
âIâm fine, Taehyung,â you tell him but he doesnât look convinced. âI really am.â
âThen why were you in there?â
âI saw Jeongguk again, Tae,â you calmly respond.
Taehyung freezes. âYouâre joking, right?â
âIâm not,â you answer.
âAnd youâre⊠are you okay?â
âI am.â
Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didnât want to talk just yet.
âDo you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?â
For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. âMaybe some other time, Taehyung.â
Taehyung understands immediately and nods. âShould I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?â
You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also donât want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. âTake me home, please.â
âOkay, ____,â Taehyung answers.
The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.
The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.
However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it.Â
You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you.Â
âHey you,â you say with a smile.
âHi,â Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. âDid you have a good day, today?â
You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.
You know you canât hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.
And you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you.Â
He may not know whatâs going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when youâre ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.
Woosung whispers against your ear, âYouâre safe with me, sweetheart.â
taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook x you#jungkook angst#jungkook scenarios#bts au#bts au fanfic#woosung x reader#jungkook divorce au#divorce au
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âĄïžBack To MeâĄïž
Special thanks to: The Rose
TW: angst : post breakup : mentions of getting drunk : semi toxic relationship : hella short :
note: I tried my hand at angst for the first time please give me feed back on it
Taglist:N/A
8-13-23
You and Sam haven't seen each other in a few months since the breakup you had was calm clean and heartfelt, nothing too bad you just felt as tho he didn't put as much effort as you did into the relationship
His drinking bothered you the way he put everything over you bothered you how he brushed you off when you tried to talk about your feelings bothered you it seemed as tho everything he did bothered you
You feared you had fell out of love with him or worse never even loved him in the first place. After the breakup Sammy felt the worse he's ever felt he started drinking more and ignoring the rest of The Rose making out with random girls but won't hook up with them as he feels he's letting you down even more than he already has. One night at around 2am Sam texted you what your assuming was a drunk text. You opened it to see a small paragraph and fully typed no typos or anything that resembled drunk texting
Although you were hesitant you read what the paragraph said "I can make you mad. I can make you scream. I can make you cry. I can make you leave. I can make you hate me for everything. But I can't make you come back to me"
#x reader#the rose x reader#the rose one shots#the rose woosung#the rose sammy#sammy#woosung#woosung x reader#angst#first attempt#the rose
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đčđ Time (Hajoon Series Part 8)
Part 1: Angel Part 2: Nauseous Part 3: Eclipse Part 4: Take Me Down Part 5: Sorry Part 6: Alive Part 7: Sour
Summary: Is it the last time I hold your hand?
CW: low self-esteem
If itâs the last time
Iâll hold your hand in mine
âHajoon?â, Woosung asked, his voice full of confusion and disbelief, âthe fuck is this?â
Hajoon froze in the doorway, his jacket still half on. The other members were gathered in the kitchen. Dojoon and Jaehyeong were sitting at their kitchen table, their expressions unreadable. Woosung was standing behind them, holding an official looking letter with a familiar logo. Likely his results â if he was accepted for college again. They were supposed to arrive today after all.
Why had the others opened his mail? Hajoon was enraged. They had no right! With more force than necessary he ripped his jacket off and stalked towards Woosung to grab the paper. He wanted to do it right, not have them find out accidentally. He didnât want them to think he was a bad drummer and a coward.
âWhy are you going through my mail?â, he asked, resentful. Separated from Hajoon by the table Woosung was easily able to hold it out of his reach. Wasnât he allowed grace?
âIâm sorry, itâs my faultâ, Jaehyeong said quietly, not meeting Hajoonâs eyes. âI was confused why you got mail from an university. So, since Leo and I thought that didnât match up and they probably put on a wrong address on the letter we wanted to see if we could find out the real owner.â
âIt never crossed your mind that I might get mail?â, Hajoon asked in disbelief.
âNo, we didnât think you would get mail from an university. You didnât say you considered studying againâ, Dojoon explained.
âWhat confuses me even moreâ, Woosung added, still looking perplexed, âwhy does it say you were accepted for a full-time study? You donât have time for that with our work. Weâll be outside of Seoul too often. Besides how do you think you will have time to study and do band-practice, song-writing and other stuff at the same time? Why didnât you talk to us about options? Youâre our drummer, we need you.â
The âuntil we find a replacementâ was implied. So the cat was out of the bag. Maybe they would appreciate honesty, would be glad that he took the first step to leave. It would have to happen sooner or later anyway.
âI really hope you find a different drummer soon. I quit. The documents from the lawyer should arrive within the week anywayâ, Hajoon spat. For a moment he felt satisfied at seeing the shock on all their faces.
Remembering our highs
Itâs hard to say goodbye
But the hidden happiness behind fake-sad faces he had expected didnât happen. Jaehyeongâs face turned into a heart-broken expression, a soft breath escaping him. Dojoon was frowning, like he didnât understand anything he had been told. But it was Woosung who looked the worst. The leader had turned deathly pale and was clutching the table hard as if he was scared of fainting, the paper scrunched up in his fingers.
âWhat?â, Woosung asked softly, eyes impossibly wide.
âI quit. Iâm doneâ, Hajoon repeated, trying and failing not to cry. Tears distorted his sight. He didnât understand. He hadnât wanted to keep hurting the members with his presence in the band. Why were they so sad? Was it just bad timing? What was he missing?
âYouâre joking, right? This is just a joke. Tell us that you are jokingâ, Dojoon said weakly, desperately, âthis isnât funny, Joon-ah.â
âItâs not a joke, Dojoon-ssiâ, Hajoon choked out, âI canât do this anymore. I canât keep pretending I donât know. Iâm done.â
âBut ⊠but why? Pretend what? Hajoon-ah, why?â, Jaehyeong asked between sobs, âwe canât be The Rose without you.â He looked like he wanted to say more but he was overwhelmed by his choked crying. Dojoon placed a hand on his back, looking like he was just acting out of instinct not because he was very present.
When was the last time
We laughed until we cried
âWe should probably sit down and talkâ, Hajoon said, already dreading the conversation. Something wasnât adding up. Why werenât they rejoicing? Hadnât he done what they wanted? But he had heard them â they wanted him to leave.
âYeah, letâs do thatâ, Woosung agreed, still pale. He rubbed Jaehyeongâs shoulder for a moment then walked around the table to sit down in his chair next to Hajoon. The drummer hesitantly slumped down, glad he wasnât sitting across the crying maknae. He didnât think he could stand seeing him sad any second longer.
âWhat is this all about, Joon-ah?â, Dojoon asked, reaching over as if he wanted to take Hajoonâs hand in his. Hajoon flinched away.
âI ⊠I know Iâm the superfluous member of The Rose, the least liked memberâ, Hajoon started haltingly. He didnât want to sob his way through the explanation. âI know you donât want me around and Iâm easily replaceable. Black Roses wouldnât mind if I left and Iâm sure with a new drummer who doesnât keep fucking up you can reach new highs. I know youâve been looking for a new drummer. Iâm sorry for the inconvenience of leaving now but I donât think I can stay here any longer. I love you and I know leaving is the best thing I can do for you.â
This is the last time
Closing scene to your story
As he finished, he looked up again. Jaehyeong had his hands in front of his mouth, sobbing. Dojoon was leaning forward, resting his head in his hands and his elbows on the table. They both looked the picture of defeat.
Hajoon dared to look to his lea⊠- former leader - and it hurt. Woosung looked like he had seen a ghost, tears trailing down his face and hands trembling. As if sensing his gaze Woosung looked up into Hajoonâs eyes. Hajoon didnât think he had ever seen anybody look so sad.
âBabyâ, Woosung whispered finally, âwhere did you get all of this from? We never ⊠we ⊠we knew something was going on. But this? Hajoon-ah, we love you so much and I donât think any of us would want to be The Rose without you. We need you, not just as a drummer, because we need you. Our loveable true maknae who keeps telling bad jokes and is obsessed with One Piece. The amazing man who grew with us by our side, who we all go to talk our problems through and who is the reason we are even popular. Without you, without your skills, we âŠâ Woosung broke off, crying.
âWoosung-ssi?â, Hajoon asked, unsure and feeling completely out of balance. This was not what he had expected. Was Woosung really saying the truth?
âItâs hyung, Hajoon-ahâ, Woosung whispered, âfuck, I never even noticed how you just kept addressing us in formal speech for weeks. I thought you were teasing but ... Is this why? You thought you needed to speak formally to us because âŠâ Woosung was unable to finish the sentence, say the words. You thought we hated you.
Hajoon nodded. But he was still so unsure of himself.
âBut I heard you talking about how I made so many mistakes that night after the concert some time ago, that it couldnât go on with me? That I was weird. And I understand, I am a liability if I keep making mistakes. I can understand if you want to kick me out and replace me with somebody betterâŠâ
Iâll miss you endlessly
Hope we meet again someday smiling like before
Hajoon was interrupted by Dojoon, who stood up and walked around the table to kneel down beside the younger.
âJoon-ah, you overheard but you misunderstood. Iâm sorry. We were so worried for you that night. You made so many mistakes and you were so out of it after the concert. We tried to figure out what was going on with you because we love you. We wanted you to be okay and we never talked about replacing you, we were looking for a way to help you. I promise. We will not replace you, that is just stupid. There is no The Rose without you, angel.â
But Dojoon had been searching for a new drummer, hadnât he been?
âBut ⊠but you were looking for a new drummer, werenât you?â, Hajoon asked desperately, âLeo, I saw your laptop screen. You were on the drummer forum and chatting with drummers, I saw.â
Perhaps they were all still denying what they had done? Were they ashamed in the face of his tears? Didnât they find anybody to take his spot and had to content with him for the time being?
âWhat?â, Dojoon gasped, gripping Hajoonâs hands tightly, âI ⊠Hajoon-ah. Itâs your birthday in some time. I was chatting with specialists on what to get you. We all wanted to buy you something really special because we love you and you had been so down all the time. You kept pushing us away and we wanted to show you that we care about you. If we couldnât help you any other way we thought a nice gesture could show how much we love you. Please believe me!â
It ⊠it made sense. Hajoon felt sick. It made so much sense.
Hajoon slowly nodded.
As he looked around, blinking tears away, he saw that Woosung was watching them. There was so much love in his eyes. Jaehyeong had walked around the table and had folded himself into a kneeling position on the ground, face hidden in Woosungâs lap. The leader was gently stroking his hair.
âSo ⊠you really donât hate me or want me out of the group?â
It was hard for Hajoon to wrap his mind around the facts after weeks of believing the complete opposite.
âBut you ⊠you three fit together so perfectly. I donât know who I am in this band anymore. I always felt so distanced from you â whenever we are on stage for sound checks or something itâs just you three and I barely know what to do with myself. You all seem like one being and I barely get to stand beside you. Whenever I tried I was pushed to the back. And ⊠and in the studio? Why did you want me at band practice when I wasnât able to play if not to show me a soundtrack is as useful as me and show me anybody else could do my job? Why would you want to me to stay with you when there are so many other people to choose from, people who are better than me?â
Canât change us
Wanna spend more time beside you
Jaehyeong looked up at Hajoon finally, face blotchy and wet.
âHajoon-ah, weâre sorry you felt like we didnât want you or felt pushed away on stage. Itâs stressful up there but that is no excuse. Just, you have always been so shy. I remember you saying all those years ago that you were glad to be hid behind your drums. We know you arenât easily comfortable with new people and are rather shy â our only motivation is to make you feel safe and protected. Iâm sorry if that made you feel like you were pushed aside. We will do better from now on and not just assume. You will always be our first choice, I promise.â
Oh. So they were doing it to protect him? A misguided attempt in this case but very sweet. How could he have doubted them?
âAnd that day at the studioâ, Woosung added, âWe didnât handle it well and I am sorry I got angry but I was so worried that you would hurt your hands more and so scared why you would hurt yourself just to play. We actually thought you could try singing more if you wanted to, I had intended to ask you earlier but I forgot. Iâm sorry.â
âNo, Iâm sorryâ, Hajoon whispered. How had he fucked this up so badly? It was obvious his members cared about him â probably had cared about him. He had basically thrown their kindness in their faces over and over again. âIâm sorry I doubted you.â
âBaby, you were having a really bad time, a really really bad mental health phase. We will never fault you for that. I think I will never forgive myself that I didnât push when I saw you were hurting. We thought giving you the space you requested might help but that was the wrong move. We never wanted to hurt you. We all love you so much.â Woosung opened his arms. âLet us show you. Can we cuddle?â
Hajoon nodded. He didnât know how it had happened but soon he was crying into Woosungâs chest on the kitchen floor, Dojoon hugging him from behind and Jaehyeong in Hajoonâs arms. It was by no means comfortable. Elbows were in ribs, knees close to sensitive places. But it was home. The most loved Hajoon had ever felt.
Oh, know the healing wonât be overnight
Countless nights crying over mights
âI really donât have to leave?â, Hajoon asked hesitantly, hours later when the cuddle pile had moved to the couch as Woosung complained of a backache and Jaehyeongâs feet kept falling asleep. They all felt too raw to let each other go any time soon.
âYou will never have to leaveâ, Jaehyeong confirmed.
Dojoon added: âYouâre our Blue Rose, our miracle. Our angel. You will never ever get rid of us.â
âBut the contract elimination?â, Hajoon asked hesitantly. The fallout of the months spend in hurt was scaring him.
âIâll take care of it, babyâ, Woosung said firmly, âhyung will take care of everything. Your only job is to heal and to let us spoil you until you canât stand us anymore.â
There was a lot they would have to talk about in the future but for tonight it was enough.
Smiling like before
Time will heal us
Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - The Rose Â
#Hajoon series#Kpop#The rose#Hajoon#Hajoon centric#hurt/comfort#Songfic#Angst#Woosung#Dojoon#Jaehyeong#Feeling insecure#Insecure hajoon#Lee hajoon#songfic#Time - the rose#đč#đ#đ§đ»ââïž#Part 8/8
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THE ROSE MASTERLIST
KEY WORDS:
đ„ -> ONESHOT Â Â Â Â
Âź -> REQUESTED Â Â Â Â
đž -> FLUFF Â Â
Â đ€§ -> ANGST       Â
đ„ -> SUGGESTIVE/SMUT Â
đ -> CREEPY Â Â Â Â
†-> VALENTINE SPECIAL
â -> CHRISTMAS SPECIAL
đ -> HALLOWEEN SPECIAL
đ -> BIRTHDAY SPECIAL
đ” -> DRABBLES
đș -> SERIES
â° -> TIMESTAMPS
đ -> NSFW ALPHABET
đ± -> SOCIAL MEDIA AU
You can call me lazy đ”ïžđž
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'Cause we'll make it better ê±±ì íì§ ë§ đ„đž
VALENTINE'S DAY X THE ROSE â€đ”ïžđžđžđžđžđž
#kpop#kpop fanfics#kpop oneshots#kpop scenarios#kpop fluff#kpop angst#kpop smut#the rose#the rose x reader#the rose fluff#the rose angst#the rose smut#kim woosung x reader#kim woosung fluff#kim woosung angst#kim woosung smut#park dojoon#park dojoon x reader#park dojoon fluff#park dojoon angst#park dojoon smut#lee hajoon#lee hajoon x reader#lee hajoon fluff#lee hajoon angst#lee hajoon smut#lee jaehyeong#lee jaehyeong x reader#lee jaehyeong angst#lee jaehyeong smut
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you're okay | myg (m)
Summary:Â Let it hurt and burn. Let it out; and then let it fade away. Let it heal. Yoongi can't lift all your burdens, but he has taught you at least this much over the years.
âł pairing: Yoongi x reader âł rating: 18+ âł genre: s2l/est. rel.; angst, fluff, smut âł warnings: this one's heavy :') pov switches, switching between past and present, reference to the d-day documentary, mental health issues, therapy, depression and anxiety, mentioned unaliving attempt, mentions of fainting, slight mention of SA, implied panic attack, lots of trauma, lots of sadness, healing journey/healing with yoongi, feelings of loneliness, feeling unworthy, oc is very unsure and thinks she's a burden, tears and crying; explicit sexual content: (brief) protected sex, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, kissing/making out. please heed the warnings <3 âł word count: 11.5k âł a/n: hi hi. not the average taegularities fic, i think. once again, please do note the warnings before reading. it's okay if it's too heavy and you need breaks â take care of yourself. it's a very very personal piece that i just needed to get out of my system. yoongi's snooze inspired it; i still cry when i listen to it â i'm thankful it saved me in so many ways, and i hope you feel the same way about this fic. i love you all; here's to healing and living đ âł listen to: snooze by agust d ft. ryuichi sakamoto & woosung đ€
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST | WIPs
The weather changes at warp speed these days.
When you left just this morning, it was raining buckets. The shower barely allowed a glimpse at the sky, grey as smoke; ominous clouds were bursting, fast cars and busy passengers on the sidewalk rushing through the world.
You were one of them, not necessarily impressed by the downpour. But you smiled when someone halted, stretching an arm to force the doors of the bus open until you were inside.
The tender gesture lit up your gloomy morning, a proof of how the world isnât all misery and ruin. For a couple minutes and hours, that strangerâs smile lifted the weight off your leather jacket clad shoulders. You were burdened by nothing but the bag hanging on your side.
But now, the same jacket is draped over your arm and feels much heavier than before; stripped off when the sun broke through the clouds around the afternoon. The additional weight gives you grief; youâre relieved when you hang it onto a rack, step out of your shoes and drag yourself to the bathroom.
God, all actions seem so passive these days.
Passive and automatic, just half-conscious. Youâre fatigued and lost in your head. Frankly, you need your bed. You hate that you still need to shower. You wish you could skip that part and still keep your body healthy and clean.
And as you stand under the water, shifting your balance to the right leg and back, you realise that another work day is over and another one is coming. Interactions, productivity, the craving your bed. You need the weightlessness.
So much so that you soon feel the knot in your chest, intensifying, and the heat of the water combines with an uncomfortable breathlessness until your knees bend a little. Immediately, you plant your palms against the bathroom tiles, taking a seat on the shower floor.
You cross your legs; the thought of your father is immediate because he always taught you to take a seat wherever once you start feeling dizzy. Since that one adolescence day when you passed out and hurt your chin, you have followed this advice and prevented worse.
Your head spins for a moment, your chest tight; and you hear a dull thump. Thereâs an odd rustle in your ears, mixed with the sound of the dripping water; so you donât notice the call of your name right away.
Keeping your answer absent for another moment, you only wrap your arms around your chest, just to keep yourself whole. You feel like your body might fracture into a dozen pieces.
The shampoo bottle that presumably caused the thump before rolls against you, and you gasp in uncomfortable surprise; immediately hear another slurred, âHey! Are you okay? Whatâs going on?â
It's him; heâs always worried. Maybe thatâs what youâve been struggling with so much lately. The fact that you never suffer alone whenever the weight on your shoulder and brain drags you down too far.
A worried voice chimes again, breaking the sound of the shower jet, and you suddenly become hyper aware of his concern, rushing to finally get out. You exclaim a reassuring, âAll good!â before the silence can prolong or betray you.
His calls stop, probably relieved when you add another, âComing.â
You envelop your body in your towel; just a moment later, he knocks. You wouldâve opened even if he hadn't.
Yoongi stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and breathes in the sauna-esque air. His mouth turns into a surprised circle, and he blinks before he blows out a breath and states, âYou showered hot today, huh?â
âMhh,â you hum, âthe sun never keeps me from doing so. Feels good.â
He smiles, watches your lotioned hands hydrate your skin, very slowly and very delicately. When you sigh in something he interprets as fatigue, he asks, âDo you need help?â
Four simple words, but they soothe something in your wrinkly, grey brain. The knot of stress loosens just a little, and you sigh deeply, telling him, âYes, please.â
He doesnât hesitate to step behind you, picking up the pink, wooden brush lying on the laundry basket next to you to release the knots in your wet hair. For a couple of minutes, you indulge in the massage; and then wallow in the feeling of his hands on your face, taking over to do your skincare.
And then, gentle as he is, he helps you into your clothes. You feel somewhat pathetic, but most of all, thankful â anything to get through the night.
âYou all set?â he asks once heâs done, palms on your shoulders. You touch the digits of his left hand, leading them to your lips to kiss them softly before you nod.
You follow him into the living room, detecting the still present sunrays protruding through the spots that the sheer curtains donât filter. Itâs not dark yet, but the light is slowly fading. The star is preparing to drown behind the horizon, dusk in motion.
The pretty hues give you a brief yet strange burst of motivation; often, you fear the night more despite its serene reputation. Too dark, too haunting.
Yoongi has already set the table; he starts to ladle the sundubu-jjigae into your bowl, rice in another smaller dish next to it. You sit; you feel endlessly indebted and silently terrified at once. The food looks amazing, so the taste isnât the problem.
Your boyfriend is a good cook, and you thank the deities every day for his existence. It was much harder to get by and assemble a meal when you lived alone.
But your expression is still the opposite of what itâs supposed to be, and when he sees it, he asks, âYou good? Have you eaten yet?â
âNo.â
âThen eat a little, okay? As much as you can.â
You gulp, oblige. You know your body calls for it, so you listen to it, chewing a couple bites, even though it feels impossible to actually swallow. God; you need to stop your chest and stomach from trying to convince you that everything is heavy.
Your clothes, your heart, your thoughts.
You know it isnât true. It drives you mad when your own brain proves this treacherous, attempting to lie to you like this.
Then again, energy dwindles faster these days. Your body knows; maybe thatâs why you feel tired. You need to sleep â maybe that could help you feel a bit more feathery.
But shit, you wish there was a more efficient charger for human beings than sleep, so you could be productive. Your mind wonât let you sleep properly anyway.
âIs it good?â Yoongi asks, interrupting your thoughts. Heâs always the first to notice when youâre overexerting yourself, even just at dinner.
âItâs very good,â you respond truthfully, even raising your voice to make yourself sound livelier, âas Iâd expect from you.â
âThen Iâm glad. Thought Iâd make you something good, since you worked longer.â
âAlways attentive, arenât you?â
âI try to be.â His spoon drops in his bowl, and he reaches out, touching your cheek just long enough for your heart to stir. âHow was work?â
HmâŠ
You donât remember too well. You know you went there at least, and you know you did whatever you had to â but you canât recall details. So all you say without dousing the atmosphere in negativity is, âAs always.â
âWas Nayeon at work today?â
âNope,â you tell him, sending wordless, good vibes towards your best work buddy. âStill sick. A stomach bug, I think. I really hope she feels better soon.â
âSana again then?â
âYeah, spent most of the day with her. Sheâs always so sweet, though⊠I should talk to her more often.â
You dig into your rice again, trying it with a bigger bite this time. Then, you shake your head in apology, looking back at Yoongi as you ask, âAh, Iâm sorry, baby⊠how was work for you?â
âAs always,â he echoes, âthought of you a lot.â
âMhm⊠obsessed much?â you jest, trying a little beam.
âYou know me.â
Thatâs it. You nod; you understand the weakness of your smile, so you lower your head altogether. He sees; of course he does. Yet, he waits and watches you toy with your food. You know the question is approaching before it lands, âAnother low?â
Another lowâŠ
You could cry. You could burst into tears immediately if you didnât feel so⊠empty. A vacant soul, pieces coloured by nothing but him. Yoongi sparks the magic most of the time, even drilling through the numbness.
âYeah,â you whisper, not crying yet, but the corners of your mouth drop. âItâs been a while.â
âMonths, yes? Which is great, my love.â His voice is so mellow, deep, like an antidote. âYouâre doing really well.â
âYeah.â
You are. Because at one point in your life, you used to feel this way all the time. Ever since you found somebody to rely on, someone who listens, youâve gotten a bit better. He puts you together as if heâs resolving a dispersed puzzle.
But certain phases at certain times still hit you unexpectedly, like a revved up truck.
âDo you want to talk about it?â Yoongi offers.
âThereâs nothing really to talk aboutâŠâ
âOkay. Do it if you need to, though, okay? Eat a little more?â
You do. Fuck, you feel so babied sometimes; you wonder if he discerns things like this, too. That he isnât really taking care of and loving his girlfriend, but rather babysitting a broken child.
You whoosh the thought away with a blink, finishing more than half of your meal before you set the cutlery aside. You down the last bite with cold water, sauntering to the bathroom, and then meet Yoongi on your bed.
He probably already put the food in the fridge and the dishes in the dishwasher; he mustâve operated rapidly to be here already, awaiting you. The laptop is open and its screen bright, and you know without stepping onto the mattress that heâs opened YouTube.
Less for him, more for you.
If he wanted to spend the remaining minutes of the night scrolling through reels, he could easily do so on his phone. But no⊠this feels more like an invitation. A quick, sweet date before sleep, just to watch a few animal videos that rarely ever fail to make you smile.
As you crawl into him, watching cats protecting newborn babies or dogs jumping their owners affectionately, you do smile. You laugh, even. You feel somewhat at ease here with him, but you know youâll go back to ground zero in the morning.
When youâve left and heâs gone to work.
And you hate it. You hate that youâre dependent on him like this⊠Yoongi calls it finding comfort in somebody you love, and you donât disagree. But adding to this, you think youâre limiting his options by shackling yourself to him.
By demanding that comfort.
You sigh in his arms, breathing calmer than before, but not enough to sleep. Yet, he asks, âHey⊠sweetheart. Are you awake?â
âI am.â
âIâm just thinking⊠Do you want me to call the therapist tomorrow?â
Shit⊠why does the ball of guilt keep growing? How does he think of this and you donât? Have you really sunk this deep again? Youâre stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
âI⊠I should do it myself,â you mumble.
âI donât mind.â
âNo, Iâll just do it in the morning. I think I should⊠do things for myself, too, right?â
He pauses. Ponders your words; or at least, thatâs what you surmise from the way he breathes and sighs and hums. And youâre proven right when he inquires, âDo you feel like I mind doing things for you?â
Yes. No.
No, you do not think so. But you sure as hell waste his time. Occupy it with this nonsense when he could be happier somewhere else, living his life, making plans for the future and rambling about the job he loves.
But noâŠ
Fucking calling the therapist for you.
You break.
It always happens in the worst moments; you donât know what it is, how it happens, but you break. Hard. Your motions stop, maybe even your breathing. But then you do sigh, so deeply that it burns, trying to keep your voice from shaking, to keep the tears at bay.
But this time, it doesnât work. Emotions heightened when Yoongi utters something heâs provided as a reminder over the years, âDonât hold back.â
So you donât.
There were days when this lesson was necessary, a gentle nudge to release the weight, and today is one of them. You weep, starting with soft whimpers that grow louder steadily, and you press into his chest until you're suddenly sobbing.
You sniffle with an aching head, holding onto him for dear life, barely noticing when your sobs, once again, morph into absolute wailing.
He embraces you, tighter with each inhale and exhale. Youâre so impossibly close to him, garbling something that he doesnât understand. His voice is pain-struck and trembling when he encourages, âCome again, baby? Talk to me.â
It takes a while; it doesnât work. And then, he chants, âGod, baby. My baby⊠itâs okay. Itâs okay.â
âNo!â you cry out, slurring your words, âNo⊠am a burden. Am fucking burdening youâŠâ
This is a clear thought, isnât it? Even in a moment like this, you think itâs true. And that maybeâŠ
Maybe you shouldâve never agreed to the lunch he offered you all those years ago. You would miss everything good in your life, lose the one thing you so cherish, but youâd at least rid him of you.
Those long six years ago, you should have just told him you were fine.
As a student, Yoongi always trod the same path from the second floor down to the entrance of the college, living into a routine â never really noticing much of significance. Heâd see other students whoâd be eating; talking; rushing to class.
And as a TA, Yoongi was used to another, different journey throughout the building, too; climbing down the same spiral staircase, hurrying through the scary, empty mezzanine, passing the same few rooms on the ground floor.
Heâd prepare to go home or to the library after attending his favourite psychology professorâs classes, assisting him to his best abilities. But this was different from all the other familiar routes heâd grown accustomed to.
These Wednesday afternoons did offer something of significance. Someone of significance.Â
Because every time he reached those rooms on the ground floor, youâd be there.
At first, he reckoned you always waited for your class to start, just at the time when his ended. But you were alone each time. The doors to the classrooms and lecture halls were all closed, and then there was you, a sole soul waiting for whatever miracle to appear.
It took a couple weeks for him to gather that you might not have been supposed to be there. He noticed it when he saw your eyes fixated on a spot, pupils never moving an inch, even when he walked past. At some point, heâd memorised just this expression on your face.
And then, bit by bit, he realised that your stance didnât seem quite normal. Your eyes were dead, hands never flinching. You emanated a sense of loneliness and stupefaction that he couldnât express in words.
Today, something in him stirred. Perhaps because heâd just covered social behaviour as a topic or perhaps because any proper human would recognise that something was wrong with you.
Your hands were holding a lidless cup that day, barely steaming anymore. You were blinking slowly, if at all. This time, he approached you with care, as if nearing a wounded deer; as if trying to keep it there and not frighten it away.
But when he leaned into you, a hand scarcely touching your shoulder, your head moved up to look at him slowly but surely. And your first reaction to him ever was a smile.
You remember that when you first looked at him, like really looked at him, his face seemed familiar to you. You were sure youâd seen him before, even if just in passing. He had this long, pretty, dark hair, covering his neck, a couple inches above his shoulders.
A kind face. A calm demeanour.
He stood there with pure relaxation between his eyebrows; one you hadnât felt in a while despite your falling face. Flawless porcelain skin, free of dark circles, free of exhaustion. When did you last look like this?
You smiled at him instinctively, a curious expression; you couldnât guess at all what he wanted or needed, but you were ready to listen. Youâd always listen to people â listen, listen, listen. Perhaps that was the exact problem.
This very attention towards him, coming this easily, made your shoulders sink in new dejection; everything did. Every thought was intrusive, unwelcome, too stretched for your liking.
Whenever you had a normal thought or a bad one thatâd at least pass immediately, you considered it a good day.
But you felt a tension around your temples by now; your head never felt at ease.
Yet, you asked, âYes?â
And he wondered in return, âAre you okay? You looked distracted and I thought I might ask.â
âOh⊠thatâs nice,â you commented, your voice a bit too quiet yet surprised; you cleared your throat, spoke up, âbut Iâm okay. I just sit here sometimes after my classes.â
âYou do?â
âMhm. To take a little break after all the information dump, yeah. Iâll go home soon, though, no worries.â
âHm⊠yeah. I just,â Yoongi started, hesitant â you now know he was trying to reveal something without appearing creepy. âI noticed you here a few times, so I wanted to ask just to be sure.â
He saw you here? You? And he came up to talk to you, just because heâd noticed you before? Baffling. You didnât think you were visible to anybody. You thought you faded in front of othersâ eyes.
âYouâre honestly so nice,â is all you said, hoping your eyes didnât reveal too much. How much his words affected you, and how they made you think you were just a little, a tiny bit perceptible.
âSure,â he responded, nodding. And when you failed to come up with more appreciative words, he prepared to move, bidding you goodbye with a single, âOkayâŠâ
Then, he was walking away; as grateful as you were, your energy-lacking body forced your eyes shut. You drew a deep breath. These few words youâd exchanged with him took everything out of you â that was the worst part of all this.
Interaction drained you. Loneliness drained you. The world and life were all draining, and you couldnât figure out anymore how to feel⊠awake. Sober without ever drinking.
When your eyes closed, you felt your surroundings starting to spin. Or maybe, it was you; as if someone had gripped your shoulders and was turning you in circles. There were so many weird particles behind your eyelids.
The rotation was insane, but nothing new. Shut down most of your other senses and peopleâs voices; like the one that returned a second later, the same as before. Shit. Had he seen you struggle? Was he seeing something nobody else ever would?
You werenât used to attention. You werenât used to someone noticing.
âHey, are you sure youâre okay?â the stranger with the familiar face asked, concern in his voice. âYou donât look like it.â
What was it? What was it about his gentle, low voice that lured you in? What was it about his attentive tone that made you want to tear up? Maybe because youâd bottled things up for so long.
But you held the liquid locked in your eyes. Proudly, barely.
âIâmâŠâ
You considered lying. You considered pulling a lame excuse out of your ass. But something in you snapped, snapped hard, and the truth spilled just before you could think twiceâ
âIf Iâm being honest⊠Iâm feeling pretty faint⊠I often do? I usually just need to sit down a bit or Iâll pass out.â
You hated using the word usually. As though your condition had become irreparable, like a chronic illness; and you were stating its treatment, only temporary.
âHmmâŠâ he hummed. âHave you eaten?â
âNot muchâŠâ
âThen that might be it,â he concluded, content with the deduction. In hindsight, you think he was hoping it was only that, nothing more. âDo you have something with you?â You shook your head. âAre you getting something?â
You shrugged.
You couldâve easily told the truth and said no; that the appetite was absent, that you were going to go home and hardly remember how you got there. That youâd throw your bag on the couch, take off all your clothes, not really bother for a shower and jump into your bed.
Then, youâd breathe. Survive.
You didnât have the energy to eat, to shower, and right now, somehow not even to lie. The remainder of it had been used in todayâs class and in this conversation.
He knew you couldnât come up with any bad justification, so he offered, âListen⊠I still have this sandwich with me that I was going to eat after class. You can have it if you want.â
What? That wasâŠ
âOh, no,â you blurted, raising a hand to reject, âyou should eat if you havenât yet.â
âLook, I totally get being selfless, but you donât look good andâŠâ He sighed, tilting his head. Eyebrows raised and expression suddenly stricter. âIf I can help anyhow, Iâd rather have that than anyone else finding you unconscious here later. Please?â
How could youâve resisted such a plea?
He was taking care of you and he didnât even know you. And your body understood; your body heard him. Because your stomach grumbled at the mention of the meal; it didnât mean anything to you, but it meant something to your hungry, craving body.
It often did that. Wishing to eat; then, not letting you swallow a bite.
You grabbed your bag and warily, carefully got to your feet. The man lifted a hand in caution, as if expecting for you to lose your balance. You did, just a little, swaying until youâd grounded yourself.
Goddamn it.
You nodded with a deep exhale and followed him as he suggested, âLetâs go to the courtyard. Get some fresh air. We can eat there and talk⊠or not talk if that's what you want.â
You kept moving your head up and down, fine with whatever. The fronts of it hurt due to the lack of nutrition; it was past four pm and youâd only eaten a damn banana.
He found you a shadowy spot away from the sun; it was late spring, the summer steadily approaching. The shade protected your tired eyes, guarded you from further headaches.
As you plumped onto the grass next to him, your fingers grazed it for a moment â and it felt good against your skin. A pleasant combination, the wind and the scent of grass; nearly freed your chest of the stuffy pain.
You watched his soft fingers fish out the sandwich, and then some salted peanuts for himself. Urged you to eat before spilling a handful of the nuts into his palm. God, you felt horribly guilty, but you knew you wouldnât be able to convince him to share the meal.
He⊠didnât even seem to mind a bit.
Wiping his hand on his pants, he finally introduced, âIâm Min Yoongi. Psychology student and TA. Judging from your spot every single Wednesday afternoon, you take psychology classes, too?â
âI do⊠yeah.â
You took a bite enough for mouses, but then proceeded with a larger, human-appropriate one. Your stomach felt odd; Min Yoongiâs small talk helped you eat, but the nervous feeling in your chest that never really went away weighed heavily on your tummy.
You added, âThinking of dropping it, thoughâŠâ
âWhy?â
âBecause I might be failing anyway. Havenât done much, and I still have a presentation on my paper left but have prepared nothing for it yet, either.â
âHave you asked the professor about a potential extension?â
Of course youâd thought about it. You always did. Which is why you despised having to answer, âNoâŠâ
No. Of course not. To most professors, mental health didnât matter as an excuse.
You understood, though. They graded every paper they received, surrendering their free time, their summer and their winter breaks. To grant you special treatment was something you regarded as unnecessary; you didnât think you were worth it.
âDo you feel like you could do better next term?â Yoongi asked.
âI donât know.â
Your sandwich was done and gone. You were still hungry; you felt the appetite all of a sudden. You knew it often came and went in waves, but somehow, the sandwich left you more pining than anything these days.
Yoongi saw as you licked your fingers clean of the mayonnaise; offered you some peanuts that you politely declined, greedy for something proper. Maybe youâd eat an actual dinner tonight.
After a while, Yoongi spoke, âOkay, I know Iâm a stranger to you and everything, but if you want, I could try to help you.â
Shit, but⊠that wouldâve meant putting in the effort. To get up, to meet him, to focus and to study. You didnât know if youâd be able to do all that. You didnât know how toâ
But his eyes were so sincere; a pure dark brown, sparkling in hope, for whatever noble reason. And you thought⊠you thoughtâŠ
If there was any chance to pass this class and get over with it, wouldnât you feel a gigantic wave of relief wash over you? After so damn long? Wouldnât it be worth it? Maybe a spark of hope ignited in your chest after all⊠maybe you could turn things around.
âYeahâŠâ you finally obliged. âYeah, thatâs really nice.â
âGreat. Are you free this Friday afternoon?â
After that, it became part of your routine to meet up with Yoongi every Thursday or Friday, depending on his own schedule. A couple weeks passed like a breeze; or at least, compared to the days you were used to.
Some time later, those meetings increased, and you found a profound liking in them. You still often struggled with leaving your apartment at all, sometimes deeming getting out of bed or brushing your teeth an impossible task.
But whenever Yoongi called, offering a nearby cafĂ© â always a nearby cafĂ© â youâd place all your energy into moving, throwing on clothes, leaving. You felt unworried with him; at least for a couple hours.
He wasnât just smart to an admirable degree; he was humorous, too. Motivating. Praised you for your ideas and your sharp mind. Youâd forgotten you still had it in you â you thought time had altered your brain chemistry, killed too many of its cells to still let your mind operate.
Today, he didnât suggest a cafĂ© but a place you hadn't been to before. Yoongi had never invited you anywhere that wasnât a public space, careful with your feelings without ever mentioning the obvious issues you had.
He only really crawled out of his shell and gave you the address to this new spot once youâd invited him over, too â he couldnât make it, helping out the professor he assisted. But you reckon it was telling enough for him to understand how comfortable youâd grown with him.
So you went where he told you to go, and once you arrived, you recognised it as an office. A small one, but elegantly decorated, furniture sparse. And it wasnât just any office. A therapistâs office.
âThis is my momâs,â Yoongi explained as you inspected the books on the shelf and the overall soothing and fitting atmosphere, âsheâs out of town, so I thought we could study here today.
âOhâŠâ
He had to have heard your hesitancy, your uncertainty. This is the place they usually suggest in guidance books and in conversation to people like you. You didnât know how to feel; the emotions washing over you were an odd sensation. Not good, not bad.
But scary, somehow.
Yoongi put a soft hand on your shoulder, making you turn, and asked, âIs that okay for you?â
âYeah⊠itâs just⊠Iâve only really thought and read about therapy, but never quite seen an actual room like this.â You shook your head, clicking your tongue. âItâs crazy. How have I never been in one despite studying psychology for so long?â
âHmm, many students havenât been.â
âYeah.â
You stripped your bag off of you, taking a seat on the cosy patientâs couch. Pulled out your laptop and placed it on the table between you and where he seated himself on the therapistâs chair.Â
Swallowing a strange lump, you cleared your throat, starting the study session with, âOkay, so⊠I was thinking about what you said about the research question last time.â
âRightâŠâ
At this point, you couldnât really fathom why, but he seemed reserved today, a little distracted. Still providing as much information and intellect as he could; but his thoughts were slower and his eyes gentler.
You think you studied barely forty-five minutes when Yoongi called for a break â unusual, because it was mostly you to announce a pause in thoughts, when your brain would demand a couple minutes of peace.
He sighed, hands touching his thighs and then got up to bring you something to drink. Came back with two cups of tea. You thought heâd be returning with a glass of water, but upon seeing the beverage, your eyes widened; you told him, âThis is super nice of you, thanks.â
âOf course.â Pause. You slurped; then he did. A second later, he inquired, âCan I ask you something?âÂ
âMhm.â
You waited. Nothing came. You took another sip of the fruity winter tea in the middle of summer, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat under your nose that the heat caused. Then you looked up, big eyes staring into his just in time to see his mouth open.
âYou always seem so surprised when Iâm nice to you.â
AhâŠ
Heâd said heâd had a question, but the indication of an inquiry, the one lifting in tone at the end never came. His statement was his question. And you thought it wasnât the first time you heard it; you just never noticed you were doing it again.
Yoongi left the conclusion there, and the question mark hung somewhere between the two of you. Unspoken, containing a silent, âWhy?â
So you answered, âI just⊠uhm. People donât just do something like this for me without me asking. Itâs new to me how attentive you are.â
Sad. Just sad. You hated having to actually echo your innermost thoughts; you knew this wasnât normal.
He knew, too, because he said, âThis⊠is not how things should be.â
âBut this is how they ended up being. I mean itâs just tea. But I donât think anybody else sees me sitting there and goes like, Okay, Iâll do this lil something for her, you know?â
âWhich is insane. You deserve it all so much. More than anyone I know.â
If youâd still been drinking, you wouldâve choked. Those words were rare, not often uttered to you; how were you supposed to respond to them? Youâd long forgotten how to react to things at all â it didnât come too naturally to you anymore.
So all you did was laugh a little, as if replying to a joke. Genuinely, you wondered, âHow can you say something like that?â
âWhy not?â
âI mean, you probably know so many people.â
Yoongi blinked at you, as if waiting for your argument to proceed; but when it didnât, he lifted a shoulder, steadfast with his opinion as he answered, âSo? What do you think? That you feeling that way about yourself makes everyone else feel that way about you, too?â
You shrugged your shoulders just an inch, imitating his motions. Your gaze fell, as though catching yourself spewing pure gibberish. He continued, âYou have a pure heart. I donât think Iâve ever seen you being mean. And youâre strong, careful, and endure a shit ton.â
You looked up at him instantly. Let the last words reverberate in your mind, pushing them to the forefront between all your other messy thoughts. âOf course you knew,â you said.
âOf course. Youâre so obviously hurt and I hate that you are.â
Well, you hated it, too. ButâŠÂ
Your desperation came out in a whisper, âI donât know what to do about itâŠâ
You put the cup back onto the saucer; your fingers were warm when you pushed them into your hair, pressing your palms against your forehead, holding onto your mane. Elbows on your thighs. The world spun again until you felt his hand on your arm once more.
âHey.â He sounded softer again. âDo you want to take a longer break? We could stop for today and talk?â
âI donât knowâŠâ
âYou donât have to. But it feels to me like youâve never done that before⊠people donât want to listen.â His words hit you like bricks. Like heavy cement bricks. The pain was excruciating. âIs that it?â
You were still staring at your lap when he posed the question; your head whirred, so you didnât know where to start. Which is why you held onto the first complaint â you knew they were valid worries, but you always called them complaints, like you were a burden â and said,
âI just⊠I listen to everyone. I let people vent, I let them feel hurt, and I try to be there and lend a shoulder and just,â the words cascaded out of you like a wild waterfall; your throat clogged up again, âto be a good person and a good friend.â
You exhaled a shaky breath, the pressure back in your chest. âBut why do I not get any of it back? Why is it that everyone goes silent when Iâm hurting? Do I deserve this somehow?â
You felt tears pricking and burning in your waterline, and you blinked them away. Took another quick sip just to help your dry throat. Then, âI hate that I sound selfish? Like I only do things for people to get love back, but⊠thatâs not it. I just want to feel worthy of something, too.â
âYou donât sound selfish. Itâs never wrong or inhumane to demand affection and care, and if it is, then⊠every personâs selfish. Whatever.â
Up until that point, you hadnât known that someone could be this tender and direct at once. Yoongi lived in a reality that wasnât sugarcoated, but he understood empathy and heartbreak, knew to dip his words in an ointment alleviating enough.
You wondered what heâd endured to become this type of person; sympathy and a mind this sage often stem from grief once encountered, and you so hoped he was an exception to this belief of yours.
You looked at him with delicate fondness, mixed with some lasting trouble. He reached out, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You didnât know what came over you when you leaned into his palm, kept his gaze, and stayed in place when he moved in.
Kissed you.
And you didnât know why, but the moment opened your heart as if itâd been locked before; he was the key, undoing the lock so easily. That was when the first tear rolled down your cheek, meeting his skin, and you started trembling as he moved his mouth against yours.
You couldnât grasp why he was doing it; even if parts of you knew. Did he not care that you were broken? That you were still breaking? That the ache always consumed you, that you felt whatever your brain inflicted on you throughout your entire body?
Maybe not. He always said you were funny, sweet, never humorous at anybodyâs expense.
It was different from the things youâd heard before.
Nobody will love you like this.
Stop acting like youâre traumatised.
I didnât love you â I kept you because you were attractive. Because you let me.
You had always asked yourself: why had your feelings always been shoved aside when you voiced your opinion? Whenever it differed from the one in your family or your friendâs circle?
Why were you told to never open up about your childhood memories? When you were caged in; when somebody three times your age indulged in impudence when they shouldnât have, long ago when you were a child; when you fell in love at a later age and were forced to let go?
Why were you told you were tainted, that you couldnât get any affection like this, to keep your pain to yourself and forget about your past? And why was this sequence of nightmares plaguing you right now, like you were dying, just when he was kissing youâŠ
Because you were scared. So scared.
If you told Yoongi any of this, would he bolt? Would you hurt yet another person? Would he see you as a shattered porcelain doll, distance himself from you? Because honestly, why would he stay at all; with someone who hasnât healed, whoâd pulled him underwater, too?
Yet, you didnât say any of this. You sighed; leaned into him. Took residency in his heart, cried into him.
He kissed you for another second, and then backed away. Wiped your tears. You broke and broke until your voice broke, too, giving way to quiet sobs.
You werenât used to attention. You werenât used to someone noticing.
And somehow, the realisation hurt anew, deep in your core and beyond.
Your tears had mostly dried when he resumed his position, sitting in front of you. His fingers were entangled and he waited.
Yoongi knew youâd cry again, though. The patientâs couch had some magic to it, his mother always said. Theyâd always cry, but theyâd heal at the same time. Recognise hidden parts of themselves.
He was uncomplaining and composed, and kept looking at you until you said, âIt just feels⊠like Iâll never be enough. I can do as much as possible, but none of it is ever seen because Iâm taken for granted.â
âWho takes you for granted?â
âEveryone. Iâve spent many nights awake for people, and they abandoned me. In a crowd, others will always be praised for one thing and Iâll be ignored for the same. Itâs made me bitter.â
He nodded in true therapist fashion, but his expression wasnât as neutral as one; he looked pain-struck for you. Said, âYouâve been hurt⊠I see thatâŠâ
âIâm⊠hurting,â you corrected, âand I donât know what to do.â
Yoongi attempted a different approach; you were in a hopeless spiral, and the strategy he needed to try wasnât just to dig out your trauma, but to make you familiar with the good parts of your life, too.
So he asked, sincerely hoping you had an answer to his question, âWho could you trust as you grew up?â
âI donât knowâŠâ Yoongiâs chest deflated, motivation dropping â that is, until you muttered, âMy brother.â
âParents?â
âPart of the problem.â
Okay; your answers came more rapidly now. He took it as a good sign; as readiness to talk.
âWhereâs your brother?â he wondered.
âIn this town,â you answered, and Yoongi sighed in relief. âBut I canât bother him with all of my shit.â
Your symptoms were as typical as they could be; you regarded your self-worth as buried deep under the ground, never wanting to disturb those who still deemed you close and loved. Youâd established this distance between you and the others; he didnât blame you.
The symptoms were typical.
âWhy do you think so?â Yoongi prodded, whispering your name when you didnât answer.
âIâve bothered them all enoughâŠâ
âHow so?â
Maybe he was doing too much. But it seemed you were on board with it; you werenât complaining, not sighing, not withdrawing. You were listening and talking. Nobody let you talk, and now that you were, you looked like you needed to let it out.
You spat, âBecause they never seemed to want to hear anything.â
GodâŠ
It hurt to see you like this. Damp eyes, a heavily rising chest, as if you were close to panicking again, but desperately holding back. He knew it; he saw it in the way you drew your breaths and in the things you said.
He knew youâd braved multiple nights and many, many sleepless hours before, spending these dark moments clutching your chest, trying to get rid of the unbearably tight feeling in your chest.
He knew that torturous pressure. Heâd been there before. The persistent feeling of fear and unease â like somebody had dropped a weight onto his ribcage and tied up his stomach. The shallow breathing and thumping heart would strip him off focus.
Thoughts circling and circling, around each other; absolute bullshit most of the time.
He couldnât imagine how overwhelmed you felt, but then again, he could. Was the world louder to you, too? The way it used to be for him. Did you hear that constant screaming in your head?
Vulnerable, senses heightened, sensitive to the slightest change.
He hated the thought of a wall between you and your peace. Hated hearing the words you narrated; of your home, of your childhood, of the people you met. The disrespect you suffered and the dirt you were treated as.
You deserved none of it.
Maybe he felt that way because nobody ever deserved it; or maybe because he knew heâd fallen in love with you. Not because he needed to save you, or because he felt like falling for someone who heâd have to fix could be a welcoming challenge.
He knew people who treated depression like this; saviour complex in full effect, they needed to be the hero or heroine to stitch a broken heart.
No â he fell for you because you were you. Despite everything and every pain you endured, you were still you; and most of the you that you were before you got hurt this badly was still there, under the surface.
He saw those joyful parts of you reemerge sometimes, breaking through the waves. Sometimes, right before your head would fall again; your body weightless; drowning â he saw those parts on those days for a split moment.
But not right now.
In fact, the true parts of you that knew to feel happiness were absent now, and he knew â in that sense, he was prepared for you to utter what you said next. Was ready to hear it, no matter how little he actually wanted to hear it.
âAnd sometimes, when it got too muchâŠâ You gulped. Yoongi knew what youâd say; he knew. Butâ âI didnât feel like being here anymore. It seems that was the only and last time I opened my familyâs eyes.â
But when you still said it, it stabbed his heart like a dagger.
âOnly, after that⊠it soon became irrelevant again,â you continued, âthey told me I should be thankful for being alive and regret the mistake I made⊠what I tried.â
And you spoke on. Spoke on and on. He leaned back, allowing himself a better position to breathe. His heart felt like a sewing pin cushion, riddled with tiny holes. His eyebrows furrowed in agony, but he saw worse pain in your eyes.
Tears slowly reappeared.
âAnd when I was judged for this, too⊠I realised I didnât regret ever trying to leave the world. I regretted that Iâd failed to do so.â
Maybe he felt that way because nobody deserved it; maybe because he knew heâd fallen in love with you.
But your words split him in a million tiny shards, like glass, until his pieces became tiny enough to resemble dust.
âAm a burden⊠Am fucking burdening youâŠâ
Yoongiâs voice defeats the others in your head just barely; as if youâre separated by a glass wall and hearing him from afar, only clearing when you hammer through it and break the surface. Heâs quiet compared to your cries, a hand firmly on your back.
His grip around you wants to glue you together so desperately; heâs not letting go, even though you get restless soon, quivering and ruining his shirt.
âHey, babyâŠâ you hear him say, but you interrupt, obstinately shaking your head.
âNo⊠Iâmâ I never shouldâve let you this close andââ
âNo.â Itâs his turn to interject. And he does it with determination; tone suddenly so low, cold, so you silence. âStop.â
You do, only now noticing that heâs imprisoning your wrists in his grasp. Not painfully, but still solidly enough for you to understand what he means. You confirm it for yourself when you look up.
You already know your eyes are bloodshot, cheeks thoroughly wet; but you still recognise the heavy breaths he draws. See something entirely different in his eyes than yours.
Pain.
You hurt him. And this time, you could once again lament your destructive behaviour, argue how you keep inflicting these shit ass feelings on him. ButâŠ
The ache in his expressions says something else entirely. Fills you with hope, fills you with guilt.
Shows you that he despises the thought of you possibly regretting this relationship. His gaze proves that he doesnât. That if he could go back in time and meet you again, talk to you again, fall in love with you again â he would.
You know it because heâs said it before. You know.
But your brain is half melting, hurting, spitting all negative assumptions at you like nobodyâs business.
âIâm⊠Iâm sorry,â you stammer, pierced by the sorrow in his eyes.
âWhat?â
âI⊠shouldnât have said that,â you start, gulping. Your crying ebbs down for a second as you register the growing agony in his heart, and you explain, âYouâre the best thing that has ever happened to me, but I canât stop thinking thatâŠâ
Break in conversation.
Then him again, ââŠThat?â
âThat youâd be better off without me. That youâre here so I stay alive and that youâd be less burdened with someone elseâŠâ
Another pause.Â
He stares at you, as if pondering his answer. Bites into his lower lip softly and releases it right away. Blinks, looks to your wrists, lets go of them and then whispers, âDo you want to know? What Iâm thinking, do you want to know that, too?â
ââŠWhat are you thinking?â
âThat itâs true that Iâm burdened.â
Fuck. Fuck, fuck.
The pain is searing, a burning arrow shooting through your heart. Itâs what you expected and what you feared and what still hurts so much upon hearing andâ
Are you crying again? Are you tearing up? You donât know.
Youâre not sure, but it does seem like youâre breaking once more when he shushes you carefully, touching your cheek. He calms you, and then speaks againâ
âOf course Iâm burdened, too. Yeah, of course. Iâd be lying if I said seeing you like this doesnât make me feel helpless⊠but do you know what it means that Iâm still here?â
Your voice trembles when you speak, âBecause youâre scared of leaving me in this condition.â
âNo. I learned early enough to prioritise myself when I need to. No, Iâm not leaving because I donât want to â simple. Because Iâll share your, mine and the worldâs damn pain along with my heart. âKay?â
Retrospectively, his words sound logical. He said itâs simple, and in some way, it is. If you didnât have the brain that you have, it would be. If you werenât so neck-deep in the quicksand pulling you into doubts, youâd be less surprised at the finality in his tone.
âBabyââ you start, but he squeezes your hand, eyes glistening.
âWe have enough enemies in this world. Donât regard me as one, too. Okay? PleaseâŠâ
âNo, youâre not,â you defend, moving your head and the palm on your cheek along with it, âyouâre anything but that.â
He nods, sniffling; you know heâs holding back the same salty, pouring liquid as you. Heâs always done that, providing a sense of strength and safety to make you feel just that.
âWeâll be okay one day, love. The world hurts us a shit ton, and life is difficult, butâŠâ His voice cracks here, and he waits to regain control, sighing. âWe only get one of it and⊠itâd be so unfair if we were destined to stay like this, right?â
You donât believe in divine beliefs that seemingly predetermine how your life plays out. Fate or destiny or whatever synonyms to notions that Jung or Freud believed in. Youâve heard of this stuff plenty in your studies, but it never affected your curiosity much.
You know Yoongi isnât necessarily a representative of it either; not one to dive too deep into things that suggest the potential absence of a free will.
But the thought provides hope when nothing else does. You know. The fact that you canât leave this world without fixing things; that youâre here to contribute to much larger and more important things.
You cannot have been born to spend your days here without the joy you deserve.
Youâve felt much of it thanks to Yoongi, but youâve had too many setbacks to call this a proper life. You donât want to end it like this. You donât want to grow old like this.
And you want to gift him the life he deserves, too.
FuckâŠ
You need to get better. You need to get better. You need to get better.
You need to help yourself. Even if it takes time; even if the non-linear process of healing irks you, stealing hope and leaving anguish in turn. And itâs as if Yoongi reads your mind when he saysâ
âItâs okay, you know? To feel that way. It takes time. It doesnât matter how much, but itâs okay to fall back and have ups and downs, as long as you donât give up. Yes?â
âI canât, I know⊠Iâ I wonât give up. I just⊠need you to be here.â Your voice is unsteady, and your heart is, too; fickle as can be. But youâd rather hang onto the aspiration right now⊠nothing else. âDonât ever leave me, okay? Iâll fix this for us, I will.â
âFor yourself first. Iâll be here, no matter what.â
ââŠI love you.â Your breathing is staggered, leftover pain still keeping the anxiety in your chest. Itâll take a while. But thereâs power in your admissions when you repeat, âI love you so much.â
You lean in carefully, and he mimes the movement, bending into your kiss. Itâs a peck, soft and gentle and encouraging, and you murmur through your sniffles, âSo, so much.â
And then you climb up, using all your strength. Half your body comes to a rest on his; the immediate proximity and warm touch evoke motivation and longing in your heart. For not only him, but every second of a possible serene future, too.
This very hope is often born and reborn at the end of your lowest lows. Itâs what pulls you up again, keeps you going each time before the next valley can swallow you. Sometimes it takes longer, sometimes not.
But you so desperately want this. Want it to work now.
You want to be okay. Want to travel and soak in the sun. Want to dance in the rain and scream from the peak of a mountain; want to snorkel in clear, blue seas.
The life you picture for yourself, the one you follow in those healing vlogs on social media â itâs what you yearn for. Itâs what you want to feel. With him on your side.
Sometime in the future, you see yourself beaming in genuine happiness, see yourself smiling. And you want to work towards it. Youâve always wanted to.
Ever since Yoongi first showed you what love, contentment and merriment felt like, youâve craved this. Ever since that night he told you he loved you, despite everything.
Despite, despite, despite.
He was there to catch your fall when you couldnât keep yourself upright anymore. When your knees weakened and the ground turned into clouds, and you plunged through them and towards the cemented earth thatâd shatter you.
He aided you in staying whole. Let you lean against his shoulder, nodding off into a slumber there, allowing you to dream because until then, you didnât dare to.
You thought dreaming was pointless; just a fabrication of the unconscious mind to distract you from the horrors of the world. To keep you occupied, to torture you even when asleep. As time passed, you started making these horrors your life, and the line between reality and fantasy thinned.
UntilâŠ
Until he turned those nightmares into daydreams. Blossoming, vibrant colours appeared where youâd perceived greys before. Somehow, you fell apart a lot less when Yoongi spent his time with you, taught you to love again.
You became less terrified by dreams then, because the content changed. And whenever you werenât dreaming, away from sleep, you experienced the utopia youâd always sought.
The day Yoongi first told you he loved you, youâd long defeated the semester youâd so worried about; started and survived the one after; and were now already tackling your very last one.
Even after all these months, you never let him forget how grateful you were for passing the last summer semester eventually, and in return, he never let you forget that heâd stay even after.
You didnât study all the time anymore either; now, your afternoons and nights were filled with gentle words, promising embraces, lips against lips. It took some time to truly open up. To stop feeling like you were making a mistake.
âDoing yourself to him,â you called it, as if you were about to hurl him into his very own mistake.
Even then, you wanted to get better for him; you knew it hadnât and wouldnât happen overnight. All of it was much easier said than done; healing sounds so doable for those who attempt to support those who need it, yet they cannot grasp the meaning of a broken heart and scared mind.
But there was something so wonderful about the simplicity between Yoongi and you. So simple that it called forth feelings so complex.Â
They were tough to navigate, but never tough to admit.
That March night, the sentiments roamed your body the clearest, even though the skies were anything but that. The thunder sounded like the universe had cracked; the white and silver of the striking lightning illuminated your room.
It was the night you felt hope in all its glory, for the very first time in years.
âYou keep hiding from me,â Yoongi said, legs crossed like yours, sitting vis-a-vis.
He was close enough for your knees to collide, and when they did for the umpteenth time, he put a careful hand on your fingers resting on your thigh. You didnât protest, so he didnât withdraw.
âIâm not hiding from you. I justâŠâ you stalled, âI just want you to be sure.â
âAbout you?â
If it had been this easy, you wouldnât have asked. Because you knew the answer to this. Yoongi didnât need to explain it to you; he was already certain about you to an indisputable degree.
You shook your head. Elaborated, âAbout everything. I donât just come with the few good times we had the last couple of weeks. I come with⊠everything Iâve ever experienced and that shaped me into this.â You gestured over yourself. âYouâd notice soon.â
âI already do.â
His answers and arguments came promptly, as if he knew the script to this talk and had already thought out every response heâd be giving. This was so effortless to him; thinking about it today, you wouldnât even have needed to say a word.
But it was important to you. You couldnât permit him to grow this attached without making sure.
âYou just take it, do you? All that I am,â you concluded delicately; wanting to inform him, but so terrified of scaring him away. âBut if you fall for me, then youâre committing. And I want you to think about it because I donâtâ I donât want to ruin your life.â
When he spoke again, he seemed to finally deviate from the script he knew; because confused, he asked, âIf?â
âWhat?â
âWhat do you mean, if I fall for you?â
Oh⊠oh.
You understood. It didnât take the tiniest of nanoseconds for you to fathom what he meant. And you couldâve sobbed right there and then, but the storm distracted you a little; the thunder was growling, threatening to explode again.
Somehow, the chaos outside kept you at bay. But only for so long.
ââŠYoongi.â
His fingers moved from yours to your entire palm, taking it in his with a whisper of your name. Then, he clarified, âThe possibility of something happening is redundant if itâs already happened, you know? And IâmâŠâ
You held your breath, but at the same time, you were nearly panting. Maybe one first, then the other? You canât remember anymore. You felt dizzy. Teary-eyed and joyful at once when you saw him at a loss of words.
âYouâre?â you encouraged.
âIâm just so⊠feet deep underwater and in love with you that you couldnât stop me if you wanted to.â
âIââ
âI love you. You know I do.â
Fuck⊠fuck, you knew.
Of course you knew.
Your heart was vile at times, cooperating with this demon of a brain and feeding you wrong information. But this, you knew. You fought through the congested mess of thoughts and admitted this to yourself every day.
Isnât this why you were having this conversation in the first place?
But to hear him say itâŠ
I love you.
You know I do.
âEven if you try to deny it,â he continued, âyou know I love you and that Iâll keep doing it.â
This is when your waterline gave up; lined with the liquid youâd always held back. But why? There was no reason to. You felt at peace; Yoongi knew your heart. There was no use in keeping you closed off anymore.
So you cried. Let the first tear roll that he caught with his hand, holding your face so firmly that you thought it was the only thing keeping your head upright. Optimistic.
âThereâs⊠thereâs a chance that I start doubting you,â you contended for whatever stupid reason, sniffling, âthat I doubt myself and then regret pulling you down with me andâ thereâs a chance I forget that youâll keep loving me, no matter what, you knowââ
âIâll keep reminding you.â
âIâm a handful.â
âMy hands are big enough, baby.â
The endearment didnât slip past you, but instead made your beating organ swell. You donât think youâd ever heard your pulse pounding in your eardrums this loudly. And he kept inching closer; his forehead nearly touched yours until it did.
âCan you love me even if I fall, Yoongi?â
âIâll pick you up. You know that.â
ââŠWhat if you feel like youâre not good enough?â
Stop asking questions. Stop stop stop.
But he kept answering.
âRemember what you told me a couple days ago?â Yoongi asked, his voice quiet, drowning in the storm. âThat itâd been long since youâd felt happy like this.â
âI do right now⊠I justâŠâ
âYeah, and Iâ I think. If Iâm able to stay by your side and make you smile anyhow? Then I think this⊠we⊠are good enough.â
Thatâs it. Your throat was dry, your mind out of questions. You could renounce doubts if he didnât have any either. He seemed convinced enough; so you admitted your own convictions to him, too.
âIâm⊠I love you, too. I love you, I fucking do.â
Your last word was cut, merely a breath. Swallowed when you leaned in and kissed him, pulling him back with you onto the bed. Yoongi landed on top of you, draping the two of you under the thin, floral blanket.
The early spring rain tapped your window softly before the gentle noise turned into more aggressive knocking and hammering. This very storm theyâd announced was the reason Yoongi had stayed tonight.
Thatâs what heâd told you at least; in truth, it was an excuse.
Before today, you rarely spent your nights together.
Whenever you did, he allowed you your space in order to not overwhelm you. He knew you were cautious, slow, took your time to trust. Heâd sleep on the couch or crawl back to you when you approached him in the dead of the night.
Touching his elbow gently, shaking him awake, telling him so sweetly that it drove him insane, âI donât want to be alone.â
So heâd cuddle in when you sought out his arms, dozing so peacefully. It delighted him because whenever he didnât slumber next to you, heâd hear you from the other room. Woefully moaning in your sleep, as if crying, turning.
He never saw or heard any of that when you leaned into his embrace, held onto his shirt. Never did anything more than sleep; he was content with that.
But tonight was different, less chaste than that â and he was content with that, too.Â
You said youâd wanted to talk. And you had. Youâd trembled through the conversation, heart combusting in your chest like it wasnât part of you anymore, that treacherous thing with its own, stupid will.
But it thumped differently now when he kissed you like this. You felt the change so clearly when he held you, pushing you into the mattress; stripping you naked bit by bit; asking over and over again if you were okay, if he should stop.
You lived differently, too, when he pecked your bare skin, up and down, from head to toe, to and fro. His tongue explored your waist and your thighs and the wetness between your quivering legs.
And you loved differently when he immersed himself in you. Sighing and moaning against you as his tongue lapped you up. You felt the chills everywhere. Felt your shoulders rise, your hand in his long hair, the oxygen running out.
Youâd nearly forgotten how such a moment felt â then again, youâd never experienced it like this before. You could barely breathe, and for the first time, you loved it. For the first time, it wasnât your usual reason.
But the picture of the man over you pumping himself, covering his cock in the condom youâd bought weeks ago, just in case. Back when he started hanging around at your place. He was surprised about your preparation; was delighted about it, too.
And God⊠God, when he kissed you, sheathing himself in you, every inch connected with every piece of you. Souls and hearts and bodies merging. Moving in and out slowly, then a little quicker, cradling your face and kissing your neck.
Between all that, he kept asking if you were doing okay, and you said youâd never felt better. And the best part was that you fucking meant it and thatâs when you knewâ
That Yoongi warmed your coldest, most frigid spots. Helped you find a sense of heat that youâd long forgotten, that not even summer could ever bring back. The spring was right inside you, in the middle of your chest despite the rain.
But at the same time, somewhere next to it, he was there, too, becoming the storm that raged outside.
All at once, you remembered again. Even if you might forget in your worst times; even if heâd really need to remind you again.
You remembered that you could be loved, and that you were deserving of love.
You remembered that love towards somebody is often subjective and itâs not entirely up to you who feels it for you, and that only because somebody else was unable to give it to you the right way⊠it doesnât mean everyone would act the same.
Yoongi was the spring and the storm; the rainbow you saw the next morning as the sky cleared.
Your mother used to struggle with migraines. Back then, youâd see her tied to the bed for half a day, struggling to get up, sleeping for a couple hours after swallowing her sumatriptan.
The evening or the morning after, youâd ask her how she was doing, and sheâd say the headache was gone, but that some of the pressure still lingered. Sheâd feel it in the heaviness of her head, like it was falling against her clavicles.
Back then, you were too young to understand; you still donât suffer migraines, knock on wood. But you somehow get what she meant â you guess the same applies to any other part of your body.
Like the soul.
They say a body becomes lighter after death since the soul leaves; and the morning after bawling in Yoongiâs arms, you feel the opposite. Like your grief makes you weigh more than during your good days.
Like youâre heavier than a month ago, without gaining a single kilogram.
But at least that means youâre alive. A soul intact.
And, just like your motherâs medicine, the night alleviated at least some of your pain. Maybe it was the conversation with Yoongi. Maybe the reassurance that he didnât perceive you as the task you thought you might be.
Many years ago, you refused to seek help in others; be it loved ones, a partner or a therapist. Yoongi taught you to own who you were and to admit the problems you faced; that they were as valid as anything else.
Living with him and loving him this profoundly showed you that itâs okay to confide in someone. That someone will care. But it also taught you that ultimately, nobody is responsible for your well-being as much as you are.
That to heal, you need to accept yourself. That to accept yourself, you need to acknowledge the issues you face.
And for that, you need to be ready to combat your demons, understand that they can be fought.
Youâve always known that. In that sense, it isnât true that youâre fully dependent on Yoongi. You know deep down that youâll be the one pulling you out of this.
ButâŠ
Itâs never bad for someone to initiate that thought process, is it? Even when itâs you emerging from the grave you dug for yourself; itâs okay to grab the hand as the earth breaks, pulling you out of the dirt and darkness.
Yoongi is the rope helping you out; but youâre the one to walk on once the endless well ends and you spot the daylight. You can rely on him. You can rely on yourself.
Youâll be okay⊠youâll be okay.
âReady?â Yoongi asks as you slip into your shoes. You look up, and nod, your smile soft. âJust a few more days, right?â
Right.Â
Youâll live day by day. Survive the hours, strive towards a better future. Count your blessings, find things to look forward to. Itâs alright to fall sometimes, and whenever you do, youâll remember youâre not alone.
That youâll get up eventually. You hold onto this.
And onto those few last days until vacation calls. You booked it so long ago; it can be that one thing to grasp, to look forward to, right?
And⊠you laugh. Because you remember Yoongi telling you to get your nails done, that heâd even go with you. âBut do not forget, because blue suits Greece and Iâd love to see the colour on you.â
You act like you donât know what his plea means. You act like you donât know how much he loves you. How this very approaching plan of his proves that he couldnât even let go of you if you gave him another reason to.
Isnât this enough to understand that he never feels guilty of loving you?
Why are you so afraidâŠ
Because.
Yoongi never viewed your pain as something you had control over or something you caused; whoever hurt you is at fault, not you. And Yoongi knows that; knows that you matter, with your past and present and future, however cruel they might be.
But despite the fact that your past made you who you are, and that your future will determine how youâll further turn out to be, Yoongi always preaches to focus on the controllable.
We wonât ever be able to manage the future entirely; maybe you wonât even ever be faced with the fears you harbour, you know? The past is the past, the present is the present and the future is the future. They will torment us if we put too much meaning in them.
I know itâs hard. But itâll be alright. One day, it will be â youâre okay.
It has to beâŠ
Youâll be okay. Youâre okay.
The weather might change at warp speed â but soon, itâll be sunny again.
i know i said it's okay if you skip this one, but if you're reading this, you might not have, and i'm thankful for that <3 i needed these feelings out of my system, so it felt very cathartic to me. maybe it helped you a little, too? i hope so, at least â things will be okay đ€
what do you think? since you're here, i'd love to know how you feel about this piece đ
#yoongi angst#yoongi fluff#yoongi smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#yoongi fics#myg smut
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iâm drunk, i love you (jk)
đđđđđșđđ: with only a day before graduation, you make a promise that you will not only graduate from university, but also from your feelings for your best friend of seven years, jeon jungkook.
đđșđđđđđ: film student!jungkook x med tech student!fem!oc (named sola)
đđŸđđđŸđ: heavy angst, unrequited love, jungkook as an isko agenda, set in the ph đ”đ
đđșđđđđđđ: this story is fiction. it does not represent the members of bangtan or any of the idols here in real life. all resemblance to real life characters, institutions, associations, places, events, among others are either purely coincidence or depicted in a fictitious manner only. thereâs really no warnings for this story other than itâs a self-indulgent fic to get me back to writing. the smut isnât that severe. just kissing, nipple sucking, and grinding. this is based on the film, iâm drunk i love you, which i highly recommend you watch. i didnât alter much of the plot & scenes bc i think theyâre already great as it is, but i did tweak a bit here and there. i hope you enjoy! let me know what you think by reblogging/commenting. âĄ
đđđđșđ
đđđđœ đŒđđđđ: 5,784
You were never quite the believer in love at first sight, but what you felt that night was the closest thing to that feeling.Â
He was one of the freshmen performers during your orientation, singing Adam Levineâs Lost Stars. Like the entire audience, you were captivated by his heavenly vocals and charisma as he performed on stage with an acoustic guitar one of the seniors lent him. Not only that, Jeon Jungkook wasnât bad looking eitherâquite the opposite, really.Â
However, after the orientation, you didnât get to see much of the dark-haired handsome boy. You were studying at UP, the biggest state university in the country, and so your paths were bound not to cross. Until, your older cousin, who was a senior at that time, invited you to eat dinner with him and a couple of his buddies after seeing you strolling around campus alone. When you arrived at the eatery, you not only saw your cousin Yoongiâs friendsâYijeong and Woosungâyou also spotted the boy who hadnât left your mind since you saw him over four months ago at that time.Â
You sat across from him and you tried your best not to freak out as Yoongi introduced the both of you. Apparently, he had already known Jungkook because he was the younger stepbrother of his other friend, Namjoon. During the course of your dinner, you and Jungkook didnât really talk much. But you would muster up the courage to ask him some basic questions such as his program, why he went to UP, if he joined any orgs yet, etcetera. Jungkook was polite enough to answer your inquiries.Â
He was a Film major. He went to UP because everyone in his family went to UP so it was the most obvious choice for him and he was a member of the Film society. In return, Jungkook asked the same set of questions. You were a pre-med student, Medical Technology, to be exact, and you went to UP because it was your dream school. You were also a member of the College of Arts and Sciencesâ student council.Â
After your meal was finished, Yoongi entrusted your care to Jungkook as they were going to meet up with some of their friends and you were both living at campus dormitories anyway. So, you hopped into his old army green Toyota Rav4 and needless to say, the ride back to UP was awkward. So, to get rid of the awkward silence, you asked if you could play some music. He said sure and handed you the aux cord already connected to his stereo. Once you had the other end connected to your phone, you played one of your favorite songsâWaltz of Four Left Feet by Shirebound and Busking.Â
To your surprise, Jungkook also knew the song and just like that, the awkward silence was gone and you became inseparable ever since.Â
Music became the bridge that connected you and Jungkook. Whenever you would hangout, it was always your topicâyour favorite artists, songs, original scores in films, best albums, underrated artists, overrated artists, the current state of music, everything. He also became your gig buddyâseeking out mainstream and indie artists you both liked and going to their live performances downtown bars, jam packed arenas and stadiums.Â
But your favorite would always be watching him perform. After his performance at the orientation, he naturally became one of the popular students at UP. He wasnât popular like a celebrity or an influencer, but heads would turn whenever he walked around campus. Also, he still had the luxury of privacy on his side, but if you looked at the right places, you would find small accounts on social media dedicated to him. He didnât care for the attention, though, and just went about his day as normally as possible.Â
His performance did land him some gigs here and there. You found it cute whenever heâd turn to you to ask if he should accept the invitation or not, and you would always tell him to do whatever he wanted. Most of the time, he accepted, especially if it was at Route 96, a historic venue for aspiring musicians.Â
It was here that he performed the first song he wrote by himself called Still With You. It was also during this performance that you began to see him in a different lightâquite literally. He was performing with the bar lights off, only the lights on stage and the spotlight illuminated the entire establishment. When the spotlight on him turned purple, you felt a whole new admiration for your best friend. It wasnât the âOh god Iâm so proud of my best friendâ kind, rather it was the âOh fuck Iâm in love with my best friendâ realization.Â
But like every other story where someone falls in love with their best friend, you kept your feelings hidden, hoping someday it would go away. However, you soon realized, once you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook, there was no going back. It was a rabbit hole.Â
The more you spent time with him, the more you fell in love with him and all of himâfrom the way he smiles to the sound of his laugh, how he would always annoy the shit out of you when you were supposed to be studying to how he would remember small things about you like your favorite snack at the vending machine, how youâd be the first to know his test results to how youâd be his first audience for the short film they needed to produce for that semester, how he would lend you his jacket when you ate bingsu because he knew youâd get cold easily to how heâd send you random memes he found funny out of the blue.Â
It was so easy to fall in love with Jeon Jungkook. Thus, everyone else did too. For seven years, you watched on the sidelines as he dated several girls and loved them how you wished heâd love you.Â
âIn one day, you can finally lay your hands on Jungkook,â your best friend, Mingyu, teased as he took a sip from his beer.Â
You let out a sarcastic laugh, head resting on your palm, elbow propped on the wooden table in front of you, a bottle of beer in the other hand. You were bordering on getting tipsy now as you had been drinking since you arrived at La Union with Mingyu and Jungkook in the afternoon. You didnât even know why you agreed to your best friendâs idea of going to the province for a music festival when you had your graduationâthe very graduation that was seven years in the makingâon Sunday.  Â
âFuck you, Kim Mingyu,â you told the honey-skinned man across from you with a chuckle.Â
âWhat? Let this be your final test before finally graduating. Are you ready?â a lopsided grin appeared on his handsome face.Â
Under the orange light, Kim Mingyu was easily one of the most handsome men you ever laid your eyes on. He was also tall, well-mannered, smart, capable, had a stable job while being a med student, and the textbook definition of a walking green flag. In another life, you could imagine yourself falling for him instead of Jungkook. But in the current universe you were in, he was one of your trusted friends who had known about your crush on Jungkook since first year.Â
The waiter arrived to bring you your order of another bucket of Red Horse beer. Mingyu took a bottle from the silver bucket and opened it. âHappy horse for the happy whore,â he told you as he handed you the fresh bottle of beer. You gave him a middle finger. He laughed. âWhat? Am I not right?âÂ
âYouâre the whore,â you replied. âI saw you with that cute chinito by the beach earlier. What happened to Mino?âÂ
He rolled his eyes at the mention of his exâor you believed was his ex. You never really know with Mingyu and relationships. He was the complete opposite of you. While you were a hopeless romantic at heart, he didnât believe in loveâor so he says.Â
âSeven years,â Mingyu mused, glancing towards the beach. âYou didnât stop falling in love with your best friend. Now, it looks like you donât even plan to stop.âÂ
You sucked your teeth, tracing the water around the bottle due to the ice with your fingers. âDo I just throw it away?â You werenât sure if you were asking Mingyu or yourself. âWe make a good pair.â You laughed to yourself.Â
âExcept?â Mingyu pointed out the harsh reality.Â
âExcept,â you took in a shaky breath. âHe doesnât love me back. Maybe.âÂ
Mingyu sighed deeply, looking at his watch. âTime check: you still have your hopes up.âÂ
âItâs still early,â you argued. âI still have two days. Just give me time.âÂ
âGive me time?â Mingyu repeated, taking a sip from his beer. âWhat the fuck are you talking about, Sola? The universe has given you all the time. But you did nothing.âÂ
You groaned, throwing your head back as a realization hit you. âFuck, Gyu, I justâI just realized. Is it right that weâre here? Was it the right decision to come here? My momâs gonna be so mad once she finds out Iâm in La Union.â Â
âItâs all you. Youâre a raging masochist,â he said, shrugging his shoulders. âAnyway. Letâs just play a game. Letâs enumerate all the things you did with Jungkook. Those are seven years worth of memories, Sola. Game?âÂ
âGame.âÂ
âWhat year did you first meet Jungkook?âÂ
A smile immediately creeped up on your face. â2017.âÂ
Mingyu waved his hand at you. âWow! You can do math! But I just thought of somethingâinstead of just general memories. Letâs make them specific. Letâs list down all the stupid things you did for Jungkook for seven years.âÂ
âThe fuck are you talking about?â you let out a scoff, drinking your beer.Â
âWhat? Now you canât remember?â he challenged.Â
You clicked your tongue. âFine, you stupid bitch. Ask away.âÂ
Mingyu grinned. â2018.âÂ
You hummed before saying, âJungkook was heartbroken that year. I was back at home and he was at UP. But I rushed into the city to be there for him. I remember because I was supposed to attend this baptism with my parents but I snuck out and got an earful from my mother the next day. I was completely hungover too because Jungkook and I went bar hopping the entire night.âÂ
âJesus Christ, Sola.âÂ
âDonât judge me. It was my decision, okay?âÂ
Mingyu rolled his eyes. âOkay. 2019.âÂ
You stared at Mingyu, laughing as you recalled the memory. â2019. Me and Jungkook walked from UP to Aurora Boulevard just to tell me how Song Areum became his girlfriend.âÂ
He shook his head. â2020.âÂ
â2020âhe was sick. I had an exam that day, but I quickly answered it so I could buy him his favorite, Tapsilog from Tapsi ni Vivian, before it ran out âcos it runs out quickly, right?â Mingyu nodded. You licked your lower lip then let out a small laugh. âBut when I got to his dorm room, his roommate already told me Areum brought him to the university hospital. And I failed my exam âcos I didnât answer the back part.âÂ
â2021, go!âÂ
âI loved him for four years now and counting. Is that good enough?âÂ
âOkay. Iâll accept it. 2022?âÂ
â2022âIâve been in love with him for five fucking years already, fucking shit!â you exclaimed, feeling the alcohol in you boosting your confidence.Â
âOkay. Weâre in the last year, girl. What about in 2023? What was the stupid thing you did for Jungkook last year?âÂ
You gulped. âIâm two years delayed.âÂ
Mingyu exhaled deeply. A moment of silence settled between the two of you. Then, she asked, âSola, it all boils down to this: when will you end this?âÂ
You sat up straight, taking a deep breath. âYou mean when will I stop with my foolishness?â Mingyu nodded. You purse your lips. âMaybe when Iâm done with UP. When Iâm done with UP, Iâll graduate from everythingâincluding him. Especially him.âÂ
When you got back to your shared room with Jungkook and Mingyu, you were already tipsy. You almost fell face flat on the floor when you opened the door, feeling lightheaded, but luckily, your best friend was there to catch you.Â
âYouâre drunk, Sola,â Jungkook chuckled deeply. You could smell his expensive cologneâthe one you bought for him for his birthday last year and it brought a huge grin on your face, knowing he wore it. âCome on, letâs get you to bed.âÂ
âIâm fine, Guk. Iâm not that drunk. But I do need to sit down,â you said followed by a set of giggles as you let Jungkook walk you to the bed you shared with Mingyu, and then you threw yourself on it, back against the mattress, arms spread like an eagle.Â
Jungkook sat down beside you. âAre you still mad at me?âÂ
The question seemed to sober you up instantly. The truth wasâyou could never stay mad at him. For anything. Sometimes, youâd think he could do the most painful and hurtful thing to you, deliberately, and you would still forgive him even if he wouldnât apologize.Â
âI wasnât mad. I was just⊠I just wished you wouldâve told me the real reason why you wanted to come here,â you replied softly, biting your lower lip.Â
âWould you have come? If I told you I wanted to go here because my ex wanted to reconnectâwould you have come?â Jungkook matched your tone, looking over his shoulder to look at you.Â
Instinctively, your eyes also darted towards his. The lights in the room were dim, only the lamp, the light coming beneath the bathroom door, and the moonlight outside illuminated the room. Jungkook looked especially beautiful in the dim lightâlong black wavy hair all messy from his habit of running his fingers through it, hooded eyes staring at you like he was memorizing every inch of you, the gentleness of his features made him look like an angel in this light.Â
But then youâd see his dozens of piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and lower lip; his tattooed arm and hand, and the way he looked sexy as hell with his thin white long sleeved, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and his white beach shorts that hugged his strong muscular thighs, and youâd realize he was more of a Greek god than an angel.Â
âIâll go wherever you go,â you told him, swallowing the lump in your throat. âYou know that.âÂ
Jungkook lied down beside you and you felt your heartbeat racing. His tattooed arm was brushing against yours. His head was tilted, close to yours.Â
âWill you go with me to the moon?â he asked.Â
A small smile ghosted on your lips. âI will, Guk.âÂ
âHow about Saturn?âÂ
âIâll be with you there, too.âÂ
âLaw school?âÂ
You turned your head to him. He was already looking at you. âLaw school? Why?âÂ
He brushed the hair on your face aside with his fingers, making you tense. But you kept your composure. âI passed UP LAE.âÂ
âBut,â you began. âWhat about film? I thought you didnât wanna become a lawyer like your parents.âÂ
Jungkook looked at the ceiling. âItâs not that bad. Being a lawyer. Besides, I like studying.âÂ
âYouâve always wanted to become a director, though.âÂ
âIâm not good enough for it,â Jungkook scoffed. âAll my batchmates are already directing their films and showing them at festivals here and abroadâyet here I am. Still here.âÂ
You turned on your side, propping your elbow to support your head as you looked at your best friend. It was rare for Jungkook to open up. Even to you. He was always someone who kept all his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself. In the seven years youâd known him, it still felt like there was a wall around him that you never managed to climb on or punch through. For seven years, it felt like you simultaneously knew everything and nothing about your best friend.Â
âItâs not the end of the road, Jungkook. So what if theyâre showing their films at festivals? You can do it too. At your own pace, in your own time,â you said. You wanted to reach for his face, to make him look at you, but you were scared. âYouâre a great filmmaker, Guk. The best direk ever.âÂ
He looked at you once again. âYouâre drunk, Yu Sola. Go to sleep.âÂ
He sat up, carrying your legs over the bed. You let out a groan. âIâm not drunk, Jeon Jungkook. Why do you always do that?âÂ
âDo what?â he asked, chuckling.Â
âYou always cut the conversation when youâre beginning to open up. You always clamp up, Guk. I wish you didnât do that. Iâm yourâ,â you bit the inside of your lower lip. What right did I have to demand him to open up to me? âIâm your best friend.âÂ
âI donât clamp up. I just have nothing else to say,â your best friend replied with a shrug, fixing his hair as he looked in the mirror across from your bed. âGo to sleep. Youâll get a massive headache tomorrow. Iâm just going to meet with Areum and her friends.â Â
Then, you blurted it out. It just happened. You didnât even know how. You always had this grand idea in your mind to do it after the graduation ceremony, that way, you could immediately leave. That way, you didnât have to see him all the time. You would have enough time to move on and move forward in your life.Â
But nothing in life truly went according to plan.Â
âI love you, Jungkook,â you confessed. Your heart felt heavy and you sat up, head hanging low as you picked on your nails. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes. âIâve loved you for seven years now.âÂ
And you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. Then, moments later, you felt your hands being taken away from your face. You lifted your head and saw Jungkook kneeling in front of you, holding your hands. He let one go to wipe away the tears on your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear.Â
And then, ever so slowly, Jungkook leaned in and kissed you softly. A tear rolled down your cheek. His lips were soft while yours were chapped and wet from your tears, but he didnât seem to mind. You were still in shock. This was not the response you expected. Not even in your wildest dreams but it was happening.Â
Jungkook held your face, tilting his head as he continued to kiss you moreâonly this time with more need and passion. Your body reacted. You began to reciprocate his kisses, hands wrapping around his wrists. He tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash.Â
He pushed you onto the bed, one hand remaining on your face while the other held your waist. Your fingers curled the ends of his hair. You could feel his growing member on your stomach and feeling it was enough to make your cunt wet. His lips then traveled on your jaw, down to your neck. You were breathing heavily as he nibbled on your sensitive skin, making a soft moan escape your lips.Â
His hand made its way under your shirt and your breath hitched, causing Jungkook to lift his head from your neck, and look you in the eyes.Â
âYou okay?â he asked softly.Â
You nodded. âIâm okay.âÂ
âOkay,â he smiled, making your heart skip a beat. âIs it okay if I take this off now?âÂ
âIâ,â you were at a loss for words. Was this really happening? It seemed too good to be true. But it was happening and you wanted it more than anything else. âOkay. Yes, you can.âÂ
Jungkook peeled your shirt off, exposing your naked chest. You didnât wear bras; found it too much of a hassle and you always hated the feeling. Instead, you wore nipple tapes.Â
âWhat are these, Sola?â Jungkook asked with a chuckle, making your cheeks heat up.Â
âTheyâre nipple tapes, you dumb ass,â you replied, smacking his arm lightly.Â
âOkay. Do I just take them off, like, tape?âÂ
He was adorably cute. âYes, you just take them off like tape.âÂ
And so he did just that. The coolness of the room and your arousal instantly perked your nipples. Jungkook took your breasts in his hands, massaging and squeezing them, making you arch your back ever so slightly. Then, he dipped his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth while remaining to massage the other.Â
The sensation was simply divine. You didnât know if it was the alcohol in your system, your feelings for your best friend, or just Jungkook in general that made you feel so good at that moment. Your hands traced the outline of his toned biceps through his thin polo.Â
You were so wet and when Jungkook began to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt, you felt another wave of wetness. You wanted himâall of himâand so you began to rock your hips against him, making him release a moan.Â
He lifted his head, staring at you with those doe eyes you have loved for seven years. âAre you sure?âÂ
Those three words held so much. Once you crossed the line, there was no going back, and both of you knew that.Â
âIâm sure. I want this, Guk. I want you.âÂ
That was all he needed to hear to make love to you the whole night. Once both of you came, Jungkook laid beside you, chest heaving. For a while, the both of you lay in silence.Â
âWill you be here in the morning?â you asked, turning your head on the pillow to face him.Â
He did the same. âI will,â he promised. âGo to sleep now, Sola.âÂ
But he wasnât.Â
When you woke up the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. You sat up, burying your face in your hands. What the hell have I done? What the hell have we done?Â
You left the bed, entering the bathroom, and proceeding to take a shower. In there, you cried, because nothing was going to be the same after last night. You couldnât blame it all on Jungkook either. You also made it happen. You desperately wished it was just a dreamâanother wet dream you had of your best friendâbut the traces of his cum were still on your inner thigh.Â
It happened. There was no going back. Everything was going to be different now and most of all, you didnât know if you still had your best friend.Â
When you finished showering and getting dressed, you made your way down to the beach. You had texted Mingyu while getting dressed and he told you he was there with the chinito you saw him with, Wonwoo. Arriving at the beach, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, about to text the honey-skinned med student when you saw Jungkook with Areum in the water, his strong arms that held you throughout the night, now wrapped around her waist. Fits of giggles escaped her lips as Jungkook wrestled with her in the water, a huge grin on his handsome face.Â
Your heart shattered.Â
You quickly looked away, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes. As you were about to turn away, you heard Mingyuâs familiar voice which caused you to stop on your tracks.Â
âSola, hey, there youâwhatâs wrong?â The concern in his voice was palpable. You felt his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him.Â
âIâI finally told him, Gyu,â you said, taking in a sharp shaky breath. âI finally told him.âÂ
Mingyu didnât ask for more details. He knew. He led you back to your room, promising Wonwoo to text him later. Once you were back, you just cried on his shoulder. He didnât say anything and neither did you. He just let you be until the tears finally stopped.Â
âIâm sorry I pulled you away from Wonwoo. He seems like a nice guy,â you said after a while, voice raspy from all the crying.Â
âItâs fine. Weâll be seeing each other often anyway,â Mingyu shared.Â
You looked at him, surprised. âReally?âÂ
Your friend nodded, laughing to himself. âYou know, all those times I teased you about your being a hopeless romantic and believing in loveâI think itâs backfiring on me now with Wonwoo.âÂ
âYou love him?â you asked.Â
âI donât know, Sola. But I know what I feel for him is different,â he answered. âItâs terrifying. How quickly someone can change your perspective on something.âÂ
You couldnât argue with that.Â
âWhatâs your plan now?â Mingyu asked.Â
You sighed deeply. âI think Iâm going to head back. My graduation is tomorrow anyway. Do you mind booking the bus ride home?âÂ
âIâm staying here, Sola. IâI want to be with Wonwoo more,â Mingyu confessed, smiling at you apologetically.Â
âGyuâŠâÂ
âPlease be a friend to me now, Sola.âÂ
You pressed your lips tightly. Then, you nodded. You wanted your friend to be happy.Â
âIâm gonna pack now,â you announced.Â
âOkay. Just text me if you need anything,â Mingyu gave you a hug and kiss on top of your head. âI want you to know Iâm proud of you, Sola.âÂ
Once Mingyu left, you began to pack. You didnât bring a lot of clothes, but you were still biding your time. A part of you didnât want to leave. You wanted to stay here and never graduate. But that illusion was quickly broken when you saw your momâs contact flashing on your phone screen.Â
You sucked your teeth before answering, âHi mom.âÂ
âSola? Where the hell are you? Why havenât you been answering my texts? Your graduation is tomorrow. Everyone is looking forward to it!â she exclaimed frantically.Â
âMom, Iâm sorry. Iâm in La Union with Jungkook andâ,âÂ
âWhat the hell are you doing in La Union?! You better get back instantly, Sola. Iâm not kidding. If you donât graduate now, I really donât know what Iâm gonna do. Itâs been seven years! Please let me graduate too.âÂ
âIâm already packing and Iâll catch the bus home soon. I justâMom, I donât know if Iâll be able to make it in time for the ceremony âcosâ,âÂ
Your phone was suddenly snatched from your grip. You looked up and saw Jungkook standing beside you.Â
âHey tita, itâs Jungkook. Yes. Donât worry. Iâll take her home. Sheâll make it in time. Yes. Weâll be home before the ceremony, tita. Okay. Bye.âÂ
He ended the call and sat down on the bed across from you, handing you your phone back. You grabbed it from him. âYou donât have to take me home.âÂ
âI already promised tita I will,â he answered.Â
âYou didnât have to,â you muttered, folding your shirt.Â
Silence. Jungkook was just staring at you the entire time as you folded your clothes and packed them inside your bag. Then, he said those two words.Â
âIâm sorry.âÂ
You bit the inside of your lower lip. What was he exactly for? For having sex with you? For spending the night with you? For not feeling the same way as you? All of the above?Â
As if reading your thoughts, he added, âFor everything.âÂ
You nodded. âYou donât have to apologize for anything,â you told him. âItâs not your fault you donât love me the same way.â But why did you kiss me? Why did you make love to me?Â
Jungkook lowered his head. You zipped your bag. âLetâs go. I still have a graduation to chase.âÂ
âWhatâs this?â you asked, eyebrows furrowed when you saw Areum standing beside Jungkookâs car with her luggage and bag.Â
âIâll drop Areum on the way,â Jungkook announced, grabbing her luggage and putting it at the back of his car.Â
You pressed your lips in a line. âFine.â You stepped into the back passenger seat, quickly grabbing your phone and earphones from your bag, and plugging it in.Â
Lowering yourself on the seat, you rested your head against the window as Areum stepped into the passenger seat while Jungkook sat on the driverâs seat. You caught him glancing at you from the corner of your eyes, but you didnât look back. Instead, you turned the volume up. Moments later, he began to drive.Â
You decided to sleep the entire ride. However, when you woke up, you immediately realized Jungkook wasnât driving in your hometown. âWhere are we?â you asked, taking one of your earphones off.Â
âIâm dropping Areum first,â Jungkook replied.Â
You frowned. âIâm the one chasing a graduation, remember?âÂ
âShh, just go back to sleep. Here,â he threw something at youâyour favorite candy, Butterball, landing on your lap.Â
You grabbed it, tempted to eat it, but you threw it back at him and went back to sleep. By the time you woke up again, you were at Areumâs house. She turned to look at you, smiling.Â
She was really beautiful and kind. You began to feel guilty for hating her so much the entire time. âCongrats on your graduation, Sola. Iâll see you around, okay?âÂ
âThanks Areum.âÂ
After Jungkook walked her to her door, he came back to the car. âWhat are you doing there? Come here,â he said, patting the passenger seat.Â
âIâm fine here,â you replied.Â
âSola, come on. Please? I drive better with you beside me.âÂ
For the rest of the ride to your home, you sat beside Jungkook. Unlike before, where your car rides were filled with music and random conversations, tonight it was silent. You didnât plug your phone into his stereo and you kept your eyes closed the whole time, listening to your music. Once in a while, Jungkook would try to make small talk, but you would only give him short replies, then went back to sleeping.Â
When you arrived at your family house, you stayed with Jungkook outside for a bit, both leaning against his car.Â
âItâs your graduation in four hours.âÂ
âAre you not going to come to yours?âÂ
âI donât see the point,â Jungkook replied.Â
You nodded and pushed yourself off his car. âIâll head inside. Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.âÂ
He grabbed your arm before you entered the gate. You stared into his eyes. You couldnât quite place what held them right now. Maybe you never really knew Jeon Jungkook after all this time.Â
âIâm sorry, Sola.âÂ
âWhy do you keep saying sorry? I told youâitâs not your fault and Iâm fine. Iâm over it now. See you around, Jungkook.âÂ
You head back inside. Graduation was in four hours.Â
You wore a traditional Filipiniana dress, a pair of white heels that were already scraping the skin at the back of your feet, your motherâs pearls, and your sablay when your name was called. You came up on the stage with your excited mother, shook hands with your Dean, and finally grabbed your diploma. You always imagined graduation to be something so spectacular, but the moment you received the piece of paper that confirmed you had, indeed, graduatedâyou just felt the same.Â
After the ceremony, you went back to your house where almost all your relatives from your motherâs side were waiting for you. A tarpaulin with your graduation picture and the words, âCongratulations Yu Sola!â printed on it and hung outside your gate. You greeted everyone on your way, telling them thanks, before retreating in your room to change out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes.Â
While you were slipping on your shirt, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. When you grabbed it, you saw Jungkookâs message on the lockscreen.Â
Letâs go, it said.Â
You knew it meant one thing: a beer and butterball at Route 96. There was still a part of you that wanted to go because you always went when you received a message like that from Jungkook. It was always a yes when it came to him. But now that you confessed, something shifted, whether he admitted to it himself or not.Â
So, you put your phone in your pocket, and went down. But as you do so, you felt your phone vibrate again. You pulled it out of your pocket and Jungkook texted you another message.Â
Please? One for the road. Iâm outside.Â
You bit your lower lip. Then, you made your way out. There, you saw Jungkook wearing his barong and sablay, leaning against his car like hours ago. He smiled as soon as he saw you come out.Â
âYou still have it,â he pointed to your shirt.Â
You looked down on it and realized you had picked his shirt of all things. It wasnât anything special; just something he bought at a boutique. But it meant a lot to you because he gave it to you after you spilled beer on your shirt years ago.Â
âYou attended your ceremony?â you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He nodded. âI thought you didnât see the point.âÂ
âI changed my mind.âÂ
You wished you were just as quick in having a change of heart.Â
âOne for the road?â he asked, tilting his head to the side.Â
You took a deep breath and nodded. âOne for the road.âÂ
âShit, I forgot itâs Sunday. Itâs closed,â Jungkook sighed, seeing the steel gate at Route 96.Â
âItâs fine. Letâs just go,â you told him, grabbing the beer he bought beforehand and making your way up to the bar. Jungkook followed behind.Â
You both leaned in the railing before you, beer in hands. Another silence.Â
You couldnât believe this was the culmination of the seven years you spent loving Jeon Jungkook. You thought, after confessing, you would never speak again. Heâd distance himself from you but here you wereâhaving a beer with him at your favorite place in the world. You wished you knew what was going on in his mind right now. You wished you could dissect his mind and learn every thought he had ever since you confessed.Â
Because you never really knew Jeon Jungkook. You were just so in love with him and idealized who he was over the last seven years. Suddenly, all the stupid memories you shared with Mingyu flashed in your mind and made you laugh.Â
âWhatâs funny?â Jungkook asked, chuckling.Â
You shook your head, drinking your beer. âNothing.âÂ
He nudged your side. âCome on, share it.âÂ
You took a deep breath and for the first time, you looked at Jeon Jungkook and saw him for who he was; not the man you have loved for the past seven years.Â
âI graduated, finally.âÂ
âȘË authorâs note: if you want to donate to me via kofi or gcash <33 i would appreciate it a lot. thank you & see you in more fics later on.
âȘË permanent taglist: @whoa-jo @kookieandjoonberries
all rights reserved. 2024. belovedguk.
#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x oc#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fics#bts x reader#bts x oc#bts fanfic#bts fics#jungkook filo au#bts filo au#jungkook smut
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Somebody does love | MYG - They Meet
Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader
Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.
This is the one where the two meet for the first time. Part 2 of Somebody Does Love.
Series Masterlist
Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst
Word count - 3k+
Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of
Ratings - 13+
A/N - Apologies for the late update. But do let me know in the comments what you think of the chapter and what direction you want to see the narrative flow in. Also, this is not proofed, please excuse typos, tense, and grammar errors. And if you liked it, please please please engage with the post. Comment, like, repost. Your engagement is the sole reason I am pushed to write.Â
Your flight landed with a two-hour delay at 5 pm at the Incheon airport. After collecting your baggage and going through customs, you shot a text to your friend and waited near one of the cafes inside the airport for the crowd to die down. In about 10 minutes you lugged your bags behind you, pulling your mask further up your nose and pulling the bucket hat to right above your eyes.Â
It didnât take long to spot Sammy. Dressed in all black, he had a casual gait that only he could have. It also helped that he carried a little cat poster. You could see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he saw you walking out, which mirrored your own.
âOh itâs so good to finally have you here!â he said while hugging and slightly managing to lift you off the ground.
âI know. But I am so hungry and nervous and I have such a bad headache,â you mumbled into his jacket shoulder.
âLetâs get you washed, fed and rested. Come on,â he chuckled patted your back and took one of your bags before starting walking towards his car. Ah! His car. A black 2022 Maserati Ghibli Modena. One that he has been yapping about for months on end.Â
You honestly found it ridiculous. The inordinate amount of money people would pay to procure âluxuryâ items always confounded you. Sure, wealth commands a certain amount of comfort- Your brain stopped as soon as you sat down on the passengerâs seat of the car. Your ass was far more comfortable than it has ever been on any bed or couch that you have ever owned. Maybe you can allow yourself to see why someone would spend hundreds and thousands of dollars on a car.Â
Sammy closed the back of the car, with all your bags safely tucked in, and walked over to the driverâs seat. He saw you leaning back onto the seat with your eyes closed. He smirked behind the mask and sat down, swiftly starting the car.
âStill think this was an unnecessary splurge?â his mask had come off and he had that wide eye-crinkling smile.
âMaybe not,â you smiled to yourself. âHow far is your place from here?â
âAbout an hour, with the school and office traffic now, some more.â
âMy dead body will enter your residence, Kim Woosung,â you groaned and pulled at the seatbelt in annoyance. Both your mask and hat were now on your lap. Your head felt like the persistent beating of 500 drums all at once.
âTry to take a nap, I will play your sleep playlist,â he suggested.Â
You could not move another muscle to bother with a response. His reply was like a command. With your eyes shut, you shifted your shoulders to place your neck relatively comfortably. The last thing you remember is the comforting, low hum of white noise filling up the space around you.
_______________________
You walked out of the SNU campus, your colleague and friend Samairah in tow. She is the reason you are in Seoul in the first place. You met at an academic conference in Edinburgh when you were still PhD researchers. Dr Samairah Nazli is now a full-time professor of Gender Studies at the prestigious Seoul National University.Â
âIt is just a contract for the coming academic year, Y/N! Come on! You will also get to spend time with Sammy.â You had scoffed back at your friend over the video call last November when she said her department wanted to invite you as a Visiting Professor for their newly-introduced Feminist Economics course and the existing Gender and Media course that a now-retired professor used to handle.Â
But a week later when you found yourself in a virtual meeting with the Dean, Department Head and the Vice Chancellor, the opportunity did seem intriguing. They did want to eventually offer you a full-time position. You would be tenured at 32! Also, you can work with Samairah again, after working on your first book together, you knew you would work together again.Â
And of course, you get to spend time with Sammy. One of your best friends. Kim Woosung of The Rose. But only Sammy to you. Crazy to think that you only met him about three years ago, at Friar Park of all places on the planet, but lord, did you love that dude to bits.
âWanna grab a drink?â Samairah asks, as you both head towards the subway station.
âNo, meeting the broker again.â
âThis will be the 8th place sheâs showing you?â
You shook your head as you dug in your pockets for the cigarette case. âNo. Ninth.â
You lit a cigarette and said, âI really want to finalise a place and settle down before the semester begins.â
âTough to do all that in what- 12 days now?â she counted the days mentally and grabbed the smoke you held out for her to counter.
âI wish I were a millionaire at times like these,â you took back the smoke and gave it a long drag as you stopped at the crossing. Samairah would go straight from here to catch her train and you will take a left and meet Hwang Seul-gi. Your realtor. Broker. Currently, the most important person in your life.
You could have opted to stay at the Siheung-Si staff residence for part-time and visiting faculties, but that would mean you would spend half the day in transit. And you hated transit. Motion made you sick. So yes, car trips with you are absolute joyrides for your friends.Â
You also wanted time to work on the manuscript of the next book you are planning. And you want enough time to sleep. God, you wish to have a carefree night of sleep soon. Not that Sammyâs guest room is bad, it is comfortable, and luxurious even when you consider the free cuddles from Woolfie, but it still is not a place of your own.Â
Although Sammy argued the opposite back when you told him about your year-long relocation to Seoul. He wanted you to live as roommates. Even offered you to pay for house-sitting in mirth, for all the times he would be away on tour.Â
Again, you loved the guy. But his social butterfly stages of self are something you could take in small doses. You knew what his schedule was like, how many people dropped by for work at his home studio, and even just because to share drinks. But a whole year of it would drive you mad. So Sammy finally gave up trying to convince you and connected you to Seul-gi.
The lovely Seul-gi who yet again showed you a wonderful place, reasonably near the campus. But the deposit itself would require you to sell both your kidneys, maybe an eye and even a good chunk of your liver.
It was almost 7:30 by the time you left the apartment complex and headed towards Sammyâs place. You could take a cab, but the crisp late February air made a nice weather for a walk. You were passing through a park, almost deserted at the time, when you heard a noise that alerted you.
It sounded like someone was struggling. Some animal. You could hear low grunts, probably a puppy or a kitten, but you looked around and saw nothing immediately. The noise continued so you stopped and tried to follow the direction of the sound.Â
You reached a bush at the side of the pathway and were sure that this was the location. But the sun was already down. Dim yellow lights sparsely lit the park pathway, enough for people to look and walk, but not enough to see within the bushes.Â
By the noise you could now tell that there was also a metal scraping noise, but barely so. You turned on your phone's flashlight but still saw nothing. You looked around but saw no one. Trying your best to not step on any of the plants, you entered the bush and squatted down with the flashlight.
âHey, are you okay?â a low but heavy voice from above you startled you and the phone almost dropped from your grip as you stood up to see who it was. A man donning all black with a mask, a cap and a hoodie looked right back at you. Only his eyes were visible and the eyes were filled with concern. In the commotion of your entry into the bush and stomping around, ever so mildly within it had now increased the noise.Â
It sounded like a distressed kitten. You looked back down and could see one of the drainage grills under the dense foliage of the bush. You looked back up at the stranger and said, âI think a kitten has fallen into the drain.â
Before the man could respond, you squatted back down again and saw the drain and beady little eyes inside it clearly this time. You put down your bag beside you on the ground and put all your effort into pulling the iron rungs up. You could feel it move a little, but not enough to dislodge it.Â
âHey baby, donât worry. I will get you out of there,â you cooed through your laboured breath. By now, the stranger had joined you. You both exchanged glances and without saying a word you went in and pulled at the grille together at the same time. It seemed a lot easier with the two of you having pulled at it. With one arm, the stranger shifted the grille aside.Â
You peered down the drain and extended your arm to grab the kitten. The poor being was scared and cold and probably even more traumatised by all the strange and sudden commotion. You leant down completely, with your stomach on the ground and lowered yourself into the opening up to your shoulders to grab the kitten with both your hands.
The man next to you extended a cautious arm as if to make sure you donât fall in. Well, the opening was not big enough for you to fall into. But you could get weirdly stuck. But soon he saw your body lifting up and his extended hand hovered over your body, never touching, but ready to help if needed.
You came back up with a feisty calico kitten in your hands who initially made a few tiny scratches on your palm but was now just shivering. The man beside you promptly took off the work jacket he was wearing over his hoodie and handed it towards you. How many layers is he wearing? A small part of your mind wandered, but you quickly grabbed it from him, giving him a thankful smile and wrapped the kitten up in the jacket and held her close to your body, for maximum warmth.
You looked down at the ground near your feet where your bag was and before you could bend over to grab it, the man swooped in and said, âI got this.â
After you stepped out of the bush, you turned to the man again and said, bowing politely, âThank you for your help.â
âNo problem at all. I have two cats of my own, I know the fear of losing themâ he said in a calm but understanding tone. You looked at his eyes more closely while he talked, you could have sworn you had met him before, but didnât know where.
You shook your head and replied, âOh no, this is not my cat.â And then you explained the noise you followed. The man nodded his head and looked around probably thinking the same thing that you were. âDo you think the mother is around here somewhere?â you asked.
âIf she were, she wouldnât be too far away.â
You looked back down at the kitten, who had stopped shivering now but was still covered in a considerable amount of mud and dirt. You also considered checking if she was chipped and if the person could be notified if she was already a pet. âDo you know of any vet nearby? I am new here, so-â
âYes, itâs on my way. I will drop you,â he held his arm out to point in the general direction of where you were headed to go back to Sammyâs. You started walking and the man joined you. Out of the park, and having crossed two traffic signals and taken two right turns, you reached the vetâs chamber. It was reasonably empty. You put your name in the register and waited.Â
The man sat in a chair next to you but one. He looked over to see you making conversation with the kitten. Of course, she wonât be able to say if she lost her mother or forgot her way home. But the sing-song voice you used clearly worked. He could see the large dark beady eyes of the kitten staring back at your face with wonder and trust.
He too looked at your face with wonder and felt a strange sense of trust and comfort. When he saw a person climb inside a bush at a more or less empty park on a random Thursday evening, he half expected it to be a madman. But when he peered in and saw the glow of a flashlight, he grew more curious.Â
He noticed how a part of your right elbow was scraped slightly, not that you seemed to notice. He also saw the muddy bits on your beige outfit. And then looked again at the kitten wrapped in his jacket, on your lap.
âY/N,â the receptionist called out. You stood up and turned towards the man and gave him a curt nod. He blinked several times before nodding back at your retreating figure and gulped down a deep breath. Did you catch him staring? Even if you did, you didnât let it show. Y/N. Y/N. He repeated the name in his head a couple of times.Â
It was only after the doctor examined the kitten and told you that she has no chips, and is healthy but is slightly malnourished, that you realised you have so far, that is almost in 30 to 40 minutesâ time, not once asked for the man's name - the stranger in black, now at pet clinic reception.
You just followed a stranger through a dimly lit park and ended up where you are now. When put that way, doesnât sound like the safest thing to do.
The groomers had taken the kitten to another room to clean her up. The vet wrote up some supplements that the kitten could be given and asked you to wait outside. You walked out and saw the man, right where he was, hugging your bag on his lap, scrolling through his phone. Cap, mask and hoodie - still intact. You went up to him and sat in the seat next to him but one.Â
âThanks for looking after my bag,â you smiled.Â
The man looked up at you and held the bag out, you could see the crinkles of his smile near his eyes. âIs she alright?â he asked.
You explained whatever the doctor said.Â
âAre you going to keep her then?â
Your eyes widened comically and then it dawned on you. You donât even have a place for yourself. Where the fuck are you gonna keep her? And if the mother was still around, she would likely not be malnourished, so it is not like you can hope to reunite her with her mom.Â
Sammy would not mind, for now, you knew. But Woolfie? How would he react?
Seeing you stunned, the man chuckled, âYou hadnât really thought so far, had you?â
âNot really. My immediate instinct was to just release the kitten. But sheâs so small and frail, I cannot possibly let her be anywhere else. But-â
Before you could say anything else, one of the groomers approached you, with the kitten now in a cosy, little carrier, all clean and dried. And he carried the jacket she was wrapped in, in the other hand.Â
You thanked him and then turned to the man next to you and looked guiltily down at the jacket on your right hand. âI am sorry about this. I will get it dry-cleaned and return it to you. And also, I am sorry I didnât catch your name till now. I am Y/N Y/L/N," you draped the jacket over your other forearm and extended your arm for a shake.
âHI Y/N, I am Min Yo-,â he choked on his words before he cleared his throat and said taking your hand and giving it a firm shake, âI am Min Yong-Ho.â
You smiled back and walked out of the vet clinic. âI go this way now,â you pointed towards the left.Â
âOh I go the opposite way,â you could see the hint of a smile but also maybe apprehension.
You had bought cat food worth a week, food bowls, a litter box, litter pellets and a small cat bed. You requested the store to deliver the items to Sammyâs address. In the meantime, you had texted the bare bones of your encounter to him. So he was ready to greet a kitten into his home by the time you went back and for the time being had locked his bedroom door, where Woolfie was fast asleep.
You nodded and asked the man, âSo, Yong-ho, how do I return your jacket?â
The man looked around, eyes seeming frantic, almost like a deer caught in headlights. Until finally he pointed at a cafe on the opposite side of the road. âHow about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?â
âSure, I will bring back a spick and span jacket, I promise,â you said and asked, â6 PM sounds good?â
â6 PM sounds perfect,â the man nodded and waved back at you as you went your way - the kitten in the carrier in one hand, his jacket in the other and your bag, now draped as a sling across your body. He doesnât know how long he stood there. But he kept staring your way for five seconds longer after your silhouette disappeared over the horizon.
Taglist: @majiiisstuff, @starlighttaek8, @yoongrace
#min yoongi#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts imagines#bts suga#min yoongi x reader#suga#yoongi fic#yoongi#agust d#kim woosung#suga x reader#suga fanfic#bts#bangtan#suga bangtan
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people don't write about Woosung enough, there's like... 8 whole fics for him and they're mostly angst đ y'all need to stan The Rose cool thanks đ
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hello, hellooooo! ⊠poking around for some long-term rp partners. be sure to drop a heart on this post if you're interested, and i'll reach out!
i'm 25+, she/her, and comfortable with muns 23 and older. discord and mewe are my preferred platforms at the moment! my activity will fluctuate during the weekdays, so patience is a huge give-and-take.
things i'm looking for: * bold, from here on out, indicates priority!
⧠enthusiasm and energy, above all (cannot stress this enough!) ⊠world building(!), head canons, pinterest boards, and playlists ⧠oc/au: slice of life, high fantasy/medieval(!), and general angst ⊠general canon compliant(!) semi-au for idols and/or strictly au ⧠mxm, mxf, fxf with a 80:20 split ratio in plot:smut for threads
currently musing members from the listed groups, as well as soloists:
⊠victon(!!!), xeed, onlyoneof, kard (or any group if au/oc!) ⧠woodz(!), dpr live, dpr ian, dean, woosung, loren, yeeun
* ships within these groups are chemistry-based and not prioritized! altogether, i'm only comfortable writing as/against muses who are at least 1998 line and older. 3rd gen is familiar for me, but not required!
third person pov, current/past tense, semi-para to multi-para, willing to mirror length/style/tense while never expecting you to mirror me! i'm usually very plot/thread-focused, so ooc conversation will kept to a minimum. i'm not a stickler about it, though, and welcome positive, chill, funny ooc vibes! even if we're not talking about our plot/muses. please note that passive/seemingly uninterested plotting replies will receive the same energy. if you're not interested in something, please be honest and tell me upfront so we can either switch up the plot or part ways. no hard feelings, i simply want us both happy and excited!
đž !
#krp ad#krp 1x1#1x1 rp#idolverse#original#fxf#mxf#mxm#discord#mewe#soloist#kard#onlyoneof#victon#xeed
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In Between
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/uPSLmhj by TheMoonInAllHerForms Letters Words: 2160, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English Series: Part 2 of The Spaces Fandoms: ATEEZ (Band) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Characters: Song Mingi (ATEEZ), Jeong Yunho (ATEEZ) Relationships: Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi (ATEEZ) Additional Tags: sorrow +, Single POV, mingi is a mess, I'm Sorry, teaser, Song Mingi is Bad at Feelings (ATEEZ), Song Mingi Needs a Hug (ATEEZ), Angst, I'm really sorry, Song: Day That I Died (WooSung) read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/uPSLmhj
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â back to character select | back to main menu
đ many of these works contain sexual content (18+ mdni) đ †â angst :: ⥠â fluff :: ⧠â smut â â ongoing :: â â hiatus :: â â discontinued :: â â completed
â oneshots
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
â drabbles
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
â timestamps
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
â miniseries
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
â series
â DISCLAIMER :: MONSTER/ALIEN FUCKER ENTHUSIAST â Â©ïž kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.
#the rose scenarios#the rose imagines#the rose fanfic#the rose fanfiction#the rose angst#the rose fluff#the rose smut#the rose x reader#woosung scenarios#woosung imagines#woosung fanfic#woosung fanfiction#woosung angst#woosung fluff#woosung smut#woosung x reader#the rose masterlist#kwanisms masterlist
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last to know | m.list
pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader
summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes backâ to seoul and in your life.
general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!
author's note: hi!! hello!! remember me? remember this? i am here to deliver. there is no set schedule for new chapters because, in this house, we thrive on unpredictability! the past few months were crazy: i took a national exam, passed it, and then i needed a month to recover from all that jazz. gosh, i missed you all! hop on this train wreck and let's journey through this new fic together ksksks
if you don't know who Kim Woosung is, he is the lead vocalist and electric guitarist for the Korean rock band, The Rose. go check them out! their songs are so heartfelt and great. yes, he will get quite a significant amount of airtime in this fic, but i promise, this is and will be a jk x (f) reader end-game kind of story.
tags for interested readers will be open! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference! ok now we're done with that, let's go!
chapters
âïœĄÂ°â© chapter 1: haunted dreams (3.9k)
âïœĄÂ°â© chapter 2: as always, even now (5.9k)
âïœĄÂ°â© chapter 3: coming soon!
drabbles
coming soon!
#jungkook x reader#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x you#jungkook imagine#bts au#jungkook fic#bts jungkook#bts fanfiction#jungkook x y/n#jungkook fanfic#woosung x reader#jungkook divorce au#divorce au#childhood friends#jungkook angst#jungkook series
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OUR SEESAW - Chapter 15
Pairing: Min Yoongi x female OC
Genre: idol au, Suga X female OC, smut, fluff, angst, college romance, friends to lovers, exes to lovers, happy ending. â ïžWarning: mentions of mental health affections, drugs, explicit sex
Words: 6k
âł Prev. Chapter
Chapter 15 - Burning Up
Woosung and Hobi's birthday came, and the singer had offered his house for a pre-celebration with his closest circle. It wasn't supposed to be a huge party, just drinking some cocktails and eating some snacks.Â
Woosung had barely finished bathing and was walking around the house shirtless with his hair still soaked when Emmy knocked on his door.
âHi! You came ear...â Unable to finish his sentence, Woosung gawked at his friend, his drool practically spilling out. She looked breathtaking in a tiny black dress. "Damn, Emm!"
The girl didn't reply, as she was very busy picking up a box of champagne bottles. "Directly from France to you, happy birthday!" She congratulated smiling from ear to ear and handing them to him.
âWow⊠looks like someone's feeling better."Â
"Has anyone else arrived yet?"
"No, it's still too early, they'll be here in an hour, maybe an hour and a half."
"So... do we have time?"
Woosung was placing the champagne on a table, but upon hearing his friend's words, he turned around with a leering look. "I haven't heard those words in a long time. I thought you didn't want..."
"That I didn't want? Woo, you've known me for YEARS, how do you say something like that? But tell me, what can you offer today?"
"Whatever you want, as always..." He answered in an alluring manner.
"Are you sure we have enough time?"
The eyes, the smile, the way she held Woosung's hands to make him hurry, everything, absolutely all of Emmy's body language showed the excitement she felt.
âThat's not a problem, time has never been. And if you're worried about that, it's nothing a phone call can't fix.â
As if that apartment were her home, Emmy walked to Woosung's room with him, and that's when the singer understood what his friend meant. Emm wasn't looking to sleep with him like in the old days, she wanted the drug that Woosung kept.
The singer laughed at himself and was about to try to convince her to have fun together, but seeing what Emmy was pulling out, his eyes widened exaggeratedly.
âAre you planning to mix those two?â
"It's not the first time, why are you surprised?"
"I thought you didn't want something so wild for today."
"Hey! It's your birthday and Hobi's, my two best friends! How can I not celebrate it as it deserves?"Â
"Sure..." Silently, he watched as Emm used two different types of drugs, and although it was not common for him, he got a little anxious about it. "Emm, you haven't been okay and that's a bit strong, don't you think you should tone it down a bit?"
"This is nothing."
For a few minutes, Woosung did nothing but pay attention to her, dismayed that she would lose control too quickly; however, the minutes passed, and Emmy looked fine.
"What's up with you? When did you start to be the serious and responsible friend?â
"At least she's not yelling at me for not helping Yoongi..." he thought while taking a little of what Emmy had consumed.
Thus, a while passed in which both talked and laughed remembering their last birthdays.
"I had forgotten how wild turned out to be last year's party."
âDo you actually remember anything from that day, Woo? You were so wasted.â
"What I still don't quite understand is how we got to the beach so fast. I mean⊠we were in the heart of the city and suddenly the sea was in front of me.â
"You say that like you haven't done the same thing countless times." Woosung laughed, and after smoking from the joint he held in his fingers, he remained silent. "What's going on?"
âNothing, I was just remembering that night. You looked gorgeous, like today⊠â Woosung was about to caress Emmy's leg, but the girl didn't allow him, and standing up, she cleared her throat. âCome on, Emm, what's up with you lately, huh? It had never been so long since we last fucked. How much longer will I need to wait?"
Thinking it was a joke, the girl couldn't help but laugh; yet, Woosung looked at her from head to toe, making his intentions more than clear.
"You're joking, right?"
âWhen have I ever joked about this? I've always taken sex very seriously, mainly if it's with you because it's amazing.â He simply explained.
"Woosung, I have a boyfriend."
"So what? I have had them too, but that has never been an impediment. We're the perfect match, no strings attached, noâŠâ
âI told you that my relationship with Yoongi is serious.â
âI know, I'm not telling you to break up with him. Besides, you told me that nothing would change between us. And look at us now, talking like two average friends when we could be fucking as weâve done for years.â
âI'm not single anymore, and there's no way I'm gonna risk my relationship."
Emmy called it quits, but for the musician it was not over. It was the first time Emmy had rejected him and she didn't seem to want to change her mind.
"Emm, what the fuck? Are you serious? It's been MONTHS since we were last together. What's different that you're dating Yoongi now? It's just sex."
Ironically, that came out from the only person in that room for whom those words made no sense. He had wanted to convince himself that it was just sex, but it never really was. Knowing that he wasn't going to have anything serious with Emmy, he had settled for sleeping with her. At least for a few nights, he could feel that they were more than friends. If he had managed to be âchillâ with the whole Yoongi situation, it was only because he could swear that he and Emmy would continue to have their casual sexual encounters.
âWoo, I truly care about Yoongi.â
"Are you telling me that you went to Capri and didn't sleep with anyone?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you. Yoongi means too much to me to play with him. I had never thought that I could have something like that with someone, but I have it with him."
âSo, you and I don'tâŠ?â
"No, Woo. But you have so many beautiful girls waiting for you!â
Emmy winked at him, having no idea what her best friend really felt. Woosung had always been so open with all his relationships and so casual in referring to his sexual encounters, that Emmy could never imagine that he might feel something else. Added to the musician's true feelings, Woosung's pride was hurt that night. It was the first time he heard a no coming from someoneâs lips, even worse, from his best friendâs lips, the person with whom he had started his sexual life, with whom he had lived endless experiences and with whom, deep down, he always thought he would have a future.
At that time Woosung couldn't understand two basic things. The first, how much Emmy loved Yoongi, and the second, how dysfunctional he and Emmy would be together. There was no way in which a serious relationship between the two of them could work, they had many issues to resolve. His blindness and pride were about to lead him to make a whole scene of jealousy saying how absurd monogamy seemed to him; however, Woosung was speechless when he saw his friend consuming again.
"Emmy, what�"
"I think they're knocking on the door. While you open, I'll clean this and go to the bathroom."Â
************
Since Yoongi had to work late that night, he could only make it to the celebration quite late into the night. He would not miss it just because he had promised Emmy that he would accompany her and because he had given his word to Hobi that he would go; yet something about that party gave him a bad feeling. Jin and Namjoon's messages only confirmed what he believed. They both told him to hurry up because he was missing the best party of his life. And no wonder, Hobi was the life of the party, and as such, he planned quite a lively celebration. Moreover, Woosung had the money and friends to make it an unforgettable night.
Once at the party, Yoongi didn't even have time to suffer from his social anxiety, for the first thing he ran into was his girlfriend, who left him in total shock. Firstly, the girl looked gorgeous, and secondly, Yoongi had never seen her play the popular girl role better than she did that night. She spoke with everyone, laughed with everyone, toasted with many people, and did everything with such naturalness that anyone would buy it. In fact, she seemed to have no trace of the quiet, serious, vulnerable, and even melancholy girl who would come out in front of the piano or when she was alone with Yoongi.
The musician couldn't understand how that was the same person who hadn't eaten in days and who looked overly exhausted. How the hell did she manage to compose herself like that overnight?Â
A big hug was not enough to greet the musician, who inevitably blushed due to the kiss that Emmy stole from him. The girl grabbed his hand and took him with her to where Jin, Namjoon, Nara, and Hobi were. Sitting next to each other, Yoongi smiled tenderly at Emmy and leaned closer to speak in her ear.
âYou look gorgeous, freckles. Are you feeling better now?"
"I'm great!" She responded with a beautiful smile.
Hobi's joy that Yoongi had gone to his birthday led him to distract the musician more than once. Countless times the dancer would take Yoongi along with Namjoon and Jin. They all wanted him to enjoy that night like they did, so they didn't stop buying shots; also, taking advantage that the bar they were in had so many floors with different music, they took the musician on tours that ended with Jin and Namjoon talking to girls, Hobi dancing with strangers, and Yoongi laughing with new drinks in his hand. Due to this, Yoongi couldn't see the number of times Emmy âwent to the bathroomâ and come back with more energy. Yet, Woosung noticed it and tried to warn Emmy, but he failed caused of how euphoric she was.Â
Getting to escape from his friends, Yoongi came back to look for his girlfriend and found her with a new group of people. One glance was enough for Yoongi to get an idea of them. Dressed in garments from the most exclusive and luxurious brands, this entire group exuded wealth; undoubtedly, they had been born with silver spoons in their mouths. However, that didn't catch Yoongi's attention, after all, he had gotten used to that by Emmy's side. What captured his attention was the air of debauchery that surrounded them.
Their leering eyes and evil smirks made it clear that they had lived and experienced more than anyone else at that party. Still, none of them looked like a young rookie who would lose control that simple.
Paying closer attention, Yoongi noticed that one of the girls who was talking to his girlfriend, and actually going with her to the bathroom, was the same one he had seen a while ago on another of the floors of the place. The girl tried to approach him to invite him to have a drink; however, Yoongi turned her down. She kept insisting, and even though Yoongi was patient, she annoyed him to the point that he had to tell her to leave him alone, which caused him to earn some rather nasty comments.
He decided to sit down and wait for Emmy to come back.
"Yoongs, there you are! The boys have hogged you all night." She joked sitting next to him. "How did you escape?"
"Namjoon insisted on Hobi drinking more shots and Jin was talking to Nara."
"Do you think they'll get back together?"
"I hope so, he doesn't stop talking about her. But who am I to judge? He says I'm always talking about you, and I think he's right." Emmy giggled as Yoongi interlaced his fingers with hers.Â
Next to her diamond watch was a hand-braided man's bracelet Emmy had stolen from Yoongi since one of their first piano lessons. She never took it off and Yoongi couldn't help but find that cute. Yet, he could not comment on it, because thanks to the lights he was able to see Emmy's hand better and noticed how pale it was. He instantly raised his gaze to his girl's face and not even with the blush she was using she couldn't hide her paleness. Besides, he sensed how cold her hand was. What had happened? She wasn't like that before he went with the guys for the last time.
"Freckles you're freezing, do you want my jacket?"
"Freezing? That's weird, I don't feel any cold."
"Is that Emmy's boyfriend?" Jiyu, the girl who tried to hit on Yoongi, asked Woosung. She was the granddaughter of the directors of the most important broadcasting network in Korea.
âHmhmâŠâ The musician replied without wanting to go into much detail.
âWell, he's very handsome, but⊠who is he? His clothes are pretty basic, luckily he is hot." She commented laughing.
"Why do you want to know, Jiyu? Leave them alone, Emm's happy." The singer responded.
"I wanted to ask the same thing." Said another of the girls, who didn't hesitate to check Yoongi from head to toe. "I mean, I can see why she's dating him, but her boyfriend?" The young woman, heiress to an entire fashion empire, agreed with her friend's comment.
"Who are his parents?" This time was a man the one talking. He came from an important family whose political influence would intimidate anyone.
"I don't know," Woosung replied. âWhat a lame topic.â
"Lame?" The second girl asked ruining yet another attempt by Woosung to divert the conversation. âWe're talking about Emm with a boyfriend, that's anything but boring. Come on, tell us a little more, you are closer to her."
"There's nothing to tell, just that she's happy with him."
"Are you telling me that SHE is gonna settle for a nobody?" The boy asked letting out a wry laugh.
"Hey! Don't be a jerk."
âWoosung, we say this for her own good! You're her friend, you should warn her what will happen if she goes out with someone like that. Emmy's beautiful and popular, but that doesn't exempt her from having to take care of her image. Can you imagine what everyone will say? While Seri's dating who will easily be the next prime minister, Emm's dating someone no one knows who he is." Jiyu wasn't that nasty, but she couldn't bear the idea that Yoongi had rejected her.
âLet her date whoever she wants. Why are we talking about something so serious TODAY? It's enough!" Woosung said, brushing the comments away with his hands and making them laugh. "Look, here comes Nara!" Woosung had never been more grateful to see his friend there.
Meanwhile, Emmy was introducing Yoongi to Woosung's band members. At first, she thought that her boyfriend would treat them with the same seriousness and coldness that he used the first time he met Woosung. Yet, it was rather the opposite, and soon the four of them were comfortably talking, they even made several jokes, for they would never imagine that that boy who looked so serious could be so nice.Â
After a while, the original group regathered, it was about midnight, and they wanted to toast all together. However, Emmy was not even able to bring the glass to her lips, her pulse trembled uncontrollably from so much drug, so she ended up throwing the champagne at her and Yoongi, who tried to help her.
"Yoongi, I'm sorry!" Emmy's voice had risen unnecessarily as she tried to clean her boyfriend's shirt, but she cleaned everything except where Yoongi's shirt was OBVIOUSLY wet.
"It's okay, baby. It will dry up."
"I'm so sorry!" Emmy stood on her toes to hug him; however, she only got Yoongi to accidentally throw his glass while trying to push it away from her. "Oh, not again! Why am I this clumsy today?â
Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, and Nara thought that their friend had drunk too much, and they joked about it. On the other hand, something really strange happened. Yoongi and Woosung exchanged worried glances. They both knew that Emmy was not okay.
âEmmâŠâ Yoongi whispered taking her hands before she bent down to pick up what was left of the cup. âMy love, it's okay, you're not going to pick anything up, it's dangerous. Let's sit down for a while, okay?"
"Just let me go to the bathroom for a moment."
Before Nara could offer to accompany her, Emmy took her bag where she kept what was left of her drug. On the way to the bathroom, several people greeted her, but she did not pay attention to anyone, in her mind there was only being alone in the bathroom to be able to consume a little more.
However, shortly before reaching the bathroom, someone took her wrist, it was Woosung, who got close enough for her to hear him well. "Stop it."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, you've been consuming for hours."
âOh! Come on, Woosung! Drop it, this role doesn't fit you."Â
âEmmy, don't be an idiot! Precisely because Iâm the one telling you this you should listen and stop.â
"Why don't you get off my back?"
"Because you're stoned as fuck!"
From where he was sitting, Yoongi could see Woosung and Emmy talking. At first, he wanted to ignore the situation and not be bothered by his jealousy; but he couldn't and kept watching. After all, it seemed strange to him to see Woosung's face so serious.
"Move, Woosung."
"Honey, you're shaking, look at your hands."
"That's nothing."Â
"Emmy, go sit down, you're gonna make a fool of yourself if you continue⊠Emm!" He tried to call, but the girl had left him talking to himself.
Woosung's warning should have been taken seriously, but Emmy was too stubborn and drugged to accept it. However, the pressure she felt on her chest after consuming that last time in the bathroom made her stop for a moment. She looked at the mirror and started to feel repulsed at herself. Yet, the drugs didn't let her think clearly, she couldn't even see well, her senses were so sharpened that the lights that surrounded the mirror began to make her dizzy.
âShitâŠâ she whispered, holding on to the sink and taking a deep breath.
She already knew what was happening to her, she had consumed too much, and her body was demanding her to stop. She tried to regulate her breathing, even wetting her face a little to react. She was scared, but it wasn't the first time it had happened to her, she knew she could handle it. What she didn't count on was someone else walking into the bathroom right during her breakdown.
Emmy's gasp wasn't enough expression for the shock it had on her to see a girl identical to her sister. According to Emm, the girl was the same height, the same platinum hair, and the same cold gaze. Emmy was convinced that she was her sister and that she had found her drugged in a bathroom. In other circumstances, Emm would have been able to see the HUGE difference between that girl and Seri. They looked a bit alike, but not enough to send her into that state of panic.
"Emm, are you alright?" The girl knew who Emmy was, as she was one of Woosung's many friends. She tried to get closer, but Emmy jerked away from her and ran out of the bathroom.
This time not only Woosung was near the bathroom, Yoongi was also there. The interaction between his girlfriend and the singer had made him uneasy; besides, Woosung gave him a look in which he was clearly asking the musician for help.Â
Emmy came out of the bathroom so hysterical that she was practically running. She walked fast enough that Woosung couldn't stop her, and he was the one closest to her. She violently collided with a waiter who was carrying a huge box full of beer bottles on his shoulder. As expected, both Emmy and the waiter fell over. But that was not all, the box landed right on Jiyu's table, where she was talking with the rest of her group. Everything that happened next was chaotic, as the girl got her dress soaked in beer and she was madly making a whole scandal. The rest of the people were also enraged with the waiter, since the beers not only wet Jiyu's dress, but also their cellphones, wallets, and other belongings.Â
Woosung quickly walked over to the table to calm down his friends while Yoongi picked up his girlfriend off the floor. Yet, the screams of Jiyu were out of control. The waiter could not do more than lower his head and accept all her humiliations, something that deeply annoyed Emmy and led her to let go of Yoongi's arms.
"Jiyu, stop yelling at him, it wasn't his fault."
"Emmy, stay out! You have no idea what this idiot just did! This dress is haute couture!â
âI already told you it wasn't his fault! I'll pay you back, but stop yelling at him. Can't you be less rude?"
"I don't need your charity, save it for your boyfriend." Jiyu replied.
Yoongi could swear that he had never seen a look like Emmy's at that moment, it was even worse than the one she had when she found out what had happened to Yoongi's songs.
Woosung's jaw dropped upon hearing that comment. He didn't like Yoongi, but he would never dare to say something like that; nonetheless, what impressed him even more was the musician's reaction. The first thing Yoongi did was to stand in front of Emmy and try to calm her down, if he let her, he knew that she was capable of making an even worse scene. Even with his pride hurt, Yoongi didn't think of him for a second.
"What did you say?!" Emmy asked Jiyu trying to move Yoongi.
"Freckles, listen to me! Calm down."
âI said save your charity work for people who need it. Who do you think you're dealing with, Emmy? How dare you offer money TO ME?â
"Don't you dare, Jiyu!" Emmy warned completely losing her temper and after fleeing from Yoongi, she slapped Jiyu with such rage that her hand was printed on Jiyu's cheek.
"Emmy!" Yoongi said a little louder as he grabbed her by the wrist.Â
Things began to escalate quickly, soon Jiyu's friends had also gotten into the discussion, as well as Nara, who arrived in seconds to defend her friend.
Yoongi didn't want to hurt Emmy, so he tried to get her away from everything by gently pushing her, but Emmy got to slip away every time. On the other hand, Woosung walked away from Jiyu's friends, whom he was also trying to calm down, and totally unlike Yoongi, he pushed Emmy enough to make her stop.
"HEY!" Yoongi said, also changing his manner, but Woosung didn't let him say anything, for he spoke first.
âGet her out of here, if this becomes public, she'll be fucked up. Jiyu's family controls all the damn media, this is gonna be in the papers tomorrow if you don't get her out fast.â Woosung's concern was valid, but he had been late, for it was a fact that that drama would be out the next morning.
On any other day, and possibly on any other occasion, Yoongi wouldn't have listened to Woosung, and Woosung would definitely never have advised him, but that night was not the case. That night they both had the same purpose, so, as a tacit agreement, they worked together.
********
Finally at Yoongi's apartment...
âWhy did you take me out like that?! Yoongi, unlock the door!â
âEmmy, you can try all night, I don't have a problem with it, but you're not gonna get it open. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk out of here and beat someone up AGAIN."
âDidn't you hear how they talked about you? Let me out, Yoongi!"
Yoongi was going to let his girlfriend continue fighting with the door, until a sob made him approach again. This time, the musician wrapped his arms around her and tried to make her forget what had happened.
"I'll never forget it, Yoongs, I won't forgive anyone who hurts you." As soon as she turned around, Yoongi smiled at her tenderly and wiped her tears with the back of his hand.
âBaby, it's okay, I don't care what they say. I'm not going to waste my time with people who need to offend others to feel superior. Do you think it's the first time? It won't be the last either, and you can't react like that. It's dangerous."
"Yes, I will, I'll fight any idiot who badmouths you."
"Freckles, please."
"Yoongi shut up, you're not going to change my mind."
âThere are things that aren't worth it, like arguing with people like that. Are you actually going to make a scene every time we go out together and run into jerks? Baby, you must think about what will happen when your familyâŠâ
"You WON'T be in front of them ever."
The blunt way in which she responded made it abundantly clear to Yoongi where Emmy stood on the matter. Although the musician was very patient and willing to wait for their relationship to evolve at its pace, receiving that response was somewhat uncomfortable and even painful. He was normally very self-assured, but he couldn't help but think that maybe Emmy didn't want him mixed up with her family because of his socioeconomic status.
âFine, it's good to know.â
"Wait... what are you thinking?" Yoongi not only kept silent, but he also walked away from his girlfriend and walked to his room. "Yoongs?"
"I'm gonna take a bath."
Sitting on the bed, Emmy waited until the musician got out of the shower. Yoongi's coldness when speaking to her was enough for the girl to beg him to listen to her and let her explain what she had meant.
âI just want to protect you from them, that's all. I don't want you to expose yourself to Seri's hostile comments or Dad's stares."
Yoongi remained silent, waiting for Emmy to elaborate a little more for a change, but the girl was still under the influence of drugs and the only image that her brain kept reproducing was that of the girl just like Seri in the bathroom. Maybe if she consumed a little more⊠maybe just a little more would help her see things more clearly and be able to converse with Yoongi. But deep down, she knew that consuming a little more would mean she was one step away from overdosing. Had it been a mistake to return to Korea? Should she have stayed on Capri and spared Yoongi all that confusion and distress? How was she going to defend him from her family when she hadn't even been able to defend herself?
And there it was⊠again the migraine, but this time stronger.
"What do you have?" Yoongi asked as he noticed how she winced while digging her nails into her bedcover. "Emm?"
"My head"
âWait, I have some pills thatâŠâ
"No, no, no pills." Emmy was afraid that mixing one more substance would cause her to lose what little control she had left. "I'll go home and rest."
"No!" Yoongi stopped her even before she was on her feet. "You're not leaving like this, look at you!"
Her heart was beating dangerously fast, she had not noticed it before due to the rush of adrenaline resulting from her meeting with "Seri" and the discussion at the bar. But now that she was in a calmer place and she was more aware of her body, she noticed that her heart rate had increased.
 "My love, what do you have, what do you feel?" Yoongi asked seriously worried and remembering Woosung's concerned look when the girl entered the bathroom for the last time. "Talk to me."
The pain in her head was joined by some difficulty in breathing. That couldn't be happening, not in front of Yoongi, she couldn't put him through something like that, she had to calm down no matter what.
âEmmyâ Yoongi called a little louder and trying to figure out what she needed him to do. That's how he glimpsed that she was trying to pull down her zipper dress, something he helped her with. "Better?" he asked after helping her into one of his t-shirts and laying her down.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yoongi was carefully taking care of her; however, it was also impossible for her to fall asleep, because no matter how bad she felt, she wanted to clarify something first.
âLetting you have contact with my family is⊠it'd be safer to enter into a crocodile pit. I'd love things to be different, nothing would make me happier than taking you home, and introducing you to my parents as my boyfriend, but it's not possible, I'm not gonna do something like that to you."
Since the last discussion, Emmy had been gathering enough courage to tell Yoongi everything from her family problems to her addictions. Maybe that's why she had succumbed to drugs with such intensity in recent days. She was more than aware of how risky it would be to say all that to Yoongi, but despite wanting to do it, fear kept silencing her and it was not a good time to fight it.
She couldn't force herself like that, talking about these topics was equivalent to a very intense effort and impressions that her body definitely couldn't bear that night. In fact, she wasn't even able to continue talking to her boyfriend when she had already fallen asleep.
The next morning, Emmy woke up first, it was barely dawn when her anxiety made her get out of bed. She still did not feel fully recovered, but the crisis had passed.
She stealthily left Yoongi's room and found that Jin's door was open, apparently, the actor hadn't come to sleep. The living room continued as she and Yoongi had left it the night before, and sitting down on a couch, Emmy thought about what she would do next.
No matter how much she thought about it, she kept coming to the same two conclusions. Her first option would be to face her reality, share her secrets with Yoongi, and pray that the musician didn't hate her. The second option was to stop fighting and return to Capri. There, everything would be easier, she would be away from her family, away from the people she could hurt with her actions. Maybe it was the right time to leave before she hurt Yoongi more.
But was she capable of doing something like that?
âDid the headache come back?â a voice asked. Emmy hadn't realized that no matter how stealthy she tried to be, Yoongi woke up and after a few seconds, he went after her. "We need to do something about it, freckles." He took a blanket from the other couch and placed it over Emmy's shoulders. Next, he approached her and kissed her forehead.
She had no more doubts, no matter how painful and difficult it was, she had already made her decision. "Yoongs, we need to talk." Staring her eyes at the musician's, Emmy wanted to record that image forever, if that was going to be the last time they talked, the last time Yoongi saw her with that love, she never wanted to forget it.
Until that moment, Yoongi hadn't felt a few seconds as devilishly long as those in which he looked anxiously at his girl, waiting for her to start talking. But if he was having a hard time waiting, she felt that her world was falling apart. But she had made her decision, she had to stick to it.
âł Next Chapter: soon đ±
#bts#bangtan boys#bts army#min yoongi#suga bts#min suga#bts yoongi#bts hyung line#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#rm bts#jin bts#yoongi bts#suga fanfic#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#yoongi fanfic#suga fluff#suga angst#suga smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi smut#bts imagines#bts jhope#bts fic#bts namjoon#bts suga#suga scenario#suga imagine
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đčđ Sorry (Hajoon Series Part 5)
Part 1: Angel Part 2: Nauseous Part 3: Eclipse Part 4: Take Me Down
Summary: Getting drunk is the only way Hajoon feels like he can deal with everything.
CW: low self-esteem, drunkness, alcohol consumption, emeto
ì§ìłëČ늰 ë tonight
ìíì§ì§ ìë ë§
Hajoon was drunk. It had never been his intention but he hadnât wanted to go home after talking with the lawyer. Why should he? He hadnât wanted to see his ⊠co-workers. Yeah, thatâs all they were. Friends didnât hate friends.
But now, inside the bar and several shots later, he felt numb. He had hoped the alcohol would make him feel good. It didnât. Quite the opposite, he now felt like either crying or throwing up. Now even the previous buzzing effect had left him. If it wasnât going to work he might as well just go home and face the others.
He flagged the barman, paid his tab and stumbled outside. The fresh air hit him in the face and he took a deep breath, pulling his cap into his face even more. He doubted people would recognize him but if they did he couldnât drag the band down. Not more than he already did with his mere presence.
Hajoon called himself a taxi, not trusting himself to walk and not wanting to make anything harder if he was seen, and gave the address. Ten minutes later he stood in front of the entrance door and hesitated. He was dizzy, the world spinning a bit and the lights were on.
At least one of the others was home.
Any hope of just slipping undetected into his room vanished. Oh, hell. He fumbled with the keypad a bit, the numbers not quite where he thought they were. At last he was allowed entrance with his final try.
ëìŽíŹ ì ììŽ sorry
ìŽêž°ì ìž ë I'm sorry
Holding onto the wall, he made his way inside. He had taken only a few steps when he was met with a surprised shout of his name. Dojoon was standing at the end of the hall and ran towards him. What Hajoon did not expect was for the older man to hug him as soon as he reached him. What was Dojoon doing?
Woosung and Jaehyeong came into the hall as well, looking ⊠relieved? Oh, they were probably worried about him ruining their reputation.
Hajoon could already imagine the headline: Pathetic drummer of band The Rose, Lee Hajoon, found stumbling drunk in the streets. Or worse: The Rose members decided to continue as three after disagreement with disappointing drummer Lee Hajoon.Â
âHajoon-ah, we were âŠâ, Jaehyeong said, coming over to them. His eyes looked red. Hajoon was too drunk to try to understand why. Then the maknae sniffed. âAre youâŠ? Hyung, are you drunk?â
âWhat?â, Woosung asked, materializing next to Hajoon. The drummer felt caged in by them and pushed Dojoon away from him. âDylan, did you go out drinking?â
âAnd what if I did?â, Hajoon challenged the leader, âIâm an adult, I can take care of myself.â
Woosung looked angry again. âPlease stop. You are acting like a child. You know better than to go out drinking alone, especially with your past. Do you want to get depressed again?â
Oh, so this is why Hajoon was called the true maknae. It wasnât his shy and unassuming personality after all. They thought he acted like a child â the youngest. Maybe he was acting that way, he didnât care. The lights were swirling above him and he really didnât want to see the others anymore.
How dare Woosung bring his past into the conversation?
âFuck you, Sammyâ, Hajoon said and pushed past them, escaping to his room. He fell onto his bed, a position he had found himself in more and more often over time.
Getting up in the mornings was hard. He had had to move his alarm forward so he could forced himself out of his cozy safe haven in time. Between each schedule he found himself laying down and he was so tired at night he went to bed earlier than he had ever in his adult life. If he slept he didnât have to think, well, if he managed to sleep at all.
His bed was safe, the place where nobody could hurt him. His bed was the only place he wasnât judged. His bed didnât care about his talents or personality.
But suddenly the bed wasnât safe anymore. Footsteps â Jaehyeong â entered the room, coming to sit down next to him. Hajoon stubbornly ignored him. The maknae could fuck off too.
Then a gentle hand came to rest on Hajoonâs shoulder. âI know you are going through something, Hajoon-ah. We just want to help, please donât run away. Just talk to us and maybe whatever is going on will end. We all arenât happy like this.â
Hajoon just sobbed dryly.
íë €ì§ êž°ì”ì ë ì ë
íë€ìŽì žë§ ê°ëì§?
Hajoon didnât really remember falling asleep. He woke to unbearable nausea and before he knew it, he was throwing up all over himself. And the blanket. And, oh fuck, Jaehyeong. The younger must have fallen asleep next to him for some reason.
Now Hajoon was repaying him with puking on his lap. Shit. He couldnât even stop himself from getting sick again and again until his stomach was empty of last nightâs regrets.
And Jaehyeong was still staying next to him, having just turned both of them so Hajoon was throwing up over the side of the bed. He was even holding Hajoonâs hand. It was nice, except for the, you know, puking part.
When Hajoon looked down - after his stomach stopped turning itself out - he saw how much of a mess he had made. His head pounded.
âIâm so sorry, Jaehyeongâ, he sobbed, âIâm sorry, Iâll clean up.â
âHushâ, the maknae said and loudly called for the hyungs. Hajoon flinched, the sound seemingly shaking his brain in his skull. Jaehyeong apologized.
Dojoon and Woosung were still in their sleep clothes when they arrived. While Dojoon was in old sweatpants and a T-Shirt, Woosung was just in boxers. Their states, especially with the looks of shock on their faces, would have been funny if Hajoon didnât hate himself so much.
âOh, kiddoâ, Dojoon mumbled, still wide-eyed. But he came closer.
Woosung, always with a weak stomach, had turned pale and mumbled something about calling the manager as he fled the room.
âLeo, will you help Joon-ah get cleaned up? Iâll clean this upâ, Jaehyeong said and gestured to the puddle of sick all over the bed and floor. Hajoon whimpered and subconsciously clutched the maknaeâs hand tighter.
âI can clean upâ, Hajoon repeated. It was disgusting but he couldnât make the members to it for him.
âNonsenseâ, Dojoon said, âyou should get sorted out. Jeff, go with him.â
Was it just Hajoonâs imagination or did Dojoon sound short and angry? Well, he probably had wanted to sleep in, not clean up puke first thing in the morning.
ëìŽíŹ ì ììŽ sorry
ìŽêž°ì ìž ë I'm sorry
The bassist dragged Hajoon to the bathroom and helped him strip off his clothes, then pushed him towards the shower. âDo you need help? Are you dizzy or anything?â, Jaehyeong asked.
Hajoon shook his head. He wanted to be alone in his misery.
âHeadache?â, Jaehyeong asked and Hajoon shrugged.
âIâll leave you to shower. Call if you need help. Be careful.â
Hajoon was left alone.
I'm lonely
ëë§ íëĄ ëšêČšì§ ë°€
âI told the manager you have a migraine, Joon-ahâ, Woosung said, sitting on the bed by Hajoonâs hip. They had put Hajoon into Jaehyeongâs bed after the drummer had barely been able to keep standing between the headache, nausea and dizziness that might have been the result of a too hot shower. Hajoon had protested, not wanting to take Jaehyeongâs room but he had to admit that lying down in his own room reeking of vomit was not ideal.
The leader, while not good with bodily fluids, had not left Hajoonâs side since he had been returned to bed. Woosung didnât seem angry with him, which was what confused Hajoon. Shouldnât he be pissed that Hajoon got drunk and now they couldnât even do their jobs because of him? It was standard migraine protocol to not leave Hajoon alone â so after lying to the manager Woosung had stayed behind with him. He had not agreed to leave like last time. Why?
Why would Woosung lie to the manager for Hajoon? Shouldnât he use it as an example that Hajoon was unfit to be part of the group?
âCan we talk about why for fuckâs sake you got drunk so badly you are puking with a hangover? Or why you ran out of the practice room yesterday? Or anything thatâs happened? Hajoon, you are not yourself anymore. Why?â, Woosung asked.
âIâm sorry, Woosung-ssiâ, Hajoon whispered, ashamed, âIâll do better from now on.â
Thatâs what Woosung wanted to hear, right? He could do better until his contract was ended and somebody else took his spot.
âDonât shut yourself off, baby. Hajoon, sorry.â, Woosung replied, âWe want to help you. Let us in, please.â
It sounded like Woosung was pleading, was scared. That could not be right. Hajoon must still be drunk, unable to read the older man.
âIâve got itâ, Hajoon said.
He could do it on his own. No need to make the others help him end this. He was the problem. Not them.
I'm sorry
ê°ì§ë§ ìì§ë§ ë
Part 6: Alive
Masterlist links: Fairy's Full Masterlist Fairy's Masterlist - The Rose Â
#Hajoon series#Kpop#The rose#Hajoon#Hajoon centric#hurt/comfort#Songfic#Angst#Woosung#Dojoon#Jaehyeong#Feeling insecure#Insecure hajoon#Lee hajoon#Part 5/8#đč#đ#đ§đ»ââïž#sorry - the rose#songfic
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Guide (COMING SOON)
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#the rose#the rose imagine#the rose scenario#the rose x reader#the rose fluff#the rose angst#the rose smut#kim woosung#kim woosung x reader#kim woosung fluff#kim woosung angst#kim woosung smut#woosung#the rose woosung#park dojoon#park dojoon x reader#park dojoon fluff#park dojoon angst#park dojoon smut#dojoon#the rose dojoon#lee hajoon#lee hajoon x reader#lee hajoon angst#lee hajoon smut#lee hajoon fluff#hajoon#the rose hajoon#lee jaehyeong#lee jaehyeong x reader
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