selena ࣪𖤐.ᐟ @bubblyi3 - Tumblr Blog

Residuals PART 3 | JJK

"you were always the ‘what if’ in the back of his mind."

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: childhood best friends, lovers to enemies to strangers, fratboy!jungkook, heartbreak, uni!au

word count: 16.5k

content warning: angst, mild smut, mild languages

summary: jungkook used to be your everything. your best friend, your first love. but you both grew up and grew apart. he’s now the campus heartbreaker, a cocky frat boy who runs with the worst crowd. when a cruel dare asks him to destroy you just for the fun of it. everything shatters. trust. hearts. and maybe the chance to ever put it back together.

author's note: hiiiiii everyone!! so sorry it took forever to update, but the long awaited part 3 is finally here 🤍 TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED <3 there's so many of you on it... that’s insane :o anyways the angst still isn’t over 😭 but thank you so so much to everyone who’s been keeping up with this series (and my other stuff too) it honestly means the world to me :) ᶦᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵠᵘᶦⁿᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵃ ᵇᶦᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵗᵉⁿᵗᶦᵃˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʳᶦᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ… ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ

if there are any grammar mistakes, i apologise in advance 😅 anyways happy reading ✨ and pls do send me more of your thoughts and opinions 💭❤️ i love reading them and responding to you all 😊💬💖 :)))

PROLOGUE || PART 1 || PART 2

🏷️ taglist: @whoa-jo / @username23345 / @kelsyx33 / @toosweetforyall / @junniesoleilkth / @literallyjimin / @jeeykey / @stars4kooo / @delulutofr / @smoljimjim / @elithenium / @mysoulherofriend / @ukndtwme / @somehowukook / @songbyeonkim / @miakay98 / @sundains / @bjoriis / @kooever / @dragonflygurl4 / @labbbaaa / @cherricherryy / @jeongguks-posts / @rexana19 / @ppeachyttae / @ssbb-22 / @anydzia / @multifanbigbang / @fairyflorasworld / @miakay98 / @taetaecatboy / @mangify / @lachimolalajeon / @mikrokosmosellen / @blueberriesm / @aliceinthewornderland / @taebreezs / @yunhoswrldddd / @ayecannot / @aestheticalime / @llallaaa / @softchannie / @nikilig / @amarawayne / @vinylphwoar / @gizaspicebag / @jkwritez / @prettyjmsworld / @00frenchfries00 / @ennvfv / @bhonbhon / @kissyfacekoo / @alextgef / @zorj4yrk / @roguesthetic / @avawants2havefun / @hoelychildofgod

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] His fingers closed around the cold neck of a beer bottle that someone handed him. It was a simple gesture, but one that anchored him to the moment, and made him feel a little least invisible. The condensation slipped down onto his skin, grounding him in something real, something physical, while his mind buzzed with everything he was trying to ignore. You.

Jungkook could feel the bass thumping through the floor, see the blur of bodies moving in and out of the living room, the warmth of alcohol loosening conversations around him that he wasn’t really part of. He wasn’t sure why he came tonight. But Jimin had insisted he should come and meet the guys.

From his perspective, if a friend group had a label, Kim Namjoon would be the leader. The young man looked steady, observant, and he was instinctively respected by everyone, without him ever needing to say much. Namjoon leaned forward from where he sat on the armrest of the couch, eyes settling on Jungkook. “So, what are you studying man?”

Jungkook blinked, startled by the sudden question, then gave a small shrug. “Majoring in film production.”

Namjoon’s face lit up with an easy approval. “That’s awesome, man. Are you looking to direct in the future or…?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jungkook said, settling down the beer bottle on the small coffee table in front. “Something behind the camera, maybe. Cinematography, editing. I like building things from the background.”

There was a pause. A small, knowing hum from Namjoon.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You seem like someone who notices the details. The stuff most people miss. That’s what makes films good, y’know?”

Jungkook didn’t respond right away. He wasn’t used to being seen like that. Especially not by someone he barely knew. His default was to shrink back, to play it cool. But there was something disarming about Namjoon’s tone. Like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and that’s something Jungkook secretly envied.

Jungkook murmured a soft 'Thanks,' his fingers brushing the bottle on the table before he took a slow sip. The taste was sharp, almost sour, but it was enough to ground him, distracting from the tightness in his chest.

Across the room, someone laughed too loudly, and another song took over the playlist, its bass vibrating through the floor. For a moment, Jungkook let the noise wash over him, pretending things were simpler than they were. Pretending he didn’t feel like he was being pulled in two directions. He cares about you… he really does. That was never in question. But sometimes, that care felt more like a duty than a choice. That care came layered with so many expectations. From his parents, from yours, from everyone who ever saw you two side by side and assumed it was only a matter of time. As if love was something that came with a checklist.

And then there was everything else. The uni experience, the friends, the freedom, the girls, the version of himself he hadn’t fully lived yet. The late nights, the recklessness, the adrenaline of being young and answerable to no one. He knew he was supposed to be better than that, but part of him craved the chaos.

You made him better, and that terrifies him. Because you also made him vulnerable. And no one else could touch that soft, exposed part of him… not even himself. And then just as if Jungkook knew that the silence was a bit obvious now and how he lost he was in his own thoughts. He gave a small shake of his head and turned to Namjoon.

“How about you?” Jungkook asked, more to fill the space than from any real curiosity.

Namjoon smiled, tipping his bottle toward Jungkook before answering. “In my third year in Psych. Planning to go into counseling eventually. I wanna help people figure out their mess.”

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “That’s heavy.”

"Yeah," Namjoon agreed, leaning back. "But I think it’s kind of worth it... Humans are so complex, you know? It’s fascinating, and then there are moments where it’s just like, 'What the fuck?'"

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was brief, the atmosphere shifting again as if someone had flipped a switch. Another guy, grinning just across from Jungkook, jerked his chin toward the girl Taehyung had just been making out with. “Yo, ever fucked someone that hot before?” At that moment, Jungkook's surroundings started becoming clearler as Namjoon wasn’t the only person keeping him company, there were others. Observing and listening.

The room erupted in hoots, whistles, laughter that felt sharp around the edges.

Jungkook froze. The question landed like a punch he hadn’t braced for. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Until Jimin, quick and composed, stepped in. “Hey, JK’s got a girl, alright?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise.

All eyes turned to Jungkook.

He swallowed and forced a steady breath. “Yeah. Y/n. She’s my childhood bestfriend. She also studies here… we’re not together or anything. But I care about her. A lot.”

The room slightly quited as if they hadn’t expected the sincerity. Jimin gave him a short nod, one that said I’ve got your back, even if his eyes flickered with something else. Guilt, maybe. Or something close to it.

Hoseok, ever the provocateur, smirked from the couch and nudged him. “So... is she hot?”

Jungkook blinked, a little thrown by the pivot, but answered without hesitation. “She’s more than that. She’s beautiful. Inside and out.”

One of the guys exchanged a look with another, like maybe Jungkook had missed the tone of the conversation. But Jimin’s expression shifted. It was less teasing now, more proud. Like he didn’t expext Jungkook to say it, but was glad he did.

“That’s actually kinda cute,” Yoongi laughed, shaking their head.

“Yeah, man,” Jin chimed in, grinning. “You’ve got it easy. A childhood bestfriend and a girlfriend if you ever feel like calling it that. Built-in relationship… practically arranged marriage, huh?”

The guys laughed, but the comment hit something deeper in Jungkook. Because it wasn’t far off.

He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but suddenly he was back in his hallway, no older than thirteen, pausing at the corner when he heard both your mums talking in the living room. The door was slightly ajar, the warm hum of their voices drifting out with the smell of dinner.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if they ended up together?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it more than once. They’re so close already. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“They balance each other out. Jungkook’s a little wild, and Y/n grounds him. And she lights up whenever he’s around.”

He hadn’t known what to make of it back then. Just flushed, embarrassed, unsure if it was something he was supposed to want too. And now, years later, it lingered in the back of his mind like a ghost that never really left.

Namjoon leaned in again, but his voice had changed. No longer friendly, but testing. “That is cute. But if you’re thinking of hanging with us more, man… might wanna rethink that. With us? Girls are just noise. Drama. Mind games.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. He looked down at his beer for a second before shaking his head, calm but firm. “Y/n’s not like that. I trust her.”

Jimin gave him a quiet, approving smile. But Jungkook caught the way his eyes dropped after, guilt shadowing them like a secret not yet confessed.

Namjoon raised his bottle, tilting it slightly with a smirk. “It’s bros before hoes around here, like it or not.”

The words hit the room like a dare. Everyone exchanged grins, waiting to see if Jungkook would fall in line.

Hoseok leaned, his tone slick and easy. “Think about it, man. Why get tied down? Girls are just trouble. They’re clingy, insecure, cheating messes. We’ve all been burned. It’s easier when it’s just casual, no mess, no strings.”

Jungkook glanced around the circle of grins, half-baked wisdom, and barely concealed resentment.

“Alright, JK… why don’t you bring her around?” Namjoon said, gesturing to the group. “We wanna see what all the fuss is about.”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away.

There was a pause. Just a few seconds too long. The kind that made it obvious he was thinking too hard. His fingers curled tighter around the bottle again, knuckles whitening ever so slightly. He could still hear the music, the bass thrumming beneath his feet like a heartbeat he couldn’t shut out. But it all felt distant now. Muted.

Bring you around?

It should’ve been a simple request. Hell, if this were any other moment, any other group, he might’ve said sure and left it at that. You would’ve smiled at them, probably brought a snack to share, maybe even teased Jungkook in front of them and made it all feel easy.

But this didn’t feel easy.

But then, just as quickly, the version of himself that always felt like he had something to prove kicked in. The part that hated silence more than confrontation. The part that didn’t want to seem like he had anything to hide.

So Jungkook exhaled through his nose, forced his jaw to unclench, and gave a small shrug. “Sure,” he said, with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jungkook stayed frozen on the edge of his bed for a long while, phone still glowing in his palm, the words from the group chat staring back at him like vultures circling.

His thumb hovered over the keyboard. The urge to shut it all down, to tell them to fuck off, to admit that this wasn’t just a game, was strong. A flicker of something real sparked deep in his chest.

But just as fast, his pride doused it.

Because the moment he admitted that the kiss meant something… that you still meant something… was the moment he handed them power. Gave them reason to question him. And he couldn’t afford that. Not when everything about his place in that group, hinged on keeping up the version of himself they expected.

The unshakable, unbothered golden boy. Wasn’t this what he wanted? To feel free? To dive into the party life, the girls, the games? To never be tied down by anyone or anything, to live on his terms without the weight of expectations or the messy emotions that came with real connections?

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat and leaned back, tossing his phone on the mattress like it burned him. He stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.

You were different now. Stronger. Softer in ways that made his chest ache and harder in ways that reminded him he couldn’t reach you like he used to.

And yet, despite the distance and time, you still let him in. You still kissed him back. It felt hesitant, unsure... but you did.

Was that love?

Or just muscle memory?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Not when it complicated everything.

He wasn’t ready for complicated. He wasn’t ready for you.

What he was ready for was the game. The one they all expected him to win. The one he said he didn’t care about, but still hadn’t walked away from.

So, he grabbed his phone again, shaking off the urge to just ignore the chat entirely.

Jungkook typed slowly, carefully choosing his words.

[Jungkook]: She kissed me back. Easy.

He hit send. Delivered. Read.

A fresh wave of messages followed. Laughing emojis. Shit talk. Praise. Hoseok even dropped a gif of someone fake bowing in admiration. And Jungkook laid there, letting it all wash over him, blank-faced.

The truth was, it wasn’t easy.

It felt like shit.

But none of them needed to know that.

This version of Jungkook. Frat Jungkook, ego Jungkook. He was untouchable. Confident. Cruel, if he had to be. And for now, he had to be.

Because if he stopped and let the real Jungkook through. The one who still remembered your favorite snack, the one who used to race you home from school just to see you smile when he let you win. The one who you've seen cried at the end of sad movies. He’d break.

And breaking was not an option.

He got up, stripped off his hoodie, and headed to the bathroom, trying to shake the feel of your lips from his skin, like maybe a cold splash of water could cleanse him of the guilt.

But it clung to him. Silent. Invisible.

That kiss had felt like something.

But tonight, he’d pretend it wasn’t.

And tomorrow, he’d keep playing the part. Because his pride still mattered more than the truth.

And his ego?

Still louder than his heart.

The days crept by, and Jungkook still had no idea how the hell he was supposed to fix what he broke. Whatever this had become. How to get you back on his radar, to look you in the eyes again without feeling like a stranger in a place that once felt like home. It wasn't just miscommunication or time apart. It wasn't subtle. Not a flinch or a misread. It was because he crossed a line.

A line that had always been blurry between you two, but still unspoken. At the night he kissed you, everything changed.

He knew why you were avoiding him. And you were good at it, too.

He’d catch glimpses of you through your bedroom window, hear your footsteps upstairs when he stopped by with his parents for dinner or a chat. But you always found a way to slip out of reach. Like tonight, Jungkook had come over with his parents. The kind of casual weeknight dinner that used to mean movie nights, teasing over who got the last piece of chicken, and you curled up next to him on the couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And your mum who's always composed and always warm, placed a dish on the dining table with that same practiced smile. "Y/n had an early dinner. She's in her room studying… or doing God knows what."

"Or sleeping," your dad added, chuckling softly as he poured himself a drink.

Jungkook had forced a smile. He didn’t say what he was thinking, that he knew you weren’t sleeping. That he’d heard your desk chair scrape against the floor a few minutes ago from upstairs or some faint mumbling going on behind your door.

Anyways it was clear to Jungkook you were avoiding him... not dinner, not studying.

“Kook, did your mum mention anything about Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party at the community hall?” your mum asked casually, reaching across to top up the banchan.

“Oh! That totally slipped my mind,” his mum said, letting out a soft laugh as she covered her mouth, still chewing on a bite of japchae.

Jungkook blinked. “Mrs. Kwon?” he repeated, brow slightly furrowed. He glanced at his own mum beside him, who gave a small nod as she sipped her tea.

But then it clicked.

Oh.

Mrs. Kwon.

His eyes softened with recognition.

She was you and Jungkook's old elementary school teacher. The one who used to call you two the twins even though you looked nothing alike. Who would jokingly separate your seats because “one giggle from her and you’re both done for.” The same Mrs. Kwon who became a close friend to both your mums after you graduated.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, letting the memory settle. “She’s retiring?” he asked, still surprised. “Isn’t she still pretty young?”

His dad gave a small smile. “She is. But I think she just wants more time for herself. Travel, pottery classes, yoga retreats. She said she’s done wrangling kids and chalk dust.”

“Honestly,” your dad added with a laugh from the other end of the room, “she’s earned it. Thirty years of dealing with other people’s kids? I would’ve retired ten years ago.”

Jungkook shook his head with a grin. “Man. It's been so long. Those were the good old days.”

Your mum’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary. “You know she still asks about you and Y/n."

Jungkook froze for half a beat, then glanced toward the staircase.

His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Yeah?”

“She’s always had a soft spot for the both of you,” his mum said. “Said it was nice, watching two kids grow up so close.”

Jungkook didn’t reply right away.

Just traced his thumb over the edge of his glass and let the quiet speak.

“So, about the retirement party,” your mum began, glancing between Jungkook and everyone else at the table. “It’d be great if you and Y/n could run a few errands this Friday. Pick up some things from the list, decorations, maybe a cake or even a gift from both of you.”

“Don’t worry too much about the food,” she added. “Your mum and I have that covered.”

“As for the invitations,” his mum chimed in, gesturing with her chopsticks, “We’ll leave that to the old men. Your dad and Y/n’s. They’ll take care of getting the word out. Just make sure we invite as many locals as we can... anyone who knew Mrs. Kwon.”

Jungkook, quietly sipping his soup, hummed in response.

“Would you be alright to help, Jungkook?” your mum asked, turning to him. “Or will you be too caught up with uni work?”

He paused, lowering his spoon.

Technically, yes. He had a deadline this week for a film analysis report in which he yet needed to finish. But this? This was an opportunity. He wasn’t dumb. This was the perfect excuse to pull you out of your room… and into his space.

Driving around together. Picking out party supplies. Arguing over whether to go with a chocolate cake or something fancier. A chance to chip away at whatever wall you were building, without making it obvious he cared enough to try.

“Actually,” he added, more confidently now, “it sounds like a good way to take a break from studying.... I’m keen.”

There was a beat of silence, then your mum gave a pleased smile and nodded. "I'll let Y/n know."

And Jungkook just nodded back, reaching for his glass of water, fingers curling gently around it as if grounding himself.

He didn’t let his face show anything. But his heart?

It was already upstairs.

Waiting. Wondering that maybe somewhere, buried beneath the silence and space. He was still in there. In your heart. Even if you didn’t know what to do with him anymore.

It was now the first Thursday of the semester break, and you still had another full week before uni started up again. A whole week left to keep avoiding him, to sit with your feelings.

You’d tried everything to stay distracted. Kept your head down, nose buried in business assignments. You were now halfway through your marketing research paper. Highlighting sentences you’d probably have to reread anyway. You have even reorganized your folders and colour-coded your calendar. Just for the illusion of control.

You knew Jungkook had come over for dinner with his parents last night. You'd made sure to eat something earlier to avoid being tempted. But as the evening wore on, the delicious smell of your mom’s cooking wafted upstairs, and your stomach betrayed you. Reminding you just how hungry you actually were.

Still, you stayed put. Ear pressed half-heartedly to your pillow, mind tuned in to every laugh from downstairs, every familiar voice drifting through the walls. It felt wrong, this strange game of hide-and-seek in your own house. But you couldn’t bring yourself to face him.

You tried to ignore it, pushing the hunger aside as you waited for him and his parents to leave. The moment the front door clicked shut and silence settled again, you crept out of your room and rushed downstairs to raid the kitchen for leftovers.

Ever since that kiss, Jungkook's been louder than usual. Some nights his music blares through the walls, followed by bursts of laughter at whatever he's watching. You've laid in bed more than once thinking, What the hell is he on?

You wanted to text him, Tell him to keep it down.

But no. You're not going to be the first to cave.

You'd rather call noise control than send him a message.

Which brings you to now. Sitting in front of your laptop, and on the other end of the video call, Hana’s jaw drops, eyes bulging in disbelief.

“He did what now?!” she nearly shrieks, sloshing her drink dangerously close to the edge.

You flinch. “Shhh!” you hiss, immediately glancing toward your door. The last thing you needed was your parents overhearing this conversation.

Without another word, you slip up from your chair and quietly close the door, pressing it shut like sealing off a secret.

“Hana, seriously, keep your voice down.”

“No, because what the actual fuck,” she fires back, already too far gone. “Jungkook kissed you? Your Jungkook? The same one who’s been acting like you don’t exist and probably collecting STDs like Pokémon cards?”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Can you not call him ‘my Jungkook’? He’s not my anything.”

Hana narrows her eyes at you. “Oh no. Don’t do that thing where you downplay it. Start talking. How, when, where?”

You sigh, defeated. “It was after my Halmoni’s house. He drove me home. We barely said a word the whole ride, and then he just pulled over. No warning. Just looked at me like… like he didn’t know who I was, or maybe he did and hated it. Then he kissed me.”

There’s a long pause on the other end of the call. Hana blinks, “And?”

“And I kissed him back. For a second.” You exhale, voice small. “I let it happen. I don’t even know why. Then I snapped out of it and told him he doesn’t get to do that. He dropped me home and left.”

Hana stares. “You’re telling me that the human disaster who ghosted you on your birthday, humiliated you in front of his dumbass frat friends, and ignored you for months just waltzed back into your life and kissed you like nothing happened?”

You shrug, half-hearted. "Yeah. Pretty much."

Hana leans in closer to the camera, her eyes narrowed. "Okay, this guy does not get to make you his unfinished business."

You blink. "I know."

She raises a finger, like she’s about to drop some serious wisdom. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You almost laugh, but the sound gets stuck in your throat. "You think he's playing me? I mean, since we’ve been home for the break, I’ve pretty much got the upper hand. I could literally tell his parents what kind of influence he’s been hanging around."

Hana’s eyes widen. "Ohhh, you wouldn’t."

"Maybe… maybe not," you reply with a shrug.

There’s a beat of silence between you, the soft hum of your laptop fan filling the void as your gaze shifts to your untouched research paper. On the other end of the screen, Hana is now sprawled out on her bed, her laptop teetering on her knees, a look of pure academic defeat on her face.

“Honestly,” she sighs, shoving her hair into a messy bun, “I need a break from these goddamn business papers. If I have to reference Porter’s Five Forces one more time, I’ll commit an actual crime.”

You snort. “Same. I opened a blank doc and somehow ended up trauma-dumping instead of writing anything useful.”

“Valid,” she says with a lazy nod, sipping from her chipped mug. Then her expression shifts as something sparks in her mind. “Oh! Omg, I almost forgot to tell you. I saw freaking Park Jimin at the gym yesterday.”

You blink, confused for a second. “Wait, Park Jimin as in Jungkook’s Jimin?”

“Yes!” she grins. “Like, actual golden-boy, smile-that-could-end-wars, Park Jimin.”

You sit up a little straighter, curiosity piqued.

“He is so hot. Obviously. But also... surprisingly nice? Like, I was lowkey panicking because I dropped my drink bottle and it rolled across the floor, and he actually walked over and picked it up for me.”

“Classic Jimin,” you murmur, the corner of your mouth lifting.

Because out of all the frat guys Jungkook had introduced you to that night. Jimin was the only one who hadn’t treated you like a punchline or some extension of Jungkook’s ego. No sideways smirks. No stupid comments. Just a small bow, a kind smile, and genuine conversation about your classes. It had surprised you then, and stuck with you.

Hana raises a brow. “Wait, you’ve met him before, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, voice softer now. “He was actually the only one who wasn’t a total ass.”

Hana hums thoughtfully, picking up on the subtle shift in your tone. “Then why’s he even hanging out with them?”

You pause, eyes flicking back to your laptop screen before forcing a breath through your nose. “Doesn’t matter,” you say, a little sharper now. “Hot or nice doesn’t mean anything.”

You sit up straighter, like you're brushing it all off. “You know that saying.... ‘birds of a feather flock together’?”

Hana nods slowly on the other end.

“Yeah, well... if Jungkook’s an asshole, then deep down Jimin is too. They all are. That’s the company they keep.”

A silence settles after your last words, the kind that isn't uncomfortable, just weighted. Like both of you know there's more underneath, but neither of you wants to touch it.

The gentle whir of your laptop fan fills the space again, joined now by the faint golden light bleeding in from the window beside you. It's warmer than before, softer. You blink and glance at the clock in the corner of your screen. 4:27 PM.

You rub your eyes, surprised. “Wait… have we seriously been on this call since, like 11 AM?”

Hana glances at her own clock and groans. “Holy shit. We’re disgusting.”

You both laugh, and for a moment, things feel lighter again.

“I haven’t even eaten a proper meal today,” you mutter, stretching your arms above your head. Your shoulders crack in protest. “I think I’ve fully fused into this chair.”

“Girl, go feed yourself,” Hana snorts. “I think my spine’s permanently curved from sitting like a shrimp.”

You smile, the tension from earlier finally easing. “Alright, I’m logging off. Let’s pretend we were productive.”

“We were productive. Emotionally,” she smirks.

You shake your head, fondness curling at the edges of your chest. “Talk later?”

“Always.”

The call ends with a soft click, the screen blinking back to your cluttered desktop. But without Hana’s voice, the room feels a little too quiet, a little too still.

You lean back in your chair, exhaling deeply.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about Jimin again. And then, inevitably, about Jungkook.

But you don’t go there.

You get up instead, heading downstairs for the kitchen, telling yourself it’s just hunger. Not the ache of things left unsaid.

As you finally made your way downstairs, the warmth of home greeted you, mingled with the faint scent of jasmine perfume and musky cologne lingering subtly in the air. Your eyes caught your dad lounging on the couch, half-watching one of his usual TV shows, while your mum was at the dining table, carefully putting away plates and cutlery like she was trying not to make a sound.

Her eyes lit up when she saw you. “Oh, there she is! Finally out of her cave,” your dad teased with a grin, not even looking away from the screen.

You blinked for a moment, slightly taken aback. It wasn’t the joke that caught you off guard, but how put-together both your parents looked. Your mum, usually in house slippers and a robe by this hour, was wearing pressed dress pants, a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly at the waist, and just a hint of makeup that brightened her face.

Your dad of all people, had actually combed his hair, swapped his usual tee for a button-up, and even wore cologne. For someone supposedly just relaxing at home, it all felt... suspiciously polished.

“Y/n, I saved some dinner for you,” your mum said sweetly, motioning toward the covered dishes on the bench. “Made your favorites.”

“Oh... you guys already ate?” you asked, glancing at the untouched place settings.

“Well, not exactly,” she replied, a spark in her tone. “Your dad and I are heading out in a bit. Double date with Jungkook’s parents. We’re going to that comedy night in town.”

“Wow,” you said, raising a brow. “And no invite for me?”

Your dad chuckled, finally turning off the TV and rising from the couch to grab his coat. “We figured you’d be buried under uni work, and honestly... we booked the tickets ages ago."

“Next time, okay?” your mum added gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a soft kiss to your temple before moving past you.

As your dad pocketed the car keys and straightened his jacket, he gave you a small wave. “Don’t wait up. We won’t be too long.”

You gave a half-smile, returning the wave. “Alright, have fun. And don’t go too crazy.”

They both laughed lightly before heading to the door. Just as your mum reached for the handle, she turned back casually, as if it were an afterthought.

“Oh, and before I forget,” she said. “Jungkook will be coming over soon to keep you company. I asked him to swing by so you two can catch up. I was also hoping you could make time to run a few errands with him tomorrow morning. Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party is this Saturday, and we need a few things picked up. Decorations, cake, a few bits and bobs. It’d be a big help.”

You froze slightly, the mention of his name shifting something in your chest. Your expression faltered for a second, but your mum had already turned away, smiling as she stepped out the door.

“Be nice,” she added with a wink, then closed it behind her. Leaving you alone in the silence of the hallway... with the unwanted thought of the one person you hadn’t planned on seeing.

Once the door shut, the house settled into a stillness that felt louder than it should have. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, shoulders sinking slightly as you turned away from the entryway.

With nothing better to do and your stomach reminding you that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, you padded toward the kitchen and lifted the food cover your mum had mentioned. The sight alone made your stomach flutter with anticipation. Steaming rice, glistening teriyaki chicken, and a generous serving of cheesy tteokbokki on the side, the melted mozzarella still holding some stretch. Hell yes!

You sat at the table and ate in comfortable silence, demolishing the entire plate without pause. It tasted like everything you've been craving.

After cleaning up and washing the dishes, you wandered back toward the stairs, but instead of heading straight up, your eyes flicked toward the mirror in the hallway. You looked… okay. Still in your oversized hoodie and sweats, hair in a loose bun. It was comfortable, sure, but suddenly, you found yourself hesitating.

It’s just Jungkook, you told yourself. Why the hell did it matter?

But your feet were already carrying you upstairs. Within minutes, you changed into something a little more presentable. A soft-knit top and loose black pants. Hair down. A swipe of lip balm. You hated how subconscious it made you feel.

You made your way back down, trying not to think too much about it, and collapsed onto the couch. The quiet hum of a random drama played in the background, but your attention was fractured. You glanced at your phone. The screen lit up. No new messages. Not even a quick “on my way.”

Why would you even expect that? This wasn’t the Jungkook who used to spam you with dumb selfies and memes when he was two minutes late. This was the new Jungkook. The distant one. The one who became someone else.

You found yourself walking toward the front window anyway.

From the living room, the view into Jungkook’s place was partially blocked by the hedges, but you could still make out the soft golden lights inside. No signs of him stepping out. You watched for a moment longer than you wanted to, then sighed and backed away, arms folded across your chest.

Time passed. You checked your phone again. Somehow, over an hour and a half had slipped by. You were now lying sideways on the couch, the show long forgotten in the background, the half-watched episode just white noise to your thoughts, and you had slowly dozed off. Your eyes slowly closing.

And then... the sound of the doorbell snapped you upright.

Your heart did something strange. You blinked, disoriented by how fast your body reacted.

You sat frozen for a moment, just staring toward the door.

It was him. It had to be.

You swallowed, then slowly got up, smoothing the creases from your pants with clammy palms. And as you made your way toward the front door, every step was a quiet reminder.

It’s just Jungkook.

It’s just Jungkook. So why did it feel like anything but? Hana’s words looped in your mind, her voice sharp and warning. "You’ve got to be careful with whatever Jungkook’s playing at."

You swallowed, knowing she was right. Though you're still the Y/n that Jungkook grew up with since diapers. You were never blind. You knew how to read between the lines. You weren't naive. So if Jungkook was playing whatever game this was, whether it was guilt, avoidance, or something more complicated. Then two could play at that game. But could you? Could you keep up if his presence was exactly what you wanted?

The thought made your grip tighten on the door handle as you pulled it open slowly. You’d expected… something colder. A distant nod, a mumbled hey, maybe that faraway look he’s been wearing. The one that made it seem like he was always halfway somewhere else, even when standing right in front of you.

But instead you've met with something entirely different.

“Sorry for the wait,” Jungkook said, his voice light, almost too casual. He held up two steaming boxes of pizza in one hand and a cold bottle of Coke Zero in the other, like some peace offering wrapped in garlic crust and carbonated bubbles.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

There he was. Bathed in the warm hue of the porch light, eyes bright, skin soft and golden like he’d just stepped out of a memory. His hair was tousled like he’d run his fingers through it on the way over, and he wore one of those effortlessly oversized hoodies paired with gray sweats that somehow made existing look like an aesthetic. He looked like comfort. Like the version of him you hadn’t seen in far too long.

And he was smiling. That familiar smile, lazy and warm. A little crooked at the corners. The lip ring he wears now was gone, and your gaze faltered for a beat too long at his mouth. Those lips. The ones that were on yours days ago. However, the Jungkook that is now standing before you felt real, warm and familiar. Not the stranger from the frat parties, not the guy who never texted back.

You folded your arms instinctively, a half-hearted shield. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, tone cooler than you meant. “I can look after myself, you know.”

Jungkook tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes, but you kept them trained elsewhere. On the bottle of soda, the floor, anywhere but his face.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “but where’s the fun in that?” There was a beat, a pause in his voice. Then, a little quieter, “And… I wanted to. Plus, we should probably talk. About… you know. That night.”

Before you could respond, he stepped inside, breezing past you like muscle memory, like he hadn’t spent the last few months being emotionally MIA. He handed you the chilled Coke, the condensation cool against your palms, then toed off his shoes and headed straight for the living room.

He placed the pizza boxes gently on the coffee table, like it was any other night. And you stood there in the doorway for just a second longer, your heart a little too loud, your mind a little too full. Because the one thing you weren’t ready for was the version of him that actually looked like he cared.

Jungkook glanced at the TV, the flickering light reflecting in his eyes. "Wait... is this Never Have I Ever?"

You gave a small shrug, still standing with the bottle of Coke in hand. “Yeah. I rewatch it when I don’t know what else to put on.”

He gave you a knowing look. “Classic comfort show. Still team Paxton?"

"Always," you muttered under you breath, trying not to smile.

Jungkook chuckled and settled on the floor in front of the coffee table, already lifting the lids off both pizza boxes. The warm, cheesy scent hit the air instantly. Garlicky, spicy, a little sweet. It filled the room like nostalgia.

“Come on,” he said, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “You’re not gonna make me eat all this alone, are you?”

You sighed like it was a hassle, but your body was already moving toward him. “You’re lucky it smells good,” you muttered, placing the Coke bottle on the table before heading to the kitchen cupboard.

He made a satisfied little sound as he picked up a slice, steam still curling from the crust. “Mmm... this is so hot,” he said through a mouthful, not even trying to be graceful.

You grabbed two cups and returned, lowering yourself onto the floor beside him. Well, not beside him. You gave yourself some breathing room, settling cross-legged just far enough away that your knees wouldn’t accidentally bump. The space felt necessary, like an invisible boundary you weren’t ready to cross.

Jungkook didn’t seem to mind. He was already flicking through Netflix titles with the remote, chewing like a man who hadn’t eaten all day.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, eyes still on the screen.

“I actually had dinner not too long ago,” you replied, pouring the Coke into the glasses. “Mum made teriyaki chicken and cheesy tteokbokki.”

He paused and looked over at you with mock betrayal. “Without me?”

"Well sorry but I'm actually her daughter. My mum doesn't need to feed for two kids."

“Tch.” He shook his head. “That’s cold, Y/n. Real cold.”

You handed him a glass and picked up a slice for yourself. “Relax. I can still manage two or three slices. It’s pizza... we make room.”

“That’s the one,” he said, raising his glass like a toast.

You clinked your glass gently against his without thinking, then took a sip.

For a few quiet minutes, the only sounds were the soft hum of the TV, the crinkle of pizza crust, and the shared silence between two people trying not to say everything they were actually thinking.

And as Jungkook scrolled aimlessly through the movie options, mumbling indecisively about rom-coms versus thrillers, you wondered if he was stalling. If maybe, like you, he didn’t want to rush into talking about that night.

Not yet.

Jungkook finally stopped scrolling, landing on some flashy action flick with explosions, car chases, and intense background music already playing in the trailer.

“Ooh,” he said, eyes lighting up. “This one’s got Michael B. Jordan. Heard it’s sick.”

You glanced at the title, fighting the urge to protest. Action wasn’t exactly your go-to, but… Michael B. Jordan was in it. And you weren’t in the mood to start a debate.

“Fine,” you said, biting into another slice. “But only because of him.”

Jungkook smirked knowingly as he hit play. “I mean, who doesn’t have a crush on him?”

You let out a small laugh. “Exactly."

The movie started, the opening scene loud and dramatic, but your focus drifted in and out. Not because it wasn’t good. But because sitting this close to Jungkook again after all that time was... disorienting. The space between you two felt physically small, but emotionally stretched. Like everything that hadn’t been said was sitting in that gap between you, unspoken and waiting.

As the movie played, the two of you exchanged casual commentary. Snarky one-liners, shared reactions when a twist hit, small laughs that softened the air.

“Okay, that was cool,” you muttered after one particularly clean fight sequence.

Jungkook nodded, mouth full of crust. “Right? The stunt work in this is crazy.”

You didn’t look at him when you spoke, and yet you could feel his presence beside you so acutely. It was like your body remembered this closeness even when your brain tried to play it off.

And what you didn’t notice or pretended not to, was how Jungkook kept sneaking glances your way.

They were brief. Almost too quick to catch. The kind of glances that happened in the in-between moments. When you laughed at something on screen, when you reached for another slice, when you tucked your hair behind your ear like you always used to do.

He looked at you like he was trying to memorize something.

Like he missed something.

Like maybe he was finally realizing just how long it had been.

But when you turned your head even slightly, he always looked away. Back to the movie, back to the screen, as if it hadn’t happened at all.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position and curling one leg under the other, hugging your knees loosely to your chest. The buzz of the action scene played on, but your mind kept drifting to the closeness, to the way his knee occasionally brushed yours when he moved. Not intentional but not avoided either.

It was almost funny. How the two of you could sit there and pretend to be casual. Like your friendship hadn’t changed at all.

You reached for your Coke, taking a sip, eyes still on the screen.

And beside you, Jungkook smiled to himself. Not because of the movie.

But because you were still here.

And for once. Subconsciously, the bet was at the back of his mind.

The movie was still playing, but neither of you were really following it anymore. The sound of distant gunfire and dramatic dialogue had faded into background noise. Your half-finished glass of Coke sat forgotten on the coffee table, and the warmth of the pizza had long settled in your stomach.

Jungkook shifted beside you, just enough for you to notice.

And then, without looking directly at you, he murmured, “We should probably talk about it.”

You didn’t need to ask what it was. You already knew.

The silence stretched for a second. Maybe two.

Your stomach tightened, and instinctively, you looked away, pretending to focus on the screen. But nothing about the movie held your attention anymore. You drew in a slow breath, steadying yourself.

“Okay... let's talk,” you said, even though you didn’t need to say it out loud.

Jungkook finally turned to face you. His jaw was tense, his brows drawn together in that way they always were when he was working up the nerve to be honest.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That night. After Halmeoni.”

There was no hiding the shift in the room. The mood. The weight of memory.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he added, voice tight with regret. “Not when everything was so raw. Not when I didn’t even know what it meant for me yet.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your pants. “Yeah. You shouldn’t have.”

The words were sharper than you intended, but not untrue. That kiss had thrown you off balance. Stunned and shocked in a way you hadn't expected. Deep down, you thought he’d say something, explain himself. Instead, after you pulled away first, still trying to make sense of it all, you told him to just drive you home. And once you arrived, he handed you the keys without a word and walked back to his house, leaving you standing alone in the quiet aftermath.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped slightly. “I didn’t mean to mess things up between us.”

“You did, though.”

He looked down, jaw tightening. “I know.”

You sighed, the fight leaving your voice. “I get it, Jungkook. Things have been different. You’re at uni, trying to find your people. Make your own life. You don’t owe me anything.”

He looked up at you then, fast. “But I do. I do owe you something. I owe you more than disappearing on you like that. I owe you the truth.”

You stared at him, letting him speak this time.

“I’ve been acting like I don’t care. But I do. So much,” he said, voice low, shaking slightly with the weight of the admission. “Yes... I’ve been trying to fit in. Trying to keep up with everyone and everything. The guys I hang with, the late nights, the drinking, the parties... I thought if I threw myself into it hard enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about all the things I left behind.”

Your chest ached, but you said nothing.

He leaned forward now, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared down at the floor. “But I still think about you. Even when I don’t message. Even when I pretend not to notice you walking past me on campus. I still care, Y/n. That hasn’t changed.”

You swallowed hard, blinking quickly, your voice soft but steady. “Then why did it feel like I was the only one who did?”

Jungkook looked at you then and it was different. Not the careless glances from across campus corridors. Not the soft stares during movie nights when you were younger. But something that cracked him open just enough for you to see inside.

“I didn’t know how to be both,” he said. “The guy trying to figure out who he is... and the guy who still carries you with him everywhere.”

The room felt so quiet now.

Just the two of you and everything unsaid slowly unraveling between the lines.

Jungkook exhaled, slow and deliberate, like the next words took everything in him to form.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. For everything. For pulling away. For confusing you. For not being the friend you deserved. I know I can’t take it back, but…” He paused, eyes locking with yours. “Can you forgive me?”

The question hung in the air, still and fragile.

Your heart tightened painfully, but you carefully masked it, refusing to let it show. And damn, this was exactly what you’d feared. No matter how much you convinced yourself you could stand your ground, Jungkook’s vulnerability cut straight through you.

“Jungkook,” you said, voice quiet but unwavering, “you can’t just come back with two boxes of pizza, flash that smile, and ask for forgiveness like nothing happened.”

He flinched, just slightly. But he nodded. “I know. I get it.”

You sat up straighter, meeting him head-on. “You hurt me. You ignored me. You forgot my damn birthday. Like it didn't matter. Like I didn't."

Sure, missing a birthday isn’t the end of the world. People forget things all the time. But this was different. This was part of the childhood you and Jungkook shared. The small moments that built everything between you. A milestone marking another year of growing up, side by side.

So yeah, him missing your twenty-first birthday was a big deal. A fucking big deal. So screw him.

Jungkook's expression cracked. Just a flicker of guilt and recognition before he dropped his gaze. “You’re right,” he murmured.

“I’m not going to forgive you just like that. You have to earn it,” you said, voice soft but firm. “I’m not going to pretend the past few months didn’t happen. I’m not going to pretend you didn’t change.”

He looked at you again, and this time, something steadier lived behind his eyes. “Then let me try. I don’t want to lose you completely.”

You opened your mouth, unsure what to say, but he cut in gently.

“Maybe we can’t go back to the way things were. Maybe we shouldn’t,” he said, shoulders relaxing slightly. “But what if we start again? Still be friends, but… not like before. No pretending. No lies. Just… moving forward. Together. Making new memories that don’t feel so heavy.”

You stared at him, a swirl of emotions gathering just beneath the surface. There was still hurt. Still doubt. Still all the pieces of you he hadn’t shown up for.

But there was also the boy who used to know you better than anyone.

You took a breath. “If we’re going to be friends again. It has to be honest. And I’m not going to carry it all alone anymore.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t smug. It was grateful.

“Then I’ll be honest. And I’ll show up,” he said.

You nodded once, slowly. “Okay. We’ll see.”

He reached for another slice of pizza, eyes still flickering toward you, this time without guilt. Just quiet hope.

Outside, the sky had gotten darker, but the space between you and him… felt a little more open.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was the same night Jungkook and his parents were going next door for dinner with your family. But Jungkook lay sprawled on his unmade bed, one arm tucked under his head, the other holding his phone above him, the dim light casting soft shadows on the ceiling.

The group chat was muted, but that didn’t stop him from stealing glances. The flood of messages was exactly what he expected:

Taehyung: yo you guys should check out nayeon's thirst trap on insta Hoseok: fuck i saw that aye. she's gorgeous or should i say... jugs are gorgeous hahaha Jin-hyung: anyone actually studying? lmao Yoongi: let’s get lit next week. I need to black out or drop out. either’s fine at this point. Taehyung: jungkookie, u alive or what? u been ghostin us harder than my dad Namjoon: bet’s still a go right? or did golden boy catch feelings

He locked his phone then, jaw clenched, face blank. He hated that it still got to him. The way they talked about you like you were just another game. And worse, that he hadn’t shut it down from the start. He could still hear your voice in the car after the kiss. “You don’t get to do that.” Like you’d finally seen right through him.

He tossed the phone aside with a groan, covering his face. His chest felt tight ever since that night. Guilty, restless, like no distraction could quiet the ache. And the worst part? The loud music and laughter you’d been hearing through your bedroom wall? That was on purpose.

He turned the volume up knowing you could hear it. Let the bass rattle the silence between you. It was stupid. Immature. But if he couldn’t say what he felt, maybe he could make enough noise to hide from it.

Or maybe, he was hoping you'd hear it and care.

Then a soft buzz.

One new message. Not from the group. But from Jimin.

[Jimin]: yo. u good? been quiet. just checking in. lmk if u need anything

Jungkook stared at it. Didn’t open it. Didn’t reply. But he didn’t look away either.

Then the phone lit up again. Jimin was calling.

One ring. Two. Three.

With a sigh, Jungkook dragged the phone to his ear, answering without a word.

“Bro,” Jimin’s voice came through. It sounded tired but kind. “You gonna keep ghosting me too or what?”

The silence stretched.

“How’s your break going?” Jimin tried again, softer now, like he wasn’t sure how much to push. “I just wanna know if you’re okay. I know when you go quiet, it’s not nothing.”

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, knuckles brushing his temple. He let out a breath that barely passed as a response. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to go through with the bet, you know,” Jimin said gently. “You know how the guys are. Especially Namjoon and Hoseok... they talk big but half the time they're just trying to get under your skin.”

Jungkook scoffed quietly, exhaling through his nose. “It’s whatever. I don’t care.”

Jimin paused. That answer didn’t sit right.

“Yeah,” he said carefully, “but I know you.”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, eyes narrowing at the ceiling.

“You’re reckless, sure,” Jimin went on, tone lighter but still firm. “You pick fights. You party too hard. You kiss girls you shouldn’t sometimes. But you’re not… cruel, Jungkook.”

Jungkook swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry.

Jimin’s voice dipped lower, more hesitant. “You wouldn’t hurt her just to win something stupid. Not Y/n.”

No answer.

That silence said more than denial ever could.

Jimin let it hang a moment before pressing on. “I’m not saying you have to confess or blow it all up or whatever. But don’t sit there like none of it matters. I saw your face that night. You shut the whole table down when the guys joked about her. Hell, you wouldn’t even let Hoseok shoot his shot.”

That struck. Hard.

Jungkook sat up abruptly, elbows digging into his knees, palm dragging down his face. The pressure behind his eyes was dull but relentless.

“Then what does that say about you, huh?” he asked, voice rough, words coming out before he could stop them.

Jimin blinked. “What?”

“If you know I’m not like that... If you see that, then why’d you bring me around them in the first place?” Jungkook’s voice wasn’t angry, but there was weight behind it. “And why are you still hanging around like it’s all fine? Why are they even your friends, Jimin?”

He paused, words tightening in his throat before spilling out softer, but no less pointed. “Come to think of it… I’ve never even seen you act like them. Not once.”

There was a pause on the other end. Jimin didn’t answer right away.

“They’re my brothers,” he said eventually, voice quiet. “I grew up with most of them. High school, dorms, hell, and Namjoon... he's practically like an older brother to me.”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh. “So what, that means you just look the other way?”

“No,” Jimin replied, more firmly now. “I pick my battles. I speak up when it matters. Like right now.”

Jungkook blinked.

“I know they joke like it’s all just for fun. But I also know when something’s eating at you,” Jimin continued. “And this? Whatever it is… it’s getting to you.”

Jungkook didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

Because Jimin already knew.

“You care about her,” Jimin said softly. “You can lie to them, but you don’t have to lie to me.”

Jungkook stared at the floor, fingers curling around the edge of his hoodie.

He wanted to argue. To deny. To shut it all down.

But he didn’t.

Because for the first time in days, someone wasn’t laughing. Wasn’t mocking. Wasn’t treating it like a bet.

Someone actually saw him.

And that, somehow, made everything harder to ignore.

“Look, man,” Jimin said, voice steady, “you’re lucky to have a best friend like Y/n. A childhood friend, someone who knows you inside and out, sees past the noise. Not everyone gets that. Most people don’t get it at all.”

There was a pause, heavy but sincere.

“Whatever you do… don’t fuck it up. You’re the one who gets to choose what kind of person you want to be. Don’t lose her and don’t lose yourself.”

Jungkook closed his eyes, the words sinking deep.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” Jimin added quietly. “You already know how I feel. You care about her. You always have, even when you were trying not to. That’s obvious.”

Jungkook stared at the phone like it might answer for him.

“But this is your choice, Jungkook,” Jimin said firmly. “No one else’s. Not mine. Not Namjoon’s. Not the group. Just yours.”

Jungkook’s chest ached less than before. This was what he needed to hear. Not to fix him, not to judge him, but to remind him he still had time.

Time to choose.

Between his pride… and you.

Jungkook helped clear the coffee table, stacking empty glasses and gathering the stray napkins left behind. He didn’t say much, just moved with a quiet ease. Like this wasn’t the first time in a long time that it was just the two of you again. He took the pizza boxes out to the bin, brushing past you with a faint “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, you were already curled up on one side of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, your phone resting idly in your hand. Jungkook dropped down on the opposite end, leaving a respectable space between you both. Comfortable, but cautious.

“So,” he said, tilting his head toward you, “how’s uni going? Still dying over those research papers?”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah, pretty much. I’ve got one due next week, and my brain just isn’t braining.”

He smiled, the kind that softened the sharp edges of him. “What’s it on?”

“Marketing psychology. How consumer behaviour’s influenced by social proof. It’s interesting but I don’t know... something about the angle I’m taking just feels off.”

Jungkook leaned back slightly, arm resting along the back of the couch. “You want help with it?”

You glanced at him. “You don't take marketing. And there’s no need... I’ve got it.”

“But I want to,” he replied, voice gentle but steady. “If you’re stuck, I could at least look over your outline or something.”

You met his eyes, something wary curling in your chest. “Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother,” he said, a bit more firmly this time. “Come on. Just let me help, even if I don't take marketing or may not understand, but who knows.”

You looked at him for a beat, reading the sincerity in his face, the way his expression held no trace of obligation. Just that quiet insistence of someone who still knew you too well.

“…Okay,” you said finally, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, satisfied smile.

You stood from the couch, stretching slightly before turning on your heel and heading toward the stairs without saying much.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you, his brows knitting in quiet confusion. “Wait... where are you going?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, one foot already on the bottom step. “To study,” you said, your voice steady but edged with something unreadable. “You said you’d help, didn’t you? Or was that just you being nice?”

There was a flicker in his expression. Something between surprise and amusement. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees before rising to his feet. “No, I meant it,” he said, his tone softer now.

You gave a small nod and turned, continuing up the stairs. He followed, the air between you both still thick. But there was something else there too... familiarity settling back in like muscle memory.

By the time you reached your room and flicked the light on, it wasn’t comfortable, not quite. But it wasn’t awkward anymore either. Just two people figuring out how to be in the same space again, quietly navigating the in-between.

Jungkook stood silently at the doorway, taking in the familiar warmth of your room. Through your window, he caught a faint glimpse of his own bedroom across the way. A subtle reminder of how intertwined your lives are or had been. Your childhood space looked nearly the same. The same soft-toned walls, the same bookshelf stacked with stories and secrets. But now, your desk was cluttered with scattered uni papers and an overworked laptop plastered with half-faded stickers. A remnants of a different kind of growing up. A few bags lay by the door, clothes and things for had brought with you for the semester break. Everything around him felt like a snapshot of your life. The past, present, real, and lived-in.

And just like that, Jungkook was in your world again. The air held a kind of intimacy. This was the room where you once let him see you for the first time. Not just in the way of laughter and childhood secrets, but in the way skin met skin, and silence meant more than words. Where childhood faded into something tender and complicated. Where secrets were whispered under the covers and teenage hearts beat just a little too fast.

Where the lights were dim, breaths uneven, and everything change. Even if no one dared to say it out loud.

His eyes drifted across your shelves, and then, they landed on something small and familiar tucked behind a candle and a pen holder. It was a worn photobooth strip. He reached for it without thinking, gently sliding it out.

It was the two of you. About twelve years old, grinning wide with chocolate-stained mouths, hair windblown from the amusement park rides. One frame was blurry, the second was of you flashing peace signs, and the last… he remembered it clearly. You were hugging him, both of you laughing so hard your faces were scrunched up.

That day, you’d gotten separated from your parents for nearly an hour. Maybe they were distracted, or maybe Jungkook had just wandered off like the curious kid he was. And you, naturally, had followed. You were panicked, teary-eyed, and scared, but he’d held your hand the entire time until the staff found your parents.

You didn’t let go of his hand for the whole car ride home.

He held the photo up, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

You looked up and instantly tensed. Without a word, you reached out and snatched it from his hands, shoving it back onto the shelf, half-buried again.

“I’m surprised I do,” you muttered under your breath. “Should’ve thrown it out a long time ago.”

The words hit harder than you intended, and you saw it in the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, the light in his eyes dimming just slightly.

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly, the softness gone from his voice now. “Don’t act like it meant nothing.”

You didn’t respond right away. The silence pressed in thick, almost suffocating.

“I’m not saying it meant nothing,” you said finally, your voice tight. “I’m saying I don’t know what it means anymore.”

Jungkook looked at you for a long moment. Not just looking but searching. For understanding, for something to hold onto. But whatever he was hoping to find wasn’t there. Not yet. You letting him up into you room. Your space. This was good.

He looked at the photo, now half-buried on the shelf like a memory you weren’t ready to hold, then back at you. And in that quiet second, something settled in him. An unspoken reckoning.

Stop digging through the ashes, he told himself. Start planting something different.

If he wanted to be in your life again. It couldn’t be through nostalgia or guilt. It couldn’t be about reaching into the past and hoping you'd meet him there. You deserved more than that.

He took a slow breath, grounding himself.

If he wanted a place beside you now, he had to earn it. Patiently. Genuinely. Not with apologies or half-measures, but with presence. With consistency. By showing up for the version of you that stood here today, not the one he left behind.

No shortcuts. No rewinds.

Just small steps forward, steady and sure

Now, he looked at you and saw not the girl he once knew, but a woman. Radiant, grounded, quietly strong. A grown version of Y/n he’d been lucky enough to grow up alongside. But the thought hit him. Could you say the same about him?

Was he someone worth growing up with?

Fuck no, he thought bitterly. He wasn’t the same. Neither of you were, but while you had evolved, found direction, he had become someone else entirely. An ego-driven, impulsive mess. Caught up in his own pride, his own shit choices. Maybe it wasn’t the crowd around him, maybe it wasn’t even the noise of growing up. Maybe the problem was just… him.

Then your voice cut through his spiral, grounding him like it always did.

You pulled out the chair at your desk, flipping open your laptop and motioning toward the mess of half-scribbled notes and open tabs.

“Okay, genius,” you muttered, not even sparing him a glance, “let’s see what you’ve got.”

Jungkook let out a breathy chuckle as he closed the door halfway and pull a small cushion pink extra chair you had. Jungkook sat down beside you, his shoulder a safe distance from yours, close enough to feel his presence but not so close that it crossed any lines. He glanced at the screen, then at the scattered notes, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh.

“So this is your outline?” he asked, reaching for one of the pages. His voice was neutral and careful, like he didn’t want to disrupt whatever fragile comfort had settled between you both.

You nodded, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. Like I said, I’m trying to build a case around how social proof affects buyer confidence, but it’s feeling kind of flat. Like I’m stating the obvious, you know?”

He scanned the page in silence, eyes moving quickly as he took in your scribbles and bullet points. “I mean… you’ve got the structure down. Maybe it just needs a stronger hook. Something a little more personal to tie it together?”

You glanced at him. “Like an anecdote?”

“Exactly. Something relatable. I know that you always had a way of making theory feel… grounded.”

You looked away at that, eyes flickering toward your laptop as you tried not to react to the unexpected compliment. The silence stretched again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… present.

“Okay,” you murmured, tapping the trackpad. “So say I talk about online reviews. That moment when you’re about to buy something but you hesitate until you see a five-star review from a stranger.”

Jungkook leaned in slightly, nodding. “Yeah. Or even something simple. Like going to a new restaurant just because it’s always full. That’s social proof too.”

You clicked your tongue, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Okay that's a good one, I'll put that down."

Time passed quietly.

It was just focused, steady, full of pencil scratches, keyboard clicks, and the occasional back-and-forth about your topic. You didn’t expect it to go this well. As for Jungkook, for all his cockiness and unpredictability had a mind that knew how to connect dots. How to pull abstract ideas into something clear and grounded. His insight was sharp, his perspective surprisingly thoughtful. He asked questions that made you pause, reframe, rethink.

You found yourself in awe because this is someone who majors in film, not marketing. He had no formal background in this, but still he somehow saw things you didn't. At one point, you caught yourself just watching him. Focused. Leaning over your screen, fingers tapping against his lip as he read through your points.

Something fluttered in your chest. A dull ache... and the occasional butterfly in your stomach you tried to ignore. Because this wasn’t supposed to feel like anything. You weren’t supposed to feel anything.

But it was hard not to, sitting here beside him like this. Close but not touching, breathing the same air, working in quiet sync like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like your childhood best friend, Jeon Jungkook, had never really left... that he’d been here all along.

By the time you closed your laptop with a soft sigh of relief, the clock on your bedside table blinked 8:03 PM. Outside, the moon hung low in the night sky, its pale light filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow across your room. You rubbed your temples and leaned back in your chair, shoulders aching but heart lighter than it had been all week.

“Well,” you murmured, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, “I guess I owe you one.”

Jungkook smirked, leaning back on his hands. “Guess you do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, too late,” he grinned, and for a second, it felt like he was still the boy who used to copy your homework just to spend more time with you.

You stared at him a beat too long before looking away, standing to stretch your legs. You could feel his eyes on you, still soft, still searching.

The truth was, you wanted to believe that this version of Jungkook, the one who was helpful, present, almost gentle, was the real one. Or at least the one that was here to stay.

But somewhere deep inside, a small, persistent voice echoed. Maybe it was Hana's again. Be careful.

And you weren’t sure why. Or maybe you were. Maybe it was the history. The familiarity. The patterns. The way he could pull you in with a look, a joke, a memory. Only to vanish behind that familiar wall of ego once university resumed. To slip back into the embrace of his crowd, the endless parties, the hollow validation he breathed in like oxygen.

You didn’t want to feed into it. You didn’t want to be the girl who got too hopeful, too soon.

So instead, you leaned against your desk and crossed your arms casually, tossing him a smirk that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, don’t expect a thank-you parade or anything. I’ll mention you in the footnotes, maybe. Small font.”

Jungkook chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair, but something in his expression faltered. Like he could feel the distance you were keeping. Like he knew exactly what you were doing and maybe even why.

Still, he didn’t push.

And neither did you.

Because this version of things was safe. And that little voice inside your head wasn’t wrong to be cautious. After all, once you were back at uni, who’s to say he wouldn’t go right back to being that guy? The jock with the smirk and the swagger, the one who always left you second-guessing where you stood.

So you tucked that voice away, but not too deep.

Just far enough to enjoy this moment without breaking your own heart over it.

Jungkook shifted slightly in the chair, the silence between you both stretching.

“So…” he began, voice a little softer now.

“Would you maybe be keen to help me with my film theory paper sometime?”

You turned to glance at him, one brow raised.

“I figured since I just saved your grade, maybe you could return the favour,” he added quickly, eyes flicking to yours with a cautious smile. “Or… if not that, maybe you’d want to see what I’ve been working on? Just... I don’t know. No pressure.”

It caught you off guard. Not just the request, but the vulnerability tucked behind it. As if he didn’t just want your help. As if he wanted to show you something. A piece of his world. Let you in.

But before the words could leave your mouth. The front door opened downstairs, followed by the familiar sound of your mum’s voice calling out, “Y/n? We’re home!”

You blinked, straightening. “Oh! mum and dad are back,” you said, glancing toward the doorway as you rose from your seat.

Jungkook nodded and stood too, slower this time, brushing his hands down the front of his pants.

You followed the familiar voices into the kitchen, Jungkook just behind you. Your mum was unpacking a small tote bag while your dad sorted through takeaway containers on the bench.

“How was comedy night?” you asked, leaning casually against the wall, trying not to look like your heart had been racing a little ever since you stepped downstairs.

Your mum looked up with a grin. “Hilarious. Honestly, I haven't laughed that hard in ages.”

“Except when you tripped on the steps during intermission,” your dad added with a chuckle.

“Oh, hush!” she swatted at him playfully before turning to Jungkook. “Your mum, by the way, had the best time. I swear she was wiping tears the entire show.”

Jungkook’s smile widened. “Sounds like her. She would’ve been in her element. She’s got the loudest laugh in any room.”

Your mum nodded, pointing a finger at him. “Oh, she did! And honestly? I think she laughed way more tonight than she ever has at your dad’s jokes.”

Everyone laughed at that. Even your dad, who threw his hands up in faux surrender. “Brutal.”

You found yourself watching Jungkook again. The way he blended so effortlessly into your home, your family.

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth chatter about the show, the parking, your mum’s snack hoarding. Jungkook shifted his weight and cleared his throat gently.

“I should probably head back,” he said, glancing at the time on the microwave. "Really enjoyed tonight." Jungkook says more to you.

Your parents both waved him off warmly.

“Alright son.” your dad said.

“Thanks again Jungkook” your mum added.

Jungkook smiled and looked at you, eyes warm. “Bye, Y/n,” he said, then paused just a second longer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You blinked. “Tomorrow?”

He raised a brow, amused. “Mrs. Kwon’s retirement party? The errands? Your mum said you and I are in charge of the list.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Right. Your mum had mentioned that to you today.

“Oh... yeah,” you nodded quickly, recovering. “Of course. Tomorrow."

Jungkook gave you a crooked grin at your awkwardness before bending down to put his shoes back on near the front door. Your parents had wandered off to the living room by then, leaving just the two of you again.

He opened the front door, stepping one foot onto the porch. Then suddenly stopped as you called out, “Wait!”

You stepped forward, reaching for his arm without thinking. Your fingers curled around his sleeve, stopping him in place.

He turned back slowly, eyes searching yours, and you knew he could feel it. The heat rising off your skin, the way your touch lingered, hesitant and unsure. The night air felt cooler in contrast to the warmth pulsing between your hand and his arm.

He didn’t speak. Just waited patiently.

“I’ll help you,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“With the film theory stuff,” you clarified, eyes dropping briefly before meeting his again. “I’ll help.”

A flicker of something soft passed through his expression. Jungkook gave you a quiet nod, the corners of his lips tugging up into a small smile.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, voice lower now. “Really.”

You let go of his sleeve slowly.

“Good night, Y/n.”

And with that, he stepped off the porch and into the quiet evening, hands in his pockets, smile still lingering, and you stood there for a moment longer, the imprint of his presence still pressed into the air around you.

You walked back inside slowly, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The house was calm now, your parents now probably in their room, calling it a night.

You headed upstairs, your room exactly as you left it. Laptop open, notes scattered, that damn photobooth strip still half-tucked behind the candle. You paused in front of it, chewing your bottom lip before slowly pulling it out again. The faces in the photo smiled up at you, frozen in a moment that felt both impossibly far and painfully close.

You sighed.

You wanted to believe in second chances. You really did.

But as you set the photo down again. Not hiding it this time, just letting it sit there, exposed. And just as you were about to step away from your desk, your phone suddenly buzzed.

This time, the message preview made your stomach drop and flutter.

[Jungkook]: You should probably close your curtains unless you actually want me to see you

You froze mid-step, eyes widening. Slowly, instinctively, you glanced toward your window. And sure enough, across the way, Jungkook was standing at his bedroom window, phone in hand, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He gave a small wave, smug and warm, the kind that screamed gotcha.

You rolled your eyes, flustered but smiling despite yourself. Your fingers hovered over your screen before you started typing back.

[You]: Goodnight, creep.

You hit send and watched as he read it almost immediately. He didn’t reply back but you caught his slight nod through the glass before he pulled his curtains closed.

You drew your own curtains shut slowly, the quiet click echoing in the room. The tension lingered, heavy and unresolved but somehow, it was exactly where it needed to be.

[ꜰʟᴀꜱʜʙᴀᴄᴋ] It was a Friday night when Jungkook invited you to meet some of the guys he'd been out with more lately. From your knowledge and from what Jungkook had mentioned to you. Two of them also major in film and the others from either Hospitality Management, Communications, Health Science and Performing Arts. Over time, Jungkook had gradually made his way into the frat scene. He started hanging out and studying with them more often, eventually moving into a shared house just off campus. The kind of place where every surface felt a little sticky and the music never really stopped, even on weeknights.

You had hesitated.

This wasn’t your scene. And more than that, these weren’t your people. You knew it the second Jungkook described them with that offhand, casual tone. Like he was trying not to sound like he cared too much about fitting in with them. Like maybe he already did.

But still, you went. Because he asked. Because part of you wanted to understand this new world he was drifting toward. The one that seemed to pull him further away from you each week.

When you arrived, the place was buzzing. Music thumped through the walls, people you didn’t recognize moved in and out of rooms like currents, red solo cups in hand, someone shouting over a beer pong table in the back. It was far from the quiet hangouts you were used to with Jungkook. This wasn’t his bedroom, or your porch swing, or even his car with the windows down and some soft R&B playing. This was his world now, or at least the one he chose to show you tonight.

Jungkook led you in, hand briefly brushing yours. Not enough to hold, but enough to steady you. Like old times.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “They’re chill.”

You gave a tight nod, trying to suppress the rising awkwardness as he brought you to the group sprawled across the couches.

“Yo,” Jungkook called out. “This is her. My good friend, Y/n.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking between you and the guys. “We’ve known each other forever.”

A scattered chorus of hellos followed, laced with low chuckles and exchanged glances. You noticed Namjoon eyeing you with mild curiosity before lifting his drink in a lazy toast.

Jin, already tipsy, leaned forward with a lopsided grin. “This Kook’s girl? Damn, no wonder he dips early sometimes. She’s cute.”

Jungkook laughed it off, shaking his head. “She’s like my little sister. Practically family.”

Your stomach turned a little. Little sister wasn’t the label you expected or wanted. But you kept your smile in place, even as your chest tightened.

Then came him. Hoseok, all charm and mischief, sauntering in from the kitchen with a beer in hand and an easy smile stretched across his face.

“Ah,” he said, eyes landing on you like he’d just discovered something interesting. “So this is the famous Y/n”

“Famous?” you echoed, unsure.

Jungkook chuckled nervously. “They’ve just heard me mention you, that’s all.”

Throughout the night, you stuck close to Jungkook’s side as he navigated through the crowd, stopping now and then to introduce you. And then you met Jimin.

You’d only heard a little about Jimin from Jungkook.

Jungkook had mentioned him offhandedly. Just a guy he met at a club event, someone who quickly became part of his inner circle. He didn’t say much beyond “Jimin’s cool. We just clicked, I guess.” But the way Jungkook spoke about him, with an ease he rarely used for new people, made you curious. You were happy for him. Genuinely. Especially knowing how selective he could be about who he let close. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised. This was Jungkook now. Frat mode activated, surrounded by a crew of wildly different personalities, and somehow fitting right in.

Jimin was leaning casually against the kitchen counter, drink in hand, radiating warmth with that easy smile of his. When Jungkook introduced you. “Yo Jimin, this is Y/n."

You noticed the flicker in Jimin’s eyes. He stepped forward, offering his hand with that easy charm. “Hey, I’m Jimin. Park Jimin."

You blinked, a little thrown by how warm he seemed, and how intently he was looking at you. “Yeah… I’ve heard some things about you.”

His smile tugged wider, just bordering on playful. “Good things, right?”

You shrugged, half-teasing. “Guess that depends on who’s telling the story.”

Jungkook let out a short laugh beside you, rubbing the back of his neck again like he always did when things edged toward awkward or interesting.

Jimin laughed, stepping closer. "And same here, Jungkook talks about you all the time."

“Really? like what?” you asked, curious.

He grinned. “I'll say it's confidential. But don't worry Jungkook speaks of good things."

You laughed, a little flustered. “I hope he does.”

Just then, Jungkook leaned toward you, gently touching your arm. “I’ll be right back. Just gotta take care of something upstairs,” he said, nodding in that direction.

You hesitated, unsure whether you really wanted to be left alone in a room full of mostly strangers. But before you could say anything, Jimin caught the shift in your expression.

“I got you,” he said easily. “Promise. You won’t even notice he’s gone.”

Something about the way he said it made you feel just a little more at ease.

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook said, giving Jimin a quick nod before moving his way past people and heading upstairs.

With him gone, the atmosphere subtly shifted. Less pressure, more ease. Jimin had a way of pulling you into conversation so naturally that before long, the awkwardness faded. The vibe turned playful, the exchange of words coming without effort. Still, your mind drifted now and then, eyes flicking toward the stairs to check if Jungkook was coming back.

But as the minutes passed, you found yourself relaxing. Jimin was good company. Surprisingly so.

“A myth?” you echoed, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Jimin nodded, eyes playful. “Like this mysterious best friend he’s known forever who ‘just gets him’ and ‘knows too much.’ Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you were real or a ghost from his past.”

You smirked. “I guess I’m real enough.”

He offered you a drink, which you politely declined, and then leaned against the counter beside you, still clearly intrigued.

“So… childhood best friends, huh? That’s wild. How far back are we talking?”

You smiled. “Since babies. Our moms were friends before we were even born. We kind of… grew up side by side.”

Jimin let out a soft, impressed whistle. “Damn. That’s something else.”

“It is,” you nodded, your voice a little softer now. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Jimin turned slightly to face you, genuinely curious. “That kind of connection… I love that. Someone who just knows you. Your moods, your weird habits, your history. That kind of constant. It’s rare.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. “You never had that growing up?”

He shook his head. “Moved around too much. Friends came and went. Made great ones, sure but nothing that stuck like that. Nothing… unconditional.”

The air between you settled into something quieter, more thoughtful. You felt him watching you, not in a way that made you uncomfortable, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“You and Jungkook ever…?” he started, then hesitated.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ever what?”

He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, that’s probably nosy. I just... Jungkook’s talked about you like you’re this constant in his life. I was just curious.”

You glanced across the room, where Jungkook stood talking to someone, though his eyes occasionally flicked over to you.

“It’s complicated,” you said finally. “We’ve always been close. But I don't ever picture going further with him. We are like family." You lied, well partly lied.

Jimin nodded slowly, taking that in. “That makes sense. Still… it must be hard. Being so close to someone for so long and never really knowing what could’ve been.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t have to.

He saw the answer in your eyes.

Before he could say more, Jungkook reappeared at your side, arm brushing yours as he leaned in. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just talking.”

Jimin gave Jungkook a friendly smile. “She’s great, man. You didn’t tell me your best friend was this interesting.”

Jungkook gave a small smirk, eyes lingering on you for a beat too long. “She’s a lot of things.”

You couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a warning. Maybe both.

And just like that, the quiet moment with Jimin dissolved back into the noise of the party. But something had changed. You could feel it. For Jimin, maybe it was finally being able to put a name and a story, to the girl behind all the mentions. And for you, it was a flicker of something unexpected.

And for Jungkook… well, maybe noticing Jimin’s attention, leaned down to you and asked, “Wanna go upstairs? I wanna show you my room.”

You gave Jimin a small smile and excused yourself, following Jungkook up the stairs with a curious kind of comfort tugging at your chest.

His door was slightly ajar when you reached it, and you hesitated for just a second before pushing it open.

This was probably what he’d been doing up here. Tidying up. Resetting the space a little. The faint scent of clean linen lingered in the air, and the trash bin was newly empty. His bed was made, sheets pulled tight like it was something he rarely did but felt like doing tonight, just because you were here.

His room wasn’t anything special, it very him. But it was quiet, familiar in its own way, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were back in your own little world again.

It stopped you at the door.

The lighting was soft, almost dreamy. Purple LED strips lined the top shelf and cast a glow over the whole space, painting everything in a wash of calm lavender. It made the white of his plain tee look crisper. The corners of the room felt tucked away from the world, safe.

The bed was low and made, with dark sheets and a single hoodie draped over the back of his chair. A tangle of earbuds peeked from beneath a pillow. And on the wall above the headboard, LED stars were pinned like constellations. A little soft. A little romantic. Like him. And it felt strangely intimate to be standing in the middle of it.

Your eyes drifted to the shelf beside his desk, where the purple LED glow softly illuminated a small, silver picture frame. It was tilted slightly, like it had been picked up and put back down more than once. You stepped closer.

It was a photo of you and Jungkook. Years ago. The two of you maybe thirteen, maybe even younger. You were both barefoot in the grass, sun in your eyes, your arm slung lazily around his shoulders, his grin wide and boyish, two teeth slightly crooked before braces straightened them out. Your head was tilted toward him, like gravity had always pulled you in that direction.

You stared at it.

And suddenly, the quiet in the room felt heavier. Not peaceful. Not warm.

Just quiet.

Because when was the last time you felt like that with him? Like his gravity hadn’t faltered? When was the last time he laughed with you like you were still the most familiar part of his day?

You didn’t notice he’d moved until he was right beside you, gaze locked not on the photo, but on your expression.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

You didn’t answer. Just stepped back slightly, arms crossed loosely over your chest. The weight of the past few weeks. Him not showing up, his dry one-word replies, settled between you like fog.

He saw it now. You watched him realize it.

Jungkook reached out slowly and took your hand.

You blinked, startled at the sudden gentleness.

“Come here,” he murmured.

He led you to the edge of his bed and sat down with you, his fingers still wrapped loosely around yours. You didn’t pull away. You just… waited.

He exhaled hard through his nose, staring down at your intertwined hands like they were something breakable.

“I’m sorry,” he started, voice low. “For the past few weeks. For being distant. For leaving you on seen. For acting like I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

You didn’t say anything, and it made him press on.

“I didn’t mean to disappear. I just... I don’t know. Everything’s been moving so fast lately. New people. New expectations. And I guess I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought I could juggle it all. I thought maybe you didn’t need me the way you used to.”

You looked at him then. Really looked.

And he looked lost in the kind of way only someone you’ve known your whole life could look.

“That’s the thing, Jungkook,” you said quietly.

He swallowed hard, thumb brushing against your knuckles like muscle memory.

“I miss you,” you said. "I just miss my best friend. I just needed you to show up.... I mean you could've communicated better."

Jungkook wanted to say that he misses you too. God, he did. But his throat felt tight, caught between regret and something unspoken that hung in the air like fog.

Instead, he just nodded, once. You both sat there, side by side on the edge of his bed, your hands still tangled loosely like old routines you didn’t know you missed until they came back.

For a moment, it felt okay again.

Not fixed.

But… okay.

That is, until the door burst open without warning.

“Yo!”

Loud laughter and heavy footsteps flooded in as Hoseok and Taehyung barged in, completely oblivious to the shift they’d just shattered.

“Damn, Kook!” Hoseok grinned, not even pretending to be apologetic as he flopped into Jungkook’s desk chair like it was his own. “Didn’t think you were bringing your girl up here already.”

Taehyung whistled low under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the doorframe. “We interrupting something?”

Jungkook shot them both a flat look, clearly not in the mood for their timing. “Can you not?”

But Hoseok just smirked, spinning slowly in the chair. “Relax, man. You could’ve just put a sock on the door or something.”

Taehyung grinned at you, a little sheepish. “Hey Y/n, hope you're enjoying the party so far.”

You offered a tight smile, trying to pretend your hand hadn’t just been in Jungkook’s. Slowly, you pulled it back into your lap.

Jungkook noticed.

And even through the interruption, the noise, the teasing. His eyes didn’t leave you.

Hoseok leaned back in Jungkook’s chair, arms behind his head like he was settling in for a show. “Anyway,” he said, smirking like he knew exactly what kind of moment he’d walked in on, “you two should come downstairs. Namjoon’s been pacing around like he’s hosting a TED Talk and no one’s listening.”

Taehyung laughed. “Yeah, he’s already asked where you were like… three times.”

Hoseok grinned wider, adding, “Don’t want to make him jealous now, Kook. You’ve got your favorite girl up here, and poor Joon’s left babysitting the beer pong table alone.”

Jungkook groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But endearing,” Hoseok said brightly.

“You wish.”

You tried to hide the smile tugging at your lips, but it was hard. The shift in mood was jarring, but maybe needed. You could still feel the weight of what had been said between you and Jungkook lingering like warmth in the air… but it didn’t feel like it had been erased. Just… shelved for now.

Taehyung tilted his head toward you. “You coming?”

You glanced at Jungkook, unsure if you should stay or give him space. But he caught your eye and gave you the smallest nod. Like he was saying Don’t go just yet. Not like that.

So you stood. Smoothed your hands over your jeans and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I’ll come.”

Jungkook got up too, his hand brushing the small of your back for a second. So quick it could’ve been nothing, but you felt it anyway.

“Let’s go,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.

The four of you filed out of the room, and as you reached the top of the stairs, Jungkook leaned a little closer, voice low, just for you.

“We’ll talk more later,” he said. “Promise.”

You looked at him, heart doing that familiar ache again.

“Okay,” you whispered.

And somehow… you believed him.

Eventually, all of you headed back downstairs. Jimin was nowhere to be found. But even in the chaos, being by Jungkook’s side again after days of him pulling away gave you a sliver of happiness. You tried to hold onto that.

The boys were all talking over each other. Namjoon throwing out a plan for Korean BBQ after class tomorrow, Taehyung already texting someone to reserve a table. Hoseok started talking about some girl he’d hooked up with last week, and the conversation veered toward crude jokes and casual bragging. You didn’t say much. You were starting to feel out of place.

That’s when you noticed it.

Jungkook, who, you’d say, normally thrived in this chaos, usually loud and quick with comebacks seemed… distant. His laugh was a second too late. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. And every now and then, you caught him staring off at nothing.

It was subtle. But you saw it. And it made your stomach stir.

And then Hoseok leaned over, voice just loud enough to cut through the din. “Yo, you mind if I get a pass?”

Jungkook blinked. “Huh?”

“You know… with Y/n.” Hoseok jerked his chin toward you. “She’s hot. I’d fuck her.”

At first, you didn’t register it. The background noise blurred it out. But when you saw Hoseok’s eyes land on you, that smirk curling at the edges of his mouth, it hit you. The words slammed into your chest, knocking the air from your lungs.

And Jungkook?

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even hesitate.

He just shrugged. “By all means.”

The group roared with laughter, the sound swallowing everything. But not for you. For you, time stopped.

You stood there, frozen.

What? you breathed, the word barely forming on your lips.

You turned to him, waiting desperately for something. A joke. A correction. An apology. A flicker of the person who just stood next to you upstairs, who said Promise.

But he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t even look at you.

And you… you were too stunned to speak. Too stunned to even fathom how fast he had switched up. How the boy who made his room feel like home moments ago could reduce you to a punchline like it meant nothing.

Like you meant nothing.

You didn’t want to scream or cause a scene, but the curse words spilled out faster than your mind could keep up with. Your chest burned and your throat tightened as you turned away, weaving through the crowd, desperate to hold back tears. You just needed to get out.

And just as you reached the door, weaving through strangers, a hand gently but firmly grabbed your arm.

It was Jimin.

He looked surprised at first, like he hadn’t expected to catch you leaving so soon. “Hey,” he said, a half-smile on his lips. “Already heading out?”

Then he saw your face. The smile dropped. “Hey… are you okay?”

You couldn’t look at him. Not at first. But eventually, you met his eyes, and he looked so concerned, so sincere, that you had to answer. “Yeah,” you lied. “Just getting late. I’ve got an early class.”

He didn’t believe you, you could tell. But he didn’t press. “It was nice finally meeting you,” he said softly.

“Likewise,” you murmured, your voice small.

You slipped out the door before the tears could break free, the cool night air hitting your face like a shock as you tried to steady your breathing. The ache in your chest was raw, threatening to spill over, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to move forward.

Behind you, Jimin made his way back to the group, slipping into the familiar chaos.

“Where’d you disappear to?” Taehyung grinned, slinging an arm around Jimin’s shoulder. “You missed Hoseok’s thirsty ass.”

Jimin raised a brow. “What happened?”

“Hobi thought Y/n was cute,” Taehyung snorted. “Asked if he could hit.”

“What?” Jimin blinked.

“Yeah,” Taehyung laughed harder, clearly buzzed. “Well Kook didn’t even care. Seems like he doesn’t really care for her as much as he says he does.”

Jimin’s smile didn’t return.

His gaze slid across the room until it landed on Jungkook, who was slouched deep into the couch like he wanted to disappear. One leg bouncing. Cup in hand. Not drinking. Not talking. Just... elsewhere.

Avoiding eye contact. With himself. With everyone.

Jimin watched him quietly, head tilting slightly.

He and Jungkook were just two years apart, but sometimes it felt like more. Still, somewhere along the way, maybe between club events or late-night cramming. He started thinking of Jungkook as someone solid. A little brother, who at time can be annoying, impulsive, big-hearted. But good.

And yet, even now, with all the noise and music, Jimin felt it. The faint flicker of envy. Because Jungkook had you. Had grown up with you. Someone by his side since childhood.

That kind of connection? That kind of loyalty?

The truth was, Jimin used to have that too. A long time ago.

He's never told anyone, not even the guys. But sometimes, late at night, he still remembered the sound of her laughter echoing in empty spaces, the way she used to loop her arm through his and call him her person. Her safe place.

You reminded him of her, in a strange, aching kind of way.

Same softness. Same fire. Same way of looking at the world like it owed her answers and she wasn’t afraid to demand them.

But where that story of his ended, left something hollow in its place. He never talks about it. Never says her name out loud anymore. Not since...

Jimin’s jaw clenched. He blinked hard.

“You idiot,” he muttered, eyes still on Jungkook.

He didn’t even know who he was talking to anymore. Jungkook. Himself. The universe.

Maybe all of them.

#bangtan #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts scan #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook smut

Trending Blogs

Last Seen Blogs

selena ࣪𖤐.ᐟ