#bts fandom

You realized for the past 19 years (your entire life) of knowing him, you didn't just see him as a friend. You saw him as your everything. And suddenly, the word "love" started making sense.

But that's definitely something you wouldn't confess to him. Not because you were embarrassed, but rather because you valued your bond with Jungkook too much to risk it in such a foolish way. You'd hide your feelings forever if it meant seeing his smile forever.

Tonight was no other than any other night. You were sprawled out on your bed with your phone held tightly in one hand. Your finger swiped on the screen whenever you grew bored of the video you were watching, the dim light of your phone screen casted a subtle glow against your face and the light made your eyes wince. The day's events started kicking into your body and you could feel your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Just as your eyes were ready to close shut and drift yourself off into a deep, needed slumber, your phone's ringtone immediately woke you. The lively melody made you groan in annoyance, but when you saw Jungkook's name flash across the screen you didn't waste any time to answer the phone call.

"Hey," his warm voice filled your ear drums through the speaker. Your hand unknowingly clutched your phone tighter, a habit you had picked up whenever you called him late at night. His voice usually sounded more real at night - not rushed, not slowed, just.. perfect.

"Hi, Kook," your voice filled the quiet and dark bedroom in response. "What's up?"

On the other line of the phone you could hear something shift in the background, but you weren't quite sure what it was. You just shrugged it off.

"Can you come to the park near your house right now?"

You frowned. At this hour? You lifted the phone from your ear to check the time - 10:13PM.

"Can't we just meet up tomorr-"

"No. Please, it's important, I just.."

Silence stretched between the two of you as you patiently waited on him to finish his sentence. The odd silence made you chew on the inside of your cheek nervously.

"Just come."

And he ended the call. He didn't even give you an option of whether you want to go or not, so you basically had no other choice but to leave your warm bed and get dressed in decent clothes.

It took you about ten minutes to arrive at the park. By the time Jungkook noticed you from the swing he's sitting on, he flashed you a quick, soft smile and gestured with his head towards the swing next to him.

You followed his (what felt like a) command, tiredly plopping down with a sigh on the black tire-like material of the swing.

"You look dead," his voice came off as teasing and the slight smirk on his lips didn't go unnoticed by you. It made you scoff slightly in response before rubbing your burning eyes.

"So make it quick," you mumbled and looked his way this time. Something in his expression flickered - something you couldn't quite make out. Jungkook were always good at hiding his emotions, even now.

It was something you admired yet despised so much.

He looked down, his dark eyes taking in the detail of the a light, warm beige colored sand beneath his feet. His shoes dug into the sand in silence - as if he's thinking. Thinking carefully of what to say next.

Your heart jumped. A lump in your throat formed and your eyes unknowingly widened. You could only think of one thing at this very moment; he probably feels the same way towards you. He wants to confess.

God, you were more than ready for that. Have been ready for the past 19 years. So, you waited patiently, your eyes remaining on his figure next to yours. Your ears suddenly felt warm. Well, not just your ears - your entire body.

As the minutes seemed to tick by your patience grew thin and the curiosity only grew within you. The night fell completely silent at that very moment - you couldn't even hear the crickets anymore. You weren't sure whether they disappeared into nothing or if your brain just decided to cut them out, decided to only focus on Jungkook's voice if he were to speak up.

He cleared his throat, his eyes remaining on the sand down at his feet. His shoes were now completely covered in sand - this must be a big deal for him. He only usually did things like that when he grew nervous or anxious.

"Y/N."

Here it comes. The confession you've been waiting for.. basically your entire life. This intimate and quiet moment between the two of you only made you realize how much you actually loved him. The moonlight shining at a perfect angle against his face gave you access to every detail on his face. The faint sweat visible on his face, the mole underneath his bottom lip, his pupils dilating absently. It reminded you of how real this moment felt.

Your eyebrows slightly shot up and your hand gripped the swing tighter. As soon as his mouth opened to speak you bit your bottom lip impatiently.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

Now he looked at you.

You looked at him.

The only difference is, your eyes were getting watery. His eyes seemed completely normal. Grounded. Emotionless?

You weren't expecting this. You were expecting anything but this. The smile on your face fainted as slow as it came before he dropped this bomb on you. The grip you once had on the swing loosened as the words seemed to sink in deeper and deeper into the raw flesh of your skin.

"For college. I'm going to the States, and.." he trailed off slowly.

You didn't respond - you couldn't respond. The words that formed inside of your mouth couldn't get them out into a sound.

".. I don't think I'll be returning."

Your eyelids slowly opened, the sunlight creeping through the window made your eyes wince in response. Your laptop next to you on your desk - opened but completely forgotten - got hit by your own elbow once you shifted yourself to sit up. Slowly, your mind woke up from it's slumber then realization hit you.

You had that same dream again.

As if your brain is purposely scratching at parts you thought you had buried a long time ago somehwere in the back of your mind. It was cruel - seeing the way your own mind seemed to betray you every chance it got.

Everytime you finally seemed to get a good night's rest, it would be ruined halfway with your brain replaying that specific memory. The last memory you had of him.

It's ironic, really. During the day your mind must be too occupied with work-related topics so your brain waits until night-time to attack.

What's pathetic to you is how even in your dream you can't seem to find a response to his words. As if that was the only correct reaction - even though you knew you should've said something. But, instead, you stayed silent and he left. Completely left you. After millions of promises he had given you to stay by your side for eternity - even if one of you were to die first.

Now it's like he died. Not actually died, but his presence did. And when he did, he took everything with him. His voice, laugh, habits, even his scent. You had forgotten everything about him you once knew so well.

Pushing your heavily overthinking thoughts aside, you closed your work laptop. You've been working overtime at night non-stop just to get a stupid raise your boss mentioned earlier this month. Well, not entirely stupid. It was a much needed raise you wanted, you call it stupid because of the amount of work you put in just for your boss to notice you. It's pathetic, in a way.

Heading for the shower, you grabbed some clean clothes from your closet you had left open for the past week. Not bothering to close it even now, you eventually made your way to the bathroom with a headache slowly forming in your head.

Not even halfway out of the shower your mother decided to call you. She always had the worst timings for things like this.

With a towel wrapped around your wet and naked body you rushed out of the bathroom to grab your phone from your bedroom. You didn't even bother to look back at the wet trail of footprints you left behind you (it's a suprise you didn't slip).

With a sigh you dried off your one hand against the towel around your body and used it to answer the unexpected call from your mother.

"Y/N, sweetie! Why don't you call me anymore?" Your mother's concerned voiced echoed through the speaker of your phone against your ear and it made your eyebrows knit. That is clear evidence of why you don't like answering your mother's calls - she asks too many questions. Though, you knew it was out of love so you didn't really make a scene out of it.

"Hi to you too, mom," you grumbled in response as you made your way to the kitchen a few feet away from your bedroom. "And i've been busy with work. You know that."

"One call a week won't interrupt your busy schedule."

You could practically feel the frown on your mother's face on the other end of the line.

With the phone now rested between your shoulder and ear, you occupied your hands with making yourself a much needed cup of coffee.

"Whatever you say, mom," you said with a soft sigh before adding, "How are things there?"

"Same old, you know the drill by now, sweetie. Your father just started the new medication his doctor gave him yesterday, we just hope it works this time."

That made guilt chew on your insides. Suddenly, you regret not calling them more often when you heard your mother remind you about your dad's ill condition. Before you could reply you accidentally dropped the milk container on the floor. A soft curse managed to escape your mouth as you grabbed a nearby kitchen cloth to clean up the mess you just made.

"Aunt Jeon invited us for dinner tonight. I called to ask you if you'd like to join? Just to.. unwind a bit."

Your mother's voice sounded soft and genuine, it made your heart swell slightly.

Crouched down on the kitchen floor you managed to clean up the splatter of milk that had falllen onto the kitchen tiles.

"Mrs. Jeon? I thought they're on vacation?"

You didn't mind going to dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Jeon - infact, you loved it. Their house always had this certain presence of warmth which managed to take your mind off things a bit. After all, Mrs. Jeon did still see you as her daughter.. even after he left.

Your mother chuckled through the speaker. "They returned five days ago already. Is work taking over your life?" Though her voice sounded teasing, a hint of seriousness could be heard from her tone.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'll be there," you responded to the question she asked a few minutes ago and completely ignored the new question. Your mother wasn't stupid - she knew the truth, but she also knew enough to not push the subject.

"Okay, sweetie. I'll text you details of things you need to get at the shop. Be here at six. I love you."

The call ended just as you muttered "I love you" back. You now stared at a blank phone screen, your face reflecting from it. The bags underneath your eyes that were slightly visible only reminded you of your mother's words.

"Is work taking over your life?"

The words seemed to echo through your mind. Because she was right, it was taking over your life - you chose for it to be that way. You used anything as a distraction from the hole Jungkook had left inside of your chest. It's not like you haven't moved on - you did. Though, even if someone move on, and even if someone bury the memories far away they once had with that person, it never really leaves. It's still there, waiting to be unfold. Unfold by constant reminders of him.

One time you went on a date with a guy, really good guy at that. He was decent - a great job with a clean presence. He cracked one joke - one joke Jungkook had said once in high-school, and you left. Ghosted him after that. You figured the only way you won't be reminded of him was to work. Working yourself until your body begged you to sleep was the only solution.

You removed and deleted everything you once had of him. Gifts, photoframes - which used to be in your bedroom - photos on your phone, clothes which had his scent on. You forgot his laugh, his habits - but one thing stayed clear. And that was his face.

You'd see it every night when you managed to fall asleep, every morning being a reminder of how he left you years ago.

Nayeon, your best friend you made at work, had to find out the hard way about Jungkook. It happened when you got drunk at her place. What was suppose to be a relaxing girls hangout turned into a sobbing mess by the end of the night. The words you kept to yourself for so long finally bubbled out, one by one, in very specific detail. Nayeon listened to every word, comforting you as much as possible. From there on, you've labeled her as your best friend. She's the only person who truly listened after Jungkook left.

You enjoyed your coffee outside on the balcony (yes, with still just a towel on), before heading inside to actually get clothes on.

"No offense, Y/N, but you're twenty-five with no bitches. That's not really a flex," Nayeon's voice spoke up as the both of you browsed through the shop with a shopping cart. Her hand pushed her brown-colored hair back over her shoulder as she grabbed a bag of chips, throwing it into her own cart.

You frowned at that and pursed your lips. "And for what possible reason do I need bitches?" The annoyance behind your voice couldn't be covered - a clear reminder on how the topic of dating made you feel.

A scoff left Nayeon's red tinted lips. "Uhm, hello? To date? Go out? To actually stop working for once?"

Nayeon for sure didn't hesitate to give you the same amount of attitude you were about to give her.

You just shrugged, stopping in front of the section which contained a variety amount of spices. "I don't need a partner in order to go out. Besides, working is not that bad."

Your eyes scanned each spice carefully before grabbing the one named "STEAK SPICE."

A sarcastic hum were left in response by Nayeon and you silently prayed in your head for her to not continue whatever topic this was. You hate to be reminded of the fact that you're spending your weekends at home drinking an entire bottle of wine on your own.

"What happened to that guy you went on a date with anyway?" You casually asked as you pushed your cart to a different section - clearly trying to change the road this conversation were headed to.

Nayeon groaned and rolled her brown eyes. "Don't even remind me! He told me he wanted to keep it 'casual'-" she made quotation marks with her fingers before contuining, "- literally a day after hooking up with me. Who even does that?!"

You quietly chuckled at that. "Atleast you still got something out of it. Don't worry, there's many other guys who.." you thought for a moment before finishing, "Won't keep things casual after hooking up."

She atleast laughed at that, bumping her shoulder playfully with your own. "Yeah, right," she mumbled.

You grabbed a bottle of wine - you figured you'd need alcohol in order to actually make it through dinner tonight.

"I'm gonna go grab a few other things, meet me at the cashier?" Nayeon asked as she grabbed a bottle of wine for herself. You nodded in response before she walked away to a different section on the other side of the store, leaving the scent of her tropical perfume behind.

You figured you'd use this time to get the things you actually needed for the dinner your mom had invited you to earlier. You grabbed a few things - more spice, some basic ingredients you figured Mrs. Jeon could use, and some flowers. It would only be polite to bring flowers in apologies for not seeing them in a while, evidence of how work managed to take up all of your time.

Just as your hand reached out to grab the white roses that were displayed on a table, your movements got interrupted by another hand reaching out for the same flowers. Your hand pulled back and immediately your eyes went to the unknown person's face.

It was a girl. A beautiful girl at that - long silky black hair with feather bangs, smooth pale skin with not even a wrinkle or pimple in sight, her eyes were only complimented even more with the make up style she chose to do. Her fashion seemed foreign - not that your country had a specific fashion type it followed, but rather the different clothing brand's she was wearing gave it away that she was indeed not from around here.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention at all."

Even her voice sounded perfect. It was soft - almost delicate. It matched her face really well.

"I'm not quite from here, so I'm still trying to get used to everything.." She gave a chuckle and you could've sworn it sounded like music. A tune someone could listen to all day.

A reassuring smile flashed across your face and you immediately waved off her apology. "It's nothing. Here," you gently handed her a bouquet of the white roses. As her hand reached out to take it from you, a silver - what seemed like an engagement ring - flashed on her finger underneath the lightning of the shop.

"I hope you're enjoying your stay so far."

You made sure your voice sounded friendly, almost trying to copy the softness of her voice. It was the presence she gave off - the warmth her tone held in the depths of it.

The mysterious girl gave the same smile you gave her earlier, placing the bouquet of white roses into her own shopping cart gently to make sure not to harm any petal. With that action alone you could tell she's soft-hearted.

"It's a beautiful country. It's my fiancé's home country, actually. He just got back after a few years so I'm getting his family flowers to atleast look.. presentable. In a way," she gave an awkward laugh at that.

"Well, I'm sure they will love you. And congratulations on your engagement." You grabbed yourself a bouquet aswell, taking the last one on the table.

"Enjoy your stay," another smile appeared on your face. As if her presence alone could make anyone smile without them even knowing about it.

She thanked you politely before you decided to part ways from her. She sounded sweet - the complete opposite of what people around you normally sounded like.

By the time you finished paying for your own things you met Nayeon outside, who seemed to be busy talking to some random guy you've never seen before. You weren't really surprised - you knew the impact Nayeon had on guys. But somehow it still managed to amaze you just how many people stop to admire her beauty.

Quietly you made your way beside her, clearly not wanting to interrupt whatever conversation they were having. At the sound of your shoes against the pavement you cursed yourself mentally when the both of them looked your way. The last thing you wanted right now was to be introduced to someone you didn't know at all.

"Oh, Y/N! Perfect timing. This is Taehyung, he's one of my co-workers," her manicured fingers gestured towards the man - seemingly named Taehyung - infront of her. You looked at him, your eyes practically taking in every possible detail you could see from where you were standing. He was handsome - absolutely no doubt in that. He seemed to be on Nayeon's level when it came to physical appearance; angelic-like.

"Taehyung, this is Y/N."

His eyes met yours and an awkward smile formed on your face as he seemed to be doing the same thing you did. Your hand quickly moved on it's own to fix a few strands of hair hanging annoyingly over your eyes trying your best to look presentable.

Nayeon leaned your way a bit more. "He's single, by the way," she whispered into your one ear - and he clearly heard it as well with the way his face seemed to turn a shade of red.

You slapped the side of her arm softly and pushed her away using your shoulder. "Nayeon, I swear to God-"

"It's okay. Atleast you're pretty."

His voice sounded like honey - sweet with faint evidence of bitterness beneath it. His lips were now shaped into a boxy smile.

You just chuckled, clutching the shopping bag in your one hand tighter. "Uh, thanks?"

Nayeon practically face palmed herself at your response. It was clear that her way of playing "cupid" were not working. At all.

"Sorry, she's socially awkward and can't talk to guys-"

"Anyways," you interuppted her with an awkward and dry cough, but not without sending a warning glare her way. "I'd love to stay and talk about.. me being socially awkward-" you made sure to punctuate the words 'socially awkward' by gritting it through your clenched teeth, "- but I better get going before I end up late for my dinner plans."

It seemed like Taehyung opened his mouth to reply but Nayeon beat him to it. "Oh, right. I forgot about that. Text me when you get home, okay?"

And there it was again - the soft Nayeon you loved so much. A side (you've noticed) not many get to see.

"Ofcourse. You two have fun."

With one final, tight hug from Nayeon you waved them goodbye and then proceeded to leave towards your car that were parked in the parking lot - just a few feet away from them.

The dinner weren't suppose to start in another two hours, but you really didn't feel like talking to another guy you'd potentially end up ghosting - again.

You promised yourself you wouldn't spend hours trying to choose an outfit (specifically infront of your mirror), but here you are. Two different dress options in hand.. in front of your bedroom body-length mirror.

The grey colored dress in your left hand caught your eye first. The delicate black flower patterns lightly visible on it only caught your attention towards it more. The only problem was the color. It was dull, almost boring - not to mention the fact that old people will definitely think it screams, "hey, i'm a depressed piece of shit who's still trying to figure out her life."

With a (maybe exaggerated) sigh, you threw the grey dress over your shoulder onto your bed. You needed to look good, needed to remind your parents and the Jeon family how 'well' you're doing with your life. How much you're enjoying your twenties. With that in mind, you figured the second white colored dress in your left hand wouldn't be such a great option too. You threw it next to the grey dress and then with a huff you made your way back to your closet.

You grabbed a simple pair of jeans with a beige colored shirt to go with it. It was just dinner, after all - you had absolutely no idea why you're making such a big deal out of it. Probably because you felt like getting dolled up in what felt like ages ago. You wanted to look pretty for once - do your make up, your hair and atleast get a good outfit to go with it. So, still with the jean and shirt thrown over your shoulder (incase you don't find anything else), you opened the other door of the closet which contained all of your dresses.

You scanned each one with a quick glance, taking in the variety of different colors and patterns. The lack of color in your clothes only reminded you how dull you were actually - and it reminded you to go do a shopping spree as soon as possible. Every single dress got thrown out of the closet in hopes of finding a bright colored dress somewhere, anywhere. You can't be lacking that much in fashion after all, right?

Determined to find a colorful dress, you noticed you have thrown almost every dress you own out of the closet, forming a pile of clothes on the floor next to you. You stood there in complete disbelief. You should've took Nayeon's advice a month ago when she ordered you to go shopping with her, but ofcourse, binge-watching Twilight seemed more appealing to you.

As you looked back at the closet a light pink color were slightly peeking out from the back. You don't recall owning anything by that color - let alone a dress of that sort. Curiously you reached out and grabbed the unknown fabric, somehow managing to pull it out from the back of the closet.

The moment your eyes got access to the full dress you froze. Your entire body went cold with realization and your knees felt weak at this very moment.

It was the dress Jungkook gave you as a present on your 19th birthday. Just a few weeks before he decided to vanish.

Your chest felt like it started closing up and you dropped the dress against the floor. You hated the way he still had this impact on you - the way you'd completely shut yourself down at memories or mentions of him. His presence was haunting you, eating you up alive from the inside and you couldn't do anything about it. You tried, God, you tried so incredibly hard to get rid of the effect he still had over you - the power he seemed to be holding over you without even knowing.

You often question if he felt the same? If your laughter and the stupid jokes you used to make haunt him the same way? If it lingers to him like his own shadow?

Your body seemed to be moving on it's own - grabbing the dress harshly from the floor with a tear forming in your one eye. The amount of anger you suddenly felt made this situation even harder.

Absently you threw the dress into the kitchen bin, closing the lid with more force than necessary. You stared at it for a long time, questioning whether you just made the right choice for yourself. You have thrown everything away he once touched or gave you - but you must've forgotten about this one specific item. Yet, the thought of throwing this away, the last thing he ever gave you, made you question your decision even more.

Hesitantly and slowly, you opened the trash can and pulled the dress out. It was exactly still in the same condition from when you recieved it six years ago - no mark and not even a hole. Probably because you've never worn it before.

And then the idea hit you. This would be the perfect dress to wear for a casual dinner, wouldn't it?

Your white car parked slowly in the driveway of Mrs and Mr. Jeon's house. There were a few other cars parked on the property aswell, and it made you question if your mom told you the truth about this dinner. Perhaps they decided to invite some more people, family or even neighbors. You didn't seem to mind it though - luckily you decided to wear a decent dress with your make up and hair done.

Turning the car's engine off by using your key, you opened the car door with a deep breath. Why were you getting nervous all of a sudden? It's just dinner with a bunch of old people - who would most likely ask you about your plans in the future and what you plan to do with your life. No big deal.

As you got out of your car and locked it behind you, you couldn't help but be reminded of how the outside still looked exactly the same from how you used to remember it. The same house where you and Jungkook would run into after school, throwing your belongings on the floor and immediately head towards the living room to play video games. The memory made you smile unknowingly, and for a second, you were relieved you didn't feel anxious for once by the thought of him.

Preparing yourself mentally for all the questions that lies ahead, you started making your way to the front door. Your hand gripped the medium sized purse over your shoulder and everything suddenly felt warm as each possible (bad) scenario rushed through your mind.

Before your hand could knock on the door it swung open, revealing a very smiley Mrs. Jeon.

"Y/N! Oh my, you got so skinny. Have you not been eating?" She suddenly pulled you into a tight hug, but you didn't hesitate to return it.

You chuckled against her shoulder before the hug broke. "Just busy, Mrs. Jeon. Sorry for not calling lately."

She waved it off with a laugh of her own, locking her arm arounds yours in order to pull you further into the house. Immediately you got welcomed by the nostalgia the house held behind it's walls.

"Don't be sorry, sweet pea. I know life tend to get busy sometimes."

You loved that about Mrs. Jeon. She never pushed something out of you - she always made sure to take whatever answer she gets.

"Oh, right. I got you and Mr. Jeon this," you reached out and handed her the white roses.

Her eyes softened at the kind gesture, gently taking it from you and placing a big kiss to your cheek. "You didn't have to, honey. That's very thoughtful of you. I'll go put this in a vase and you can go grab yourself a drink, okay?"

With one last hug she left the entrance of the house and headed to what you remember is the kitchen. Your eyes took in the interior of the house - it still looked the same as before. Everything were placed in the specific spot they once were, just a few changes here and there. You decided to step closer to the wall which had portraits and photoframes on it. You saw one with Jungkook, laughing at a river with this brother and it earned a soft chuckle from you. He looked so young, so innocent - the same Jungkook you once knew.

And then your eyes went to the photo next to that one - a photo of you and Jungkook at a beach when you were six. The smile slowly faded on your face and the nostalgia in your eyes got replaced with pure hurt. The same question flooded your mind once again, "how could he leave you behind after everything?"

Not wanting to spoil the evening even before it started you pushed every thought aside which had Jungkook in them, cleared your throat, and walked away to greet the people.

Greeting the people who decided to show up this evening must've taken some toll on you because you found yourself in the kitchen, pouring your first glass of wine for the evening. With a sigh you took a big sip, letting the bitter taste burn your throat - a feeling you're well familiar with by now.

Just then your mother decided to enter the kitchen with a bunch of gifts in hand. It made you frown, is it someone's birthday or something? Taking another sip of your wine you gently placed the wine glass onto the counter.

"Is it your birthday?" You teased with a smile and a chuckle. Your mother just gave a playful laugh at that and placed the multiple gifts in gift bags somewhere on the dining table. The way she fell silent suddenly made you question the situation even more.

"Not necessarily. Have you eaten something yet, sweetie?" You weren't stupid - you knew she's changing the subject for God knows what reason. But you decided not to push it, you'll find out eventually.

"Uh, not yet." Another sip of wine.

Your mother sent an unpleasant look your way before smacking your shoulder gently from the back. "Go eat something. There's snacks in the living room."

The tone in her voice left no room for debate so with a huff, you grabbed your wine glass and walked towards the living room.

In the living room there weren't alot of people but enough to make you want to go back home. The only people you actually knew were your parents and the Jeons. You walked carefully in order not to engage yourself in any conversation with the unknown faces around you, making your way towards the coffee table which had different snacks on plastic plates. You took a pretzel and then a sip of wine, using the alcohol to calm your mind a bit.

"I can't believe he's finally returning. It's about time, his mother were really starting to miss him.."

Your ears accidentally seemed to have caught the sound of some old lady's voice behind you. You weren't sure what or who they meant, so you remained silent and continued chewing on the pretzels.

Their conversation got cut off with the doorbell ringing but you didn't bother looking towards the direction. Instead, you remained near the coffee table with your wine.

Mrs. Jeon went to open the door, and as soon as it did, she started crying.

Now, ofcourse you would get curious. You look towards the direction (and noticed literally everyone else around you were looking at the front door) and holy shit.

You dropped your glass, causing it to shatter into a thousand different pieces around your feet. You didn't budge, didn't even make a sound. You couldn't - because, standing a few feet away from you - were him.

Jeon fucking Jungkook.

At the sound of the glass loudly shattering on the floor he turned his head towards the direction - your direction. Your eyes locked and everything suddenly changed. The anger you once had for him slipped away at an instant underneath his gaze.

They still believe, or they just keep pretending, that this isn’t a serious issue. That the haters, the people who genuinely despise Jimin, are simply shippers being weird. And honestly, that’s absolute nonsense. The people who think like that, or worse, say those things out loud, are a huge part of the problem. They are the problem. Not the shippers, not even the haters entirely, but the so-called fans who sit there and do nothing while all this happens. The ones who’ve allowed this group of people to grow and take up so much space, to gain so much power within the fandom. The power they use for one thing only: hating Jimin. Because let’s be honest, they don’t use that power for anything else. Not to support their supposed faves, not to boost charts, not to do anything remotely positive. They only use it to tear someone down. And that someone is always Jimin. It’s pathetic. It’s disgusting. It’s infuriating to watch the same thing happen again and again. The same cycle is repeating itself endlessly.

Every single time there’s drama or negativity around one of the members, it always ends up being Jimin who gets dragged into it. Always. Especially when it’s about Jungkook or Taehyung. Every damn time. And we really need to talk about that. I’m not blaming Jungkook or Taehyung; they’ve got nothing to do with it, but I am blaming the people who claim to be their fans. Because the ones doing this are always the same people. They’re the ones who say they’re a fan of one of those two, or even worse, they call themselves fans of the ship involving them.

And you know what’s worse? Everyone sees it. Everyone knows it’s happening, but they act like it’s not real. Like it’s just shippers’ drama or people being dramatic online. No. It’s not. It’s bullying. It’s targeted hate. And it’s been going on for years. And the fact that people just watch it happen, say nothing, and even justify it, says everything about what this fandom has turned into.

This fandom is hypocritical. It’s dishonest. It’s rotten at the core. People talk about love and unity and supporting all seven, but when it comes down to it, they only care about some of the members, and even then, they only care about their own little delusions. Everything else is expendable to them. They don’t want peace; they want control. They want to decide who gets love and who gets hate.

You all claim to support all seven members, but you do absolutely nothing when it comes to defending Jimin. You don’t say a word on your socials, you don’t speak up, and it’s even worse when you’re running big fan accounts. If you have a large platform and you’re not calling out the treatment Jimin gets almost every single day from a group of people in this fandom, then you’re part of the problem. Staying silent is part of the problem. Not saying enough is part of the problem. If you stay quiet, you’re still part of it. Silence makes you complicit. Pretending it’s not your issue doesn’t absolve you. Not doing enough, not saying enough, not caring enough, all of it feeds the same cycle.

How is it even possible that between yesterday and today, I’ve already seen at least two big pro-Jimin and pro-Jikook accounts suspended on Twitter? Why? Because they were reporting that insane woman who literally went all the way to Korea just to spread hate at Jimin’s dad’s café. And I haven’t seen a single major BTS account - NONE - speaking up about it. Not one.

At least not on my timeline. Maybe they exist, and if they do, please send me the link, because I’ve seen nothing. Nothing. The only people I’ve seen talking about it are Jikookers and Jimin-focused fans, the ones who are actually doing something, reporting, speaking out, trying to stop this madness.

Meanwhile, the big BTS fan accounts, the ones who claim to protect the group, have stayed silent. Completely silent. And that says a lot. Actually, no, it doesn’t just say a lot. It says everything.

You know how so many fans love to guilt-trip others for not buying enough albums, not streaming enough, not watching music videos as much as they “should”? They act as if you don’t do all that, you’re a bad fan, a fake fan, someone who doesn’t really care. They treat being a fan like it’s a full-time job. Well, those same people should be the first ones to speak up, to complain, to call things out when one of the members they supposedly support is being treated horribly online. They should be the first to reject, to kick out the ones spreading hate in the fandom.

But they don’t. Oh sorry, correction, they don’t when it’s about Jimin.

When it’s about Jimin, suddenly you only read: it’s “just shippers,” or “it’s not that deep,” or “he’s not even online, he’s not seeing any of it.” When it’s about Jimin, it’s always “calm down,” “don’t overreact,” “don’t overanalyse.” When it’s about Jimin, it’s always “oh, but he’s such a good person, he’d understand if another member won this or got that.”

When it’s about Jimin, it’s always excuses. Always minimising. Always silence. When it’s about Jimin, people suddenly want to be peaceful, mature, quiet and rational. But when it’s about another member? All bets are off. It’s chaos. It’s outrage. It’s hashtags and mass reports and articles written about it within hours. But not for Jimin. Never for Jimin.

When it’s about Jimin, everything goes quiet. That’s when big accounts suddenly decide to “take a break.” That’s when some of them mysteriously “get sick” or “need to focus on their mental health.” That’s when they vanish. Every. Single. Time. When it’s Jimin, there’s always a but. There’s always a pause. There’s always silence.

But not from the Jikookers. Not from the actual Jimin fans. Not from the people who genuinely care about him and about the group. Because we’re still here. We’re still speaking up. And yes, that includes Jimin fans who also love the group. That includes Jikookers who defend Jimin and also support everyone else. Because those people, we are the real fans. Maybe we don’t buy a million albums, maybe we’re not streaming robots, but we defend Jimin online, we protect him, we protect the others too, as best as we can.

That, that, is what being a real fan actually means. And the rest of you? Honestly, you can fuck right off.

The reality is ugly. The fandom has become taekooker. That’s the truth, as simple and as ugly as it is. It’s full of people who pretend to care about the group but spend their time spreading hate towards Jimin. And it’s not just sad anymore, it’s revolting. Because they’ve made this environment so toxic, so unbearable, that it’s no longer fun to be here. You can’t even enjoy being a fan without seeing some ridiculous post dragging Jimin for absolutely nothing.

The problem isn’t being a fan of Taehyung and Jungkook or being fan of the ship. That’s not the issue. The problem is that those shippers are absolutely vile. They’re disgusting. Some of the worst people I’ve ever seen online. Their favourite target is always Jimin. For them, it’s not about enjoying their ship, or having fun with whatever they imagine or create. No. For them, the most important thing is hating Jimin. Saying awful things about him. Making things up about him. Insulting him at every possible moment.

Being a Taekooker isn’t about loving Jungkook and Taehyung. It’s about hating Jimin. And that’s the problem.

So yeah, I’m angry. Because it keeps happening. Because no one with any real influence ever calls it out. Because everyone prefers to pretend it’s not that deep. But it is that deep. It’s cruel. And it’s exhausting to see the same people being protected while Jimin is constantly treated as the scapegoat.

you stood up from your bed, leaving your freshly cleaned room— traveling downstairs. you met with a familiar face as you walked into the kitchen. “heyyy!” your brother, hoseok, dragged out. “i thought you were still sleeping.” he walked over to you, handing you a cup of coffee.

“oh no, i was cleaning.” you smiled, taking the coffee from his hands. “about time.” he scuffed, you hit him lightly. he pouted slightly, before swatting at your arm and walking away.

you giggled to yourself at the interaction. it was nice to live with your brother again, especially in a house as nice as this one. it was practically a mansion— there was nothing to complain about

well… except for one thing.

kim namjoon.

he was a hell of a man. he portrayed himself as a leader, caring, always taking initiative, yet gentle. and he really, truly was.

but there was something only you and namjoon shared. just a few years ago at a party hosted by jackson wang, you both got very stoned— having the best night ever. after many hits and drinks later, your night was a blur. but the next day, he was there to remind you how well you did… how good you took him.

everytime since then, that you’ve caught eye contact with namjoon, it’s all you could think about. it always crossed your mind if he did as-well.

“good morning.” a raspy voice called out from behind you. you turned to see yoongi, looking half asleep with the hood of his hoodie over his head. you grinned, “it’s 1pm.”

“so?” he cocked his head. all you could do was laugh, he was always a bit stubborn upon waking up. “want me to make you some coffee?” you asked, before sipping on your own. “would you?” his eyes glowed, face lighting up. “of course.” you replied, going to make his coffee just the way he liked it.

after it brewed you added some ice, along with a bit of milk. he didn’t like it sweet, but he always enjoyed the creamy taste of the milk.

you walked over to the bar stool he sat at, at the end of the island table. “here you go.” setting the cup down.

he lifted it to his mouth, taking a small sip— before tsking. “it’s perfect, like always. thank you y/n.” he smiled up at you. “you’re welcome.” you ruffled his hair, sitting down next to him.

but you heard footsteps approaching, tilting your head up. it was namjoon, his eyes locked with yours immediately, you noticed something different. a shift in his eyes you didn’t see before. lately he’s been acting strange around you. he’d bump into you on purpose, but not apologize— just walk away. then on other days, he’d avoid you completely. acting like you didn’t even exist.

but in that moment as he stared at you. you felt it. just like you felt it before.

“don’t mind me.” he mumbled out, shifting his body towards the fridge. you silently watched as he pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, hand in his hoodie pocket. looking just so, perfect.

jungkook then entered into the kitchen, “wow did i miss something, everyone is in here.” he joked, smiling over at me. yoongi huffed, face still in his phone.

“well i have some news for you guys.” he came over to the island counter, leaning on it. yoongi looked up from his phone, “hm?”

“jackson invited us to his party tonight.”

oh no.

just hearing that sentence felt like deja vu, the memories immediately replaying back in your head. you looked over at namjoon, his body stiff at the kitchen counter, back turned to you. “i’ll let everyone know, he said to be there by 10pm.” jungkook said before hurrying out the kitchen.

yoongi then sat up, “i’m gonna get ready for the day, see you guys later.” he muttered.

you sat still on the chair as namjoon now moved around the kitchen. you weren’t sure what to do… should you go? but what if you start reminiscing of that one night? what if it happens again? no, it’ll be better just to stay in the comfort of your own bed.

“are you gonna go?” his raspy voice spat out, turning his body to face you.

you blinked at him, gulping slightly “me?”. he looked around, before back at you— chuckling lowly. “yes you.”

you stood up straight in your chair, “i’m not sure.”

“oh come on, it’ll be fun.” he moved closer to you. he slowly placed his hands on the island infront of you, his veins pulsing. “just like you remember.” he whispered out, looking down at you. you felt frozen, unable to move, unable to blink— just captivated by his gaze.

his eyes roamed all over your face, before backing up from the counter and walking out of the kitchen.

•••

it was later that night, you contemplated actually going to this party. rummaging through the closest to find something at least half decent. suddenly, a knock at your door. “come in!”

it was yoongi, he came in looking around the room.

“you excited?” he asked, walking over to you.

looking at him with a worried expression, “can i be honest?”

he furrowed his eyebrows, “yeah, what’s up?” he said concerned, sitting at your vanity chair. sighing, you moved towards your bed— sitting down. “remember last time i went with you guys to jackson’s party, years ago.”

he nodded, listening attentively.

“and the thing i told you that happened…”

his eyes widened. he forgot about it, i mean it’s been years, of course it was only on your mind.

“no shit… that’s why you’ve been acting weird all day.” he laughed, covering his mouth. “yoongi stop, i’m just… it’s been weird between us lately and we had a moment in the kitchen once you left. i’m so nervous.”

“you’ll be fine, just don’t do it again. now that you live with us, if hobi ever found out it would ruin everything.”he leaned back in the chair.

you took his words deeply. yoongi was right. although namjoon is so captivating, you couldn’t give in. not again.

he tapped on your shoulder before walking towards your door, hand on the knob. “just enjoy yourself tonight, don’t let it stress you out.”

•••

walking down the main stairs you slung your purse over your shoulder, all the boys hovered by the front door. “finally.” jimin smiled, checking his watch. “just in time.”

you playfully shaked your head before locking eyes with namjoon, running a hand through his hair as his eyes roamed your body.

his jeans wrapping tightly around his muscular thighs, the shirt slightly unbuttoned— showcasing his collarbones. it was making you regret saying you’ll go.

“y/n can ride with me, hobi’s car will be too packed.” namjoon huskily said. yoongi looked up at you, still on the stairs. he knew this wouldn’t be a good idea.

“perfect, i’ll come with.” yoongi smiled at joon.

he clenched his jaw before looking back at me. “sounds good.” his voice was betraying him. it was obvious he wanted you alone.

•••

the car ride was silent, you laid back in the passenger seat, crossing your legs. yoongi rested in the back just on his phone. joon had his left hand on the steering wheel, and right hand on the center console.

he picked up his phone, placing it on your thigh. “pick a song.” his deep and raspy voice was making you feel things you didn’t want to right now. “it’s okay— you’re driving.” you half smiled, going to give him back his phone. but his hand held onto yours, putting it right back onto your thigh. holding his fingers there for a tad bit too long, “i said pick a song.” his index finger dragged across your exposed skin, slightly trailing under your dress before moving it back to the console.

he was playing a dangerous game, and he knew that. he knew he was getting under your skin, taking this risk all over again. but he couldn’t help himself. namjoon missed the night you two shared so eagerly, gripping at each others skin, moaning each others names, so… so deep inside you. it’s all he thought about the whole car ride

he pulled up at a liquor store, putting the car in park.

“i’m gonna get a bottle for the party, you two want anything?” he looked at you, then yoongi. “scotch whiskey would be great.” he spoke, head still down in his phone.

namjoon opened his door, and walked out.

you turned to yoongi, “did you see that?” you breathed out, hands clutching the back of the seat. “see what?” he put his phone down. “his hand- HIS HAND. he like dragged it on my thigh.” your voice was shaky. not from fear, not from nervousness— but pleasure. and that was the worst. you can’t be feeling like this, not again.

he rolled his eyes, “he’s doing it to tease you, just don’t give in.”

“you don’t think i’m trying?”

“are you that sex deprived?” he joked, raising an eyebrow.

maybe you were, maybe, just maybe that’s why you felt like this. or… you really missed his hands on your body.

a few moments later joon came back, three bottles in hand. one of them, your favorite vodka brand. eyes creasing, “how’d you know?” he let out a little chuckle. “it’s all you drink.” he said passing the whiskey to yoongi, and setting the other two bottles on your lap.

you gulped deeply. this is gonna be a long night.

•••

you finally arrived at the party, the three of you walking inside together. it was packed, full of people you didn’t recognize. following behind yoongi, he led you guys to the kitchen— where you saw the boys with jackson. “what took you guys so long?” taehyung scuffed, lifting his glass, clearly already tipsy.

jackson looked over, his smile gleaming as he saw you. “oh my god no way it’s y/n.” he jumped up, rushing over towards you. his hands finding your waist and pulling you in. “it’s been so long.” he whispered in your ear, you lifted your arms around his neck— holding him. “too long.” you chuckled.

he held you there for a good moment before pulling away, and saying hi to yoongi and namjoon.

joon’s eyes hung low, he watched the interaction between you and jackson. jealousy pulsing through his veins. why did he grab your waist so seductively? he wanted it to be him touching you like that, bringing that smirk to your lips.

you walked farther into the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink. opening the bottle namjoon bought for you. looking around you grabbed a soda can as a chaser.

after a few shots you felt better, more loosened and less anxious. you swayed your body to the music, letting go of the stress you’ve experienced lately. you made your way to the living room, closer to the dj. hair flipping, arms swinging, you felt amazing.

this is what you needed.

you felt fingers around your bare shoulder, pulling onto you slightly. turning your head you see jackson— a smile plastered on his face. “heyyy!” you shouted over the music. he pulled you closer by your arm, whispering in your ear, “can i dance with you?”

you nodded, smirking.

he wrapped his hand around your back, pulling you flush against him. “your night going good?” he murmured close to your face. “yeah, i’m feeling good.” shaking your head with a giggle. he chuckled out, “i couldn’t take my eyes off you… the way you were moving.” he teased, pulling you even closer against his tight body.

your cheeks flushed slightly, “oh really?” lowly said. he nodded, licking his lips ever so slowly. you ran your hand up the back of his neck, tilting his head. “is that why you came to touch me?”

the alcohol took over you completely. your sex deprivation reaching an all time high. you couldn’t help but tease him. jackson’s fingers dug into your back at your words, letting out a low groan in your ear. the lights flashing, and music blasting around you both making this moment so much more intimate and intense.

out the corner of your eye you saw namjoon, storming over, his eyes red, hair tussled.

he grabbed onto jackson’s shoulder, pulling him away from you— making him stumble back. “come with me.” his voice raging of jealousy. “dude what the fuck?” jackson scuffed, fixing his shirt.

but namjoon instantly tugged onto your wrist, dragging you away. you looked back at jackson’s puzzled face before turning to joon. “what is your problem!” you yelled, trying to get out of his grip, but his hand was wrapped so tightly around your wrist.

he led you down the familiar hallway, opening an unlocked room and throwing you inside— locking the door behind him. you stumbled, “what the hell is wrong with you?” throwing up your arms.

“no, what the hell is wrong with you?” he moved towards you, gripping your wrist again. “you think it’s funny making me jealous?” he hissed, his face only inches away from yours. “i-“ you were silenced by his body pressing onto yours, roughly pushing you into the wall. “i don’t get it…” he whispered, pushing the hair out of your face, “the way you dressed tonight, how you acted this morning, if i make you so horny why not just tell me?” his breath fanned out across your neck, before his teeth sunk into your skin. causing a guttural moan to escape your lips, hands gripping onto his shirt.

he smirked against your neck, kissing the bite to sooth the pain. “you missed me, you missed this.” he breathed out in-between kisses. “didn’t you?” he asked.

you tried to speak, but another moan left your lips as he sucked on your sweet spot under your ear. “answer me y/n.” his hand snaked up your body.

“y-yes…” groaning out, “good girl.” his fingers dug into your skin, pulling you into his arms— and laying you on the bed. his mouth moved fast, put his hands faster. his lips ran down your neck to your exposed chest, leaving wet kisses everywhere— claiming you as his. hands roaming up and down your torso, before sliding up your thigh slowly yet firmly. making sure he took his time with you.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this…” he spoke into your skin, now looking down at you as he propped himself up on his forearms. “seeing you walk in the kitchen late at night only wearing an over sized hoodie…” he cupped your face. “seeing your panties as you bent over to pick something up…” he swallowed your lips, kissing them passionately. “it took everything in me not to just fuck you right there.” his forehead pressed against yours.

his knee waged it’s way between your thighs, spreading them apart. “so take me… take me now.” you muttered. he softened his eyes on you, “don’t say that, i won’t hold back.” caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“so don’t.”

you were such a tease. he took no time sliding off your dress, he pulled you roughly down to the end of the bed— flipping your body over.

pulling down his pants as you arched your back for him. “fuck.” he groaned out just viewing your ass. his hand traced over your underwear before slowly slipping them off. he took his middle and ring finger to your slit, sliding up and down. “you’re dripping…” he hissed, cock growing bigger and bigger in his boxers. he stuffed his fingers inside you, curling them just the way you needed.

“you like that sweetheart?” he asked, trailing his hand down your bare back. you nodded with your face in the bed. his fingers went faster and faster, curling into your sweet spot making deep sounds escape your lips. sounding like heaven to him.

“please-“ you moaned out, gripping onto the bed, “i need you.”

“tell me that again darling.” he whined, already lining his cock up with your entrance.

whimpering, “please fuck me joon!”

he slowly worked his way inside you, every inch stretching you wider and wider. he hissed as your walls clenched around his cock, making it hard for him to not crumble already.

he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back and forward on his cock, his eyes focused on your lips gripping around it. “ssshit” he groaned, throwing his head back

he went faster, harder. his cock filling you up just right,

thrust thrust thrust

your moans filled the room, his sweat dampened chest leaned forward onto your back as he continued to drill you. “you’re so perfect, made just for me, just for this cock.”

his words threw you over the edge, arching your back further, his hand cupped under your stomach anchoring you against his chest, still fucking you senselessly. “you like that baby? being all mine?”

moaning out into the blanket, gripping the sheets— you nodded. “that’s my good girl, you’re taking me so well.” he praised, holding you tighter.

you couldn’t take the praises anymore, the feeling of his cock ramming inside you, so overstimulating. “still have that praising kink i see…” he lowly chuckled in your ear.

“j-joon…” you moaned out, “i-im close…”

“i know baby girl, hold out a little longer… let the feeling build up in your core.” he whispered, holding your throat from the back now. you clenched around his cock, ready to release, but you obeyed. letting the sensation build higher and higher.

his thrusts slowed, but remained hard and sensual. you were so sensitive— ready to burst at any second, you tightened even more around him. “fuck y/n.” he groaned, pushing you up right to finish fucking you standing up. “come on, cum as you watch yourself in that mirror.” he pointed to the one behind the bed, covering the whole wall.

you watched in the mirror as your body bounced from every pound, face hazy, hair a mess. completed ruined by him.

“let go darling, you can do it for me.” he murmured into your neck, leaving soft kisses. as his tip hit your cervix it was the final pushover, making you release all over his cock.

“that’s my good girl.” pounding you harder, hiding out your high as he came close to his. your legs shook underneath him, moving his hand to your clit— rubbing soft circles as he pulled out, cumming on your back. guttural moans leaving his lips. he ripped off his shirt, using it to clean you up. “you did so well sweetheart.” he murmured in your ear, holding you close. he started to leave kisses on your shoulder, moving his way up to your neck.

you stared at him through the mirror, chest still heaving. his eyes locked with yours— “look at how beautiful you are.”

you nearly melted in his grip again.

“let’s find you a bathroom.”

•••

he stood close cleaning you up better in the empty, dim lit, bathroom. his hands so gentle, making you forget how rough he just was with you. fixing your dress he looked down at you. “y/n…”

fluttering your eyelashes up at him you hummed, tilting your head.

“i don’t want it to be like this.” his hands rested on your waist.

“like what?” you asked.

“this. this weird fucking stage. y/n, i’m addicted to you. i’ve been for years.” his voice was low, yet needy. “i want you… i want you to be mine.” namjoon trailed his other hand up the back of your neck, filling his fist full of your hair— gently.

you gasped softly.

he smirked, pulling you in for a kiss. it was so passionate. his lips perfect for yours.

“i want you too but…” you leaned back, “my brother… it’ll cause a problem…”

“i don’t care what hobi thinks. i care about you, i want you to be with me… safe in my arms.” he spoke, lips brushing against yours. “joon…”

“i promise it’ll be worth it, i’ll show you y/n. i’ll be everything you need and more.”

•••

it was after the party, you, yoongi, and namjoon sat in the car. joon was bare chested since he dirtied his shirt cleaning his cum off you. yoongi side eyed him over and over, before finally speaking up. “so… where’s um… your shirt?” he nearly giggled, very drunk.

“uh, i spilt alcohol on it.” he lied, gripping the steering wheel tighter as the moments he had you completely undone under him pulsed through his mind.

“mhm…” yoongi hummed out suspiciously, leaning back into the seat.

•••

finally, home. you were exhausted, not just from the party, the alcohol— but, getting absolutely fucked by namjoon.

your hands were on the stair railing, before someone called out your name. you turned to see yoongi. “what?”

“don’t tell me you did what i think you did.” he came closer, now walking up the steps with you. “well…” — “Y/N!” he hit your arm. you quickly shushed him, hitting back. “yoongi stop it.”

“y/n that’s bad… oh god…” he clenched his shirt, face distorted. “you’re overreacting… he really does like me, you can’t change fate.” you whispered, now reaching your bedroom door.

Chapter 1: The Wrong Number

The late spring wind swept gently through the streets of Seoul, carrying the hum of the city — busy, alive, and endlessly moving. The sky was the color of soft porcelain, scattered with clouds that threatened rain. Inside one of the towering glass buildings in Gangnam, the air felt heavy with sound — the low thud of bass, the synchronized rhythm of feet striking polished floors, and the soft repetition of breath.

It was practice time again.

For the world’s biggest band, BTS, there was never truly a pause.

“Let’s take five,” Namjoon said, his voice calm yet edged with exhaustion.

Jungkook sank to the floor, his damp hair clinging to his forehead. His chest rose and fell quickly, the aftertaste of adrenaline and perfectionism still lingering.

“You’re overdoing it again,” Jimin muttered, tossing him a water bottle.

Jungkook caught it without looking up, uncapping it with a small chuckle. “If I stop, I’ll fall behind.”

Taehyung plopped down beside him, his laughter echoing through the mirrored room. “You’re the golden maknae, Kook. Falling behind isn’t in your vocabulary.”

Jungkook smiled softly, but his eyes were distant. The rhythm of applause and camera flashes still rang somewhere in his chest — both comforting and suffocating.

Later that night, the dorm was quiet.

The others had retreated to their own corners — Namjoon scrolling through lyrics, Jin humming softly while making late-night snacks, Hoseok scrolling through photos, Jimin and Taehyung arguing playfully over a game.

Jungkook sat on the balcony, the Seoul skyline blinking like a restless heart. His phone buzzed, lighting up with a familiar contact.

> 엄마 (Eomma)

He smiled faintly before answering.

“Eomma,” he greeted, his voice immediately softer.

> “You sound tired, Jungkook-ah. Are you eating well?”

He chuckled. “I’m fine. We’re practicing for the next comeback. You know how it is.”

> “You work too hard. Don’t forget you’re still my son, not just the world’s Jungkook.”

His throat tightened slightly. “I know, Mom. I’ll visit soon, I promise.”

As the call ended, Jungkook leaned back against the cool railing. He could hear the faint laughter from inside the dorm — his brothers, his family in another form.

He was grateful. But somewhere deep down, he felt a quiet ache — a longing for someone who would see him not as Jungkook of BTS, but just... Jungkook.

Far away, under a similar spring sky, Lina was working late in her small but cozy boutique. The walls were pinned with sketches, fabrics, and threads in every imaginable color. The faint scent of lavender floated in the air.

Her sewing machine purred as she stitched the final seam of a new dress. She stopped only when her mother’s voice echoed from the kitchen.

> “Lina, aren’t you going to sleep? You’ve been at it all day again.”

She smiled tiredly. “Just one more piece, Mom.”

Her mother sighed, affection in every sound. “You’ll wear yourself out one of these days.”

Lina brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, glancing at the half-finished dress. It wasn’t perfect — but neither was she. Yet she kept going, driven not by praise, but by quiet purpose.

When she finally switched off the lights, she sat by the window with her phone. Her favorite playlist played softly — mostly BTS, mostly him.

Jungkook’s voice filled the small room, deep and warm.

“Still With You.”

She smiled.

Her favorite member. The one she admired not just for his talent, but for the way he gave his whole being to everything — singing, dancing, smiling. She had watched him grow for years, his dedication mirroring her own.

Sometimes, it felt strange — this connection with someone she’d never met. But music had a way of crossing oceans, didn’t it?

Over the years, she had taught herself Korean. At first, it was just curiosity — learning phrases from lyrics. Then it became passion.

By now, she could read, write, and even speak fluently. Sometimes, she joked to herself that she could live in Seoul without a translator.

That night, while scrolling through Instagram, she stumbled upon an account that caught her eye.

The profile picture was minimal — just a city skyline at sunset. The username was simple:

> @jk_still_97

The posts were oddly aesthetic — glimpses of sneakers, coffee cups, studio lights, and once… a familiar tattooed hand holding a microphone.

Her heart skipped. It can’t be real, she thought. Probably a fan account.

But something about the captions — short, poetic, quietly thoughtful — felt different.

She hesitated for a few minutes before typing a small comment in Korean.

> “You write beautifully. Your words feel… warm.”

She didn’t expect a reply.

But minutes later, her phone buzzed.

> @jk_still_97:

“Thank you. Not many notice.”

Her heart thudded.

Something about that reply felt real.

Out of curiosity — or perhaps a pull she couldn’t explain — she sent a private message.

> “Sorry if this sounds silly, but are you the real Jungkook?”

The reply came after a long pause.

> “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Lina laughed softly to herself.

> “No. But I’d like to.”

He sent a smile emoji.

> “Then let’s just talk as strangers. No names. No expectations.”

And that’s how it began —

Find me here Masterlist Wattpad . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Unworthy, a disgrace, a witch, a harbinger of misfortune.

Such names were all you were given, born from a poor family. Your family considered you a disgrace to them all.

The day you were born, your mother also died, and your father, to your misfortune, began to harbor envy towards you. He was a farmer, and since your birth, his business in agriculture went low. All the crops were destroyed due to the cruel climate or a new disease spreading all over the kingdom.

Your father always saw your very existence as a curse upon your family, as his business in the farm went low, he became infected by a disease and died, leaving you and your elder brother the only ones to survive. The only family you had to call your own was your brother, but even then, he hated you and saw you as a 'disgrace' within the family. He envied and detested you, as he thought you were the reason behind your parent's deaths.

The villagers, aware of your family circumstances, whispered behind your back, calling you a 'witch'. They spoke as if you were responsible for the death of your mother during birth, and the illness that befell your father, eventually leading to his death.

Your heart sank deep, weighed down by immense guilt and pain. You couldn't fathom why all of these misfortunes had befallen you. You never longed for any of it, never wishing for your family to suffer. All you ever wanted was for your family to be blissfully happy, but it seemed like the universe had other plans in store.

Your elder brother, burdened by the weight of the farm he inherited, believed that your presence was the cause of the crops never becoming good. He wanted to expel you from the house, but he knew that at the age of only 10, it was not possible, since he was already 19, a legal adult.

Every day became a source of torment for you as your brother relentlessly demanded that you learn how to cook, though you possessed no prior knowledge in doing so. Your father's elder sister, your aunt, was unwell due to the same disease infecting the town, and she made sure to instruct you on how to prepare meals.

However, it was not out of choice; your brother forced you to learn cooking and cleaning, hoping that it would appease him and make him happy.

As days passed, villagers continued to spread malicious gossip behind your back, claiming that the disease was due to your presence. Your brother felt powerless, unable to discard you from his house.

Slowly, the disease began to subside as the years went by, and you had just turned 15. Your brother, in his desperation, considered finding a man to marry you off to. However, no man in the entire town was willing to wed a girl deemed cursed with misfortune

Your brother traveled to the Amethyst Kingdom in search of a husband for you. He found a soldier, a man renowned for his skill and well-paid. The only caveat was that he was significantly older than you; he was 29 years old while you were just 15.

You had no desire to wed the man, but your brother's relentless forcing compelled you to go along with the arrangement, even though you did not want it.

You had hoped that marriage would bring happiness to your life, but your husband was cold and distant, constantly absent from home. Fearful of his ire, you refrained from seeking his attention. You didn't want yet another person to despise you for your supposed curse.

Your husband, Jung Ho Seok, was a soldier, and through him, you secured a job as a maid within the palace. Working there, you found solace in the company of your friends. Born without any affection or attention, your life had been steeped in sadness. But now, after marrying Ho Seok, you felt as though a new chapter was unfolding before you.

You caught a glimpse of your husband out on the training field, and you decided to use your break time to wander around.

Sera, one of the maids and your friend, mentioned to you, "Your husband is quite skilled with the sword."

You had met Sera after joining the palace staff and had become close friends, but you had never disclosed any details about your past life or how you were in the past, keeping those memories to yourself.

Your brother, Kim Jun woo, was relentless in ensuring that you never revealed anything about your family's background. Out of fear of being ridiculed and gossiped about, you silenced yourself, preferring to keep your past concealed and protect yourself from the whispers that trailed behind your back.

"How are things between you and your husband?" Sera inquired. She was older than you, soon to turn 20, whereas you were nearing 18.

It had been two years since you and Hoseok were married.Sera, observant as she was, could sense the strained dynamics between you two, even without you ever divulging any specifics. Hoseok seemed unbothered by your presence at the palace, even when you fell ill, as he was fixated on his duties to the kingdom.

"He treats me well enough," you responded in a soft tone. Though he might have been better than your own family, Hoseok would come home from work but say little to nothing. When you made a mistake, he never raised his voice, nor did he acknowledge your presence.

In hindsight, you should have expected this outcome, but secretly, you were relieved that he didn't bad mouth you or subject you to abuse.

"Have you heard about the King of the Lagia Kingdom? Rumors abound that he's a notorious womanizer, known for his ruthlessness. Some even say that he venerates the Lords of the Underworld, and others go so far as to call him a demon," Sera says to you.

You were aware of the reputation of the King of the Lagia Kingdom, as many whispered about his ruthlessness. Having subjugated numerous kingdoms, he now ruled over half the world, a fearsome conqueror. His invasion of your own kingdom had left both the citizens and the king itself paralyzed with terror.

You stole a glance at the soldiers training, and your eyes landed on your husband, drenched in sweat as he honed his skills. All you yearned for was a simple, peaceful life. With the war imminent, many would fall, but you just hoped your husband would return safely after the conflict.

----

There is your husband, laid down, covered in blood. Your eyes fill with tears as you look upon his lifeless body.

"You are a curse," a voice in your head screams. "A witch. You've now taken your husband's life, too."

"No! NO! NO!" you shout, desperately trying to shut out the voices.

Your brother, glaring at your behavior, sneers, "Y/N, pull yourself together. I had hoped that finding a husband would bring some positivity into your life, but clearly, it has only brought more misfortune. Instead of making things better, you've just become a living curse, a disgrace.

You've taken your husband's life, and it's clear that you're nothing but a burden to those around you" your brother says, each words feels a sharp knife being stabbed to your heart.

Your brother, after arranging your marriage to Hoseok, never bothered to visit or speak with you. When he heard the news of your husband's death in the war, he came to see you.

Now you were alone, your brother was married and had a pregnant wife to look after. He declared, 'I can't keep a witch in my house; she'll devour my child and my wife alive.'

His words struck your heart, causing it to throb painfully.

After the death of your husband, you started serving the New King as a maid, you continued your job. Despite knowing how cruel the King was, you still needed a job to survive.

----

The new King, Kim Taehyung sat upon the throne, looking down at the women gathered before him. All of them kept their heads bowed, trembling with fear in the presence of the ruthless king.

He scanned the women until his gaze settled on a particular woman. With a single word, "her," he commanded the guards to seize her and lead her into a separate room.

A smug smile played on the king's lips as he watched her being escorted away.

----

Taehyung gazes down at the lifeless woman lying beneath him, his eyes cold and unfeeling. She wasn't the one, he has many countless days and night to find the one. He hadn't found the one he was searching for. He had scoured half the world, determined to find his soulmate.

Taehyung had gone to great lengths, performing rituals and consulting witches, to ensure that his soulmate belonged to him and him alone. If anyone loved her, they faced dire consequences, often meeting their end.

Taehyung approached the main hall, where a royal meeting was in progress. Despite his relentless search, he had yet to find his elusive soulmate. The countless women he had been with turned out to be false leads, and even the witches he had consulted had betrayed him, leaving behind only a singular clue: his soulmate bore a birthmark shaped like the letter 'V'.

His gaze shifted to a woman emerging from the royal kitchen. Time seemed to stand still as he laid eyes on you

Taehyung had never seen you before, but upon spotting you, he was immediately intrigued. Your appearance suggested you came from a humble background, and he assumed you were a slave working in the palace.

He couldn't help but smirk as he continued to stare at you.

----

Taehyung commanded one of his royal guards to obtain information about you. They subsequently divulged that you had been transferred from one village to another, and that your parents had tragically passed away. Furthermore, they also informed him that your husband had also died, leaving you to face the world alone and without any support.

The mere thought of you having been married to someone else sent Taehyung's blood coursing with irritation. He despised the notion of you having been claimed by another man. Yet, he found a sense of satisfaction knowing that your husband had already met his end on the battlefield.

"Bring the woman to my chamber," Taehyung commanded the guard.

"But Your Majesty, she's a widow," the guard protested. He was familiar with the king's reputation as a womanizer, but the king had never shown an interest in women who were either married or widowed before.

"Do you have a death wish? Do as I say," Taehyung's voice carried a clear warning.

----

"What on earth are you doing? Let me go!" you scream as the guards forcibly drag you towards a room that obviously belongs to the king.

Terror grips your heart, your mind racing with morbid curiosity and anxiety as you have no idea what the king has in store for you. You desperately struggle to break free from their grasp, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

"Please, I've done nothing wrong! I beg you, release me!" you plead with tears streaming down your face.

You were hurled into the king's room, the door slamming shut behind you. Your entire body quivered as you laid eyes upon the man sitting on the royal bed, leisurely sipping his red wine.

Taehyung approached you, peering down at you while you were on the ground. "Tsk tsk. If only you hadn't struggled so fervently, my guards wouldn't have thrown you to the ground. You would've been tossed onto my bed by me instead," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm already married, please." you implored, desperation laced within your words.Taehyung tightened his grip on your hair, pulling you forcefully closer, causing you to wince in pain.

"Your husband is dead, darling," he smirked, his tone mocking. "You're mine now. You're not married anymore. You belong to me."

His dark eyes burned with an intense desire as he looked deeply into yours.

Taehyung roughly lifted you up and threw you onto the bed, towering over you as he looked down at your tear-streaked face. He traced his fingertips across your damp cheeks, causing you to flinch under his touch.

"Don't cry, darling," he purred, a sly smile playing on his lips.