fuck it, i was inlove and fuck you if i can't have us

You carefully open the trunk of the black SUV parked in front of your house while Jungkook, your best friend, helps you with your luggage that seemed heavy enough to be carrying a dead body. 

Used to how he likes to run his mouth when it comes to you, you completely ignore his sharp antics as he rearranges the pile of suitcases like Tetris blocks, making sure nothing will topple over during the trip.

“The hell shit are you carrying for a three-day beach trip?” Jungkook asked, catching his breath as he closed the trunk.

In your mind, you’re convinced it’s still too early to start bickering over nonsense, so you just simply raised your hand in the air for a high five, which he immediately accepted—a gesture that no matter what the situation is, you know by heart that Jungkook will never turn down.

As you walk toward the other car where your brother was in, Jungkook begins complaining again. Saying it’s unfair that your ridiculously heavy suitcase is riding in his brother’s car while you get to travel in Seokjin’s car with your brother.

The next thing you knew, he was already dragging you with him.

Jungkook has been your best friend for almost fifteen years now. He is the same age as you, and the two of you attended the same middle school, high school, and even the same college.

He is the younger half-brother of your brother’s best friend of more than fifteen years, Yoongi. Since both of your brothers are simply inseparable, the two of you are basically forced to hang out with each other when you’re young and you’ve been best friends since.

You and Jungkook may seem to squabble and banter all the time, but it’s just the way your friendship works. The level of your closeness can be compared to siblings.

People are always surprised when they’re finding out that the two of you are just friends. They’re always insisting that you would make the perfect couple since you’re about the same age and very close.

But the thought of being in a romantic relationship with Jungkook makes your skin crawl for two main reasons.

First, Jungkook is a known fuckboy who enjoys casual relationships with different girls, sometimes at once and seems almost allergic to anything serious or stable.

Second—and more importantly—you have secret romantic feelings for his brother, who is four years older than you. You’ve liked him since high school, and unfortunately for you, Jungkook knows about it. The only reason he keeps his mouth shut is because you threaten to cut ties with him the moment he tells anyone—especially his brother.

“Ready to go?” Yoongi asked from the driver’s seat before starting the car, following the silver SUV in front that belongs to Seokjin when all of you in the car hummed in response.

Hoseok, your older cousin—who is also part of your brother’s circle—sits in the passenger seat, while you and Jungkook occupy the back.

Hoseok starts a conversation over your recent breakup and tries to offer you some comfort while still keeping things light after hearing that your boyfriend of six months—now your ex-boyfriend—dumps you because he wants to “find himself.”

“I’m fine. It’s a good-riddance type of breakup, really. I don’t have enough energy to coddle his insecurities all the time—and I love pink way too much to be the man in the relationship,” you murmured, uninterested in the topic.

Everything you say is true.

The only thing hurting right now is your ego. This is the first time you’ve ever been dumped in your 26 years of existence. Not to be smug but you’re always used to guys doting over you.

You met your ex-boyfriend at the coffee shop across from your office. He happens to work around the same area. At first, you find him charming and cute—and he feels the same about you. That’s how the relationship started.

But eventually, you realized he is incredibly insecure. He constantly projects his lack of confidence onto you and always assumes you’re flirting with your coworkers behind his back. The only reason you lasted six months with him is because the sex was good.

As someone with absolutely zero patience for childish and immature behavior, it’s hard for you to understand where his insecurities are coming from. Thankfully, he ended things before you did.

Meanwhile, everyone around you—especially your brother Namjoon—is convinced you’re secretly depressed because of the breakup. That is also the reason why you’re currently in this car, following the SUV ahead carrying Seokjin, your brother, Seokjin’s brother Taehyung, and his best friend Jimin.

This three-day trip is supposed to be a celebration—Seokjin’s bachelor party.

He is a year older than Yoongi and older than the rest of the guys. With the wedding happening next week, and after more than fifteen years of friendship, it’s only natural that your brother and his friends are all part of this trip.

“Besides, me and your brother never really liked your ex-boyfriend, Y/N,” Hoseok confessed, still trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, me too. He’s weird,” Jungkook agrees from beside you, barely looking up from his phone. “I told you to stop dating guys your age.”

That comment immediately sparks curiosity from the two older guys sitting in front.

“You like younger ones?” Hoseok gasped a little over dramatic, turning slightly in his seat to look back at you.

“No—”

“She likes OLDER,” Jungkook cuts in before you can reason out for yourself, emphasizing the word, older.

You tugged his hair in annoyance, making him hiss in pain. Shooting you a glare while rubbing the spot you pulled.

Your eyes unknowingly drift toward the rearview mirror—and that’s when you catch Yoongi’s gaze on you.

He glances at the mirror, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking back at the road. The eye contact is quick, but it still makes your cheeks warm.

“Really? I didn’t know that,” Hoseok replied, amused with your preferences in guys.

“That’s because I don’t tell anyone.”

“About how old?”

“Umm… maybe four or five years, ah yes around that age gap” you answered your cousin as innocently as possible making sure to let Yoongi hear.

And you swear to God—you see the faintest smirk tug at Yoongi’s lips as you answer.

His subtle reaction sends a strange wave of nervous energy through your body, making you involuntarily press your thighs together as a jittery feeling settles deep in your stomach.

The car ride took almost three hours. You and Jungkook are drifting in and out of sleep in the back seat while the two older guys in front talk about random things the entire time.

Once the car is finally parked, Jungkook and Hoseok immediately start unloading the luggage, handing each suitcase over to its rightful owner. After making sure everything is out of the trunk and the car is safely locked, the group begins walking toward the resort and hotel Seokjin has booked.

While checking in, you keep bugging Jungkook about how hungry you are—and how ridiculously heavy your suitcase is—suggesting he should carry yours, earning several death glares from him.

Jimin and Taehyung soon joined the two of you while the older guys stayed behind to settle everything at the front desk.

Just like with Jungkook, you are completely comfortable with Jimin and Taehyung. They are both a year older than you. Taehyung is Seokjin’s younger brother, while Jimin is his best friend.

Back in high school, Jimin and Jungkook are both part of the dance club, and later he attends the same college as the two of you. He even shares a few classes with Jungkook, which makes your group naturally close and easy with each other.

Once checked in, everyone is sent to their assigned rooms. Seokjin makes sure to book them all on the same floor.

Namjoon and Hoseok share a room. Jungkook and Yoongi share another. Jimin and Taehyung are assigned their shared room as well.

Meanwhile, you and Seokjin each get separate rooms since you don’t have company with you.

Having a suite by yourself excites you, but there is one small issue—it’s a little farther away from the rest of the guys. While their suites are clustered together, yours sits at the far corner after turning left into a quieter hallway.

Before everyone part ways, Seokjin reminds the group that the yacht party will start at twelve, which also means lunch will be served there.

His friends really go all out for his bachelor’s party, renting a yacht for twelve hours starting at noon just for him.

You honestly have no idea what to expect. It’s your first time attending a bachelor’s party, after all.

Still, you convince yourself that nothing too inappropriate will happen, considering the people involved. Even though you are well aware that your brother’s friends are far from saints, you are also confident they’re not reckless either.

While getting ready for the yacht party, your hair dryer suddenly stopped working in the middle of styling your hair. Your suite has a built-in one but it’s the traditional hair blower that uses heat—yours is the heatless one, to prevent further damage on your ginger-colored hair that you’ve been maintaining for months now.

Annoyed, you grab your phone from the sink counter and text Jungkook, remembering that he uses the same one as yours.

You leave your room, dragging your half-open suitcase along the carpeted hallway on the way to Jungkook and Yoongi’s. Thankfully, you haven’t unpacked your suitcase yet, which makes it easier to bring the whole thing with you since you’re not even halfway done getting ready.

When Yoongi opens the door after you knock, the first thing you notice is his frowning face as he takes in the sight of you standing there in nothing but a bathrobe, hauling your huge suitcase.

“Uh… Jungkook’s there?” you asked when he doesn’t immediately let you in.

Without a word, Yoongi steps aside to give you space, and you walk in like you own the place. Meanwhile, before closing the door, he briefly looks down the hallway to make sure you aren’t being followed by anyone who might have seen you wandering around in just a bathrobe. Luckily, the corridor is empty.

As expected, Jungkook immediately starts bitching about you dragging your whole suitcase in their room. You just ignored him after reasoning out that it’s simply more convenient to finish getting ready in their suite instead of drying your hair here and then walking all the way back to your place afterward.

With three people sharing one bathroom, the process takes longer than expected. The delay eventually causes Seokjin to call Yoongi, asking where the hell everyone is.

As you fastened the large ivory ribbon around your half-ponytail, the two brothers kept calling your name relentlessly from outside the bathroom.

You stepped out with an annoyed expression, irritated at being rushed when you weren’t even fully satisfied with your appearance.

The moment you emerge from the bathroom, both men fall completely silent, eyes wandering on your fit.

You’re wearing an off-white ruffled bralette top with thin straps that hug your perfectly shaped breasts snugly, creating a soft cleavage. Paired with it is a long, flowy, tiered skirt in the same color, made of multiple soft ruffled layers that move gently as you walk. Underneath, you’re wearing plain white bikini bottoms in case you decide to swim later.

It’s moments like this that makes Jungkook wish he isn’t your best friend because you are completely his type and he will definitely hit on you.

If you weren’t always so open about how you feel absolutely nothing romantic toward him, he would probably risk everything just to get you into bed with him.

Meanwhile, Yoongi, even without an obvious reaction showing, couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Lunch is served on the yacht before the party officially begins. After eating, you hang out with the younglings—Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung on the lower deck while they roughhouse with each other like a bunch of overgrown kids.

A few hours after lunch, Seokjin’s bachelor party finally kicks off.

You’re a little surprised when a group of pretty ladies—dressed sexy but still appropriate—board the yacht just before it sails out to the open sea.

You soon learn that they are your brother’s present for Seokjin. They’re entertainers hired to keep the bachelor and his friends company.

It doesn’t take long for the yacht to be filled with loud music, laughter, and the chaotic energy of a group of men with raging hormones. Alcohol flows freely, and everyone is paired up with a pretty girl as a company.

You managed to slip away and choose to settle on the higher part of the deck alone, watching the party unfold below you like a scene from a movie.

Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung are long gone the moment the party started. They abandoned you without hesitation in exchange for the full bachelor-party experience. You cannot blame the guys and their hormones though.

You pulled out your phone and secretly recorded a video of Jungkook with a girl sitting comfortably on his lap while he flirts with her in a semi-drunken, delirious way. You make a mental note to use the video against him for later.

Your eyes eventually land on a familiar figure lingering near the edge of the lower deck.

Yoongi.

He stands quietly as he watches his friends party like crazy, slowly sipping his whiskey on the rocks.

You watch as he lazily twirls the glass in his hand, allowing the ice to melt just enough before taking another sip. There’s something about him that makes your breath hitch, the kind of presence that leaves you helplessly captivated by him and to every little thing he does.

A brunette, honey-skinned girl with stunning proportions stands nearby, keeping him company. They talk at a polite distance from each other, and every now and then you see Yoongi chuckle, wondering what could it be that she said to make him respond like that.

What really amuses you, though, is the complete lack of physical contact between them. In the middle of a bachelor party filled with flirting, drinking, and chaos, Yoongi looks like the most respectful man on the entire boat. The awkward sight between him and his companion makes you giggle by yourself.

You know Yoongi is stern with his boundaries, he isn’t fond of people in his space. During the time that he’s in a relationship with someone, his PDA is only limited to holding hands and grabbing waist.

But that alone isn’t enough to make you question his demeanor in bed, especially since you remember one of his ex-girlfriends drunkenly sharing intimate details about their time together with Yoongi to both you and Jungkook, making you want to experience it on your own.

Growing up, you watch Yoongi grow up too. For fifteen years, he and your brother are practically inseparable, which means you see him almost every day as well.

Over the years, you witness a few of his unsuccessful relationships. His last one lasted three years, and at one point you’re convinced he’s going to propose to her any day—until Jungkook casually told you that his brother ended things with his girlfriend.

That happened two years ago.

Since then, as far as you know, Yoongi hasn’t been with anyone. For two whole years.

For a long time, you assume it’s because he isn’t over his ex yet. But thanks to Jungkook’s constant reassurance that his brother is simply too busy with his job as a music producer. That makes you allow yourself to hold onto a quiet, ridiculous hope.

Maybe—just maybe—you still have a chance with the man who is four years older than you.

Eventually, the bachelor party winds down.

You spend the entire evening on the upper deck while the guys party below, thanks to the magazines stacked on the center table that kept you entertained.

When you finally check on them, the sight is disastrous. Everyone is completely wasted.

Taehyung and Hoseok are literally crawling across the floor. Seokjin drifts in and out of drunken sleep. Your brother looks only minutes away from passing out completely, and Jungkook is wandering around looking for you for some unknown reason, drooling slightly while muttering incoherent nonsense.

Yoongi is the only one who still seems remotely normal.

You have no idea how he managed to get all five men back to their hotel rooms easily. Meanwhile, you are stuck dragging Jungkook’s heavy, half-conscious body from the elevator to the suite he shares with Yoongi, and you feel like you might die halfway through the hallway.

Yoongi holds the door open for you as you guide Jungkook toward his bed.

Miraculously, the moment Jungkook reaches the room, he seems to regain a bit of consciousness. Without saying a word, he stumbles straight into the bathroom to take a shower.

You take that as your cue to leave.

After saying goodbye to Yoongi, you drag your heavy suitcase—the same one you brought into their suite earlier—back down the hallway toward your own room.

A few minutes after you leave, Jungkook steps out of the shower—still half-drunk—and makes his way to Jimin and Taehyung’s room.

Yoongi is left alone.

He’s about to set up his laptop and a few basic pieces of music equipment when his stomach growls in protest.

Rather than ordering room service, he decided to head down to the convenience store on the ground floor of the hotel.

As the elevator doors slide open, his eyes immediately land on you.

You’re standing near the front desk with your suitcase beside you, looking distraught and on the verge of tears. A staff member is speaking to you apologetically while a man stands nearby, clearly involved in the situation. In your hand, your phone is pressed to your ear as you attempt to call your brother, Namjoon.

“What happened?” Your head snapped on your side when Yoongi approached, placing an arm around your shoulders. His voice is calm, but his eyes are fixed on the receptionist, demanding for an explanation.

The staff quickly explains the situation.

When Seokjin booked the hotel rooms, the reservation system had been experiencing a major glitch. Because of it, your room had been double-booked. The man standing across from you had actually reserved the room weeks before Seokjin made the booking.

The staff members are deeply apologetic. They promised a full refund on your room and offered a fifty percent discount on all the rooms under Seokjin’s name as compensation.

Ordinarily, transferring you to another room would have solved the problem immediately, but luck isn’t on your side tonight.

Unfortunately, the entire hotel is fully booked—there isn’t a single spare room available.

The receptionist then offers an alternative, a complimentary stay at their sister hotel located about ten minutes away. Desperate and exhausted, you quickly accepted the offer.

Yoongi, however, reacts very differently.

“No,” he responded flatly while looking at the receptionist.

The single word is firm, almost cutting, as if the suggestion itself is ridiculous. Before the staff can say anything further, he simply adds, “We’ll figure it out,” and gently but decisively guides you away from the desk.

When you ask why he refused the offer, Yoongi only shrugs lightly.

“It’s not safe,” he explained. “Your brother will lose it in the morning if he finds out you moved to a different hotel.”

When the elevator returns to your floor, the two of you spend nearly an hour knocking on doors and ringing the phones of every one of the guys.

Too bad, everyone was far too drunk to hear anything. Not a single door opens.

With a quiet long sigh, Yoongi finally turns to you and offers the only solution left.

“You can stay in my room,” he mumbled, biting the inside of his cheek. “Jungkook’s in Jimin and Taehyung’s room anyway. He’s probably passed out with them by now.”

For you, it isn’t really a big deal.

You’ve shared space with Yoongi countless times before—just the two of you alone. Whenever your brother leaves the two of you in the living room while he steps out, or when you end up cleaning the aftermath of one of your or Namjoon’s birthday parties together, it has always felt normal.

Comfortable, familiar, but this time feels different.

Maybe it’s because Yoongi quietly insists on carrying your heavy suitcase. Or maybe it’s because, without saying much, he slips off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders when he notices that you’re still wearing your yacht outfit—one that leaves more skin exposed than the chilly hallway allows.

Whatever the reason is, something about this moment feels unfamiliar in a way the two of you have never experienced before.

The distance between your eyebrows slowly disappears when Yoongi tells you to sleep on the floor using the extra mattress and thick comforter he had just requested through room service.

For a moment, you had almost convinced yourself that tonight might turn into something special. After all, you are spending the night with your long-time secret crush.

That hopeful thought fades quickly when he casually reminds you that he is not much of an affectionate person and you’re not an exception for it.

An internal battle immediately begins in your mind—whether to protest or simply accept his rather cold offer. But the answer becomes clear just as quickly.

Yoongi is not Jungkook. You cannot act bratty toward him the way you do with your best friend. Yoongi, you’re certain, would not hesitate to throw you out of the room in the middle of the night if you pushed too far.

So you swallow your complaints.

After fixing your sleeping arrangement on the floor—though not without a bit of sulking—you pull a few things from your suitcase and head toward the bathroom.

You take a quick shower and go through your skincare routine, but halfway through it your stomach begins to growl with hunger. You are far too sleepy and tired to eat a full meal, but luckily you notice a bar of chocolate wrapped in a fancy red wrapper tucked among Jungkook and Yoongi’s skincare products on the counter.

Thinking that it’s just another snack Jungkook likes to stash somewhere in his things,  you open the chocolate and begin munching while continuing your routine.

Halfway through the bar, your sugar craving already feels satisfied. You neatly place the remaining bar at the far corner of the sink counter.

After brushing your teeth, you slip into your pair of black satin pajamas—soft and comfortably loose.

When you step out of the bathroom, the suite lights are already dimmed.

Yoongi is sitting on the far side of the room, his back partially turned toward you as he works on his laptop. A pair of headphones rests over his ears, and the glow of the screen illuminates the sharp lines of his face.

Yoongi has always had a deep passion for music. Both he and your cousin Hoseok often stay over at your house late into the night, working alongside your brother. Namjoon frequently helps consult their lyrics, given that he is a writer and currently works as the editor-in-chief of a large publishing company.

You have always found yourself mesmerized every time Yoongi was in his element.

Tonight’s not an exception, even after he dismissed you to sleep on the floor while he enjoys the luxury of the huge, comfortable bed.

You scoffed silently at your own thoughts before settling into the soft comforter on your tiny makeshift bed, scrolling through your phone.

A few minutes passed, and you noticed something strange. Your heart rate begins to climb slowly for no clear reason. You lower your phone and stare up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what is causing the sudden flutter in your chest. 

Instead, you just become aware of the faint beads of sweat forming along your forehead and the delicate line of your neck, trailing toward your collarbone. You feel hot even though the suite’s air conditioner is blasting.

You try to ignore the weird discomfort and decide to focus on falling asleep.

But no matter how hard you try to relax, you keep getting distracted by how warm your body feels. Without even realizing it, you even push the comforter away from your body in an attempt to cool down.

The strange feeling doesn’t fade. If anything, it only grows stronger.

You begin tossing and turning restlessly, unaware of how much the movement is starting to distract Yoongi from arranging the synth on the track he’s working on.

Fed up by distress in your body, you sit up abruptly and head straight for the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, you study your reflection. Your skin looks unusually flushed. You cup your face in both hands, surprised by how warm it feels. Your cheeks are deeply tinted red, your eyes glossy, and in a strange way your entire complexion seems to glow.

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on what exactly is happening to your body.

The warmth continues to build low in your abdomen, spreading through you in a way that makes your breath catch. You bite your lower lip as you feel a sudden, undeniable awareness of your own body.

A quiet gasp escapes you when the realization hits—you are aroused.

You squeeze your thighs together once you're certain of the wetness settling on the thin fabric of your underwear. Of all the times you get to be horny, it has to be tonight—when the only other person in the suite is Yoongi.

You pondered for a moment if you’re entering your ovulation phase but being the person you are, you don't usually track those kinds of things.

Brushing off the weird timing of your arousal, you return to the small mattress on the floor beside the queen-sized bed and attempt once again to sleep.

But you really couldn’t.

Your heartbeat continues to race, your body growing extremely warmer by the second, you’re almost panting. The sensation becomes increasingly overwhelming until your breathing grows heavier, slower, deeper.

Your legs pressed tightly together, afraid you might start grinding against nothing without meaning to. Your thoughts spiral with deep urge, and it feels as though you might completely lose control of yourself at any moment.

After several more tossing and turning, you stood up again and made your way to the bathroom for the second time.

You convince yourself that perhaps you simply need to pee—that maybe doing so will help you feel better. You focus entirely on that thought, hoping it will calm the storm raging inside you.

Meanwhile, Yoongi hears everything.

Every restless shift, uneven breaths, every small shuffle across the floor during the last twenty minutes.

At first he tries to ignore it, but eventually curiosity begins to creep in.

The suite is quiet enough that he can hear the faint sound of your muffled sniffing partnered with heavy huffing sounds of your exhales from the bathroom. A knot of worry tightens in his chest.

For a moment, he wonders if you absolutely hated sleeping on the floor—you started crying.

The second you step out of the bathroom, Yoongi closes his laptop and turns toward you.

“Y/N, you okay?” he asked, his eyes carefully studying you.

You stop just outside the bathroom door, caught completely off guard by him suddenly paying attention to you. Not knowing how to answer, you simply stand there, staring back at him in silence contemplating whether to share your non-problem with him.

Even in the dim lighting, Yoongi immediately notices that something is off.

He can see how flushed your cheeks are, the gloss in your eyes, the sweat on your forehead that’s dampening your baby hairs.

With genuine concern, he rises from his seat and walks toward you.

Without hesitation, he lifts the back of his hand to your forehead to check your temperature. Then after, both of his large hands move to cup the sides of your neck, feeling for any sign of a fever.

The contact makes you bite down on your lower lip as you are forced to meet his eyes.

Yoongi is much taller than you, which means you have to tilt your head upward to look at him. The position gives him the perfect opportunity to study your face more closely.

Now he notices everything more.

Your doe eyes, redness creeping on your eyeline, lashes fluttering softly in a way that feels almost unintentionally sexy. The deep crimson blush stained across your cheeks. And your lips—looking so soft, slightly parted, and impossibly full.

For the first time that night, Yoongi finds himself momentarily fazed.

You have no idea where the sudden boldness comes from, but when Yoongi asks if you’re okay, you find yourself reaching for one of the hands resting against your neck. Fingers slowly intertwine with his, holding on as if he is the only steady thing in the room.

“Yoongi… can you help me… please?” you whispered. Your voice is soft—so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it the first time.

For a few seconds, Yoongi just simply stares at you.

It takes him a moment to process what you’ve said, his attention momentarily distracted by how sultry your voice sounds, making him wonder if you always talk like this.

Then something seemed to click in his brain. The familiarity of the signs you’re showing.

Yoongi abruptly pulls away and strides into the bathroom in a rush, catching you in surprise.

His eyes scan the large vanity countertop until they land on the half-eaten chocolate bar you had been snacking on earlier.

He stopped for a moment as if frozen. You watch his eyes widen slightly and his mouth slowly forms a small O as the realization sinks in.

“You ate this?” he was frowning when he asked.

Clueless and confused, you nod silently.

“But why?” he pressed again, his tone sharper now—almost accusatory, laced with disbelief, like you did something very stupid.

Your brows knit together by how small you feel right now.

“God forbid, I was hungry. Are you really upset that I ate your chocolate?” you spat, running a hand through your hair.

“Except it’s not just chocolate,” he responded, almost cutting you off. “This isn’t ordinary chocolate. It’s an aphrodisiac. Hoseok bought it as a prank gift for Jin-hyung’s party.”

Now it’s your turn to be dumbfounded.

The heat in your body seems to intensify all at once, spreading through you so strongly that it feels like you’re gonna pass out at any moment.

You quickly snatch the sweet treat from Yoongi’s hand, scanning the packaging.

The moment you confirm what it is, your stomach drops.

Your knees gave out, and you dramatically sank down onto the floor, suddenly wanting to cry from how overwhelming and embarrassing everything feels.

You don’t miss the part on the label explaining that the sweets can cause an intense increase in libido depending on how much is consumed.

And considering that the bar is nearly gone, it explains exactly why you feel like humping everything around like a dog in-heat.

Yoongi’s expression becomes soft, crouching down to help you back to your feet. He guides you gently toward the bed and sits you down, his actions more sympathetic than anything else.

From how warm your skin feels under his touch, he can only imagine how strange this must feel for you.

“What should I do, Yoongi? Should I go to the hospital?” you dreaded, your eyes pleading as you looked straight at him.

“You just have to let it pass,” he crooned.

He remains standing beside the bed, watching you as you roll your eyes at him.

“Ugh! I wish Jungkook were the one here with me right now.”

Yoongi’s brows immediately furrow at that.

For a brief moment, he wonders if you’re actually suggesting doing something far more intimate with his younger brother given your current state.

“I feel so hot… and weird… and—ugh! This is starting to frustrate me!” you groaned, fanning your face with both hands.

Realizing he’s likely going to be stuck dealing with this situation for the rest of the night, Yoongi suggested grabbing some ice cream from the convenience store downstairs with a heavy sigh.

Desperate for anything that might cool you down, you eagerly agreed.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in front of the freezer, examining the different flavors of mochi ice cream available.

Just as you’re deciding which one to get, the man who had originally booked your hotel room, the man who was just with you at the front desk earlier, approaches once he sees you, a couple of beers in his hand.

He apologizes once more for the mix-up, though you quickly reassure him that it wasn’t his fault.

He then followed to ask if you managed to find somewhere to stay for the night. You happily tell him that you did.

Not too far away, Yoongi stands at a distance, watching the interaction.

From where he’s standing, it’s painfully obvious that the guy is trying to flirt with you.

And when Yoongi overhears him inviting you to come hang out in his suite—to watch a movie with a few of his friends—his patience finally runs thin.

Without a word, he walks over, takes the mochi ice cream from your hand, and gently but firmly pulls you along toward the cashier.

By the time you step outside the store together, the stranger is already forgotten.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Yoongi exclaimed, eyebrows knitting together.

You glance at him, irritated and confused.

“What did I do this time?”

“Really?” he says incredulously. “You were actually considering going with a stranger for a ‘movie night’ just because you’re feeling horny right now?”

You choked slightly at how casually he said those words.

Immediately, you smack his arm lightly while glancing around nervously to make sure no one overheard him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you whispered sharply. “What if someone heard you and thinks I’m actually horny?!”

“Are you not?” he taunted with a smug little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shoved him lightly again, even more annoyed this time.

Without another word, you marched ahead toward the suite, leaving him behind.

But as you walk away, you hear him chuckle softly.

When the two of you returned to the hotel suite, Yoongi immediately settled back in front of his laptop and resumed working, quietly eating his ice cream. He leaves you to yourself—and to your problem that’s still simmering deep inside your body.

You end up lying across his bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Yoongi notices, but says nothing. He is fairly certain that the last thing you’ll be doing right now is sleep.

You are hoping that the weird sensation coursing through you would fade soon.

Instead, it grows worse.

Much worse.

Your body turns unbearably sensitive, every nerve suddenly heightened. There is an irritating restlessness beneath your skin—a persistent itch you cannot seem to satisfy no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

A dull ache begins forming low in your abdomen once more, as though you are holding something back that desperately wants to be released.

Without even realizing it, you begin practicing controlled breathing—slow, deliberate inhales followed by steady exhales—trying to clear your mind and calm the relentless pounding of your heart.

The thought of touching yourself creeps quietly into your mind.

You glance toward Yoongi, considering to straddle on his lap and begin to hump him until you’re satisfied.

You cursed yourself with your dirty thoughts.

He probably wouldn’t mind if you slipped into the bathroom for a moment… right?

Letting out a deep sigh, you grab your phone and attempt to call Jungkook again, hoping desperately that he might finally answer and somehow rescue you from this miserable situation.

But the line rings unanswered.

Across the room, Yoongi is having his own struggle.

For the past fifteen minutes, his eyes have been fixed on his laptop screen, but his mind has been anywhere but on his work. Your constant shifting on the bed, the soft rustling of sheets, and the occasional frustrated grunt escaping your lips make it nearly impossible for him to concentrate.

Eventually, he exhales heavily and shuts the laptop completely this time.

He stood up, stretching his arms briefly before walking over to the bed.

From where he stands beside it, he looks down at you—clearly taking in the rather pitiful state you’re in.

“Go back to your bed,” he said flatly. “I’m going to sleep now.”

He spares you a quick glance before looking away, his attention drifting somewhere else around the room.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even answer.

Instead, you remained sprawled across the center of the queen-sized bed, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your lashes flutter slowly, your lips slightly parted as you continue trying to regulate your breathing. Your chest rises and falls unevenly, your skin still flushed with warmth.

So fucking arousing.

“Aish… hurry up!” he groans under his breath, attempting to sound annoyed—though it doesn’t quite land the way he intends.

Just by looking at you, he already knows you’re not planning to budge.

He was slightly surprised when you suddenly raises your hand toward him, the gesture resembling a silent request to help you stand up.

With a faint frown, he reaches out and takes your hand, offering a help.

But you have something entirely different in mind.

Using the last bit of strength you have left, you suddenly tug him forward instead. He stumbles toward you in surprise, and in one swift motion your free hand grips the collar of his shirt.

Caught completely off guard, Yoongi loses his balance as he falls forward over you.

His reflexes are quick enough for him to brace his arms on either side of your head before his full weight can land on you. Still, the lower half of his body collides lightly with yours, pressing down just enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips at the unexpected contact.

“The fuck you’re doing, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low, breathing ragged, and slightly surprised.

His heart began to pound, brain couldn’t function properly as much.

You hold his gaze without any trace of backing down.

Slowly, your arms slide around his neck, preventing him from easily pulling away if he tries.

“Can you help me just this once, Yoongi?” you muttered, your eyes pleading with unmistakable desperation.

Yoongi wanted to say something back but he couldn’t, completely distracted by how you say his name just now, so sultry, it almost sounded like a moan.

Before he can protest, you lift your head from the pillow and press your lips against his.

The kiss is gentle. Your soft lips move against his with careful curiosity, exploring slowly. You nibble lightly at his lower lip, tugging at it before your tongue brushes against his mouth in a timid invitation.

It is tender. Careful. Almost hesitant.

Realizing that Yoongi wasn’t responding at all, a wave of shame crashes over you.

Your mind immediately spirals, overthinking the worst conclusions.

You should stop. You should pull away before you embarrass yourself any further.

Reluctantly, you begin to withdraw, your lips leaving his. Your eyes sting slightly as the weight of the moment settles in your chest. Your arms loosen from around his neck.

When you open your eyes again, you find Yoongi staring directly at you.

His gaze is fixed—intense, almost analytical—as if he’s studying you and waiting to see what you’ll do next.

Shock is written plainly across his face.

He hasn’t moved. He hasn’t said a word.

The silence is eating you alive.

“I—”

You tried to speak but was cut off when his hand suddenly slid to the back of your neck.

In one swift motion, he pulls you closer, crashing his lips against yours.

This time, the kiss is bold, craving, hungry, no trace of hesitation.

Your lips move against each other with growing urgency, your breaths mingling between them. His kiss is confident, consuming, and when his lips press firmly against yours, tiny whimpers of pleasure escape your mouth without permission.

His tongue prod your lips, demanding for an entrance instead of asking. He is using his mouth skillfully to devour you, waking up a much more intense desire.

His mouth slowly maneuvers over your jaw, placing wet kisses on your soft skin as you angle your head to give him more access. He traces your skin with his tongue while nibbling on your ears, swiping over the sensitive spots of your lobes.

“Yes, just like that.” You moaned, your hands wrapping in his locks, tugging at it softly while you’re getting drunk by the tingling feeling poking on your spine.

“You sure ‘bout this?” he whispered against your skin, asking for your permission.

The feeling of his mouth exploring your body, combined with the subtle weight of him hovering over you, tickles something deep in your brain. All you can do is moan in response and nod repeatedly, desperate for him to continue.

Your hands slide under his shirt, slowly drawing circles on his softly toned stomach as you savor the sensation of his mouth working against your neck—sucking on your supple skin until it leaves dark purple marks.

Every time his tongue circles a spot he’s marked, easing the sharp sting from sucking too hard, it feels like you’re getting drunk.

You involuntarily started grinding underneath his body, making sure to rub your core against his growing bulge— earning deep quiet groans from him.

As his mouth is busy leaving marks and love bites on your neck, his hands work on your pajamas, hastily unbuttoning them one by one until your plump, full breasts are freed. He left your neck for a while to adore your delicate body.

“So fucking sexy,” before thinking, the words already slipped out of his mouth.

He claimed your lips once again, passionate like the first time. When his fingers grazed the edge of your pants, your breath hitched, mouth slightly parted. He took it as an opportunity to swirl his tongue all over yours.

You lifted your hips slightly as he deliberately pulled down your pajamas with your panties all at once, making it easier to be discarded.

His hands were rough against your soft skin, the coldness of the steel from his rings touches your delicate thighs giving a thrill of excitement.

Once you’re fully naked underneath him, Yoongi propped himself up, hurriedly taking off his shirt and pants while looking at you. Eyes wandering on your beautiful body.

You do exactly the same, heavy lidded eyes are focused on him while he undresses. Once he successfully discarded his boxers, you see his massive hard cock slightly swaying as it hangs out.

Absent-mindedly, you licked your lips at his size, drawing a smirk on Yoongi’s lips.

You folded your knees upward, thighs slightly apart, giving him a good angle of your leaking hole.

Yoongi stares intently at you, cursing himself repeatedly in his head as he realizes his best friend’s sister is completely naked in front of him.

When you notice Yoongi staring at you for too long, a worry crosses your chest—thinking he changed his mind, that he might not be up for it after all.

You rose, kneeling on the bed, as you sat on them.

He just stands there, contemplating, his knees brushing the edge of the bed while his hand slowly strokes his cock, eyes locked on you.

“There’s still chocolate left, if you need it,” you murmured softly, your voice teasing slightly to mask the sudden awkwardness.

“H-huh?” he asked, as if he didn’t hear you the first time.

“I said, there’s still chocolate left,” you repeated. “You know, in case you needed help,” you continued.

Yoongi scoffed at your words. “I don’t need help, Y/N. I’m already painfully hard, as you can see,” he teased.

Your gaze drops to his cock as he continues stroking it slowly.

“Then why aren’t you touching me? Second guessing?” you pressed again, bold and direct, though the softness in your voice betrays a hint of worry that he might be having second thoughts.

“No, baby,” he cooed, his free hand moving to the side of your cheek, gently tracing your skin.

Your stomach flutters at the nickname.

Gathering enough courage, you slowly reach for his throbbing cock.

“Can I?” you asked for permission. He nods.

You bring your palm to your mouth, spit on it, then gently wrap your hand around him, spreading your saliva so your grip glides smoothly. Using your thumb, you carefully collect the precum leaking at his tip and spread it over his plush mushroom head.

You notice his hand, which had been caressing your cheek, drop to his side. His head falls back, eyes closing, mouth slightly parted, breath growing heavy—clear signs he enjoys what you’re doing.

You continue stroking him, feeling the friction of his shaft against your soft palms, tracing every angry vein, sending shivers up your spine.

Bringing your mouth close to his throbbing head, you spit on it again, then press your tongue flat to his tip, tasting the salty precum as you gently suck on it. When you release his head, it makes a nice popping sound, followed by a deep grunt from Yoongi.

You glance at him, checking if it hurts, but all you see is pure pleasure on his face.

You flatten your tongue and lick a slow stripe from base to head, then you flick your tongue over his tip once more, swirling it on his slit before going back to his base, placing soft kisses all over his balls then for the second time, licking a slow stripe from the base to his tip. Tongue wet and warm, your nose grazing the skin of his length.

“Fucking hell…” Yoongi let out a throaty curse, drunk and breathless.

Yoongi cups your jaw with one hand, taking his cock in the other, giving it a few shallow strokes before gliding the tip along your lips, teasing you.

“Fuck, Y/N, your brother’s gonna kill me,” he murmured, eyes fixed on his tip swirling along your plumped lips.

A soft grin tugs at your lips as you look up at him, making sure to flutter your lashes a little sexier.

“But hell, you’re so attractive right now, it feels like a sin not to touch you,” he continued, his voice deep and low, the kind that makes girls go crazy over with.

His hand leaves your jaw and grips your hair in a makeshift ponytail.

“I’ll just deal with your him later,” he whispered, lightly slapping his cock against your face.

“Mhmm, open up for me, baby.”

It’s not a request—it’s an order you willingly follow.

Yoongi shoves his massive, aching cock inside your mouth, broken curses slipping from his lips. His hand in your hair provides support as he continues to push himself.

Another delicious moan escapes his lips once his tip touches the back of your throat. Thanks to your nonexistent gag reflex, Yoongi feels like he’s floating in euphoria.

Your eyes start to water from how full your mouth is, your jaw aching from the stretch, yet there’s still part of him that can’t fit entirely.

Just his size alone is enough to make you wet. Yoongi is thick rather than long, but you still estimated he’s almost six inches with a fat girth.

A sudden memory flashes—the first time you touched yourself back in high school, imagining it was him, losing count of how many times you moaned his name.

Back in reality, you place your hand on his hips and take over. Slowly, bobbing your head, taking his cock in and out of your mouth, your free hand is pumping the remaining of his length.

Drool dipping down your chin as you take him further down, hollowing your cheeks, pace increasing but consistent.

Yoongi couldn’t help but to watch you take his cock, plump lips stretched obscenely wide around his girth, eyes glossy, and looking so fucking pretty while giving him the best blowjob of his life.

You notice his grip on your hair tightening—you know he’s close. But to your surprise, Yoongi stops you. He says he doesn’t want to finish yet with just your mouth.

“Now lay down for me, baby.” he instructed, finally letting go of everything that’s restraining him.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful.”

The compliment was a slip, Yoongi is so mesmerized with you tonight, he seemed to forget how to act properly with a girl in bed.

You tried to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks, but it’s already too late.

“You know I’ll still let you fuck me tonight even without these flattering words, right?” you counter playfully.

Yoongi, who is hovering over you, looks directly into your eyes, his expression suddenly firm.

“I’m not the type to compliment girls just to get in their pants. We can just sleep now, and I’ll still think you’re beautiful when we wake up in the morning.”

Something about his words makes your stomach twist. A false hope begins to glimmer in your heart.

In the silence, your mind starts wondering if there might be a chance that Yoongi could like you romantically.

Your thoughts are instantly cut off when Yoongi starts sucking on your nipple while his free hand roughly massages the other, as if he has been craving it.

You let out a soft whimper, remembering how sensitive you are, and your body begins grinding against the pleasurable feeling.

Yoongi nips at the bud of your nipple, nibbles on the soft skin around it, and sucks on it hard enough to leave a mark—as if claiming what’s his.

While he is busy playing with your breasts, your hand swiftly moves in between your bodies until you find his cock. Slowly, you give it a few pumps before gliding it along the lips of your cunt, collecting your own arousal.

Yoongi jolts at the sudden contact, biting your skin a little too hard and making you hiss in pain.

The next thing you hear is his muffled curses as he buries his face into your heavy breasts.

You know now that gliding his tip along your leaking cunt makes his head spin, so you keep doing it until it starts feeling too much for you as well.

Both of you are panting from uncontrollable lust and arousal. Yoongi props himself up and kneels between your legs.

“Shit! I don’t have any spare condoms,” he realizes, frustration evident on his face.

Yoongi came to this bachelor’s party with no intention of getting laid, which is why he didn’t bother bringing condoms with him. And without having someone in his life for nearly two years, he never felt the need to keep one in his wallet.

“I—I got tested recently when I broke up with my ex, and I haven’t stopped taking my birth control,” you stated, slightly embarrassed by the sudden TMI.

“My last screening was almost two years ago,” he confessed, and you can see the hesitation and aching disappointment creeping into his expression.

“When was the last time you had sex?” you asked boldly in return, not really caring to know if he’s clean, you know he is, but deep down you just wanted to know if he has someone in his life recently, despite knowing he is single.

“Two years ago.”

His answer desperately lingers in your mind. You have no idea that Yoongi hasn’t been sexually active.

You tried not to overreact, but this is news to you.

Yoongi is a very attractive man—no one can deny that, especially since he decided to grow his hair long. Anyone who looks at him can tell he’s a decent man: well-spoken, a gentleman, and financially stable for his age.

He’s a highly sought-after producer in the industry, collaborating left and right with well-known artists. He has his own apartment and his own car.

A very eligible bachelor that could easily be getting different girls every night if he wanted.

“Fuck! I’ll drop by the convenience store real quick.” Yoongi is about to get off the bed, panic creeping into his voice as he noticed you haven’t responded.

You grab his hand, stopping him.

“Hey, I’m okay with it. You’re not going anywhere,” your voice speaks desperation.

“You sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he replied, his voice soothing your nerves.

“Yoongi, please…”

“Please what, baby?”

A playful smirk is back on his face upon hearing your desperate pleas.

“I can’t wait anymore… mhmm want you inside me.”

There is a shift in the air. The sexual tension between you grows thicker with every passing second.

Yoongi positions himself back between your legs. He lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder while the other rested against his hip.

He takes his still-hard cock, giving it a few lazy pumps until precum leaks from the tip, then aligns himself to your entrance. He spits onto you, the saliva landing directly on your clit, then uses the tip of his cock to spread it along your cunt as added lubrication.

“Relax for me, baby.”

He massages your clit a few times with his long digits before suddenly dipping three fingers into your leaking hole, pumping it aggressively a few times making sure you are prepped. A sultry whimper escapes you, followed quickly by soft grunts of frustration when he pulls them out just as suddenly, leaving you craving more.

He slowly pushes his cock into your hole, giving you time to adjust.

His cock is so fat forcing your tight walls to stretch around him, snug, slippery, and tight. The mix of pain and pleasure makes you gasp for air, while he’s biting his lip to keep himself from slamming deeper too fast.

Broken curses and series of moans of repeated, ‘yes, yes, yes’ fill the quiet of the room, your whimpers are high and breathy, while his are low, deep, almost turning into desperate grunts.

“Just a little more,” he grunts against your ear.

Your nails are digging to the back of his shoulders as you can feel the drag of every vein of his cock along your velvety walls until his length is fully sheathed inside you.

Yoongi stopped momentarily so you can fully adjust to the stretch. Your breaths are heavy as you feel the thick pressure settling deep in your belly as if your body was being filled too full.

You can’t help but to clench around him repeatedly when you become aware of a swollen spot on your belly where his cock bulges from inside of you.

He gently presses on the spot, sending extreme pleasure to your core.

“Okay to fuck you now, baby?” he asked, cocky and proud.

After a few eager nods from you, Yoongi starts moving—deliberate and slow. He pulls halfway out before thrusting fully back inside with force.

He notices the pain registering on your face as he rams into you, so he brings his thumb back to your clit, pressing against it, making sure to hit the bundle of nerves while drawing slow circles to distract you from the discomfort.

When he sees your expression shift from pain to pleasure, he takes it as a sign to quicken his pace.

Your cunt releases more wetness while Yoongi continues to play with your clit, making it easier for his cock to glide in and out of your tight hole. A feeling that makes him curse himself for how good it was.

His slow, deep thrusts soon turn into shorter, faster ones.

Yoongi fucks you with intention—strong and brutal. His eyes remain fixed on you, watching you lose yourself as he drives into your cunt again and again.

His hands move to grope your breasts, which bounces deliciously in sync with his thrusts.

All you can do is moan beneath him, screaming his name over and over as both pain and pleasure take over your body.

Maybe it’s the aphrodisiac. Maybe it’s the feelings you’ve hidden for him for so long. Either way, this is the best sex of your life.

Yoongi shifts his position, bringing both your legs onto his hips as you automatically wrap them around him. He bends forward to kiss your lips while continuing to fuck you.

His movements remain relentless and steady, shoving himself fully inside you each time, giving you some of his weight whenever his pelvis meets the lips of your cunt.

“Oh my god! Oh god, oh god—right there! Yes! Yes!”

You cry out in pleasure when Yoongi begins hitting your g-spot. Your nails further claw down his back, making him hiss at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

Losing your mind is an understatement.

“Yoongi, I’m gonna come—oh fuck! Don’t stop,” you choked out as warmth pools in your lower abdomen.

“Yes, come for me, baby. You deserve it.”

A few more direct thrusts against your g-spot sends you over the edge.

Yoongi feels your walls tighten and pulse around his cock, followed by a rush of warm liquid spilling from your cunt as he continues thrusting deeply and slowly—still rubbing your overly sensitive clit while you ride out your orgasm.

As your peak begins to fade, Yoongi quickens his pace once again, chasing his own climax.

His hips snap fast and short with brutal force while his lips nip and bite at your neck.

You noticed how loud he’s getting, moaning your name repeatedly and muttering broken curses in between as his thrusts become sloppy and uneven—a clear sign he’s close.

“Can I come inside, baby?” he asked, almost pleading, his face buried in the crook of your neck, voice low and breathless.

“Yes…” you answered back without hesitation, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Y/N… baby…” he cooed between heavy breaths.

“Yes, Yoongi, yes… all you want.”

Yoongi cried out a long, guttural moan—the kind that made you squeeze your eyes shut because of how intensely arousing it sounds.

Still bucking his hips, you feel hot ropes of liquid shooting deep inside you. You also feel his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, careful enough not to hurt you but still sending delicious sensation through your body.

You absentmindedly bite your lower lip when you realize he’s coming more than the normal amount. His release begins spilling out of your cunt as he lazily keeps thrusting his spent cock, yet he still isn’t done.

It makes you wonder when was the last time he even touched himself.

A few moments later, Yoongi’s body fully collapses on top of you.

Your hand moves to the back of his head, slowly stroking his long hair as he keeps his face buried against your neck.

“Hell, did it really take me this long to risk everything for you?”

Yoongi’s words are clear—you’re sure you heard them right—but you still struggle to understand what he means.

You want to ask him. You want to know if there’s even the slightest chance that he likes you too.

But no words came out.

With his head resting near your chest, you wonder if he can hear how loudly your heart is beating right now.

The ray of sunlight hitting directly across your face slowly pulls you out from slumber. Your eyes flutter open, still heavy with exhaustion, and you attempt to shift your body away from the blinding light.

But a weight draped over your back makes it difficult to move.

Still half lost in the haze of the previous night, your mind slowly begins piecing things together. A heavy arm is wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close. At the same time, you become aware of a warm presence nestled against the back of your neck—steady breaths brushing softly against your skin.

Yoongi is spooning you from behind.

A small smile spreads across your lips. You have imagined something like this for years.

There has always been something about Yoongi that draws you to him—something quiet and magnetic that captured your attention long ago, back when you were still in high school, despite the age gap between you.

Through all your attempts to catch his attention over time, it is almost amusing that your brother, Namjoon, never once noticed that among all the people in his circle, you treated Yoongi differently.

Even while quietly admiring him from afar, you never stopped yourself from dating other people. Still, none of those relationships ever lasted very long.

Because, somewhere deep down, you have always been hoping for a chance with him.

And now, it is actually happening.

You feel Yoongi stir slightly behind you, his arm shifting just enough to loosen its hold. Taking the opportunity, you gently turn your body to face him.

“Good morning,” you greeted softly, smiling as you brush a few strands of his long bangs away from his face.

Instead of answering right away, Yoongi leans forward and presses a soft kiss against your forehead. Then another against the tip of your nose.

And finally, a brief peck on your lips.

Heat instantly rises to your cheeks.

“Feeling better now?” he asked with his bedroom voice, eyes still adjusting to the morning light filtering into the suite.

“Mhm,” you nod. Then, after a small pause, you add, “But I’m sore.”

A quiet chuckle escapes him.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” he murmured, pulling you a little closer against his chest.

Then quietly, “I’m not sure if I’ll still be able to hold you like this once I tell Namjoon what happened.”

You blink in surprise at his sudden openness.

Tilting your head slightly, you search his face.

“We don’t have to tell them what happened,” you suggested gently, hoping to ease whatever worry he might be feeling.

This time Yoongi looks directly at you. A small crease forms between his brows as he frowns slightly.

“I don’t date in secret, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, thinking you were suddenly hallucinating.

“DATE??”

Your sudden outburst startled him, and for a brief moment the confidence in his expression falters. He mentally curses himself for jumping ahead without properly asking you first.

“I thought you liked me—”

“You knew?!” you interrupted.

Yoongi nods sheepishly.

“Jungkook told me—”

“That fucker— I swear to God—”

“Baby…” Yoongi murmured softly, cutting off your mini rant with a calming tone as he pulled you again closer to his chest. You gladly snuggled against him.

“I’m sorry if I startled you. We can take it slow,” he mumbled, his gaze steady and sincere as he watched your reaction. “You know… get to know each other better before we start dating. Assuming your brother doesn’t kill me first when I tell him.”

You hold his gaze for a moment.

Then you shook your head.

“Fuck taking it slow—and fuck Namjoon. It’s my decision if I want to date you now,” you said firmly before leaning forward to place a few soft pecks on his lips.

A smile spreads across Yoongi’s face.

He shifts slightly, about to lean over you and deepen the kiss—

When suddenly the suite door swings open. Both of your heads snap toward the doorway.

Standing there is Jungkook, who very clearly has just woken up.

For a split second he freezes, eyes widening as he realizes he has just walked in on his older brother sharing a bed with someone.

“Shit!” Jungkook panicked, quickly stepping back out and pulling the door closed again.

Just seconds later, the door swings open once more—this time with added force.

“Y/N? What the hell?!” Jungkook blurted out in disbelief as he strides into the room and shuts the door behind him.

He stares at the two of you, clearly stunned by the sight.

Yoongi is already preparing to kick him out, but you instinctively pull the comforter higher around yourself, curling closer to Yoongi in embarrassment.

Your eyes follow Jungkook as he casually walks toward the bathroom.

The moment he disappears inside, you lean closer to Yoongi and whisper hurriedly into his ear.

“Yoongi… I’m still naked.”

Your face burns at the realization that Jungkook—your best friend—just saw you in bed with his brother, fully naked under the thick comforter, but he doesn’t know that, right?

“The hell do you want, Jungkook? Can you get out?” Yoongi called toward the bathroom, his tone calm despite the situation.

“Took you long enough, hyung,” Jungkook teases as he steps back out.

“Fuck you. Get out,” Yoongi barked, rolling his eyes, though you can see a restrained smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, okay—I just needed this.” Jungkook raises a hand, showing the toothbrush and toothpaste he grabbed from the sink as he walks toward the door.

But before stepping out, he pauses dramatically.

A mischievous grin spreads across his face as he tilts his head back slightly, tongue poking on the inside of his cheeks cockily, hands resting on his hips.

“You’re so dead when Namjoon-hyung finds out,” he teased his brother with a laugh.

And then he disappears, closing the door behind him.

Silence settles in the room again. That’s when a realization quietly dawns on you.

The real reason Jungkook never once tried to make a move on you all these years is because he knows.

His brother, Yoongi, liked you too.

© 2026 toastynamgi. all rights reserved.

— chapter ten

“One, two, three—kimchiii!”

“Kimchiiii…”

“Aigoo, the two of you are really cute together!” your mom chirps as she hands your phone back after snapping the photo.

“Congratulations again, Yoongi-ah. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to Jeju?” she adds, her attention shifting warmly to him.

Your boyfriend offers a shy smile, politely declining your mom’s invitation for what feels like the nth time over the past couple of weeks.

“Just let Y/N know if you change your mind. We’d love to have you there… so we can have our own private time without this ladybug hogging us,” your dad chimes in teasingly.

Today marks your graduation as a senior high school student. You’ve been in an exclusive relationship with Yoongi for over four months now, that being said, you’ve already met each other’s parents.

From the very beginning, Yoongi has been nothing but respectful, polite, calm, and collected around your parents. Because of that, they’ve had no reason not to approve of him as your boyfriend. In fact, your mom absolutely adores him. Beyond being the first guy you’ve ever introduced to them, what truly won them over was how gently and consistently he takes care of you. As an only child with often-busy parents, that means more to them than anything.

And to you… it means everything.

These past few months have been the happiest you’ve ever been, and your relationship with Yoongi is the biggest reason why. He’s always there for you, especially during the times you felt like you were losing your mind over college entrance exams. He would stay up all night with you while you reviewed piles of thick textbooks, quietly keeping you company just in case you break down or needed someone to hold you together.

Earlier in your relationship, Yoongi shared his plans to take a gap year. He wanted to build a stronger portfolio for his music before applying to college, aiming to get into the university of his dreams. Naturally, he plans to major in music. You can see it clearly—Yoongi has a creative mind that seems to breathe life into anything related to it.

And as his girlfriend, you support him wholeheartedly.

You encourage him to seize every opportunity that comes his way during his gap year. You remind him to go the extra mile, to never box himself in, to explore, and to nurture his craft.

You promise to stand by him, no matter what. And he promises the same.

“Alright, you two enjoy the rest of your day. Make sure to let us know if you’ll be coming home tonight, Y/N,” your mom says, hugging you and Yoongi goodbye.

You wait for them to get inside the car before walking toward Yoongi’s parents, who have been waiting for him. They’ve invited you over for dinner for a small celebration—something you would never turn down, especially since his mom cooks the best local food, given that she owns a restaurant.

You and Yoongi sit at the back of the car on the way to his house. You watch him quietly as he gently circles his thumb over your hand, spacing out while staring outside. You’ve noticed that Yoongi has been a little quieter than usual these past few days—maybe even a week. If you told anyone, they’d say Yoongi has always been quiet, but you know better. You know he’s actually a yapper, especially when it comes to you.

Your mind drifts back to what happened a week ago, when you were hanging out in your room. You were reading a book while he strummed a few chords on the guitar you gifted him, trying to piece together a melody for a song he’d been working on.

Then his phone rang.

He excused himself to answer it, and after a few long minutes, he came back. He was smiling—but nervously. You tried asking what it was about, but he just shrugged and said it was related to what he’d been working toward, which you knew meant building his portfolio. You didn’t push further, because you’re used to him telling you everything eventually. You figured maybe it wasn’t good news, and he just needed time to process it before talking to you about it.

That very same day, the sex felt different. It’s very intimate, much more intimate than before—so much so that it was hard to forget. You remember how he took his time, tracing your body, kissing your lips, your neck, your skin—every part of you—so slowly. You can still remember the way he buried himself deep inside you, not rough like you were used to, but gentle, unhurried. He didn’t curse, didn’t let out a single swear word no matter how good it felt. Instead, he whispered soft affirmations, almost like he was worshipping you.

It was intimate, and you felt loved.

After that day, nothing seemed to change. Everything felt normal between the two of you—still happy, still secure. But lately, you’ve been noticing him spacing out more often. It’s not alarming, not enough for anyone else to point out, but as someone who spends every day with him, it’s noticeable.

Your train of thought were cut off when the car slows down in front of his house. He carefully guide you out and walks inside together holding hands.

During dinner, his parents are asking about your plans for college which somehow makes you a little uncomfortable because you know that they are against Yoongi taking a gap year. But you didn’t fret, you came prepared. You answer their questions politely, and when it naturally drifts off to Yoongi’s “poor” decision as they say, of taking a gap year and choosing music, you make sure to point out that taking gap year is normal and a wise decision if you are aiming to enter your dream university, and every now and then you make sure to point out that being in the world of creatives pays good money. You tried your best to respectfully burst the bubbles in their heads that there’s no money in art. Because it’s true, if it’s done right, and you managed to get your way to the top, art can pay tons of money. Luckily, his brother consistently backing you up all throughout the conversation. At the end of dinner—impressed by how smart you sounds, Yoongi’s father reminds him to not be stupid of letting you go ever which makes you a blushing mess.

You are lying in Yoongi’s bed when he gets out of the shower.

“Can I stay the night?” you ask.

Yoongi grins playfully, “You don't have to ask, you know that right?”

“Mm-hmm, just wanted to make sure my boyfriend is up for it.” you tease.

“Cute.” he chuckles.

“So, what you say—can I borrow a t-shirt so I can shower?”

You are already on your feet, flipping through his cabinet to search for your favorite white t-shirt, and when you found it, you catch Yoongi looking at you with full admiration. His eyes are sparkling, lips slightly curling a smile.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, just—my mind is already picturing the day where we’ll share, you know—everything.” he replies, voice soft and sincere.

If it's other guy, you’ll probably bolt through the door as fast as you can and say it's too early in your relationship to be thinking about those kind of things but it's not just any other guy—it’s Yoongi.

The guy who can make your heart flutter even with the simplest gestures, the guy who always meant what he says, the guy who can make you feel loved even without saying it out loud. The guy who takes care of you physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guy who makes you think of what your future house would look like with him in it.

It may sound insane and rash, but you’re totally seeing yourself settling with him. Not today, or next week, or next year, but soon.

“Now you're being sappy with me. What about I take a shower, then I’ll cheer you up?” you tease, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Yah! I’m being serious, don't make fun of me.” he pouts.

“—but fuck sappy hours. I will never turn down your offer. Hmm, cheering me up? Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, eyebrows wiggling as you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Can you text my mom and tell I’ll stay here tonight?” You pull away from Yoongi and retreat to the bathroom for a shower.

— chapter eleven

The white T-shirt you borrowed from Yoongi had long since been abandoned on the floor. Your lips move against his in a rush, messy and hungry pace, as you straddle his lap in nothing but your underwear. Yoongi cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer, pressing you deeper into the kiss. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth, drawing a muffled whimper from your lips.

You can feel him hardening between your thighs, and you roll your hips subtly, testing, teasing. The friction makes your breath hitch.

Slowly, you slide off his lap, breaking the kiss. You settle between his legs, your knees lays flat on the floor as Yoongi leans back on his hands, watching you.

Your hand finds his bulge, palming him through the fabric, feeling him grow under your touch. When you tug at the waistband of his pants, Yoongi lifts his hips slightly, helping you pull them down. The fabric pools around his feet, leaving him exposed, his cock flushed and heavy in the cool air.

Your grip is soft at first, almost curious, as your fingers wrap around his shaft. Your thumb brushes over his slit, spreading the pre-cum that beads at the tip. Then your tongue follows—warm, slow—circling the head, tasting him. It’s salty, but he tastes so good.

Yoongi lets out a strained groan, like it almost hurts. His hand flies to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, gripping a little tighter when you take him into your mouth in one smooth motion. Your lips seal around him, sinking deeper until you feel him press against the back of your throat.

You don’t stop. You push further, despite the gag that rises in your chest. By the time he’s fully sheathed in your mouth, Yoongi is a wreck—cursing under his breath, voice breaking.

Slowly, you pull back, releasing him with a soft pop. When you glance up at him, he looks undone—eyes glassy, chest rising and falling, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

“Jesus, baby… that’s so good.”

Your hand wraps around him again, steady at his base, as you lean in to drag your tongue along the underside of his length. His cock twitches against your nose.

Just as you’re about to swallow him in again, Yoongi stops you, his grip tightening gently.

“Hold on, baby—wait. I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he exhales. “Let me take care of you.”

A slow grin spreads across your lips at how uncomposed he is, a clear evidence that he’s losing his mind.

You rise to your feet and reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it somewhere across the room. Then you slide your panties down your legs, letting them fall just as carelessly to the floor.

Climbing back onto his lap, you settle over him again.

The moment your wet heat brushes against his cock, the friction sends a sharp wave through you. You let out a soft, unsteady moan as you instinctively grind down, your body reacting before you can think. Yoongi’s hands grip your hips tightly, his head falling back slightly as he hisses at the contact.

“Tonight’s all about you, baby.” you whisper as you grab his hard cock and line it against your heat.

Slowly, you sink down on him earning a ragged moan from the both of you. Your nails embed on his shoulders as you slowly sink deeper, feeling every vein and twitch against your soft warm walls. Yoongi is nothing different, his grasp on your hips tighten, eyes shut, and strings of low grunts are spilling endlessly out of his lips.

You pause for a moment when you bottom out, his twitching cock is sheathed all the way inside you. You can feel your walls flutter, the stretch is familiar yet still overwhelming. You press your forehead against his as you look him in the eye and he returns it.

His eyes are screaming desire, lust, worry? at the same time. When Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, you swivel your hips making him shut his eyes at your wake. His nails dig deeper in your hips, the kind where bruise will surely follow. Your breath falters as you continue grinding on top of him, his cock swiping every inch of your sensitive spots.

“Y-you sure about this?” he chokes.

“I’ve been thinking about this too much lately.”

Since the night in the cabin, you and Yoongi had shared incredible sex on the daily which made you question yourself a couple of times if the numbers are normal for a couple at your age. This time though hits different. Sure, you’ve taken control multiple times, rode his cock until you milk him dry but this is something new because for the first time, you’re doing it without a protection— no latex, no rubber in between. And as if the incredible sex with him can get better, you’re not ashamed to admit that this is phenomenal.

“You need to pull out of me when I— god! you feel so good— I-I don’t think I can pull out, baby. You need to do it yourself, kay?” Yoongi manage get his words out despite of losing all coherent thoughts with how delicious this new sensation is.

“Can I say something?” you ask before adding speed to your pace grinding.

“Sure, but you need to stop with the clenching because I’m really really close.”

“I started taking birth control three weeks ago.”

Yoongi flutters his eyes open, staring directly onto you with his dark gaze and appreciation glimmering on his brown orbs. Those eyes.

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t want you to do anything out of pressure.”

“Relax, I got myself checked first. And I wanted to do it for us, I’m more than willing to—fuck! fuck!” you shove your face in the crook of his neck, unable to finish your sentence when his cock brush against your g-spot, making you quiver with immensible pleasure.

Yoongi flips you so your back lay against the mattress while he hovers on top of you. With his swift hands, he lifts both of your legs on his chest, basically folding you in half as he rut himself without restraint. Your body moves half inch higher after each thrusts. Your toes curls involuntarily while he fucks you harder than he ever did before.

You cup both of your breasts in attempt to maximize the glorious sensation radiating all over your body then suddenly a jolt of sting spreads on your face when Yoongi’s palm meets your soft cheeks.

“Do it again, baby, please” you beg, tears brimming the side of your eyes.

Another slap landed on your cheeks earning a sultry moan from the mixture of pain and pleasure, and without realizing it, you come undone. Hot fluid gush out of your hole, covering Yoongi’s dick that’s pushing in and out of you relentlessly. An obscene wet noise coming from your dripping pussy getting destroyed flood the four corners of his room. You can’t help but clench, and clench, and clench, clamping your walls around his cock as you ride your high which sends Yoongi to his peak.

With a little hesitation pooling on his chest, Yoongi spills his release inside of you—all of it, burying himself as deeper as he could while he fiddles with your fingers.

Your eyes flutters as you watch him ride his orgasm before collapsing on top of you, snuggling against your warm embrace.

God, you’re so in love.

— chapter twelve

There is an extra skip in your step as you carry your luggage into the house. You spent the last five days at your grandmother’s home in Jeju with your parents as a graduation gift vacation, but no matter how breathtaking the places you visited were, your heart could not wait to return to Daegu and back to the love of your life.

A grin that had been plastered on your face since this morning was nowhere near fading. Yoongi slept early last night, saying he was tired from his day, and when you woke up this morning, his good morning message was the first thing you saw on your phone. After that, though, he had been radio silent all day.

Normally, you would already be pouty and upset by now, but you knew better. The thought that Yoongi might have something special prepared for your return had kept you in a good mood the entire day.

You send him a text while lying on your bed.

Hey, I’m home. Dinner together?

When the message goes unanswered for five minutes, you send another.

Busy? I miss you, please come over and hug me. I’m starting to forget your smell.

Another five minutes pass with nothing, so you send another text, and then another, until the third turns into a string of unanswered messages.

Don’t ignore me, Yoongi!!

Sorry, are you really busy?

I’m starting to think you’re breaking up with me or something.

Kidding…

Press one for proof of life.

Hey, it seems like you’re really busy. Kk, don’t want to be the annoying girlfriend. Text me when you’re available.

Yoongi, I know I said I wouldn’t be annoying, but you’re making me upset right now. It’s been four hours since I got back, and you haven’t replied since this morning. What’s up? I’m worried.

His lack of communication suddenly kills your appetite, enough for you to skip dinner altogether. You don’t know how long you stare at your phone waiting for his reply before you eventually fall asleep.

The next morning, you jolt awake. Your hands scramble through the sheets looking for your phone, hoping Yoongi’s reason for being radio silent all day yesterday would be enough to keep you from getting upset.

Instead, disappointment crashes over you when you see there isn’t a single text from him.

You make your way downstairs with a tiny bit of hope that your boyfriend is in the kitchen making breakfast, something he had done a couple of times ever since you introduced him to your parents. But the whole house is quiet. Not a single person is in sight. Your parents have already gone to work, leaving you completely alone.

You pick up your phone and dial his number as you get dressed. You are a patient woman, but everything has its limits. Whatever Yoongi is planning, a surprise or whatever the fuck it is, is not worth this kind of cold treatment.

Your eyebrows pinch together when the anger clouding your brain is suddenly replaced with genuine worry at the operator’s voice on the other line.

“I’m sorry, the number you dialed is unavailable and cannot be reached. Please try your call again later.”

Within minutes, you are outside hailing a taxi. He better have a good reason for turning off his phone, you think as the taxi drives toward his house.

You stand in front of his gate for God knows how long. There’s an uneasiness swelling in your chest that makes you hesitate to knock.

Yoongi isn’t like this, you tell yourself.

He knew you were coming home yesterday. You told him that before he went to sleep. You replay the days you spent in Jeju, but everything had seemed normal. You texted each other every single day, telling one another how much you missed each other. Before bed, he would call and listen to your stories about the places you visited.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot think of a single reason that would make him act like this.

If he were planning a surprise for you, he would never go an entire day without communication. No, Yoongi would never do that. He had been blowing up your phone since the moment you left for Jeju, constantly all over you ever since you started dating.

You know something is wrong.

Just as you are about to knock, you hear a voice behind you.

“Y/N?”

You turn on your heels to find Yoongi’s brother standing there, holding a plastic bag full of vegetables.

“Hey, is Yoo—”

“Already missing Yoongi?” he cuts you off with a sheepish grin.

Your brows furrow.

“Come on in. How long have you been here?”

You step inside while he holds the gate open for you.

“Not that long. Is Yoongi here?”

Jay, Yoongi’s brother, suddenly stops in his tracks and looks back at you with a frown, concern flickering across his face.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Uh… he hasn’t replied to my texts since yesterday. I tried calling him this morning, but his phone was turned off, so I decided to stop by and see if he’s okay.”

“Y/N… he didn’t tell you?”

Your stomach drops.

“Tell me what?”

“Yoongi moved to Seoul two days ago. He got accepted into a training program.”

“For what?”

“To become an idol.”

A loud, piercing ring fills your ears. Your vision blurs red, and for a second, it feels like your lungs stop working altogether.

You don’t know what to say.

Is this a prank? Is he joking?

No.

Jay’s face is nothing but serious. You can tell he is not messing with you.

You have no idea how long you stand there staring at him, or how long you remain silent. Your brain only seems to start functioning again when Jay lifts his phone to his ear. The line rings endlessly.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” Jay snaps once the voicemail picks up. “Y/N is here. Talk to her.”

He ends the call after leaving the message.

Then he looks at you carefully.

“You want his new number?”

“No.”

— chapter thirteen

It’s been three days since you found out that Yoongi left for Seoul without saying anything to you. You have no idea how to process such heartbreak simply because no one ever warned you that this type of breakup could happen to you. Yes, you call this a breakup since everything the two of you built together vanished the moment he ghosted you for his dreams.

Right… his dreams.

You should’ve seen the signs. For all the months you’ve been together, you haven’t heard him talk about his future with you in it. Not when every promise of getting off in his bed followed through.

The past few days have been hell, and it doesn’t improve much. You haven’t been getting proper sleep and barely eat. You refuse to tell your parents what really happened, but you know they already have an idea.

Another wave of pain tingles through your brain. You’ve been having migraines from crying these past few days, and today is no different. Although now, you’re crying for two reasons. One, because your boyfriend abandoned you like a piece of trash, and two, because you just tanked your interview at SNU.

Your college entrance interview was set earlier today, and your brain just shut off. Your confidence immediately flew out the window the moment they started asking questions. You couldn’t even speak properly, and you swear the interviewer noticed that you were one thread away from crying. There’s no way you passed that interview, so your chance of studying at your first-choice school is zero at this point.

Who wants to go to Seoul anyway?

Did Yoongi ever anticipate that you’d pass SNU? If so, why did he go to Seoul without telling you? He’s not stupid enough to forget that if you ever decided to go to SNU, there would be a chance you’d see him, or at least be in the same city as him.

Rivulets of tears stream from your eyes to your ears because of your own thoughts. You can think of a hundred ways to work around your relationship while studying in the same city as he chases his dreams of becoming an idol.

I guess I am not important enough to make it into his plans for the future. Just another thing at his disposal. A piece of ass he decided to leave in Daegu because idols are prohibited from dating during their first few years. Of course, no one wants a loophole that could sabotage his climb up the ladder of his career.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces once more as those truths cloud your brain. How could he leave you like that? How could he pretend and say he misses you and can’t wait for you to come back, only for you to return to him running away from everything you built together?

No, he didn’t run away. He disappeared because you were that easy to dispose of.

You log into your social media account and visit his page. He rarely uses social media, so you’re not sure what you’re even looking for. When there’s nothing to scroll through on his feed, you click the message button and send a voicemail.

Hey, I just wanted to know why you left. Please call me when you get this.

Just once. One more try at saving the sinking ship because God forbid you love the man who made you feel unimportant enough to leave without saying goodbye. Despite your resolve, your heart is more than willing to forget everything he’s done if he’ll just say he’s sorry.

8 months later

Your walk is a little wobbly as you try to get out of the BBQ pub with your friends beside you, giggling over something you can’t even remember. Your college friends think it’s best to celebrate your birthday, which falls on a Friday night, by stuffing yourselves with good meoksal and getting hammered. That’s how you end up face-fuck drunk with a bunch of wild nerds.

You look at one of your friends trying to hand you a cigarette.

“You know I don’t smoke,” you say in refusal.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N! Just try it so you don’t end up looking like a goody-goody among your friends.”

“No, thanks!”

“Yah! Stop pushing Y/N. This bitch has never smoked in her life. You don’t stand a chance,” your other friend chimes in, making the other walk away from you in defeat.

You just chuckle as you watch your friends drag on their cigarettes not too far from where you stand.

Only if you knew…

When Yoongi left you eight months ago, you tried your best to move on with your life no matter how hard it was. That includes everything that reminds you of him, and smoking is the first thing. It’s weird that the most common vice in the world reminds you of the person you both love and hate. You still get misty-eyed every time you see, hear, or smell something that reminds you of him. It’s been months, eight fucking months. You entered college, made new friends, developed new hobbies, and yet you still haven’t moved on.

How could you, though, if you have no idea where to start?

Your poor heart was shattered into a million little pieces left scattered on the floor, and no matter how much you want to fix everything, you don’t know where to begin. You don’t know which pieces to pick up first. Your confidence, trust, and happiness were ripped away from you. You don’t know what needs healing because everything inside you seems broken. It comes to the point where it hurts both emotionally and physically.

Your drifting thoughts are cut off by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You look at the caller ID and it says, “Seoul.”

You have no idea what you were thinking when you saved this phone number with the +82 area code. The call is coming from Seoul.

It’s not the first time this number has tried to call you.

The first time starts six months ago. When the number calls for the first time, you don’t answer. Then the next day it calls again while you’re in class, and once again you let it ring. That same night, when you’re about to sleep, your phone rings again with the same number calling. Without thinking much of it, you answer, but the line is silent.

No matter how many times you say, “Hello? Who’s this?” there’s nothing. Not even breathing can be heard.

After a few minutes of staying on the line, you suddenly feel your cheeks becoming wet with your own tears. The silence comforts you in some way. The tightening in your chest is easier to bear when your mind forces you to believe that the person on the other line is someone you’re hoping for. The first call lasts a little more than thirty minutes, with you sobbing while the other side remains silent.

And just like clockwork, the same number calls you twice a month, every 9th and 21st. You’re delusional enough to think the caller chooses those dates because they’re yours and Yoongi’s birthdays, or at least that’s what your brain tells you to justify answering the calls over and over again.

The first four calls are just you crying on the other line. By the third month, you start sharing things that happen to you during the past few days. It doesn’t even matter that you never get a response back. You’re just happy to do so, like you’re updating the ghost from your past.

But there are a few things you refuse to touch on. First, you never mention the breakup or your attempts to move on from the pain you’re dealing with. Lastly, you never address the other person on the line as Yoongi, because, honestly, it’s a reach. Still, there’s a part of you that believes he’s on the other end because hell… who else would call you from Seoul?

You answer the call without batting an eye.

“It’s my birthday,” you start, your voice so small it’s almost a whisper.

As expected, the other line is just pure silence.

“I’m with my friends. We’re out drinking to celebrate me. God, it feels so long since the last time I felt celebrated. Am I happy? Maybe. You know what, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m drunk, but I’m not. I mean, yes, I am, but I’m sober at least when I see you calling…” you let out a breathy laugh.

“I think I’ve said this before to someone… someone I used to know. I tried to convince that person that I wasn’t drunk, but I was, and it led me to… k-kissing him. It’s cute. Not the kiss, but him. He’s cute. I always find him cute and charming and God, what am I saying?” you pause only to hear nothing on the other end.

“And then an unfortunate series of events starts happening. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end well, at least not for me. I made a mistake… no, not a mistake. Yeah, because you don’t want mistakes to happen again. If… if I ever got another chance, I would do it all over again. I would still kiss him that night in my house. I would still go to his— I would still stand in the crowd and watch him perform like he fucking owns the stage. But I wouldn’t go to Jeju after graduation… that… I want to change that. I would refuse to go even if I had to fight my parents because nothing feels right when I come back. I would also probably push him to tell me what that phone call was about, the one he received one afternoon at my house. I… I feel like it has something to do with everything. If I had only forced him to talk to me about it, maybe… maybe I wouldn’t feel like I want to… die,” you whisper the last word before pausing to stop yourself from weeping.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. Not anymore.” Your eyes blur from the stream of tears falling down your cheeks as you look up at the glowing neon sign across the road.

“I’m standing in front of our favorite place. I wanted to bring my friends here because I wanted karaoke on my birthday, but earlier I realized I fucking hate this place because it’s one of the places where I felt special. The food is delicious, and I love the ambiance it radiates, but I fucking hate how this place reminds me of the person I used to…” A sob escapes your lips as you feel the familiar sting jab at the center of your heart.

“Stop calling me. This is the last time you’ll ever get to contact me. I’m changing my number first thing in the morning. Yoongi… just let me go, please. I need to heal.”

You press the red button on your screen to end the call before collapsing onto the sidewalk with nothing to cling to except your weeping, broken heart.

— chapter fourteen

10 years later

It's been twenty minutes since you parked your car in the crowded parking lot of your high school, yet you still can't bring yourself to get out. Your forehead rests against the steering wheel as you try to steady yourself. You shouldn't be feeling this way. It's been ten years. You've moved on, you've healed, and visiting your old campus shouldn't be enough to drag old ghosts out of their graves.

Keep telling yourself that.

With a sigh, you lift your head and pull your keys from the ignition. The diamond ring on your finger catches the sunlight as you do, the sparkle almost mocking. You're getting married in a few months. The possibility of running into Yoongi at an alumni homecoming event shouldn't scare you this much.

There's a reason you never told your fiancé about tonight. A reason you made sure he couldn't offer to come with you. Why you did that, you honestly don't know.

Your heartbeat picks up as you approach the school gates. The familiar pathways welcome you with memories you never asked to revisit. Each step feels like retracing old footprints, following a version of yourself that no longer exists. Your chest tightens as you remember the countless mornings Yoongi walked beside you on this very path and the afternoons he waited to walk you home. It would've been nice if you'd ended up with him. That would've been a story worth telling your future children someday. The kind of love story people smiled at when they heard it. Not the one where you met Jun at a frat party during your sophomore year of college.

No. Pull yourself together.

You love your fiancé, and you're marrying him because he loves you back.

The event goes smoothly enough. There is still no sign of Yoongi, but his name drifts through conversations every now and then as people speculate whether he'll show up. Tonight marks the tenth anniversary of your graduating batch, and while the event is meant to bring former classmates together, it's also a fundraiser for the school's music and arts program for students with special needs. As always, the school proudly reminds everyone that its biggest sponsor over the years has been none other than SUGA of BTS.

A small smile tugs at your lips.

SUGA.

The stage name Yoongi chose.

You excuse yourself midway through the program under the pretense of using the restroom, but instead of heading toward the brightly lit hallway where the ladies' room is located, your feet carry you in the opposite direction. Before you know it, you're lifting the faded NO TRESPASSING sign out of the way and reaching for the rusty steel handle behind it. Without giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you slip through the old gate and are immediately greeted by a feeling so familiar it steals the air from your lungs.

You switch on your phone's flashlight and sweep the beam across the back of the school. The place feels smaller now than it did ten years ago. Maybe everything seems smaller when you've spent a decade growing around the memories attached to it. A painful ache settles in your chest as you walk forward, your gaze automatically drifting upward to the windows of your old classroom. For a split second, it feels as though you've been transported back in time.

Your vision has long since blurred with tears, but the first one finally spills down your cheek when you push past piles of rotting desks and overgrown weeds and step into the small hidden corner that used to belong to you and Yoongi.

Your eyes immediately find the concrete bench tucked away in the corner.

If that bench could talk, would it be disappointed to know that you and Yoongi never found your way back to each other?

Would the old tree standing a few feet away mourn with you if it knew how badly he broke your heart?

Time has changed almost everything about this place, yet the bench and the tree remain untouched. They stand exactly where they've always stood, silent witnesses to a love that once felt permanent. They heard every conversation you shared with the boy you loved. They watched stolen glances turn into lingering smiles, watched shy touches become warm embraces, watched innocent affection grow into something that consumed you whole. Standing here now, you find yourself wondering if they would grieve with you if they knew how the story ended.

The tears come harder after that.

You hate yourself for it.

After all these years, you're still standing in the ruins of a memory, crying over a boy who left.

You know better than this. You know you shouldn't be feeling this way. You're getting married in a few months. You're happy. You love your fiancé, and you're excited to build the life you've always dreamed of with him.

So for the last time, you reach into your bag and pull out the one thing you've kept hidden away for ten years.

A white lighter.

When Yoongi left, you threw away everything that reminded you of him. The photos, the letters, the gifts, the promises. Everything except this.

The lighter he gave you after carefully scratching both your initials onto its glossy surface.

Your thumb traces the faded engraving.

Y.G ♥ Y.N

The letters are worn with age, but they're still there.

Just like the memories.

Carefully, you place the lighter on top of the concrete bench and stare at it for a long moment. It looks strangely small sitting there alone, abandoned beneath the tree that once sheltered your secrets. Maybe that's fitting. Maybe some things are meant to remain in the places where they belonged.

Before your courage can fail, you turn around.

You don't look back.

Not at the bench.

Not at the tree.

Not at the lighter.

You make it all the way to your car, forcing yourself to swallow every remaining tear before climbing inside. Then you start the engine and drive away from the school, away from the memories, away from the version of yourself that spent years wondering what could have been.

And when you finally make it home, the lights are still on.

Jun is waiting for you.

Just as he always does.

— chapter fifteen

You nervously play with the ring on your finger as you pass by the huge buildings scattered along the busy highways of Seoul. Streetlights illuminate your face as your heart rate goes crazy by the second.

This is your first time in Seoul.

Ironic to think, actually. You're this big corporate girl who works for a company mainly situated in the biggest cities of your country and overseas, yet you haven't visited this city before, and you know the reason why.

Three years ago, you were offered a position at the office tucked away on the outskirts of Yongsan, complete with a huge salary, benefits, and housing. But you refused, saying that you weren't ready to leave your parents in Daegu, as well as your boyfriend then, fiancé now.

But who were you kidding anyway?

You knew that you were afraid to reside in the same city as the guy who broke your heart ten years ago, who was rarely even in the country to begin with.

In the last ten years, without much resolve, you've watched Yoongi's career climb to its peak. Who would've thought that the guy who used to make mixtapes sold for next to nothing would become one of the most sought-after producers and artists internationally?

And to see him reach his dream together with his friends, you cannot help but think that he left you for the best.

That all the heartbreak and relationship trauma etched into you were worth it.

All these years, you thought that March in Daegu was the worst, seeing all his posters and murals in every corner of the streets to celebrate his birthday. But clearly, you were wrong about that too, because March in Seoul is by far the worst of the worst.

Lamp posts are dressed in his posters, establishments wave his mini billboards, and bus stops and subway stations are littered with his pictures just for his birthday.

Your mind goes back to the first and last time you celebrated his birthday together. You haven't thought about it in years, but now you're curious to know whether he still has the guitar you gifted him, or if he left it behind in his house in Daegu.

Or maybe he discarded it long ago.

A bitter smile crosses your face when the image of him looking so happy while receiving the damn guitar passes through your mind.

"We're here," the taxi driver announces as the car halts in front of the hotel arranged by your company, which will be your home for the next twelve days.

Your suitcases are hauled out of the taxi, and the hotel staff welcome you and help you settle into your suite.

While lying in bed, you question yourself about how you ended up here tonight.

The answer is simple.

Your company has received one of its biggest contracts in the last decade.

As per your Regional Manager, Nabi, a very famous artist wants to commission your company to collaborate on a product that will soon hit the market. A food product wrapped around a public figure's name is not uncommon nowadays, but this one is different.

The identity of the artist has remained within the corners of the corporate offices and was never mentioned in any of the documents linked to this project that you've seen so far.

The anonymity is due to the significance of the project and, according to your boss, the artist and their company don't want anything leaking to the public before it is even greenlit.

Therefore, the stockpile of NDAs scattered throughout the corporate office makes sense.

Nabi should've been the one in your position right now, but with her being eight months pregnant, she decided not to stay far away from home, even if this project could mean a huge bonus and an instant promotion.

And you, being the Team Lead Researcher and one of the company's most valuable employees in the last five years, were chosen to replace the most qualified candidate.

You check yourself one last time in front of the mirror before heading out to start your first day of work in Seoul.

Your first agenda is to meet the team from your company based in Yongsan, the people you'll be working with throughout the entirety of this project.

Then you're scheduled for an afternoon meeting with the client's team and maybe, as stated in the email last week, the artist will be present if there are no conflicts in their schedule.

The morning meet-and-greet goes great.

You are officially working with a team of six, including yourself, and the awesome thing about all this is that you'll be working with people within your age bracket, along with a few who are younger.

Which only means one thing.

All the ideas that will flow through your vision board will be nothing but trendy and timely, and you're looking forward to it.

Your company has arranged an exclusive car service at your disposal at any given time, as long as it's connected to this project, which is a huge relief since you're not familiar with the roads and highways of Seoul.

The car stops in front of a massive, luxurious building, prompting everyone to get out.

A staff member is already waiting at the car bay to welcome and escort your team inside. But before you can even lift your head toward the tall façade of the building to see the huge illuminated sign, the name and logo written on the employee's ID catch your eye.

And with that, your blood runs cold.

There's no way.

No fucking way.

Your head snaps upward so fast to double-check that your vision isn't playing tricks on you. If it were possible to get whiplash from how aggressive your movement was, you'd have it by now.

There, right in front of your eyes, you read:

HYBE.

It is the company that handles BTS.

That handles Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

Fuck.

There is no way, right?

Your mind is everywhere while your heart is doing somersaults as you drag your feet behind the others.

You try to psych yourself up, reminding yourself that aside from BTS, there are plenty of artists and groups under this company who are also internationally famous.

There is no way BTS would release some food collaboration.

No.

They're bigger than that.

Right?

Your attention snaps back to reality as each of your team members starts setting up their laptops and iPads.

You haven't even realized that you're already sitting in one of the chairs at the long table stretched across a mid-sized meeting room, with a projector set up at the far end beside the door.

An employee from HYBE, whom you assume is taking the lead on the client's side of the project, starts rambling words you can't seem to understand.

Your focus isn't in this room.

Your heart hasn't calmed down since arriving.

There's a faint ringing in your ears, and your hands are becoming clammy.

Out of habit, you start fidgeting with your engagement ring.

You keep twisting it around your finger as if it's helping you calm the fuck down.

The rest of your team starts lightly clapping, accompanied by enthusiastic and excited expressions.

The Group Leader Researcher on your team nudges you lightly with her elbow, a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Huh?" you ask, looking at her in confusion.

"She said we'll be meeting the artist today because they happen to be free for the rest of the day," she whispers.

And with that, a loud commotion starts flowing through the hallway.

Overlapping conversations and noise can be heard inside the meeting room through the fully open door.

You scan the hallway, following the origin of the noise.

Your eyes fixate on the first person to appear at the end of the corridor.

With his blinding smile, you immediately recognize Hoseok.

Fuck.

Trailing behind him, your gaze lands on a face with pale skin and the softest eyes you've ever seen in your life.

Yoongi.

Your breath hitches.

No.

You stop breathing altogether.

You want to look away, but you can't.

It's been ten years since you last saw him in person.

You want to laugh at yourself for being struck by how much his appearance has changed over the years when you've literally been seeing his pictures everywhere since he debuted.

His eyes land on you as he walks through the door and, damn, you notice how he stops in his tracks.

How his eyes widen ever so slightly.

How his mouth parts just a little.

An expression passes over his face that you can't recognize.

Guilt?

Sadness?

Longing?

You cannot read him.

And God forbid, you want to know exactly what thoughts are running through his mind right now.

Is he expecting to see you?

Is he delighted?

Shocked?

Upset?

In your peripheral vision, you know that Hoseok and Namjoon are looking at you too, but your attention remains locked on the man whose eyes are fixed on yours.

Your team members stand and start shaking hands with the seven overly famous artists who have just entered the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Taking the deepest breath of your life, you do your best to compose yourself and, without hesitation, sneakily remove the shiny engagement ring from your finger and tuck it deep inside your pocket before shaking hands with the first man you ever loved.

a/n. SURPRISEEEEE! the original three-parter series will be having a part four! (look at that) 

a lot has happened to me in the two-ish months, some of which causes the delay of the part three. i also experienced the worst writing slump this year 😭 while i appreciate all the people who are asking when's the next update, i also feel a little guilty with how long this has been taking.

so, i did my best to deliver something because i love you all so much!! 🥹 i know this update is a little shorter than the previous ones, but really, i wanted to give something out (that's the reason why we will be having part four mehehe)

anyways,

as always, please let me know your thoughts! 💗 comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms are much welcome and appreciated. 

i wanted to hear your thoughts, opinion(?), anything especially on this update. and i just hope you like it as much 🫶🏻🫶🏻

WHAT'S NEW FOR PART FOUR?

i am changing my writing style (hope it's an upgrade, not a downgrade) i've been meaning to, since i am really eager to be better at writing, and also, WE WILL BE HAVING YOONGI'S POV!! how exciting is that? 👀

— chapter ten

“One, two, three—kimchiii!”

“Kimchiiii…”

“Aigoo, the two of you are really cute together!” your mom chirps as she hands your phone back after snapping the photo.

“Congratulations again, Yoongi-ah. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to Jeju?” she adds, her attention shifting warmly to him.

Your boyfriend offers a shy smile, politely declining your mom’s invitation for what feels like the nth time over the past couple of weeks.

“Just let Y/N know if you change your mind. We’d love to have you there… so we can have our own private time without this ladybug hogging us,” your dad chimes in teasingly.

Today marks your graduation as a senior high school student. You’ve been in an exclusive relationship with Yoongi for over four months now, that being said, you’ve already met each other’s parents.

From the very beginning, Yoongi has been nothing but respectful, polite, calm, and collected around your parents. Because of that, they’ve had no reason not to approve of him as your boyfriend. In fact, your mom absolutely adores him. Beyond being the first guy you’ve ever introduced to them, what truly won them over was how gently and consistently he takes care of you. As an only child with often-busy parents, that means more to them than anything.

And to you… it means everything.

These past few months have been the happiest you’ve ever been, and your relationship with Yoongi is the biggest reason why. He’s always there for you, especially during the times you felt like you were losing your mind over college entrance exams. He would stay up all night with you while you reviewed piles of thick textbooks, quietly keeping you company just in case you break down or needed someone to hold you together.

Earlier in your relationship, Yoongi shared his plans to take a gap year. He wanted to build a stronger portfolio for his music before applying to college, aiming to get into the university of his dreams. Naturally, he plans to major in music. You can see it clearly—Yoongi has a creative mind that seems to breathe life into anything related to it.

And as his girlfriend, you support him wholeheartedly.

You encourage him to seize every opportunity that comes his way during his gap year. You remind him to go the extra mile, to never box himself in, to explore, and to nurture his craft.

You promise to stand by him, no matter what. And he promises the same.

“Alright, you two enjoy the rest of your day. Make sure to let us know if you’ll be coming home tonight, Y/N,” your mom says, hugging you and Yoongi goodbye.

You wait for them to get inside the car before walking toward Yoongi’s parents, who have been waiting for him. They’ve invited you over for dinner for a small celebration—something you would never turn down, especially since his mom cooks the best local food, given that she owns a restaurant.

You and Yoongi sit at the back of the car on the way to his house. You watch him quietly as he gently circles his thumb over your hand, spacing out while staring outside. You’ve noticed that Yoongi has been a little quieter than usual these past few days—maybe even a week. If you told anyone, they’d say Yoongi has always been quiet, but you know better. You know he’s actually a yapper, especially when it comes to you.

Your mind drifts back to what happened a week ago, when you were hanging out in your room. You were reading a book while he strummed a few chords on the guitar you gifted him, trying to piece together a melody for a song he’d been working on.

Then his phone rang.

He excused himself to answer it, and after a few long minutes, he came back. He was smiling—but nervously. You tried asking what it was about, but he just shrugged and said it was related to what he’d been working toward, which you knew meant building his portfolio. You didn’t push further, because you’re used to him telling you everything eventually. You figured maybe it wasn’t good news, and he just needed time to process it before talking to you about it.

That very same day, the sex felt different. It’s very intimate, much more intimate than before—so much so that it was hard to forget. You remember how he took his time, tracing your body, kissing your lips, your neck, your skin—every part of you—so slowly. You can still remember the way he buried himself deep inside you, not rough like you were used to, but gentle, unhurried. He didn’t curse, didn’t let out a single swear word no matter how good it felt. Instead, he whispered soft affirmations, almost like he was worshipping you.

It was intimate, and you felt loved.

After that day, nothing seemed to change. Everything felt normal between the two of you—still happy, still secure. But lately, you’ve been noticing him spacing out more often. It’s not alarming, not enough for anyone else to point out, but as someone who spends every day with him, it’s noticeable.

Your train of thought were cut off when the car slows down in front of his house. He carefully guide you out and walks inside together holding hands.

During dinner, his parents are asking about your plans for college which somehow makes you a little uncomfortable because you know that they are against Yoongi taking a gap year. But you didn’t fret, you came prepared. You answer their questions politely, and when it naturally drifts off to Yoongi’s “poor” decision as they say, of taking a gap year and choosing music, you make sure to point out that taking gap year is normal and a wise decision if you are aiming to enter your dream university, and every now and then you make sure to point out that being in the world of creatives pays good money. You tried your best to respectfully burst the bubbles in their heads that there’s no money in art. Because it’s true, if it’s done right, and you managed to get your way to the top, art can pay tons of money. Luckily, his brother consistently backing you up all throughout the conversation. At the end of dinner—impressed by how smart you sounds, Yoongi’s father reminds him to not be stupid of letting you go ever which makes you a blushing mess.

You are lying in Yoongi’s bed when he gets out of the shower.

“Can I stay the night?” you ask.

Yoongi grins playfully, “You don't have to ask, you know that right?”

“Mm-hmm, just wanted to make sure my boyfriend is up for it.” you tease.

“Cute.” he chuckles.

“So, what you say—can I borrow a t-shirt so I can shower?”

You are already on your feet, flipping through his cabinet to search for your favorite white t-shirt, and when you found it, you catch Yoongi looking at you with full admiration. His eyes are sparkling, lips slightly curling a smile.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, just—my mind is already picturing the day where we’ll share, you know—everything.” he replies, voice soft and sincere.

If it's other guy, you’ll probably bolt through the door as fast as you can and say it's too early in your relationship to be thinking about those kind of things but it's not just any other guy—it’s Yoongi.

The guy who can make your heart flutter even with the simplest gestures, the guy who always meant what he says, the guy who can make you feel loved even without saying it out loud. The guy who takes care of you physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guy who makes you think of what your future house would look like with him in it.

It may sound insane and rash, but you’re totally seeing yourself settling with him. Not today, or next week, or next year, but soon.

“Now you're being sappy with me. What about I take a shower, then I’ll cheer you up?” you tease, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Yah! I’m being serious, don't make fun of me.” he pouts.

“—but fuck sappy hours. I will never turn down your offer. Hmm, cheering me up? Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, eyebrows wiggling as you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Can you text my mom and tell I’ll stay here tonight?” You pull away from Yoongi and retreat to the bathroom for a shower.

— chapter eleven

The white T-shirt you borrowed from Yoongi had long since been abandoned on the floor. Your lips move against his in a rush, messy and hungry pace, as you straddle his lap in nothing but your underwear. Yoongi cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer, pressing you deeper into the kiss. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth, drawing a muffled whimper from your lips.

You can feel him hardening between your thighs, and you roll your hips subtly, testing, teasing. The friction makes your breath hitch.

Slowly, you slide off his lap, breaking the kiss. You settle between his legs, your knees lays flat on the floor as Yoongi leans back on his hands, watching you.

Your hand finds his bulge, palming him through the fabric, feeling him grow under your touch. When you tug at the waistband of his pants, Yoongi lifts his hips slightly, helping you pull them down. The fabric pools around his feet, leaving him exposed, his cock flushed and heavy in the cool air.

Your grip is soft at first, almost curious, as your fingers wrap around his shaft. Your thumb brushes over his slit, spreading the pre-cum that beads at the tip. Then your tongue follows—warm, slow—circling the head, tasting him. It’s salty, but he tastes so good.

Yoongi lets out a strained groan, like it almost hurts. His hand flies to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, gripping a little tighter when you take him into your mouth in one smooth motion. Your lips seal around him, sinking deeper until you feel him press against the back of your throat.

You don’t stop. You push further, despite the gag that rises in your chest. By the time he’s fully sheathed in your mouth, Yoongi is a wreck—cursing under his breath, voice breaking.

Slowly, you pull back, releasing him with a soft pop. When you glance up at him, he looks undone—eyes glassy, chest rising and falling, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

“Jesus, baby… that’s so good.”

Your hand wraps around him again, steady at his base, as you lean in to drag your tongue along the underside of his length. His cock twitches against your nose.

Just as you’re about to swallow him in again, Yoongi stops you, his grip tightening gently.

“Hold on, baby—wait. I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he exhales. “Let me take care of you.”

A slow grin spreads across your lips at how uncomposed he is, a clear evidence that he’s losing his mind.

You rise to your feet and reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it somewhere across the room. Then you slide your panties down your legs, letting them fall just as carelessly to the floor.

Climbing back onto his lap, you settle over him again.

The moment your wet heat brushes against his cock, the friction sends a sharp wave through you. You let out a soft, unsteady moan as you instinctively grind down, your body reacting before you can think. Yoongi’s hands grip your hips tightly, his head falling back slightly as he hisses at the contact.

“Tonight’s all about you, baby.” you whisper as you grab his hard cock and line it against your heat.

Slowly, you sink down on him earning a ragged moan from the both of you. Your nails embed on his shoulders as you slowly sink deeper, feeling every vein and twitch against your soft warm walls. Yoongi is nothing different, his grasp on your hips tighten, eyes shut, and strings of low grunts are spilling endlessly out of his lips.

You pause for a moment when you bottom out, his twitching cock is sheathed all the way inside you. You can feel your walls flutter, the stretch is familiar yet still overwhelming. You press your forehead against his as you look him in the eye and he returns it.

His eyes are screaming desire, lust, worry? at the same time. When Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, you swivel your hips making him shut his eyes at your wake. His nails dig deeper in your hips, the kind where bruise will surely follow. Your breath falters as you continue grinding on top of him, his cock swiping every inch of your sensitive spots.

“Y-you sure about this?” he chokes.

“I’ve been thinking about this too much lately.”

Since the night in the cabin, you and Yoongi had shared incredible sex on the daily which made you question yourself a couple of times if the numbers are normal for a couple at your age. This time though hits different. Sure, you’ve taken control multiple times, rode his cock until you milk him dry but this is something new because for the first time, you’re doing it without a protection— no latex, no rubber in between. And as if the incredible sex with him can get better, you’re not ashamed to admit that this is phenomenal.

“You need to pull out of me when I— god! you feel so good— I-I don’t think I can pull out, baby. You need to do it yourself, kay?” Yoongi manage get his words out despite of losing all coherent thoughts with how delicious this new sensation is.

“Can I say something?” you ask before adding speed to your pace grinding.

“Sure, but you need to stop with the clenching because I’m really really close.”

“I started taking birth control three weeks ago.”

Yoongi flutters his eyes open, staring directly onto you with his dark gaze and appreciation glimmering on his brown orbs. Those eyes.

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t want you to do anything out of pressure.”

“Relax, I got myself checked first. And I wanted to do it for us, I’m more than willing to—fuck! fuck!” you shove your face in the crook of his neck, unable to finish your sentence when his cock brush against your g-spot, making you quiver with immensible pleasure.

Yoongi flips you so your back lay against the mattress while he hovers on top of you. With his swift hands, he lifts both of your legs on his chest, basically folding you in half as he rut himself without restraint. Your body moves half inch higher after each thrusts. Your toes curls involuntarily while he fucks you harder than he ever did before.

You cup both of your breasts in attempt to maximize the glorious sensation radiating all over your body then suddenly a jolt of sting spreads on your face when Yoongi’s palm meets your soft cheeks.

“Do it again, baby, please” you beg, tears brimming the side of your eyes.

Another slap landed on your cheeks earning a sultry moan from the mixture of pain and pleasure, and without realizing it, you come undone. Hot fluid gush out of your hole, covering Yoongi’s dick that’s pushing in and out of you relentlessly. An obscene wet noise coming from your dripping pussy getting destroyed flood the four corners of his room. You can’t help but clench, and clench, and clench, clamping your walls around his cock as you ride your high which sends Yoongi to his peak.

With a little hesitation pooling on his chest, Yoongi spills his release inside of you—all of it, burying himself as deeper as he could while he fiddles with your fingers.

Your eyes flutters as you watch him ride his orgasm before collapsing on top of you, snuggling against your warm embrace.

God, you’re so in love.

— chapter twelve

There is an extra skip in your step as you carry your luggage into the house. You spent the last five days at your grandmother’s home in Jeju with your parents as a graduation gift vacation, but no matter how breathtaking the places you visited were, your heart could not wait to return to Daegu and back to the love of your life.

A grin that had been plastered on your face since this morning was nowhere near fading. Yoongi slept early last night, saying he was tired from his day, and when you woke up this morning, his good morning message was the first thing you saw on your phone. After that, though, he had been radio silent all day.

Normally, you would already be pouty and upset by now, but you knew better. The thought that Yoongi might have something special prepared for your return had kept you in a good mood the entire day.

You send him a text while lying on your bed.

Hey, I’m home. Dinner together?

When the message goes unanswered for five minutes, you send another.

Busy? I miss you, please come over and hug me. I’m starting to forget your smell.

Another five minutes pass with nothing, so you send another text, and then another, until the third turns into a string of unanswered messages.

Don’t ignore me, Yoongi!!

Sorry, are you really busy?

I’m starting to think you’re breaking up with me or something.

Kidding…

Press one for proof of life.

Hey, it seems like you’re really busy. Kk, don’t want to be the annoying girlfriend. Text me when you’re available.

Yoongi, I know I said I wouldn’t be annoying, but you’re making me upset right now. It’s been four hours since I got back, and you haven’t replied since this morning. What’s up? I’m worried.

His lack of communication suddenly kills your appetite, enough for you to skip dinner altogether. You don’t know how long you stare at your phone waiting for his reply before you eventually fall asleep.

The next morning, you jolt awake. Your hands scramble through the sheets looking for your phone, hoping Yoongi’s reason for being radio silent all day yesterday would be enough to keep you from getting upset.

Instead, disappointment crashes over you when you see there isn’t a single text from him.

You make your way downstairs with a tiny bit of hope that your boyfriend is in the kitchen making breakfast, something he had done a couple of times ever since you introduced him to your parents. But the whole house is quiet. Not a single person is in sight. Your parents have already gone to work, leaving you completely alone.

You pick up your phone and dial his number as you get dressed. You are a patient woman, but everything has its limits. Whatever Yoongi is planning, a surprise or whatever the fuck it is, is not worth this kind of cold treatment.

Your eyebrows pinch together when the anger clouding your brain is suddenly replaced with genuine worry at the operator’s voice on the other line.

“I’m sorry, the number you dialed is unavailable and cannot be reached. Please try your call again later.”

Within minutes, you are outside hailing a taxi. He better have a good reason for turning off his phone, you think as the taxi drives toward his house.

You stand in front of his gate for God knows how long. There’s an uneasiness swelling in your chest that makes you hesitate to knock.

Yoongi isn’t like this, you tell yourself.

He knew you were coming home yesterday. You told him that before he went to sleep. You replay the days you spent in Jeju, but everything had seemed normal. You texted each other every single day, telling one another how much you missed each other. Before bed, he would call and listen to your stories about the places you visited.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot think of a single reason that would make him act like this.

If he were planning a surprise for you, he would never go an entire day without communication. No, Yoongi would never do that. He had been blowing up your phone since the moment you left for Jeju, constantly all over you ever since you started dating.

You know something is wrong.

Just as you are about to knock, you hear a voice behind you.

“Y/N?”

You turn on your heels to find Yoongi’s brother standing there, holding a plastic bag full of vegetables.

“Hey, is Yoo—”

“Already missing Yoongi?” he cuts you off with a sheepish grin.

Your brows furrow.

“Come on in. How long have you been here?”

You step inside while he holds the gate open for you.

“Not that long. Is Yoongi here?”

Jay, Yoongi’s brother, suddenly stops in his tracks and looks back at you with a frown, concern flickering across his face.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Uh… he hasn’t replied to my texts since yesterday. I tried calling him this morning, but his phone was turned off, so I decided to stop by and see if he’s okay.”

“Y/N… he didn’t tell you?”

Your stomach drops.

“Tell me what?”

“Yoongi moved to Seoul two days ago. He got accepted into a training program.”

“For what?”

“To become an idol.”

A loud, piercing ring fills your ears. Your vision blurs red, and for a second, it feels like your lungs stop working altogether.

You don’t know what to say.

Is this a prank? Is he joking?

No.

Jay’s face is nothing but serious. You can tell he is not messing with you.

You have no idea how long you stand there staring at him, or how long you remain silent. Your brain only seems to start functioning again when Jay lifts his phone to his ear. The line rings endlessly.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” Jay snaps once the voicemail picks up. “Y/N is here. Talk to her.”

He ends the call after leaving the message.

Then he looks at you carefully.

“You want his new number?”

“No.”

— chapter thirteen

It’s been three days since you found out that Yoongi left for Seoul without saying anything to you. You have no idea how to process such heartbreak simply because no one ever warned you that this type of breakup could happen to you. Yes, you call this a breakup since everything the two of you built together vanished the moment he ghosted you for his dreams.

Right… his dreams.

You should’ve seen the signs. For all the months you’ve been together, you haven’t heard him talk about his future with you in it. Not when every promise of getting off in his bed followed through.

The past few days have been hell, and it doesn’t improve much. You haven’t been getting proper sleep and barely eat. You refuse to tell your parents what really happened, but you know they already have an idea.

Another wave of pain tingles through your brain. You’ve been having migraines from crying these past few days, and today is no different. Although now, you’re crying for two reasons. One, because your boyfriend abandoned you like a piece of trash, and two, because you just tanked your interview at SNU.

Your college entrance interview was set earlier today, and your brain just shut off. Your confidence immediately flew out the window the moment they started asking questions. You couldn’t even speak properly, and you swear the interviewer noticed that you were one thread away from crying. There’s no way you passed that interview, so your chance of studying at your first-choice school is zero at this point.

Who wants to go to Seoul anyway?

Did Yoongi ever anticipate that you’d pass SNU? If so, why did he go to Seoul without telling you? He’s not stupid enough to forget that if you ever decided to go to SNU, there would be a chance you’d see him, or at least be in the same city as him.

Rivulets of tears stream from your eyes to your ears because of your own thoughts. You can think of a hundred ways to work around your relationship while studying in the same city as he chases his dreams of becoming an idol.

I guess I am not important enough to make it into his plans for the future. Just another thing at his disposal. A piece of ass he decided to leave in Daegu because idols are prohibited from dating during their first few years. Of course, no one wants a loophole that could sabotage his climb up the ladder of his career.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces once more as those truths cloud your brain. How could he leave you like that? How could he pretend and say he misses you and can’t wait for you to come back, only for you to return to him running away from everything you built together?

No, he didn’t run away. He disappeared because you were that easy to dispose of.

You log into your social media account and visit his page. He rarely uses social media, so you’re not sure what you’re even looking for. When there’s nothing to scroll through on his feed, you click the message button and send a voicemail.

Hey, I just wanted to know why you left. Please call me when you get this.

Just once. One more try at saving the sinking ship because God forbid you love the man who made you feel unimportant enough to leave without saying goodbye. Despite your resolve, your heart is more than willing to forget everything he’s done if he’ll just say he’s sorry.

8 months later

Your walk is a little wobbly as you try to get out of the BBQ pub with your friends beside you, giggling over something you can’t even remember. Your college friends think it’s best to celebrate your birthday, which falls on a Friday night, by stuffing yourselves with good meoksal and getting hammered. That’s how you end up face-fuck drunk with a bunch of wild nerds.

You look at one of your friends trying to hand you a cigarette.

“You know I don’t smoke,” you say in refusal.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N! Just try it so you don’t end up looking like a goody-goody among your friends.”

“No, thanks!”

“Yah! Stop pushing Y/N. This bitch has never smoked in her life. You don’t stand a chance,” your other friend chimes in, making the other walk away from you in defeat.

You just chuckle as you watch your friends drag on their cigarettes not too far from where you stand.

Only if you knew…

When Yoongi left you eight months ago, you tried your best to move on with your life no matter how hard it was. That includes everything that reminds you of him, and smoking is the first thing. It’s weird that the most common vice in the world reminds you of the person you both love and hate. You still get misty-eyed every time you see, hear, or smell something that reminds you of him. It’s been months, eight fucking months. You entered college, made new friends, developed new hobbies, and yet you still haven’t moved on.

How could you, though, if you have no idea where to start?

Your poor heart was shattered into a million little pieces left scattered on the floor, and no matter how much you want to fix everything, you don’t know where to begin. You don’t know which pieces to pick up first. Your confidence, trust, and happiness were ripped away from you. You don’t know what needs healing because everything inside you seems broken. It comes to the point where it hurts both emotionally and physically.

Your drifting thoughts are cut off by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You look at the caller ID and it says, “Seoul.”

You have no idea what you were thinking when you saved this phone number with the +82 area code. The call is coming from Seoul.

It’s not the first time this number has tried to call you.

The first time starts six months ago. When the number calls for the first time, you don’t answer. Then the next day it calls again while you’re in class, and once again you let it ring. That same night, when you’re about to sleep, your phone rings again with the same number calling. Without thinking much of it, you answer, but the line is silent.

No matter how many times you say, “Hello? Who’s this?” there’s nothing. Not even breathing can be heard.

After a few minutes of staying on the line, you suddenly feel your cheeks becoming wet with your own tears. The silence comforts you in some way. The tightening in your chest is easier to bear when your mind forces you to believe that the person on the other line is someone you’re hoping for. The first call lasts a little more than thirty minutes, with you sobbing while the other side remains silent.

And just like clockwork, the same number calls you twice a month, every 9th and 21st. You’re delusional enough to think the caller chooses those dates because they’re yours and Yoongi’s birthdays, or at least that’s what your brain tells you to justify answering the calls over and over again.

The first four calls are just you crying on the other line. By the third month, you start sharing things that happen to you during the past few days. It doesn’t even matter that you never get a response back. You’re just happy to do so, like you’re updating the ghost from your past.

But there are a few things you refuse to touch on. First, you never mention the breakup or your attempts to move on from the pain you’re dealing with. Lastly, you never address the other person on the line as Yoongi, because, honestly, it’s a reach. Still, there’s a part of you that believes he’s on the other end because hell… who else would call you from Seoul?

You answer the call without batting an eye.

“It’s my birthday,” you start, your voice so small it’s almost a whisper.

As expected, the other line is just pure silence.

“I’m with my friends. We’re out drinking to celebrate me. God, it feels so long since the last time I felt celebrated. Am I happy? Maybe. You know what, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m drunk, but I’m not. I mean, yes, I am, but I’m sober at least when I see you calling…” you let out a breathy laugh.

“I think I’ve said this before to someone… someone I used to know. I tried to convince that person that I wasn’t drunk, but I was, and it led me to… k-kissing him. It’s cute. Not the kiss, but him. He’s cute. I always find him cute and charming and God, what am I saying?” you pause only to hear nothing on the other end.

“And then an unfortunate series of events starts happening. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end well, at least not for me. I made a mistake… no, not a mistake. Yeah, because you don’t want mistakes to happen again. If… if I ever got another chance, I would do it all over again. I would still kiss him that night in my house. I would still go to his— I would still stand in the crowd and watch him perform like he fucking owns the stage. But I wouldn’t go to Jeju after graduation… that… I want to change that. I would refuse to go even if I had to fight my parents because nothing feels right when I come back. I would also probably push him to tell me what that phone call was about, the one he received one afternoon at my house. I… I feel like it has something to do with everything. If I had only forced him to talk to me about it, maybe… maybe I wouldn’t feel like I want to… die,” you whisper the last word before pausing to stop yourself from weeping.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. Not anymore.” Your eyes blur from the stream of tears falling down your cheeks as you look up at the glowing neon sign across the road.

“I’m standing in front of our favorite place. I wanted to bring my friends here because I wanted karaoke on my birthday, but earlier I realized I fucking hate this place because it’s one of the places where I felt special. The food is delicious, and I love the ambiance it radiates, but I fucking hate how this place reminds me of the person I used to…” A sob escapes your lips as you feel the familiar sting jab at the center of your heart.

“Stop calling me. This is the last time you’ll ever get to contact me. I’m changing my number first thing in the morning. Yoongi… just let me go, please. I need to heal.”

You press the red button on your screen to end the call before collapsing onto the sidewalk with nothing to cling to except your weeping, broken heart.

— chapter fourteen

10 years later

It's been twenty minutes since you parked your car in the crowded parking lot of your high school, yet you still can't bring yourself to get out. Your forehead rests against the steering wheel as you try to steady yourself. You shouldn't be feeling this way. It's been ten years. You've moved on, you've healed, and visiting your old campus shouldn't be enough to drag old ghosts out of their graves.

Keep telling yourself that.

With a sigh, you lift your head and pull your keys from the ignition. The diamond ring on your finger catches the sunlight as you do, the sparkle almost mocking. You're getting married in a few months. The possibility of running into Yoongi at an alumni homecoming event shouldn't scare you this much.

There's a reason you never told your fiancé about tonight. A reason you made sure he couldn't offer to come with you. Why you did that, you honestly don't know.

Your heartbeat picks up as you approach the school gates. The familiar pathways welcome you with memories you never asked to revisit. Each step feels like retracing old footprints, following a version of yourself that no longer exists. Your chest tightens as you remember the countless mornings Yoongi walked beside you on this very path and the afternoons he waited to walk you home. It would've been nice if you'd ended up with him. That would've been a story worth telling your future children someday. The kind of love story people smiled at when they heard it. Not the one where you met Jun at a frat party during your sophomore year of college.

No. Pull yourself together.

You love your fiancé, and you're marrying him because he loves you back.

The event goes smoothly enough. There is still no sign of Yoongi, but his name drifts through conversations every now and then as people speculate whether he'll show up. Tonight marks the tenth anniversary of your graduating batch, and while the event is meant to bring former classmates together, it's also a fundraiser for the school's music and arts program for students with special needs. As always, the school proudly reminds everyone that its biggest sponsor over the years has been none other than SUGA of BTS.

A small smile tugs at your lips.

SUGA.

The stage name Yoongi chose.

You excuse yourself midway through the program under the pretense of using the restroom, but instead of heading toward the brightly lit hallway where the ladies' room is located, your feet carry you in the opposite direction. Before you know it, you're lifting the faded NO TRESPASSING sign out of the way and reaching for the rusty steel handle behind it. Without giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you slip through the old gate and are immediately greeted by a feeling so familiar it steals the air from your lungs.

You switch on your phone's flashlight and sweep the beam across the back of the school. The place feels smaller now than it did ten years ago. Maybe everything seems smaller when you've spent a decade growing around the memories attached to it. A painful ache settles in your chest as you walk forward, your gaze automatically drifting upward to the windows of your old classroom. For a split second, it feels as though you've been transported back in time.

Your vision has long since blurred with tears, but the first one finally spills down your cheek when you push past piles of rotting desks and overgrown weeds and step into the small hidden corner that used to belong to you and Yoongi.

Your eyes immediately find the concrete bench tucked away in the corner.

If that bench could talk, would it be disappointed to know that you and Yoongi never found your way back to each other?

Would the old tree standing a few feet away mourn with you if it knew how badly he broke your heart?

Time has changed almost everything about this place, yet the bench and the tree remain untouched. They stand exactly where they've always stood, silent witnesses to a love that once felt permanent. They heard every conversation you shared with the boy you loved. They watched stolen glances turn into lingering smiles, watched shy touches become warm embraces, watched innocent affection grow into something that consumed you whole. Standing here now, you find yourself wondering if they would grieve with you if they knew how the story ended.

The tears come harder after that.

You hate yourself for it.

After all these years, you're still standing in the ruins of a memory, crying over a boy who left.

You know better than this. You know you shouldn't be feeling this way. You're getting married in a few months. You're happy. You love your fiancé, and you're excited to build the life you've always dreamed of with him.

So for the last time, you reach into your bag and pull out the one thing you've kept hidden away for ten years.

A white lighter.

When Yoongi left, you threw away everything that reminded you of him. The photos, the letters, the gifts, the promises. Everything except this.

The lighter he gave you after carefully scratching both your initials onto its glossy surface.

Your thumb traces the faded engraving.

Y.G ♥ Y.N

The letters are worn with age, but they're still there.

Just like the memories.

Carefully, you place the lighter on top of the concrete bench and stare at it for a long moment. It looks strangely small sitting there alone, abandoned beneath the tree that once sheltered your secrets. Maybe that's fitting. Maybe some things are meant to remain in the places where they belonged.

Before your courage can fail, you turn around.

You don't look back.

Not at the bench.

Not at the tree.

Not at the lighter.

You make it all the way to your car, forcing yourself to swallow every remaining tear before climbing inside. Then you start the engine and drive away from the school, away from the memories, away from the version of yourself that spent years wondering what could have been.

And when you finally make it home, the lights are still on.

Jun is waiting for you.

Just as he always does.

— chapter fifteen

You nervously play with the ring on your finger as you pass by the huge buildings scattered along the busy highways of Seoul. Streetlights illuminate your face as your heart rate goes crazy by the second.

This is your first time in Seoul.

Ironic to think, actually. You're this big corporate girl who works for a company mainly situated in the biggest cities of your country and overseas, yet you haven't visited this city before, and you know the reason why.

Three years ago, you were offered a position at the office tucked away on the outskirts of Yongsan, complete with a huge salary, benefits, and housing. But you refused, saying that you weren't ready to leave your parents in Daegu, as well as your boyfriend then, fiancé now.

But who were you kidding anyway?

You knew that you were afraid to reside in the same city as the guy who broke your heart ten years ago, who was rarely even in the country to begin with.

In the last ten years, without much resolve, you've watched Yoongi's career climb to its peak. Who would've thought that the guy who used to make mixtapes sold for next to nothing would become one of the most sought-after producers and artists internationally?

And to see him reach his dream together with his friends, you cannot help but think that he left you for the best.

That all the heartbreak and relationship trauma etched into you were worth it.

All these years, you thought that March in Daegu was the worst, seeing all his posters and murals in every corner of the streets to celebrate his birthday. But clearly, you were wrong about that too, because March in Seoul is by far the worst of the worst.

Lamp posts are dressed in his posters, establishments wave his mini billboards, and bus stops and subway stations are littered with his pictures just for his birthday.

Your mind goes back to the first and last time you celebrated his birthday together. You haven't thought about it in years, but now you're curious to know whether he still has the guitar you gifted him, or if he left it behind in his house in Daegu.

Or maybe he discarded it long ago.

A bitter smile crosses your face when the image of him looking so happy while receiving the damn guitar passes through your mind.

"We're here," the taxi driver announces as the car halts in front of the hotel arranged by your company, which will be your home for the next twelve days.

Your suitcases are hauled out of the taxi, and the hotel staff welcome you and help you settle into your suite.

While lying in bed, you question yourself about how you ended up here tonight.

The answer is simple.

Your company has received one of its biggest contracts in the last decade.

As per your Regional Manager, Nabi, a very famous artist wants to commission your company to collaborate on a product that will soon hit the market. A food product wrapped around a public figure's name is not uncommon nowadays, but this one is different.

The identity of the artist has remained within the corners of the corporate offices and was never mentioned in any of the documents linked to this project that you've seen so far.

The anonymity is due to the significance of the project and, according to your boss, the artist and their company don't want anything leaking to the public before it is even greenlit.

Therefore, the stockpile of NDAs scattered throughout the corporate office makes sense.

Nabi should've been the one in your position right now, but with her being eight months pregnant, she decided not to stay far away from home, even if this project could mean a huge bonus and an instant promotion.

And you, being the Team Lead Researcher and one of the company's most valuable employees in the last five years, were chosen to replace the most qualified candidate.

You check yourself one last time in front of the mirror before heading out to start your first day of work in Seoul.

Your first agenda is to meet the team from your company based in Yongsan, the people you'll be working with throughout the entirety of this project.

Then you're scheduled for an afternoon meeting with the client's team and maybe, as stated in the email last week, the artist will be present if there are no conflicts in their schedule.

The morning meet-and-greet goes great.

You are officially working with a team of six, including yourself, and the awesome thing about all this is that you'll be working with people within your age bracket, along with a few who are younger.

Which only means one thing.

All the ideas that will flow through your vision board will be nothing but trendy and timely, and you're looking forward to it.

Your company has arranged an exclusive car service at your disposal at any given time, as long as it's connected to this project, which is a huge relief since you're not familiar with the roads and highways of Seoul.

The car stops in front of a massive, luxurious building, prompting everyone to get out.

A staff member is already waiting at the car bay to welcome and escort your team inside. But before you can even lift your head toward the tall façade of the building to see the huge illuminated sign, the name and logo written on the employee's ID catch your eye.

And with that, your blood runs cold.

There's no way.

No fucking way.

Your head snaps upward so fast to double-check that your vision isn't playing tricks on you. If it were possible to get whiplash from how aggressive your movement was, you'd have it by now.

There, right in front of your eyes, you read:

HYBE.

It is the company that handles BTS.

That handles Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

Fuck.

There is no way, right?

Your mind is everywhere while your heart is doing somersaults as you drag your feet behind the others.

You try to psych yourself up, reminding yourself that aside from BTS, there are plenty of artists and groups under this company who are also internationally famous.

There is no way BTS would release some food collaboration.

No.

They're bigger than that.

Right?

Your attention snaps back to reality as each of your team members starts setting up their laptops and iPads.

You haven't even realized that you're already sitting in one of the chairs at the long table stretched across a mid-sized meeting room, with a projector set up at the far end beside the door.

An employee from HYBE, whom you assume is taking the lead on the client's side of the project, starts rambling words you can't seem to understand.

Your focus isn't in this room.

Your heart hasn't calmed down since arriving.

There's a faint ringing in your ears, and your hands are becoming clammy.

Out of habit, you start fidgeting with your engagement ring.

You keep twisting it around your finger as if it's helping you calm the fuck down.

The rest of your team starts lightly clapping, accompanied by enthusiastic and excited expressions.

The Group Leader Researcher on your team nudges you lightly with her elbow, a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Huh?" you ask, looking at her in confusion.

"She said we'll be meeting the artist today because they happen to be free for the rest of the day," she whispers.

And with that, a loud commotion starts flowing through the hallway.

Overlapping conversations and noise can be heard inside the meeting room through the fully open door.

You scan the hallway, following the origin of the noise.

Your eyes fixate on the first person to appear at the end of the corridor.

With his blinding smile, you immediately recognize Hoseok.

Fuck.

Trailing behind him, your gaze lands on a face with pale skin and the softest eyes you've ever seen in your life.

Yoongi.

Your breath hitches.

No.

You stop breathing altogether.

You want to look away, but you can't.

It's been ten years since you last saw him in person.

You want to laugh at yourself for being struck by how much his appearance has changed over the years when you've literally been seeing his pictures everywhere since he debuted.

His eyes land on you as he walks through the door and, damn, you notice how he stops in his tracks.

How his eyes widen ever so slightly.

How his mouth parts just a little.

An expression passes over his face that you can't recognize.

Guilt?

Sadness?

Longing?

You cannot read him.

And God forbid, you want to know exactly what thoughts are running through his mind right now.

Is he expecting to see you?

Is he delighted?

Shocked?

Upset?

In your peripheral vision, you know that Hoseok and Namjoon are looking at you too, but your attention remains locked on the man whose eyes are fixed on yours.

Your team members stand and start shaking hands with the seven overly famous artists who have just entered the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Taking the deepest breath of your life, you do your best to compose yourself and, without hesitation, sneakily remove the shiny engagement ring from your finger and tuck it deep inside your pocket before shaking hands with the first man you ever loved.

a/n. SURPRISEEEEE! the original three-parter series will be having a part four! (look at that) 

a lot has happened to me in the two-ish months, some of which causes the delay of the part three. i also experienced the worst writing slump this year 😭 while i appreciate all the people who are asking when's the next update, i also feel a little guilty with how long this has been taking.

so, i did my best to deliver something because i love you all so much!! 🥹 i know this update is a little shorter than the previous ones, but really, i wanted to give something out (that's the reason why we will be having part four mehehe)

anyways,

as always, please let me know your thoughts! 💗 comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms are much welcome and appreciated. 

i wanted to hear your thoughts, opinion(?), anything especially on this update. and i just hope you like it as much 🫶🏻🫶🏻

WHAT'S NEW FOR PART FOUR?

i am changing my writing style (hope it's an upgrade, not a downgrade) i've been meaning to, since i am really eager to be better at writing, and also, WE WILL BE HAVING YOONGI'S POV!! how exciting is that? 👀

— chapter ten

“One, two, three—kimchiii!”

“Kimchiiii…”

“Aigoo, the two of you are really cute together!” your mom chirps as she hands your phone back after snapping the photo.

“Congratulations again, Yoongi-ah. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to Jeju?” she adds, her attention shifting warmly to him.

Your boyfriend offers a shy smile, politely declining your mom’s invitation for what feels like the nth time over the past couple of weeks.

“Just let Y/N know if you change your mind. We’d love to have you there… so we can have our own private time without this ladybug hogging us,” your dad chimes in teasingly.

Today marks your graduation as a senior high school student. You’ve been in an exclusive relationship with Yoongi for over four months now, that being said, you’ve already met each other’s parents.

From the very beginning, Yoongi has been nothing but respectful, polite, calm, and collected around your parents. Because of that, they’ve had no reason not to approve of him as your boyfriend. In fact, your mom absolutely adores him. Beyond being the first guy you’ve ever introduced to them, what truly won them over was how gently and consistently he takes care of you. As an only child with often-busy parents, that means more to them than anything.

And to you… it means everything.

These past few months have been the happiest you’ve ever been, and your relationship with Yoongi is the biggest reason why. He’s always there for you, especially during the times you felt like you were losing your mind over college entrance exams. He would stay up all night with you while you reviewed piles of thick textbooks, quietly keeping you company just in case you break down or needed someone to hold you together.

Earlier in your relationship, Yoongi shared his plans to take a gap year. He wanted to build a stronger portfolio for his music before applying to college, aiming to get into the university of his dreams. Naturally, he plans to major in music. You can see it clearly—Yoongi has a creative mind that seems to breathe life into anything related to it.

And as his girlfriend, you support him wholeheartedly.

You encourage him to seize every opportunity that comes his way during his gap year. You remind him to go the extra mile, to never box himself in, to explore, and to nurture his craft.

You promise to stand by him, no matter what. And he promises the same.

“Alright, you two enjoy the rest of your day. Make sure to let us know if you’ll be coming home tonight, Y/N,” your mom says, hugging you and Yoongi goodbye.

You wait for them to get inside the car before walking toward Yoongi’s parents, who have been waiting for him. They’ve invited you over for dinner for a small celebration—something you would never turn down, especially since his mom cooks the best local food, given that she owns a restaurant.

You and Yoongi sit at the back of the car on the way to his house. You watch him quietly as he gently circles his thumb over your hand, spacing out while staring outside. You’ve noticed that Yoongi has been a little quieter than usual these past few days—maybe even a week. If you told anyone, they’d say Yoongi has always been quiet, but you know better. You know he’s actually a yapper, especially when it comes to you.

Your mind drifts back to what happened a week ago, when you were hanging out in your room. You were reading a book while he strummed a few chords on the guitar you gifted him, trying to piece together a melody for a song he’d been working on.

Then his phone rang.

He excused himself to answer it, and after a few long minutes, he came back. He was smiling—but nervously. You tried asking what it was about, but he just shrugged and said it was related to what he’d been working toward, which you knew meant building his portfolio. You didn’t push further, because you’re used to him telling you everything eventually. You figured maybe it wasn’t good news, and he just needed time to process it before talking to you about it.

That very same day, the sex felt different. It’s very intimate, much more intimate than before—so much so that it was hard to forget. You remember how he took his time, tracing your body, kissing your lips, your neck, your skin—every part of you—so slowly. You can still remember the way he buried himself deep inside you, not rough like you were used to, but gentle, unhurried. He didn’t curse, didn’t let out a single swear word no matter how good it felt. Instead, he whispered soft affirmations, almost like he was worshipping you.

It was intimate, and you felt loved.

After that day, nothing seemed to change. Everything felt normal between the two of you—still happy, still secure. But lately, you’ve been noticing him spacing out more often. It’s not alarming, not enough for anyone else to point out, but as someone who spends every day with him, it’s noticeable.

Your train of thought were cut off when the car slows down in front of his house. He carefully guide you out and walks inside together holding hands.

During dinner, his parents are asking about your plans for college which somehow makes you a little uncomfortable because you know that they are against Yoongi taking a gap year. But you didn’t fret, you came prepared. You answer their questions politely, and when it naturally drifts off to Yoongi’s “poor” decision as they say, of taking a gap year and choosing music, you make sure to point out that taking gap year is normal and a wise decision if you are aiming to enter your dream university, and every now and then you make sure to point out that being in the world of creatives pays good money. You tried your best to respectfully burst the bubbles in their heads that there’s no money in art. Because it’s true, if it’s done right, and you managed to get your way to the top, art can pay tons of money. Luckily, his brother consistently backing you up all throughout the conversation. At the end of dinner—impressed by how smart you sounds, Yoongi’s father reminds him to not be stupid of letting you go ever which makes you a blushing mess.

You are lying in Yoongi’s bed when he gets out of the shower.

“Can I stay the night?” you ask.

Yoongi grins playfully, “You don't have to ask, you know that right?”

“Mm-hmm, just wanted to make sure my boyfriend is up for it.” you tease.

“Cute.” he chuckles.

“So, what you say—can I borrow a t-shirt so I can shower?”

You are already on your feet, flipping through his cabinet to search for your favorite white t-shirt, and when you found it, you catch Yoongi looking at you with full admiration. His eyes are sparkling, lips slightly curling a smile.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, just—my mind is already picturing the day where we’ll share, you know—everything.” he replies, voice soft and sincere.

If it's other guy, you’ll probably bolt through the door as fast as you can and say it's too early in your relationship to be thinking about those kind of things but it's not just any other guy—it’s Yoongi.

The guy who can make your heart flutter even with the simplest gestures, the guy who always meant what he says, the guy who can make you feel loved even without saying it out loud. The guy who takes care of you physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guy who makes you think of what your future house would look like with him in it.

It may sound insane and rash, but you’re totally seeing yourself settling with him. Not today, or next week, or next year, but soon.

“Now you're being sappy with me. What about I take a shower, then I’ll cheer you up?” you tease, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Yah! I’m being serious, don't make fun of me.” he pouts.

“—but fuck sappy hours. I will never turn down your offer. Hmm, cheering me up? Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, eyebrows wiggling as you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Can you text my mom and tell I’ll stay here tonight?” You pull away from Yoongi and retreat to the bathroom for a shower.

— chapter eleven

The white T-shirt you borrowed from Yoongi had long since been abandoned on the floor. Your lips move against his in a rush, messy and hungry pace, as you straddle his lap in nothing but your underwear. Yoongi cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer, pressing you deeper into the kiss. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth, drawing a muffled whimper from your lips.

You can feel him hardening between your thighs, and you roll your hips subtly, testing, teasing. The friction makes your breath hitch.

Slowly, you slide off his lap, breaking the kiss. You settle between his legs, your knees lays flat on the floor as Yoongi leans back on his hands, watching you.

Your hand finds his bulge, palming him through the fabric, feeling him grow under your touch. When you tug at the waistband of his pants, Yoongi lifts his hips slightly, helping you pull them down. The fabric pools around his feet, leaving him exposed, his cock flushed and heavy in the cool air.

Your grip is soft at first, almost curious, as your fingers wrap around his shaft. Your thumb brushes over his slit, spreading the pre-cum that beads at the tip. Then your tongue follows—warm, slow—circling the head, tasting him. It’s salty, but he tastes so good.

Yoongi lets out a strained groan, like it almost hurts. His hand flies to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, gripping a little tighter when you take him into your mouth in one smooth motion. Your lips seal around him, sinking deeper until you feel him press against the back of your throat.

You don’t stop. You push further, despite the gag that rises in your chest. By the time he’s fully sheathed in your mouth, Yoongi is a wreck—cursing under his breath, voice breaking.

Slowly, you pull back, releasing him with a soft pop. When you glance up at him, he looks undone—eyes glassy, chest rising and falling, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

“Jesus, baby… that’s so good.”

Your hand wraps around him again, steady at his base, as you lean in to drag your tongue along the underside of his length. His cock twitches against your nose.

Just as you’re about to swallow him in again, Yoongi stops you, his grip tightening gently.

“Hold on, baby—wait. I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he exhales. “Let me take care of you.”

A slow grin spreads across your lips at how uncomposed he is, a clear evidence that he’s losing his mind.

You rise to your feet and reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it somewhere across the room. Then you slide your panties down your legs, letting them fall just as carelessly to the floor.

Climbing back onto his lap, you settle over him again.

The moment your wet heat brushes against his cock, the friction sends a sharp wave through you. You let out a soft, unsteady moan as you instinctively grind down, your body reacting before you can think. Yoongi’s hands grip your hips tightly, his head falling back slightly as he hisses at the contact.

“Tonight’s all about you, baby.” you whisper as you grab his hard cock and line it against your heat.

Slowly, you sink down on him earning a ragged moan from the both of you. Your nails embed on his shoulders as you slowly sink deeper, feeling every vein and twitch against your soft warm walls. Yoongi is nothing different, his grasp on your hips tighten, eyes shut, and strings of low grunts are spilling endlessly out of his lips.

You pause for a moment when you bottom out, his twitching cock is sheathed all the way inside you. You can feel your walls flutter, the stretch is familiar yet still overwhelming. You press your forehead against his as you look him in the eye and he returns it.

His eyes are screaming desire, lust, worry? at the same time. When Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, you swivel your hips making him shut his eyes at your wake. His nails dig deeper in your hips, the kind where bruise will surely follow. Your breath falters as you continue grinding on top of him, his cock swiping every inch of your sensitive spots.

“Y-you sure about this?” he chokes.

“I’ve been thinking about this too much lately.”

Since the night in the cabin, you and Yoongi had shared incredible sex on the daily which made you question yourself a couple of times if the numbers are normal for a couple at your age. This time though hits different. Sure, you’ve taken control multiple times, rode his cock until you milk him dry but this is something new because for the first time, you’re doing it without a protection— no latex, no rubber in between. And as if the incredible sex with him can get better, you’re not ashamed to admit that this is phenomenal.

“You need to pull out of me when I— god! you feel so good— I-I don’t think I can pull out, baby. You need to do it yourself, kay?” Yoongi manage get his words out despite of losing all coherent thoughts with how delicious this new sensation is.

“Can I say something?” you ask before adding speed to your pace grinding.

“Sure, but you need to stop with the clenching because I’m really really close.”

“I started taking birth control three weeks ago.”

Yoongi flutters his eyes open, staring directly onto you with his dark gaze and appreciation glimmering on his brown orbs. Those eyes.

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t want you to do anything out of pressure.”

“Relax, I got myself checked first. And I wanted to do it for us, I’m more than willing to—fuck! fuck!” you shove your face in the crook of his neck, unable to finish your sentence when his cock brush against your g-spot, making you quiver with immensible pleasure.

Yoongi flips you so your back lay against the mattress while he hovers on top of you. With his swift hands, he lifts both of your legs on his chest, basically folding you in half as he rut himself without restraint. Your body moves half inch higher after each thrusts. Your toes curls involuntarily while he fucks you harder than he ever did before.

You cup both of your breasts in attempt to maximize the glorious sensation radiating all over your body then suddenly a jolt of sting spreads on your face when Yoongi’s palm meets your soft cheeks.

“Do it again, baby, please” you beg, tears brimming the side of your eyes.

Another slap landed on your cheeks earning a sultry moan from the mixture of pain and pleasure, and without realizing it, you come undone. Hot fluid gush out of your hole, covering Yoongi’s dick that’s pushing in and out of you relentlessly. An obscene wet noise coming from your dripping pussy getting destroyed flood the four corners of his room. You can’t help but clench, and clench, and clench, clamping your walls around his cock as you ride your high which sends Yoongi to his peak.

With a little hesitation pooling on his chest, Yoongi spills his release inside of you—all of it, burying himself as deeper as he could while he fiddles with your fingers.

Your eyes flutters as you watch him ride his orgasm before collapsing on top of you, snuggling against your warm embrace.

God, you’re so in love.

— chapter twelve

There is an extra skip in your step as you carry your luggage into the house. You spent the last five days at your grandmother’s home in Jeju with your parents as a graduation gift vacation, but no matter how breathtaking the places you visited were, your heart could not wait to return to Daegu and back to the love of your life.

A grin that had been plastered on your face since this morning was nowhere near fading. Yoongi slept early last night, saying he was tired from his day, and when you woke up this morning, his good morning message was the first thing you saw on your phone. After that, though, he had been radio silent all day.

Normally, you would already be pouty and upset by now, but you knew better. The thought that Yoongi might have something special prepared for your return had kept you in a good mood the entire day.

You send him a text while lying on your bed.

Hey, I’m home. Dinner together?

When the message goes unanswered for five minutes, you send another.

Busy? I miss you, please come over and hug me. I’m starting to forget your smell.

Another five minutes pass with nothing, so you send another text, and then another, until the third turns into a string of unanswered messages.

Don’t ignore me, Yoongi!!

Sorry, are you really busy?

I’m starting to think you’re breaking up with me or something.

Kidding…

Press one for proof of life.

Hey, it seems like you’re really busy. Kk, don’t want to be the annoying girlfriend. Text me when you’re available.

Yoongi, I know I said I wouldn’t be annoying, but you’re making me upset right now. It’s been four hours since I got back, and you haven’t replied since this morning. What’s up? I’m worried.

His lack of communication suddenly kills your appetite, enough for you to skip dinner altogether. You don’t know how long you stare at your phone waiting for his reply before you eventually fall asleep.

The next morning, you jolt awake. Your hands scramble through the sheets looking for your phone, hoping Yoongi’s reason for being radio silent all day yesterday would be enough to keep you from getting upset.

Instead, disappointment crashes over you when you see there isn’t a single text from him.

You make your way downstairs with a tiny bit of hope that your boyfriend is in the kitchen making breakfast, something he had done a couple of times ever since you introduced him to your parents. But the whole house is quiet. Not a single person is in sight. Your parents have already gone to work, leaving you completely alone.

You pick up your phone and dial his number as you get dressed. You are a patient woman, but everything has its limits. Whatever Yoongi is planning, a surprise or whatever the fuck it is, is not worth this kind of cold treatment.

Your eyebrows pinch together when the anger clouding your brain is suddenly replaced with genuine worry at the operator’s voice on the other line.

“I’m sorry, the number you dialed is unavailable and cannot be reached. Please try your call again later.”

Within minutes, you are outside hailing a taxi. He better have a good reason for turning off his phone, you think as the taxi drives toward his house.

You stand in front of his gate for God knows how long. There’s an uneasiness swelling in your chest that makes you hesitate to knock.

Yoongi isn’t like this, you tell yourself.

He knew you were coming home yesterday. You told him that before he went to sleep. You replay the days you spent in Jeju, but everything had seemed normal. You texted each other every single day, telling one another how much you missed each other. Before bed, he would call and listen to your stories about the places you visited.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot think of a single reason that would make him act like this.

If he were planning a surprise for you, he would never go an entire day without communication. No, Yoongi would never do that. He had been blowing up your phone since the moment you left for Jeju, constantly all over you ever since you started dating.

You know something is wrong.

Just as you are about to knock, you hear a voice behind you.

“Y/N?”

You turn on your heels to find Yoongi’s brother standing there, holding a plastic bag full of vegetables.

“Hey, is Yoo—”

“Already missing Yoongi?” he cuts you off with a sheepish grin.

Your brows furrow.

“Come on in. How long have you been here?”

You step inside while he holds the gate open for you.

“Not that long. Is Yoongi here?”

Jay, Yoongi’s brother, suddenly stops in his tracks and looks back at you with a frown, concern flickering across his face.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Uh… he hasn’t replied to my texts since yesterday. I tried calling him this morning, but his phone was turned off, so I decided to stop by and see if he’s okay.”

“Y/N… he didn’t tell you?”

Your stomach drops.

“Tell me what?”

“Yoongi moved to Seoul two days ago. He got accepted into a training program.”

“For what?”

“To become an idol.”

A loud, piercing ring fills your ears. Your vision blurs red, and for a second, it feels like your lungs stop working altogether.

You don’t know what to say.

Is this a prank? Is he joking?

No.

Jay’s face is nothing but serious. You can tell he is not messing with you.

You have no idea how long you stand there staring at him, or how long you remain silent. Your brain only seems to start functioning again when Jay lifts his phone to his ear. The line rings endlessly.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” Jay snaps once the voicemail picks up. “Y/N is here. Talk to her.”

He ends the call after leaving the message.

Then he looks at you carefully.

“You want his new number?”

“No.”

— chapter thirteen

It’s been three days since you found out that Yoongi left for Seoul without saying anything to you. You have no idea how to process such heartbreak simply because no one ever warned you that this type of breakup could happen to you. Yes, you call this a breakup since everything the two of you built together vanished the moment he ghosted you for his dreams.

Right… his dreams.

You should’ve seen the signs. For all the months you’ve been together, you haven’t heard him talk about his future with you in it. Not when every promise of getting off in his bed followed through.

The past few days have been hell, and it doesn’t improve much. You haven’t been getting proper sleep and barely eat. You refuse to tell your parents what really happened, but you know they already have an idea.

Another wave of pain tingles through your brain. You’ve been having migraines from crying these past few days, and today is no different. Although now, you’re crying for two reasons. One, because your boyfriend abandoned you like a piece of trash, and two, because you just tanked your interview at SNU.

Your college entrance interview was set earlier today, and your brain just shut off. Your confidence immediately flew out the window the moment they started asking questions. You couldn’t even speak properly, and you swear the interviewer noticed that you were one thread away from crying. There’s no way you passed that interview, so your chance of studying at your first-choice school is zero at this point.

Who wants to go to Seoul anyway?

Did Yoongi ever anticipate that you’d pass SNU? If so, why did he go to Seoul without telling you? He’s not stupid enough to forget that if you ever decided to go to SNU, there would be a chance you’d see him, or at least be in the same city as him.

Rivulets of tears stream from your eyes to your ears because of your own thoughts. You can think of a hundred ways to work around your relationship while studying in the same city as he chases his dreams of becoming an idol.

I guess I am not important enough to make it into his plans for the future. Just another thing at his disposal. A piece of ass he decided to leave in Daegu because idols are prohibited from dating during their first few years. Of course, no one wants a loophole that could sabotage his climb up the ladder of his career.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces once more as those truths cloud your brain. How could he leave you like that? How could he pretend and say he misses you and can’t wait for you to come back, only for you to return to him running away from everything you built together?

No, he didn’t run away. He disappeared because you were that easy to dispose of.

You log into your social media account and visit his page. He rarely uses social media, so you’re not sure what you’re even looking for. When there’s nothing to scroll through on his feed, you click the message button and send a voicemail.

Hey, I just wanted to know why you left. Please call me when you get this.

Just once. One more try at saving the sinking ship because God forbid you love the man who made you feel unimportant enough to leave without saying goodbye. Despite your resolve, your heart is more than willing to forget everything he’s done if he’ll just say he’s sorry.

8 months later

Your walk is a little wobbly as you try to get out of the BBQ pub with your friends beside you, giggling over something you can’t even remember. Your college friends think it’s best to celebrate your birthday, which falls on a Friday night, by stuffing yourselves with good meoksal and getting hammered. That’s how you end up face-fuck drunk with a bunch of wild nerds.

You look at one of your friends trying to hand you a cigarette.

“You know I don’t smoke,” you say in refusal.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N! Just try it so you don’t end up looking like a goody-goody among your friends.”

“No, thanks!”

“Yah! Stop pushing Y/N. This bitch has never smoked in her life. You don’t stand a chance,” your other friend chimes in, making the other walk away from you in defeat.

You just chuckle as you watch your friends drag on their cigarettes not too far from where you stand.

Only if you knew…

When Yoongi left you eight months ago, you tried your best to move on with your life no matter how hard it was. That includes everything that reminds you of him, and smoking is the first thing. It’s weird that the most common vice in the world reminds you of the person you both love and hate. You still get misty-eyed every time you see, hear, or smell something that reminds you of him. It’s been months, eight fucking months. You entered college, made new friends, developed new hobbies, and yet you still haven’t moved on.

How could you, though, if you have no idea where to start?

Your poor heart was shattered into a million little pieces left scattered on the floor, and no matter how much you want to fix everything, you don’t know where to begin. You don’t know which pieces to pick up first. Your confidence, trust, and happiness were ripped away from you. You don’t know what needs healing because everything inside you seems broken. It comes to the point where it hurts both emotionally and physically.

Your drifting thoughts are cut off by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You look at the caller ID and it says, “Seoul.”

You have no idea what you were thinking when you saved this phone number with the +82 area code. The call is coming from Seoul.

It’s not the first time this number has tried to call you.

The first time starts six months ago. When the number calls for the first time, you don’t answer. Then the next day it calls again while you’re in class, and once again you let it ring. That same night, when you’re about to sleep, your phone rings again with the same number calling. Without thinking much of it, you answer, but the line is silent.

No matter how many times you say, “Hello? Who’s this?” there’s nothing. Not even breathing can be heard.

After a few minutes of staying on the line, you suddenly feel your cheeks becoming wet with your own tears. The silence comforts you in some way. The tightening in your chest is easier to bear when your mind forces you to believe that the person on the other line is someone you’re hoping for. The first call lasts a little more than thirty minutes, with you sobbing while the other side remains silent.

And just like clockwork, the same number calls you twice a month, every 9th and 21st. You’re delusional enough to think the caller chooses those dates because they’re yours and Yoongi’s birthdays, or at least that’s what your brain tells you to justify answering the calls over and over again.

The first four calls are just you crying on the other line. By the third month, you start sharing things that happen to you during the past few days. It doesn’t even matter that you never get a response back. You’re just happy to do so, like you’re updating the ghost from your past.

But there are a few things you refuse to touch on. First, you never mention the breakup or your attempts to move on from the pain you’re dealing with. Lastly, you never address the other person on the line as Yoongi, because, honestly, it’s a reach. Still, there’s a part of you that believes he’s on the other end because hell… who else would call you from Seoul?

You answer the call without batting an eye.

“It’s my birthday,” you start, your voice so small it’s almost a whisper.

As expected, the other line is just pure silence.

“I’m with my friends. We’re out drinking to celebrate me. God, it feels so long since the last time I felt celebrated. Am I happy? Maybe. You know what, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m drunk, but I’m not. I mean, yes, I am, but I’m sober at least when I see you calling…” you let out a breathy laugh.

“I think I’ve said this before to someone… someone I used to know. I tried to convince that person that I wasn’t drunk, but I was, and it led me to… k-kissing him. It’s cute. Not the kiss, but him. He’s cute. I always find him cute and charming and God, what am I saying?” you pause only to hear nothing on the other end.

“And then an unfortunate series of events starts happening. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end well, at least not for me. I made a mistake… no, not a mistake. Yeah, because you don’t want mistakes to happen again. If… if I ever got another chance, I would do it all over again. I would still kiss him that night in my house. I would still go to his— I would still stand in the crowd and watch him perform like he fucking owns the stage. But I wouldn’t go to Jeju after graduation… that… I want to change that. I would refuse to go even if I had to fight my parents because nothing feels right when I come back. I would also probably push him to tell me what that phone call was about, the one he received one afternoon at my house. I… I feel like it has something to do with everything. If I had only forced him to talk to me about it, maybe… maybe I wouldn’t feel like I want to… die,” you whisper the last word before pausing to stop yourself from weeping.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. Not anymore.” Your eyes blur from the stream of tears falling down your cheeks as you look up at the glowing neon sign across the road.

“I’m standing in front of our favorite place. I wanted to bring my friends here because I wanted karaoke on my birthday, but earlier I realized I fucking hate this place because it’s one of the places where I felt special. The food is delicious, and I love the ambiance it radiates, but I fucking hate how this place reminds me of the person I used to…” A sob escapes your lips as you feel the familiar sting jab at the center of your heart.

“Stop calling me. This is the last time you’ll ever get to contact me. I’m changing my number first thing in the morning. Yoongi… just let me go, please. I need to heal.”

You press the red button on your screen to end the call before collapsing onto the sidewalk with nothing to cling to except your weeping, broken heart.

— chapter fourteen

10 years later

It's been twenty minutes since you parked your car in the crowded parking lot of your high school, yet you still can't bring yourself to get out. Your forehead rests against the steering wheel as you try to steady yourself. You shouldn't be feeling this way. It's been ten years. You've moved on, you've healed, and visiting your old campus shouldn't be enough to drag old ghosts out of their graves.

Keep telling yourself that.

With a sigh, you lift your head and pull your keys from the ignition. The diamond ring on your finger catches the sunlight as you do, the sparkle almost mocking. You're getting married in a few months. The possibility of running into Yoongi at an alumni homecoming event shouldn't scare you this much.

There's a reason you never told your fiancé about tonight. A reason you made sure he couldn't offer to come with you. Why you did that, you honestly don't know.

Your heartbeat picks up as you approach the school gates. The familiar pathways welcome you with memories you never asked to revisit. Each step feels like retracing old footprints, following a version of yourself that no longer exists. Your chest tightens as you remember the countless mornings Yoongi walked beside you on this very path and the afternoons he waited to walk you home. It would've been nice if you'd ended up with him. That would've been a story worth telling your future children someday. The kind of love story people smiled at when they heard it. Not the one where you met Jun at a frat party during your sophomore year of college.

No. Pull yourself together.

You love your fiancé, and you're marrying him because he loves you back.

The event goes smoothly enough. There is still no sign of Yoongi, but his name drifts through conversations every now and then as people speculate whether he'll show up. Tonight marks the tenth anniversary of your graduating batch, and while the event is meant to bring former classmates together, it's also a fundraiser for the school's music and arts program for students with special needs. As always, the school proudly reminds everyone that its biggest sponsor over the years has been none other than SUGA of BTS.

A small smile tugs at your lips.

SUGA.

The stage name Yoongi chose.

You excuse yourself midway through the program under the pretense of using the restroom, but instead of heading toward the brightly lit hallway where the ladies' room is located, your feet carry you in the opposite direction. Before you know it, you're lifting the faded NO TRESPASSING sign out of the way and reaching for the rusty steel handle behind it. Without giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you slip through the old gate and are immediately greeted by a feeling so familiar it steals the air from your lungs.

You switch on your phone's flashlight and sweep the beam across the back of the school. The place feels smaller now than it did ten years ago. Maybe everything seems smaller when you've spent a decade growing around the memories attached to it. A painful ache settles in your chest as you walk forward, your gaze automatically drifting upward to the windows of your old classroom. For a split second, it feels as though you've been transported back in time.

Your vision has long since blurred with tears, but the first one finally spills down your cheek when you push past piles of rotting desks and overgrown weeds and step into the small hidden corner that used to belong to you and Yoongi.

Your eyes immediately find the concrete bench tucked away in the corner.

If that bench could talk, would it be disappointed to know that you and Yoongi never found your way back to each other?

Would the old tree standing a few feet away mourn with you if it knew how badly he broke your heart?

Time has changed almost everything about this place, yet the bench and the tree remain untouched. They stand exactly where they've always stood, silent witnesses to a love that once felt permanent. They heard every conversation you shared with the boy you loved. They watched stolen glances turn into lingering smiles, watched shy touches become warm embraces, watched innocent affection grow into something that consumed you whole. Standing here now, you find yourself wondering if they would grieve with you if they knew how the story ended.

The tears come harder after that.

You hate yourself for it.

After all these years, you're still standing in the ruins of a memory, crying over a boy who left.

You know better than this. You know you shouldn't be feeling this way. You're getting married in a few months. You're happy. You love your fiancé, and you're excited to build the life you've always dreamed of with him.

So for the last time, you reach into your bag and pull out the one thing you've kept hidden away for ten years.

A white lighter.

When Yoongi left, you threw away everything that reminded you of him. The photos, the letters, the gifts, the promises. Everything except this.

The lighter he gave you after carefully scratching both your initials onto its glossy surface.

Your thumb traces the faded engraving.

Y.G ♥ Y.N

The letters are worn with age, but they're still there.

Just like the memories.

Carefully, you place the lighter on top of the concrete bench and stare at it for a long moment. It looks strangely small sitting there alone, abandoned beneath the tree that once sheltered your secrets. Maybe that's fitting. Maybe some things are meant to remain in the places where they belonged.

Before your courage can fail, you turn around.

You don't look back.

Not at the bench.

Not at the tree.

Not at the lighter.

You make it all the way to your car, forcing yourself to swallow every remaining tear before climbing inside. Then you start the engine and drive away from the school, away from the memories, away from the version of yourself that spent years wondering what could have been.

And when you finally make it home, the lights are still on.

Jun is waiting for you.

Just as he always does.

— chapter fifteen

You nervously play with the ring on your finger as you pass by the huge buildings scattered along the busy highways of Seoul. Streetlights illuminate your face as your heart rate goes crazy by the second.

This is your first time in Seoul.

Ironic to think, actually. You're this big corporate girl who works for a company mainly situated in the biggest cities of your country and overseas, yet you haven't visited this city before, and you know the reason why.

Three years ago, you were offered a position at the office tucked away on the outskirts of Yongsan, complete with a huge salary, benefits, and housing. But you refused, saying that you weren't ready to leave your parents in Daegu, as well as your boyfriend then, fiancé now.

But who were you kidding anyway?

You knew that you were afraid to reside in the same city as the guy who broke your heart ten years ago, who was rarely even in the country to begin with.

In the last ten years, without much resolve, you've watched Yoongi's career climb to its peak. Who would've thought that the guy who used to make mixtapes sold for next to nothing would become one of the most sought-after producers and artists internationally?

And to see him reach his dream together with his friends, you cannot help but think that he left you for the best.

That all the heartbreak and relationship trauma etched into you were worth it.

All these years, you thought that March in Daegu was the worst, seeing all his posters and murals in every corner of the streets to celebrate his birthday. But clearly, you were wrong about that too, because March in Seoul is by far the worst of the worst.

Lamp posts are dressed in his posters, establishments wave his mini billboards, and bus stops and subway stations are littered with his pictures just for his birthday.

Your mind goes back to the first and last time you celebrated his birthday together. You haven't thought about it in years, but now you're curious to know whether he still has the guitar you gifted him, or if he left it behind in his house in Daegu.

Or maybe he discarded it long ago.

A bitter smile crosses your face when the image of him looking so happy while receiving the damn guitar passes through your mind.

"We're here," the taxi driver announces as the car halts in front of the hotel arranged by your company, which will be your home for the next twelve days.

Your suitcases are hauled out of the taxi, and the hotel staff welcome you and help you settle into your suite.

While lying in bed, you question yourself about how you ended up here tonight.

The answer is simple.

Your company has received one of its biggest contracts in the last decade.

As per your Regional Manager, Nabi, a very famous artist wants to commission your company to collaborate on a product that will soon hit the market. A food product wrapped around a public figure's name is not uncommon nowadays, but this one is different.

The identity of the artist has remained within the corners of the corporate offices and was never mentioned in any of the documents linked to this project that you've seen so far.

The anonymity is due to the significance of the project and, according to your boss, the artist and their company don't want anything leaking to the public before it is even greenlit.

Therefore, the stockpile of NDAs scattered throughout the corporate office makes sense.

Nabi should've been the one in your position right now, but with her being eight months pregnant, she decided not to stay far away from home, even if this project could mean a huge bonus and an instant promotion.

And you, being the Team Lead Researcher and one of the company's most valuable employees in the last five years, were chosen to replace the most qualified candidate.

You check yourself one last time in front of the mirror before heading out to start your first day of work in Seoul.

Your first agenda is to meet the team from your company based in Yongsan, the people you'll be working with throughout the entirety of this project.

Then you're scheduled for an afternoon meeting with the client's team and maybe, as stated in the email last week, the artist will be present if there are no conflicts in their schedule.

The morning meet-and-greet goes great.

You are officially working with a team of six, including yourself, and the awesome thing about all this is that you'll be working with people within your age bracket, along with a few who are younger.

Which only means one thing.

All the ideas that will flow through your vision board will be nothing but trendy and timely, and you're looking forward to it.

Your company has arranged an exclusive car service at your disposal at any given time, as long as it's connected to this project, which is a huge relief since you're not familiar with the roads and highways of Seoul.

The car stops in front of a massive, luxurious building, prompting everyone to get out.

A staff member is already waiting at the car bay to welcome and escort your team inside. But before you can even lift your head toward the tall façade of the building to see the huge illuminated sign, the name and logo written on the employee's ID catch your eye.

And with that, your blood runs cold.

There's no way.

No fucking way.

Your head snaps upward so fast to double-check that your vision isn't playing tricks on you. If it were possible to get whiplash from how aggressive your movement was, you'd have it by now.

There, right in front of your eyes, you read:

HYBE.

It is the company that handles BTS.

That handles Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

Fuck.

There is no way, right?

Your mind is everywhere while your heart is doing somersaults as you drag your feet behind the others.

You try to psych yourself up, reminding yourself that aside from BTS, there are plenty of artists and groups under this company who are also internationally famous.

There is no way BTS would release some food collaboration.

No.

They're bigger than that.

Right?

Your attention snaps back to reality as each of your team members starts setting up their laptops and iPads.

You haven't even realized that you're already sitting in one of the chairs at the long table stretched across a mid-sized meeting room, with a projector set up at the far end beside the door.

An employee from HYBE, whom you assume is taking the lead on the client's side of the project, starts rambling words you can't seem to understand.

Your focus isn't in this room.

Your heart hasn't calmed down since arriving.

There's a faint ringing in your ears, and your hands are becoming clammy.

Out of habit, you start fidgeting with your engagement ring.

You keep twisting it around your finger as if it's helping you calm the fuck down.

The rest of your team starts lightly clapping, accompanied by enthusiastic and excited expressions.

The Group Leader Researcher on your team nudges you lightly with her elbow, a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Huh?" you ask, looking at her in confusion.

"She said we'll be meeting the artist today because they happen to be free for the rest of the day," she whispers.

And with that, a loud commotion starts flowing through the hallway.

Overlapping conversations and noise can be heard inside the meeting room through the fully open door.

You scan the hallway, following the origin of the noise.

Your eyes fixate on the first person to appear at the end of the corridor.

With his blinding smile, you immediately recognize Hoseok.

Fuck.

Trailing behind him, your gaze lands on a face with pale skin and the softest eyes you've ever seen in your life.

Yoongi.

Your breath hitches.

No.

You stop breathing altogether.

You want to look away, but you can't.

It's been ten years since you last saw him in person.

You want to laugh at yourself for being struck by how much his appearance has changed over the years when you've literally been seeing his pictures everywhere since he debuted.

His eyes land on you as he walks through the door and, damn, you notice how he stops in his tracks.

How his eyes widen ever so slightly.

How his mouth parts just a little.

An expression passes over his face that you can't recognize.

Guilt?

Sadness?

Longing?

You cannot read him.

And God forbid, you want to know exactly what thoughts are running through his mind right now.

Is he expecting to see you?

Is he delighted?

Shocked?

Upset?

In your peripheral vision, you know that Hoseok and Namjoon are looking at you too, but your attention remains locked on the man whose eyes are fixed on yours.

Your team members stand and start shaking hands with the seven overly famous artists who have just entered the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Taking the deepest breath of your life, you do your best to compose yourself and, without hesitation, sneakily remove the shiny engagement ring from your finger and tuck it deep inside your pocket before shaking hands with the first man you ever loved.

a/n. SURPRISEEEEE! the original three-parter series will be having a part four! (look at that) 

a lot has happened to me in the two-ish months, some of which causes the delay of the part three. i also experienced the worst writing slump this year 😭 while i appreciate all the people who are asking when's the next update, i also feel a little guilty with how long this has been taking.

so, i did my best to deliver something because i love you all so much!! 🥹 i know this update is a little shorter than the previous ones, but really, i wanted to give something out (that's the reason why we will be having part four mehehe)

anyways,

as always, please let me know your thoughts! 💗 comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms are much welcome and appreciated. 

i wanted to hear your thoughts, opinion(?), anything especially on this update. and i just hope you like it as much 🫶🏻🫶🏻

WHAT'S NEW FOR PART FOUR?

i am changing my writing style (hope it's an upgrade, not a downgrade) i've been meaning to, since i am really eager to be better at writing, and also, WE WILL BE HAVING YOONGI'S POV!! how exciting is that? 👀

— chapter ten

“One, two, three—kimchiii!”

“Kimchiiii…”

“Aigoo, the two of you are really cute together!” your mom chirps as she hands your phone back after snapping the photo.

“Congratulations again, Yoongi-ah. Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to Jeju?” she adds, her attention shifting warmly to him.

Your boyfriend offers a shy smile, politely declining your mom’s invitation for what feels like the nth time over the past couple of weeks.

“Just let Y/N know if you change your mind. We’d love to have you there… so we can have our own private time without this ladybug hogging us,” your dad chimes in teasingly.

Today marks your graduation as a senior high school student. You’ve been in an exclusive relationship with Yoongi for over four months now, that being said, you’ve already met each other’s parents.

From the very beginning, Yoongi has been nothing but respectful, polite, calm, and collected around your parents. Because of that, they’ve had no reason not to approve of him as your boyfriend. In fact, your mom absolutely adores him. Beyond being the first guy you’ve ever introduced to them, what truly won them over was how gently and consistently he takes care of you. As an only child with often-busy parents, that means more to them than anything.

And to you… it means everything.

These past few months have been the happiest you’ve ever been, and your relationship with Yoongi is the biggest reason why. He’s always there for you, especially during the times you felt like you were losing your mind over college entrance exams. He would stay up all night with you while you reviewed piles of thick textbooks, quietly keeping you company just in case you break down or needed someone to hold you together.

Earlier in your relationship, Yoongi shared his plans to take a gap year. He wanted to build a stronger portfolio for his music before applying to college, aiming to get into the university of his dreams. Naturally, he plans to major in music. You can see it clearly—Yoongi has a creative mind that seems to breathe life into anything related to it.

And as his girlfriend, you support him wholeheartedly.

You encourage him to seize every opportunity that comes his way during his gap year. You remind him to go the extra mile, to never box himself in, to explore, and to nurture his craft.

You promise to stand by him, no matter what. And he promises the same.

“Alright, you two enjoy the rest of your day. Make sure to let us know if you’ll be coming home tonight, Y/N,” your mom says, hugging you and Yoongi goodbye.

You wait for them to get inside the car before walking toward Yoongi’s parents, who have been waiting for him. They’ve invited you over for dinner for a small celebration—something you would never turn down, especially since his mom cooks the best local food, given that she owns a restaurant.

You and Yoongi sit at the back of the car on the way to his house. You watch him quietly as he gently circles his thumb over your hand, spacing out while staring outside. You’ve noticed that Yoongi has been a little quieter than usual these past few days—maybe even a week. If you told anyone, they’d say Yoongi has always been quiet, but you know better. You know he’s actually a yapper, especially when it comes to you.

Your mind drifts back to what happened a week ago, when you were hanging out in your room. You were reading a book while he strummed a few chords on the guitar you gifted him, trying to piece together a melody for a song he’d been working on.

Then his phone rang.

He excused himself to answer it, and after a few long minutes, he came back. He was smiling—but nervously. You tried asking what it was about, but he just shrugged and said it was related to what he’d been working toward, which you knew meant building his portfolio. You didn’t push further, because you’re used to him telling you everything eventually. You figured maybe it wasn’t good news, and he just needed time to process it before talking to you about it.

That very same day, the sex felt different. It’s very intimate, much more intimate than before—so much so that it was hard to forget. You remember how he took his time, tracing your body, kissing your lips, your neck, your skin—every part of you—so slowly. You can still remember the way he buried himself deep inside you, not rough like you were used to, but gentle, unhurried. He didn’t curse, didn’t let out a single swear word no matter how good it felt. Instead, he whispered soft affirmations, almost like he was worshipping you.

It was intimate, and you felt loved.

After that day, nothing seemed to change. Everything felt normal between the two of you—still happy, still secure. But lately, you’ve been noticing him spacing out more often. It’s not alarming, not enough for anyone else to point out, but as someone who spends every day with him, it’s noticeable.

Your train of thought were cut off when the car slows down in front of his house. He carefully guide you out and walks inside together holding hands.

During dinner, his parents are asking about your plans for college which somehow makes you a little uncomfortable because you know that they are against Yoongi taking a gap year. But you didn’t fret, you came prepared. You answer their questions politely, and when it naturally drifts off to Yoongi’s “poor” decision as they say, of taking a gap year and choosing music, you make sure to point out that taking gap year is normal and a wise decision if you are aiming to enter your dream university, and every now and then you make sure to point out that being in the world of creatives pays good money. You tried your best to respectfully burst the bubbles in their heads that there’s no money in art. Because it’s true, if it’s done right, and you managed to get your way to the top, art can pay tons of money. Luckily, his brother consistently backing you up all throughout the conversation. At the end of dinner—impressed by how smart you sounds, Yoongi’s father reminds him to not be stupid of letting you go ever which makes you a blushing mess.

You are lying in Yoongi’s bed when he gets out of the shower.

“Can I stay the night?” you ask.

Yoongi grins playfully, “You don't have to ask, you know that right?”

“Mm-hmm, just wanted to make sure my boyfriend is up for it.” you tease.

“Cute.” he chuckles.

“So, what you say—can I borrow a t-shirt so I can shower?”

You are already on your feet, flipping through his cabinet to search for your favorite white t-shirt, and when you found it, you catch Yoongi looking at you with full admiration. His eyes are sparkling, lips slightly curling a smile.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, just—my mind is already picturing the day where we’ll share, you know—everything.” he replies, voice soft and sincere.

If it's other guy, you’ll probably bolt through the door as fast as you can and say it's too early in your relationship to be thinking about those kind of things but it's not just any other guy—it’s Yoongi.

The guy who can make your heart flutter even with the simplest gestures, the guy who always meant what he says, the guy who can make you feel loved even without saying it out loud. The guy who takes care of you physically, mentally, and emotionally. The guy who makes you think of what your future house would look like with him in it.

It may sound insane and rash, but you’re totally seeing yourself settling with him. Not today, or next week, or next year, but soon.

“Now you're being sappy with me. What about I take a shower, then I’ll cheer you up?” you tease, snaking your arms around his neck.

“Yah! I’m being serious, don't make fun of me.” he pouts.

“—but fuck sappy hours. I will never turn down your offer. Hmm, cheering me up? Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum in response, eyebrows wiggling as you press a soft kiss on his lips.

“Can you text my mom and tell I’ll stay here tonight?” You pull away from Yoongi and retreat to the bathroom for a shower.

— chapter eleven

The white T-shirt you borrowed from Yoongi had long since been abandoned on the floor. Your lips move against his in a rush, messy and hungry pace, as you straddle his lap in nothing but your underwear. Yoongi cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer, pressing you deeper into the kiss. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth, drawing a muffled whimper from your lips.

You can feel him hardening between your thighs, and you roll your hips subtly, testing, teasing. The friction makes your breath hitch.

Slowly, you slide off his lap, breaking the kiss. You settle between his legs, your knees lays flat on the floor as Yoongi leans back on his hands, watching you.

Your hand finds his bulge, palming him through the fabric, feeling him grow under your touch. When you tug at the waistband of his pants, Yoongi lifts his hips slightly, helping you pull them down. The fabric pools around his feet, leaving him exposed, his cock flushed and heavy in the cool air.

Your grip is soft at first, almost curious, as your fingers wrap around his shaft. Your thumb brushes over his slit, spreading the pre-cum that beads at the tip. Then your tongue follows—warm, slow—circling the head, tasting him. It’s salty, but he tastes so good.

Yoongi lets out a strained groan, like it almost hurts. His hand flies to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, gripping a little tighter when you take him into your mouth in one smooth motion. Your lips seal around him, sinking deeper until you feel him press against the back of your throat.

You don’t stop. You push further, despite the gag that rises in your chest. By the time he’s fully sheathed in your mouth, Yoongi is a wreck—cursing under his breath, voice breaking.

Slowly, you pull back, releasing him with a soft pop. When you glance up at him, he looks undone—eyes glassy, chest rising and falling, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

“Jesus, baby… that’s so good.”

Your hand wraps around him again, steady at his base, as you lean in to drag your tongue along the underside of his length. His cock twitches against your nose.

Just as you’re about to swallow him in again, Yoongi stops you, his grip tightening gently.

“Hold on, baby—wait. I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that,” he exhales. “Let me take care of you.”

A slow grin spreads across your lips at how uncomposed he is, a clear evidence that he’s losing his mind.

You rise to your feet and reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head before tossing it somewhere across the room. Then you slide your panties down your legs, letting them fall just as carelessly to the floor.

Climbing back onto his lap, you settle over him again.

The moment your wet heat brushes against his cock, the friction sends a sharp wave through you. You let out a soft, unsteady moan as you instinctively grind down, your body reacting before you can think. Yoongi’s hands grip your hips tightly, his head falling back slightly as he hisses at the contact.

“Tonight’s all about you, baby.” you whisper as you grab his hard cock and line it against your heat.

Slowly, you sink down on him earning a ragged moan from the both of you. Your nails embed on his shoulders as you slowly sink deeper, feeling every vein and twitch against your soft warm walls. Yoongi is nothing different, his grasp on your hips tighten, eyes shut, and strings of low grunts are spilling endlessly out of his lips.

You pause for a moment when you bottom out, his twitching cock is sheathed all the way inside you. You can feel your walls flutter, the stretch is familiar yet still overwhelming. You press your forehead against his as you look him in the eye and he returns it.

His eyes are screaming desire, lust, worry? at the same time. When Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, you swivel your hips making him shut his eyes at your wake. His nails dig deeper in your hips, the kind where bruise will surely follow. Your breath falters as you continue grinding on top of him, his cock swiping every inch of your sensitive spots.

“Y-you sure about this?” he chokes.

“I’ve been thinking about this too much lately.”

Since the night in the cabin, you and Yoongi had shared incredible sex on the daily which made you question yourself a couple of times if the numbers are normal for a couple at your age. This time though hits different. Sure, you’ve taken control multiple times, rode his cock until you milk him dry but this is something new because for the first time, you’re doing it without a protection— no latex, no rubber in between. And as if the incredible sex with him can get better, you’re not ashamed to admit that this is phenomenal.

“You need to pull out of me when I— god! you feel so good— I-I don’t think I can pull out, baby. You need to do it yourself, kay?” Yoongi manage get his words out despite of losing all coherent thoughts with how delicious this new sensation is.

“Can I say something?” you ask before adding speed to your pace grinding.

“Sure, but you need to stop with the clenching because I’m really really close.”

“I started taking birth control three weeks ago.”

Yoongi flutters his eyes open, staring directly onto you with his dark gaze and appreciation glimmering on his brown orbs. Those eyes.

“You don’t have to do that, I don’t want you to do anything out of pressure.”

“Relax, I got myself checked first. And I wanted to do it for us, I’m more than willing to—fuck! fuck!” you shove your face in the crook of his neck, unable to finish your sentence when his cock brush against your g-spot, making you quiver with immensible pleasure.

Yoongi flips you so your back lay against the mattress while he hovers on top of you. With his swift hands, he lifts both of your legs on his chest, basically folding you in half as he rut himself without restraint. Your body moves half inch higher after each thrusts. Your toes curls involuntarily while he fucks you harder than he ever did before.

You cup both of your breasts in attempt to maximize the glorious sensation radiating all over your body then suddenly a jolt of sting spreads on your face when Yoongi’s palm meets your soft cheeks.

“Do it again, baby, please” you beg, tears brimming the side of your eyes.

Another slap landed on your cheeks earning a sultry moan from the mixture of pain and pleasure, and without realizing it, you come undone. Hot fluid gush out of your hole, covering Yoongi’s dick that’s pushing in and out of you relentlessly. An obscene wet noise coming from your dripping pussy getting destroyed flood the four corners of his room. You can’t help but clench, and clench, and clench, clamping your walls around his cock as you ride your high which sends Yoongi to his peak.

With a little hesitation pooling on his chest, Yoongi spills his release inside of you—all of it, burying himself as deeper as he could while he fiddles with your fingers.

Your eyes flutters as you watch him ride his orgasm before collapsing on top of you, snuggling against your warm embrace.

God, you’re so in love.

— chapter twelve

There is an extra skip in your step as you carry your luggage into the house. You spent the last five days at your grandmother’s home in Jeju with your parents as a graduation gift vacation, but no matter how breathtaking the places you visited were, your heart could not wait to return to Daegu and back to the love of your life.

A grin that had been plastered on your face since this morning was nowhere near fading. Yoongi slept early last night, saying he was tired from his day, and when you woke up this morning, his good morning message was the first thing you saw on your phone. After that, though, he had been radio silent all day.

Normally, you would already be pouty and upset by now, but you knew better. The thought that Yoongi might have something special prepared for your return had kept you in a good mood the entire day.

You send him a text while lying on your bed.

Hey, I’m home. Dinner together?

When the message goes unanswered for five minutes, you send another.

Busy? I miss you, please come over and hug me. I’m starting to forget your smell.

Another five minutes pass with nothing, so you send another text, and then another, until the third turns into a string of unanswered messages.

Don’t ignore me, Yoongi!!

Sorry, are you really busy?

I’m starting to think you’re breaking up with me or something.

Kidding…

Press one for proof of life.

Hey, it seems like you’re really busy. Kk, don’t want to be the annoying girlfriend. Text me when you’re available.

Yoongi, I know I said I wouldn’t be annoying, but you’re making me upset right now. It’s been four hours since I got back, and you haven’t replied since this morning. What’s up? I’m worried.

His lack of communication suddenly kills your appetite, enough for you to skip dinner altogether. You don’t know how long you stare at your phone waiting for his reply before you eventually fall asleep.

The next morning, you jolt awake. Your hands scramble through the sheets looking for your phone, hoping Yoongi’s reason for being radio silent all day yesterday would be enough to keep you from getting upset.

Instead, disappointment crashes over you when you see there isn’t a single text from him.

You make your way downstairs with a tiny bit of hope that your boyfriend is in the kitchen making breakfast, something he had done a couple of times ever since you introduced him to your parents. But the whole house is quiet. Not a single person is in sight. Your parents have already gone to work, leaving you completely alone.

You pick up your phone and dial his number as you get dressed. You are a patient woman, but everything has its limits. Whatever Yoongi is planning, a surprise or whatever the fuck it is, is not worth this kind of cold treatment.

Your eyebrows pinch together when the anger clouding your brain is suddenly replaced with genuine worry at the operator’s voice on the other line.

“I’m sorry, the number you dialed is unavailable and cannot be reached. Please try your call again later.”

Within minutes, you are outside hailing a taxi. He better have a good reason for turning off his phone, you think as the taxi drives toward his house.

You stand in front of his gate for God knows how long. There’s an uneasiness swelling in your chest that makes you hesitate to knock.

Yoongi isn’t like this, you tell yourself.

He knew you were coming home yesterday. You told him that before he went to sleep. You replay the days you spent in Jeju, but everything had seemed normal. You texted each other every single day, telling one another how much you missed each other. Before bed, he would call and listen to your stories about the places you visited.

No matter how hard you try, you cannot think of a single reason that would make him act like this.

If he were planning a surprise for you, he would never go an entire day without communication. No, Yoongi would never do that. He had been blowing up your phone since the moment you left for Jeju, constantly all over you ever since you started dating.

You know something is wrong.

Just as you are about to knock, you hear a voice behind you.

“Y/N?”

You turn on your heels to find Yoongi’s brother standing there, holding a plastic bag full of vegetables.

“Hey, is Yoo—”

“Already missing Yoongi?” he cuts you off with a sheepish grin.

Your brows furrow.

“Come on in. How long have you been here?”

You step inside while he holds the gate open for you.

“Not that long. Is Yoongi here?”

Jay, Yoongi’s brother, suddenly stops in his tracks and looks back at you with a frown, concern flickering across his face.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Uh… he hasn’t replied to my texts since yesterday. I tried calling him this morning, but his phone was turned off, so I decided to stop by and see if he’s okay.”

“Y/N… he didn’t tell you?”

Your stomach drops.

“Tell me what?”

“Yoongi moved to Seoul two days ago. He got accepted into a training program.”

“For what?”

“To become an idol.”

A loud, piercing ring fills your ears. Your vision blurs red, and for a second, it feels like your lungs stop working altogether.

You don’t know what to say.

Is this a prank? Is he joking?

No.

Jay’s face is nothing but serious. You can tell he is not messing with you.

You have no idea how long you stand there staring at him, or how long you remain silent. Your brain only seems to start functioning again when Jay lifts his phone to his ear. The line rings endlessly.

“Yoongi, what the fuck?” Jay snaps once the voicemail picks up. “Y/N is here. Talk to her.”

He ends the call after leaving the message.

Then he looks at you carefully.

“You want his new number?”

“No.”

— chapter thirteen

It’s been three days since you found out that Yoongi left for Seoul without saying anything to you. You have no idea how to process such heartbreak simply because no one ever warned you that this type of breakup could happen to you. Yes, you call this a breakup since everything the two of you built together vanished the moment he ghosted you for his dreams.

Right… his dreams.

You should’ve seen the signs. For all the months you’ve been together, you haven’t heard him talk about his future with you in it. Not when every promise of getting off in his bed followed through.

The past few days have been hell, and it doesn’t improve much. You haven’t been getting proper sleep and barely eat. You refuse to tell your parents what really happened, but you know they already have an idea.

Another wave of pain tingles through your brain. You’ve been having migraines from crying these past few days, and today is no different. Although now, you’re crying for two reasons. One, because your boyfriend abandoned you like a piece of trash, and two, because you just tanked your interview at SNU.

Your college entrance interview was set earlier today, and your brain just shut off. Your confidence immediately flew out the window the moment they started asking questions. You couldn’t even speak properly, and you swear the interviewer noticed that you were one thread away from crying. There’s no way you passed that interview, so your chance of studying at your first-choice school is zero at this point.

Who wants to go to Seoul anyway?

Did Yoongi ever anticipate that you’d pass SNU? If so, why did he go to Seoul without telling you? He’s not stupid enough to forget that if you ever decided to go to SNU, there would be a chance you’d see him, or at least be in the same city as him.

Rivulets of tears stream from your eyes to your ears because of your own thoughts. You can think of a hundred ways to work around your relationship while studying in the same city as he chases his dreams of becoming an idol.

I guess I am not important enough to make it into his plans for the future. Just another thing at his disposal. A piece of ass he decided to leave in Daegu because idols are prohibited from dating during their first few years. Of course, no one wants a loophole that could sabotage his climb up the ladder of his career.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces once more as those truths cloud your brain. How could he leave you like that? How could he pretend and say he misses you and can’t wait for you to come back, only for you to return to him running away from everything you built together?

No, he didn’t run away. He disappeared because you were that easy to dispose of.

You log into your social media account and visit his page. He rarely uses social media, so you’re not sure what you’re even looking for. When there’s nothing to scroll through on his feed, you click the message button and send a voicemail.

Hey, I just wanted to know why you left. Please call me when you get this.

Just once. One more try at saving the sinking ship because God forbid you love the man who made you feel unimportant enough to leave without saying goodbye. Despite your resolve, your heart is more than willing to forget everything he’s done if he’ll just say he’s sorry.

8 months later

Your walk is a little wobbly as you try to get out of the BBQ pub with your friends beside you, giggling over something you can’t even remember. Your college friends think it’s best to celebrate your birthday, which falls on a Friday night, by stuffing yourselves with good meoksal and getting hammered. That’s how you end up face-fuck drunk with a bunch of wild nerds.

You look at one of your friends trying to hand you a cigarette.

“You know I don’t smoke,” you say in refusal.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N! Just try it so you don’t end up looking like a goody-goody among your friends.”

“No, thanks!”

“Yah! Stop pushing Y/N. This bitch has never smoked in her life. You don’t stand a chance,” your other friend chimes in, making the other walk away from you in defeat.

You just chuckle as you watch your friends drag on their cigarettes not too far from where you stand.

Only if you knew…

When Yoongi left you eight months ago, you tried your best to move on with your life no matter how hard it was. That includes everything that reminds you of him, and smoking is the first thing. It’s weird that the most common vice in the world reminds you of the person you both love and hate. You still get misty-eyed every time you see, hear, or smell something that reminds you of him. It’s been months, eight fucking months. You entered college, made new friends, developed new hobbies, and yet you still haven’t moved on.

How could you, though, if you have no idea where to start?

Your poor heart was shattered into a million little pieces left scattered on the floor, and no matter how much you want to fix everything, you don’t know where to begin. You don’t know which pieces to pick up first. Your confidence, trust, and happiness were ripped away from you. You don’t know what needs healing because everything inside you seems broken. It comes to the point where it hurts both emotionally and physically.

Your drifting thoughts are cut off by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You look at the caller ID and it says, “Seoul.”

You have no idea what you were thinking when you saved this phone number with the +82 area code. The call is coming from Seoul.

It’s not the first time this number has tried to call you.

The first time starts six months ago. When the number calls for the first time, you don’t answer. Then the next day it calls again while you’re in class, and once again you let it ring. That same night, when you’re about to sleep, your phone rings again with the same number calling. Without thinking much of it, you answer, but the line is silent.

No matter how many times you say, “Hello? Who’s this?” there’s nothing. Not even breathing can be heard.

After a few minutes of staying on the line, you suddenly feel your cheeks becoming wet with your own tears. The silence comforts you in some way. The tightening in your chest is easier to bear when your mind forces you to believe that the person on the other line is someone you’re hoping for. The first call lasts a little more than thirty minutes, with you sobbing while the other side remains silent.

And just like clockwork, the same number calls you twice a month, every 9th and 21st. You’re delusional enough to think the caller chooses those dates because they’re yours and Yoongi’s birthdays, or at least that’s what your brain tells you to justify answering the calls over and over again.

The first four calls are just you crying on the other line. By the third month, you start sharing things that happen to you during the past few days. It doesn’t even matter that you never get a response back. You’re just happy to do so, like you’re updating the ghost from your past.

But there are a few things you refuse to touch on. First, you never mention the breakup or your attempts to move on from the pain you’re dealing with. Lastly, you never address the other person on the line as Yoongi, because, honestly, it’s a reach. Still, there’s a part of you that believes he’s on the other end because hell… who else would call you from Seoul?

You answer the call without batting an eye.

“It’s my birthday,” you start, your voice so small it’s almost a whisper.

As expected, the other line is just pure silence.

“I’m with my friends. We’re out drinking to celebrate me. God, it feels so long since the last time I felt celebrated. Am I happy? Maybe. You know what, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m drunk, but I’m not. I mean, yes, I am, but I’m sober at least when I see you calling…” you let out a breathy laugh.

“I think I’ve said this before to someone… someone I used to know. I tried to convince that person that I wasn’t drunk, but I was, and it led me to… k-kissing him. It’s cute. Not the kiss, but him. He’s cute. I always find him cute and charming and God, what am I saying?” you pause only to hear nothing on the other end.

“And then an unfortunate series of events starts happening. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t end well, at least not for me. I made a mistake… no, not a mistake. Yeah, because you don’t want mistakes to happen again. If… if I ever got another chance, I would do it all over again. I would still kiss him that night in my house. I would still go to his— I would still stand in the crowd and watch him perform like he fucking owns the stage. But I wouldn’t go to Jeju after graduation… that… I want to change that. I would refuse to go even if I had to fight my parents because nothing feels right when I come back. I would also probably push him to tell me what that phone call was about, the one he received one afternoon at my house. I… I feel like it has something to do with everything. If I had only forced him to talk to me about it, maybe… maybe I wouldn’t feel like I want to… die,” you whisper the last word before pausing to stop yourself from weeping.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. Not anymore.” Your eyes blur from the stream of tears falling down your cheeks as you look up at the glowing neon sign across the road.

“I’m standing in front of our favorite place. I wanted to bring my friends here because I wanted karaoke on my birthday, but earlier I realized I fucking hate this place because it’s one of the places where I felt special. The food is delicious, and I love the ambiance it radiates, but I fucking hate how this place reminds me of the person I used to…” A sob escapes your lips as you feel the familiar sting jab at the center of your heart.

“Stop calling me. This is the last time you’ll ever get to contact me. I’m changing my number first thing in the morning. Yoongi… just let me go, please. I need to heal.”

You press the red button on your screen to end the call before collapsing onto the sidewalk with nothing to cling to except your weeping, broken heart.

— chapter fourteen

10 years later

It's been twenty minutes since you parked your car in the crowded parking lot of your high school, yet you still can't bring yourself to get out. Your forehead rests against the steering wheel as you try to steady yourself. You shouldn't be feeling this way. It's been ten years. You've moved on, you've healed, and visiting your old campus shouldn't be enough to drag old ghosts out of their graves.

Keep telling yourself that.

With a sigh, you lift your head and pull your keys from the ignition. The diamond ring on your finger catches the sunlight as you do, the sparkle almost mocking. You're getting married in a few months. The possibility of running into Yoongi at an alumni homecoming event shouldn't scare you this much.

There's a reason you never told your fiancé about tonight. A reason you made sure he couldn't offer to come with you. Why you did that, you honestly don't know.

Your heartbeat picks up as you approach the school gates. The familiar pathways welcome you with memories you never asked to revisit. Each step feels like retracing old footprints, following a version of yourself that no longer exists. Your chest tightens as you remember the countless mornings Yoongi walked beside you on this very path and the afternoons he waited to walk you home. It would've been nice if you'd ended up with him. That would've been a story worth telling your future children someday. The kind of love story people smiled at when they heard it. Not the one where you met Jun at a frat party during your sophomore year of college.

No. Pull yourself together.

You love your fiancé, and you're marrying him because he loves you back.

The event goes smoothly enough. There is still no sign of Yoongi, but his name drifts through conversations every now and then as people speculate whether he'll show up. Tonight marks the tenth anniversary of your graduating batch, and while the event is meant to bring former classmates together, it's also a fundraiser for the school's music and arts program for students with special needs. As always, the school proudly reminds everyone that its biggest sponsor over the years has been none other than SUGA of BTS.

A small smile tugs at your lips.

SUGA.

The stage name Yoongi chose.

You excuse yourself midway through the program under the pretense of using the restroom, but instead of heading toward the brightly lit hallway where the ladies' room is located, your feet carry you in the opposite direction. Before you know it, you're lifting the faded NO TRESPASSING sign out of the way and reaching for the rusty steel handle behind it. Without giving yourself a chance to reconsider, you slip through the old gate and are immediately greeted by a feeling so familiar it steals the air from your lungs.

You switch on your phone's flashlight and sweep the beam across the back of the school. The place feels smaller now than it did ten years ago. Maybe everything seems smaller when you've spent a decade growing around the memories attached to it. A painful ache settles in your chest as you walk forward, your gaze automatically drifting upward to the windows of your old classroom. For a split second, it feels as though you've been transported back in time.

Your vision has long since blurred with tears, but the first one finally spills down your cheek when you push past piles of rotting desks and overgrown weeds and step into the small hidden corner that used to belong to you and Yoongi.

Your eyes immediately find the concrete bench tucked away in the corner.

If that bench could talk, would it be disappointed to know that you and Yoongi never found your way back to each other?

Would the old tree standing a few feet away mourn with you if it knew how badly he broke your heart?

Time has changed almost everything about this place, yet the bench and the tree remain untouched. They stand exactly where they've always stood, silent witnesses to a love that once felt permanent. They heard every conversation you shared with the boy you loved. They watched stolen glances turn into lingering smiles, watched shy touches become warm embraces, watched innocent affection grow into something that consumed you whole. Standing here now, you find yourself wondering if they would grieve with you if they knew how the story ended.

The tears come harder after that.

You hate yourself for it.

After all these years, you're still standing in the ruins of a memory, crying over a boy who left.

You know better than this. You know you shouldn't be feeling this way. You're getting married in a few months. You're happy. You love your fiancé, and you're excited to build the life you've always dreamed of with him.

So for the last time, you reach into your bag and pull out the one thing you've kept hidden away for ten years.

A white lighter.

When Yoongi left, you threw away everything that reminded you of him. The photos, the letters, the gifts, the promises. Everything except this.

The lighter he gave you after carefully scratching both your initials onto its glossy surface.

Your thumb traces the faded engraving.

Y.G ♥ Y.N

The letters are worn with age, but they're still there.

Just like the memories.

Carefully, you place the lighter on top of the concrete bench and stare at it for a long moment. It looks strangely small sitting there alone, abandoned beneath the tree that once sheltered your secrets. Maybe that's fitting. Maybe some things are meant to remain in the places where they belonged.

Before your courage can fail, you turn around.

You don't look back.

Not at the bench.

Not at the tree.

Not at the lighter.

You make it all the way to your car, forcing yourself to swallow every remaining tear before climbing inside. Then you start the engine and drive away from the school, away from the memories, away from the version of yourself that spent years wondering what could have been.

And when you finally make it home, the lights are still on.

Jun is waiting for you.

Just as he always does.

— chapter fifteen

You nervously play with the ring on your finger as you pass by the huge buildings scattered along the busy highways of Seoul. Streetlights illuminate your face as your heart rate goes crazy by the second.

This is your first time in Seoul.

Ironic to think, actually. You're this big corporate girl who works for a company mainly situated in the biggest cities of your country and overseas, yet you haven't visited this city before, and you know the reason why.

Three years ago, you were offered a position at the office tucked away on the outskirts of Yongsan, complete with a huge salary, benefits, and housing. But you refused, saying that you weren't ready to leave your parents in Daegu, as well as your boyfriend then, fiancé now.

But who were you kidding anyway?

You knew that you were afraid to reside in the same city as the guy who broke your heart ten years ago, who was rarely even in the country to begin with.

In the last ten years, without much resolve, you've watched Yoongi's career climb to its peak. Who would've thought that the guy who used to make mixtapes sold for next to nothing would become one of the most sought-after producers and artists internationally?

And to see him reach his dream together with his friends, you cannot help but think that he left you for the best.

That all the heartbreak and relationship trauma etched into you were worth it.

All these years, you thought that March in Daegu was the worst, seeing all his posters and murals in every corner of the streets to celebrate his birthday. But clearly, you were wrong about that too, because March in Seoul is by far the worst of the worst.

Lamp posts are dressed in his posters, establishments wave his mini billboards, and bus stops and subway stations are littered with his pictures just for his birthday.

Your mind goes back to the first and last time you celebrated his birthday together. You haven't thought about it in years, but now you're curious to know whether he still has the guitar you gifted him, or if he left it behind in his house in Daegu.

Or maybe he discarded it long ago.

A bitter smile crosses your face when the image of him looking so happy while receiving the damn guitar passes through your mind.

"We're here," the taxi driver announces as the car halts in front of the hotel arranged by your company, which will be your home for the next twelve days.

Your suitcases are hauled out of the taxi, and the hotel staff welcome you and help you settle into your suite.

While lying in bed, you question yourself about how you ended up here tonight.

The answer is simple.

Your company has received one of its biggest contracts in the last decade.

As per your Regional Manager, Nabi, a very famous artist wants to commission your company to collaborate on a product that will soon hit the market. A food product wrapped around a public figure's name is not uncommon nowadays, but this one is different.

The identity of the artist has remained within the corners of the corporate offices and was never mentioned in any of the documents linked to this project that you've seen so far.

The anonymity is due to the significance of the project and, according to your boss, the artist and their company don't want anything leaking to the public before it is even greenlit.

Therefore, the stockpile of NDAs scattered throughout the corporate office makes sense.

Nabi should've been the one in your position right now, but with her being eight months pregnant, she decided not to stay far away from home, even if this project could mean a huge bonus and an instant promotion.

And you, being the Team Lead Researcher and one of the company's most valuable employees in the last five years, were chosen to replace the most qualified candidate.

You check yourself one last time in front of the mirror before heading out to start your first day of work in Seoul.

Your first agenda is to meet the team from your company based in Yongsan, the people you'll be working with throughout the entirety of this project.

Then you're scheduled for an afternoon meeting with the client's team and maybe, as stated in the email last week, the artist will be present if there are no conflicts in their schedule.

The morning meet-and-greet goes great.

You are officially working with a team of six, including yourself, and the awesome thing about all this is that you'll be working with people within your age bracket, along with a few who are younger.

Which only means one thing.

All the ideas that will flow through your vision board will be nothing but trendy and timely, and you're looking forward to it.

Your company has arranged an exclusive car service at your disposal at any given time, as long as it's connected to this project, which is a huge relief since you're not familiar with the roads and highways of Seoul.

The car stops in front of a massive, luxurious building, prompting everyone to get out.

A staff member is already waiting at the car bay to welcome and escort your team inside. But before you can even lift your head toward the tall façade of the building to see the huge illuminated sign, the name and logo written on the employee's ID catch your eye.

And with that, your blood runs cold.

There's no way.

No fucking way.

Your head snaps upward so fast to double-check that your vision isn't playing tricks on you. If it were possible to get whiplash from how aggressive your movement was, you'd have it by now.

There, right in front of your eyes, you read:

HYBE.

It is the company that handles BTS.

That handles Yoongi.

Min Yoongi.

Fuck.

There is no way, right?

Your mind is everywhere while your heart is doing somersaults as you drag your feet behind the others.

You try to psych yourself up, reminding yourself that aside from BTS, there are plenty of artists and groups under this company who are also internationally famous.

There is no way BTS would release some food collaboration.

No.

They're bigger than that.

Right?

Your attention snaps back to reality as each of your team members starts setting up their laptops and iPads.

You haven't even realized that you're already sitting in one of the chairs at the long table stretched across a mid-sized meeting room, with a projector set up at the far end beside the door.

An employee from HYBE, whom you assume is taking the lead on the client's side of the project, starts rambling words you can't seem to understand.

Your focus isn't in this room.

Your heart hasn't calmed down since arriving.

There's a faint ringing in your ears, and your hands are becoming clammy.

Out of habit, you start fidgeting with your engagement ring.

You keep twisting it around your finger as if it's helping you calm the fuck down.

The rest of your team starts lightly clapping, accompanied by enthusiastic and excited expressions.

The Group Leader Researcher on your team nudges you lightly with her elbow, a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Huh?" you ask, looking at her in confusion.

"She said we'll be meeting the artist today because they happen to be free for the rest of the day," she whispers.

And with that, a loud commotion starts flowing through the hallway.

Overlapping conversations and noise can be heard inside the meeting room through the fully open door.

You scan the hallway, following the origin of the noise.

Your eyes fixate on the first person to appear at the end of the corridor.

With his blinding smile, you immediately recognize Hoseok.

Fuck.

Trailing behind him, your gaze lands on a face with pale skin and the softest eyes you've ever seen in your life.

Yoongi.

Your breath hitches.

No.

You stop breathing altogether.

You want to look away, but you can't.

It's been ten years since you last saw him in person.

You want to laugh at yourself for being struck by how much his appearance has changed over the years when you've literally been seeing his pictures everywhere since he debuted.

His eyes land on you as he walks through the door and, damn, you notice how he stops in his tracks.

How his eyes widen ever so slightly.

How his mouth parts just a little.

An expression passes over his face that you can't recognize.

Guilt?

Sadness?

Longing?

You cannot read him.

And God forbid, you want to know exactly what thoughts are running through his mind right now.

Is he expecting to see you?

Is he delighted?

Shocked?

Upset?

In your peripheral vision, you know that Hoseok and Namjoon are looking at you too, but your attention remains locked on the man whose eyes are fixed on yours.

Your team members stand and start shaking hands with the seven overly famous artists who have just entered the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Taking the deepest breath of your life, you do your best to compose yourself and, without hesitation, sneakily remove the shiny engagement ring from your finger and tuck it deep inside your pocket before shaking hands with the first man you ever loved.

a/n. SURPRISEEEEE! the original three-parter series will be having a part four! (look at that) 

a lot has happened to me in the two-ish months, some of which causes the delay of the part three. i also experienced the worst writing slump this year 😭 while i appreciate all the people who are asking when's the next update, i also feel a little guilty with how long this has been taking.

so, i did my best to deliver something because i love you all so much!! 🥹 i know this update is a little shorter than the previous ones, but really, i wanted to give something out (that's the reason why we will be having part four mehehe)

anyways,

as always, please let me know your thoughts! 💗 comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms are much welcome and appreciated. 

i wanted to hear your thoughts, opinion(?), anything especially on this update. and i just hope you like it as much 🫶🏻🫶🏻

WHAT'S NEW FOR PART FOUR?

i am changing my writing style (hope it's an upgrade, not a downgrade) i've been meaning to, since i am really eager to be better at writing, and also, WE WILL BE HAVING YOONGI'S POV!! how exciting is that? 👀