#exes au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

felicitywrites · 2 years

Text

fragments | jimin x reader [special #1]

synopsis: your heart sank to your stomach as you stepped out of your room, and right there in your kitchen was the last person you ever wanted to see again. he acted as though he still lived there with you, knew each and every corner like the back of his hand and you blinked harshly trying to convince yourself you were dreaming.

impossible. this is impossible.

what was park jimin doing in your apartment, in your own loose bathrobe, pouring you a cup of coffee as he greeted you with that stupid smile on his face, when three years ago, you were certain he was out of your life forever as he left you here on your own and run into the arms of someone else? this should be a dream, you repeated.

until you figured out it actually wasn't -- because this was that day, the one before you confronted him about his affair.

unfortunately, you were about to relive the same day over and over again, and you had absolutely no idea as to why.

pairing: professor!jimin x author!reader

genre: 70% angst, 20% smut, 10% fluff

warnings: an emotional rollercoaster, infidelity, betrayal, self-destructive behaviors, unhealthy coping mechanisms, pining, toxic and abusive relationships, self-blaming, gaslighting, smut

word count: 12.8k

status: COMPLETED

song recs: milk & honey - billie marten (alt version) | the butterfly effect - before you exit | the other - lauv | who - lauv ft. bts

taglist: @mickmoon @mawwnsterr @peanutbutterjm @sweet--catastrophee @loljrau @bri-mal @christiandosworld @park-jimin-isnt-real

a/n: someone evil requested this so here you go. anyways, i'd like to point out one thing though, you need to read this without prejudice. it may not be enough to make sense of the ending but this is where maybe you get to see why things happened the way they did. hopefully.

[fic masterlist]

“Quick question, if I ask you out on a breakfast date, how would you feel?”

“Huh?” your mouth hung open, not knowing how to process the question itself - and the fact that this was the first time someone had asked you such a rhetorical question.

How was Jimin expecting you to answer?

Of course, any kind of date would make the butterflies inside your tummy go wild.

“Have you ever been on a breakfast date before?” he added, and the look on his face told you he was clearly anticipating a very specific reply, something gratifying.

You smiled, shaking your head as you twirled the pasta with your fork, eyes downcast on your plate you’d been dying to wipe clean but this man before you was too much of a distraction.

“To answer your first question, I would be happy. But… Why breakfast?”

To that, Jimin excitedly hummed, as if he’d been waiting for that moment. He straightened himself, placed his fork and knife back on his plate and looked at you. His eyes were full of life, and you needed a breather. Why were there stars in those eyes? You mentally questioned.

He grinned, resting back on his chair. “Ah, well, you see… I’m a professor, I work from 8AM to 5PM, on Thursdays and Fridays, I have evening classes so I won’t be home until 11PM. Which is why breakfast dates have become my thing. Lunch is okay, but it’s a bit uncomfortable because I’m usually under time pressure then.”

“And lunch is when you cram grading papers for your next class?” you joked, remembering a certain time in your university years when you met and liked one of your female professors who said not everyone in the field is best at planning and journaling. There are a few like her who were spontaneous, or most times, were extreme procrastinators.

You wondered which kind Jimin was.

“Excuse me, miss?” he scoffed, as if offended. “I don’t ever procrastinate. Ever. Namjoon can vouch for me..” he proudly tilted his head to the side, and you fought all odds not to swoon.

You could swear this man was going to be the end of you.

“Okay, guess I can consider that as… Me having no other choice than to go on an early breakfast date with you? That’s what this is, right?” At that point, you were dreading to run to the restroom and either take a breath or dig a grave for yourself, or both.

His shoulder relaxed, hands reaching for his fork and knife again to get back to his steak before giving you the most beautiful smile on a man you’ve ever seen.

“We’re going on a date then, at 6AM, I’ll pick you up…” he said so casually, without offering you a chance to decline. You never could, anyway.

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention solely on your food, ignoring whatever he’s still on about. Trying your best not to smell how good Park Jimin’s perfume was from your seat, you kept your gaze on your ruined plate, and his fond stares at your face went unnoticed.

He was about to mindlessly say, “You’re really pretty, do people tell you that a lot?” but caught himself before he did. It was easy, and he’s confident you wouldn’t feel uneasy since you’d been there with him for hours. You’ve had plenty of chances to leave and call it a night but you didn’t.

You were enjoying his company and it was obvious to him - just not to you.

By the time your first date ended and he drove you home, you were halfway through your skincare routine, masked up, hair-tied, watching a late night variety show when Namjoon interrupted your alone time with a call.

You winced at his goofy face on your screen before picking it up, putting him on loudspeaker.

“I know why you’re calling… It was great. Thanks, by the way.”

He laughed, and you heard shuffling, instantly recognizing the possible chaos in his office. “I told you, he’s nice. And hot, right? I’ve tried hooking him up with other colleagues but this is the first time I didn’t have to shove it into him. Just one picture of you with me and he’s nodding his head like a giddy child. He really likes you, Y/N.”

Even from the aloe vera mask on, you could feel the heat rising onto your cheeks. You had to slam the remote to switch off your TV and lay on your back on the bed, eyes at the ceiling.

You fiddled with the soft material of your pajamas and sighed, “He’s not overbearing, is he? A narcissist? A secret pathological liar? A serial killer? A hardcore–”

“Y/N,” Namjoon choked on his tea, pushing the cup back across the desk then he clutched on the armrest tightly. “He’s always been that sassy and confident. I lived in the dorms with him for years, he’s not a psychopath although he could be a little too assertive and it did annoy me sometimes.”

You nodded, shutting your eyes momentarily to picture his face again. Yeah, he seemed like the type to be confident about himself. And it’s even harder to resist how charming that made him because he’s a professor.

He’s good with words, articulate when he needs to be, smart, hardworking, funny… You stopped listing down his qualities, hearing the doorbell and a couple knocks on the front door.

“Joon? Someone’s here… Wait..”

“At this time of the night? Don’t open yet, look through the hole first. Tell me if—”

You skipped towards the hall and halted at your door, leaning over to peek into the peephole Namjoon himself requested the management for. He’s overprotective like that.

“Oh?” you gawked at the man standing behind the door, hands within his pockets. You held your chest with your hand before turning around to go full-on panic mode.

“Kim Namjoon!” you whisper-yelled, “Jimin’s here again! I mean, he went up and he’s right outside the door!” you were running into your room, tossing the device across the bed but it landed on the floor. You rushed to take off the mask and wipe your face, pulling at your tied hair so some of the strands would fall loosely on the sides.

“This will do,” you muttered, and dropped the call, leaving Namjoon speaking nonstop to himself. Inhaling deeply, you faced the door and swallowed as you unlocked it with your body stiffening.

You were greeted by the cold air of midnight, brushing past your skin through your thin cotton pajamas. Park Jimin stood a few steps away from the door, holding a small box in his hand.

It’s not a ring, is it? Impossible. He’s not that type to take things at a full speed, is he?

Your thoughts rambled in your head, eyes glued to the box while he’s staring at you with a smirk growing on his face. It took you a while to recover and when you did, Jimin was stepping closer to you, then slowly reached out to hand you the mysterious box.

He’s opening his mouth before you could even start asking questions after questions.

“I forgot to give this to you earlier. I saw it in my car and… it’s nothing much, but Joon told me you’d been finding it hard to organize your workload and–” you then cut him off, taking the box and harshly tearing it open, revealing a small digital timer in white, covered in bubble wrap.

“How much did he tell you about me? Even that part? Ridiculous…”

Anger started fueling inside you, internally cringing all the while staring at the timer that reminded you of when you started working at Kim Publishing.

“Have you heard of the Pomodoro Technique?” he suddenly asked, face gleaming with curiosity, and your stomach fluttering at the sight of his heavy breathing, telling you he ran all the way back to your apartment unit, sweat running down his jawline.

You’re on a deep-end and it was starting to feel batshit crazy.

You blinked, gulping down the chance you might drool right then and there. “Yeah, in college… Also from a few coworkers. I assume that's what this timer is for?”

He grinned, then nodded hard like a little kid. With his cheeks puffing up, added to the pink blush tinting them, you almost fell to the floor but held yourself straight and managed to take a step forward - for reasons you didn’t want to overthink not doing it when you get to bed.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

Jimin wasn’t sure if he was taken by you when he arrived at the restaurant that night, or in that moment when you were looking into his eyes with that gorgeous smile on your gorgeous face. He badly wanted to do something he’d thought of doing after some more dates with you - just to be certain you’re on the same page, but you were leaning in before he could gather his thoughts.

You’re going to kiss him on the cheek, somehow wishing it would send him a signal that he’d just passed another stage at getting you - because then you realized you liked him too. Maybe it wasn’t that bad to do it, right? You were on a date with him a few hours ago, if Namjoon told you his friend liked you, should it mean you–

An alarm suddenly went off in your head, the tune similar to your morning alarm tone of your mother singing, and as Jimin’s lips hover over yours so close you could feel his breath, you happened to hear your mother’s voice like it was your subconscious stopping you.

So you did, and you immediately backed away, hearing a teeny tiny gasp from him. Was he going to kiss you back? You harshly bit your lip and looked down, the air thickening around you and Jimin was in utter shock, both by you wanting to kiss him, and you stopping before you could.

“Sorry… I’m sorry, it’s quite late, uh… See you tomorrow? Thank you for this, I truly appreciate it…” you stammered, hands on your sides fumbling over nothing while he was at a loss for words.

If you had access to his mind, you would’ve seen the images he’d put in there about you, which he didn’t want you to know of course, at least not yet - but oh boy, his body’s taking him somewhere and it was tempting–

“Goodnight, Jimin! 6AM, right?” you burst out, and it was a squeal more than anything else. You don’t sleep with guys you’ve just met, not even kiss. It wasn’t a rule, in fact, there were times when you’ve thought about it, especially with that man standing before you.

It had just been a couple hours, Y/N! You scold yourself, whilst gripping the door tightly. You were losing and you knew you couldn’t. Either way, though, he’s letting himself release the possible stress he’d about to lose sleep over.

“Right, uh. I um.. I should go..?” he brought up an ‘OK’ using his thumb over his shoulder, awkwardly looking at you, and you felt like somehow, he deserved to hear your reason as to why you couldn’t kiss him yet. The last thing you wanted was for him to misinterpret it as something else.

“Wait, Jimin–” you held out for him as he turned around, your arm flailing in the air. He peered back and widened his eyes, and you cleared your throat. “It’s not that I don’t want to… you know,” you whispered, darting from his face down to your feet.

“Hey,” he smiled, “I get it. I understand, really… Don’t worry about it.”

“I just… I would like it if we take things slowly, I mean, if that’s okay with you?”

Uncertainty swirled inside you, and you were wondering what he was possibly thinking then. But as you scanned his expression, he spoke even before he could process his own thoughts. He spoke through the surge in his chest, the rapid beating of his heart.

“That would be nice. Let’s do it.”

He’s beaming, crescent eyes shimmering in the dimness of the hall outside your apartment unit. There’s the line you had to keep yourself from crossing, but you’re glad that you could see the willingness in him to follow your own pace.

Jimin liked you. He really did, and considering breakfast dates as your everyday thing didn’t sound so bad for you anymore, even if you had to wake up a little earlier than normal.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll be here…” he glanced at his watch, then back at you. “In 5 hours..” he grinned, shoulders raised as he slipped his hands into his pockets.

You chuckled softly then slowly shut the door when he turned back around and headed for the elevator, waving a hand at you once before entering and you waited until he’s gone.

Your breakfast date with Jimin for the first time was one for the books.

And it got better and better, the more breakfasts you spent together.

It didn’t take long for you to admit it to Namjoon, how you’ve started developing feelings for his friend. He was more than happy to help you with it, although you weren’t confident that he felt the same at that point.

That was, until Jimin came back home to his childhood home, to his parents – their persistence in pushing him to ‘pick’ any successful woman to marry, as if it was that easy… Marriage, that is.

“Remember that girl you dated in high school? What was her name? Well, we heard she’s a doctor now. Some type of surgeon? Why not find her?”

Jimin’s eyes twitched, his fingers went pale as he gripped his fork tightly. What did she just say?

“Mom,” he gritted his teeth, looked up and stopped chewing. “You’re joking, right?”

Look who he’s kidding. Jimin knew his mother wasn’t joking. She did want him to settle as soon as possible, and to be a very successful woman – like Yoojin. Yes. Like that woman who broke his heart.

His dad interrupted, wiping cloth over his mouth. “The Min’s… I think they’ve forgiven their daughter for what happened. Have you talked to her?”

“Okay, this is it. I’m done. I’m getting out of here…” Jimin slammed his hands on the table and pushed back his chair, clearly upset. Wishing their son a good marriage with an amazing wife is one thing, but wishing him to be wed to the same person who destroyed him is another.

Jimin hated hearing her name. Just remembering Min Yoojin was like a hard punch in his gut. If they knew the extent of what she had done to him and their relationship, maybe they would have understood – maybe not, because his parents only cared about what they wanted.

And what Jimin wanted? It was to meet someone who wouldn’t simply make him happy, but someone who would hold him, when things weren’t. Someone who’s a little bit stronger than him, but still vulnerable as he is. Someone who would be willing to see the end with him, not leave him hanging in the tracks… Someone permanent.

He’s in the midst of breaking down as he drives back to his apartment when you called, just right on time to offer him a hand.

“So… I made some cannolis. Ever had those? They’re amazing. Okay, are you busy tonight? Uh, I saw this old video shop down the street and wouldn’t you know, they still sell DVDs! There’s your favorite, what was that again?”

No answer.

“Jimin? Oh… Sorry, am I interrupting.. Sorry, maybe next time–”

“Five minutes. Be there in five,” he barely let out. You seemed to notice the distraught, the silent cries, the faint sniffles. “Something’s wrong? You want to talk about it?”

“I’m here…”

Colors drained out of your face, that was fast. You hurried to the door, fixed your sweats and hair before opening the door. You were right, something’s definitely wrong.

You wanted to jump in and wrap him in the warmest embrace you could ever give, but the look on his face as he stared at you was causing a roar within you. It felt like he was about to tear you down, maybe call it quits – whatever this thing was between you, or as if he was about to confess something horrible you haven’t heard in his life.

The cannolis were probably cold by then, you’d spent hours thinking if it was alright to invite him over. Ironically, words aren't your love language, perhaps it was a very long time ago… but with him, it’s…

Jimin left all his frustrations out the door, the thoughts of Yoojin, his parents who were never satisfied with him despite having achieved everything for them…

He pushed them out and stepped inside, swiftly removing his shoes and then walking towards you like the clock’s ticking faster by the second.

Your body was pulled into his firm arms before you could even blink, and it was then you realized that in that moment, you didn’t need words to tell him how you felt.

He was crying and smiling all the while smelling roses in your hair, and you were rubbing your palms behind him in comfort, chuckling at how strange her plans had turned out.

“It’s okay… Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“You… smell so good,” he blurted out of nowhere. You laughed harder, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “Just say I smell like dough, it’s okay.”

He pulled away, still holding you like you were about to run off. The seconds that came after were longer, especially for you. You were thinking a lot – of cold cannolis, of the mess in your kitchen, of whether you showered… How could you forget about that?

Jimin caught the little shifts in your expression, the way your eyebrows could tell when you’re happy or worried, or when your cheeks would change in their color depending on the level of your anger or excitement.

There’s a whole story just written all over your face, and oh, he would do anything to read through it over and over if he could.

If you would let him.

Which you did.

“Would you like to come in? Or.. are you here just for the food and the uh—the DVDs?”

“If it’s The Notebook, then yes. But I’d love to experience the pastries you made and maybe sit through any movies you picked, with you so…”

You grinned, and maybe it was a bit of a bad timing to do it – but something about the silence tugged and pulled at his heartstrings, and Jimin did what he’d thought of a million times since that first night he met you.

He kissed you.

The world around him drifted, and as he slipped his hand around your neck gently, head tilted to the side, your fears and worries dissipated into the air, into the narrow opening that closed shut as your lips met his and his other hand on your forearm.

It was the kiss that unlocked the lifetime you were going to share with him.

And maybe in seven years, you would regret that moment, wishing it didn’t happen… Maybe in the next forty years, you would smile through the tears because there were things you should’ve done first. Say, for example, give yourself more time - give him more time to open up.

Maybe you would have known the truth of why he was hurt, or who he was running from.

Maybe in three years, you would have given him a chance at saving you from your nightmares that turned into fears in the day.

Maybe.

But that moment was infinite. Like a thousand galaxies coming together, you and him were witnesses of a love that could bend and break, but also stay above all else hereafter.

Your mother fell in love with Jimin on the first day they met.

You’d never seen her that happy in so long. It almost felt like a daydream. The two of them faced each other, sharing stories of the war and the greatest movies of all time.

Jimin glanced over at you, expertly cleaning your aunt’s kitchen counter. You caught his stare, giving him half a smile before rolling your eyes at your mother whose arm was around him, clinging to him like he’s her grown-up child.

“I won’t be surprised if you’d once hoped I were a boy when I was a kid…” you joked, yet it sounded off. She shrugged it off, turning to Jimin. “Oh, did you hear that?”

He laughed along, and if you weren’t distracted by his crescent eyes and that crooked little tooth that you’re sure your mother had been obsessed with as well;

Then you wouldn’t have noticed how he’s beyond enamored by the relationship you had with your mother. He was happy seeing the two of you act childish together, lose the mother-daughter bond and become best friends who bicker over nonsense.

He silently envied you, for having a mom like that. Someone you can be completely honest with about everything, someone who treats you like the imperfect person you are – and is always open to teaching you the ways of life instead of shoving you into the world without a knowledge of anything, and then expecting you’d learn and adapt as fast.

He envied how your estranged relationship with your father, though it may have been a thorn hooked into your heart, became a reminder for you to take things as carefully as you can.

Jimin invited you to see his parents the week after that, and as expected, his parents weren’t that welcoming. Still, he admired how you handled their animosity towards you.

Or as they labeled it, ‘women like you.’

Your mother had asked you about Yoojin once when you were at the kitchen with her, you never told Jimin. You lied to her, saying you knew her even though you never did.

“She’s a college professor now, just like him…” she bragged, and you nodded, deciding not to seem interested in knowing the woman Jimin once loved in his life.

“It didn’t work out for them, I don’t know what my son did—”

“She cheated on him,” you mumbled, glad that the faucet’s running as Jimin entered the kitchen, making the tension disappear. “Mom? Dad wants you..”

You inhaled deeply when she excused herself, placing the last plate on the rack before wiping your hands on the apron his mother forced you to wear, saying Yoojin gave her that as a gift.

“Hey, what did she say?”

You swallowed, whipping your head with the smile you’ve plastered hard enough that he knew immediately it was forced.

“Nothing…”

He frowned, “Nothing?” He's quick to reach for your hand, “Pretty sure I heard that name again..”

That’s the thing. Jimin never liked saying her name. Min Yoojin. He told you about her, in bullet form, if you had to describe it. It was as if he listed down information on the woman he dated in college, memorized it and then recited them to you.

You never asked anything more.

Not even Namjoon heard anything from you.

You just know that he loved her, that it was almost like a fairytale, until she ran away into the arms of a much older man… Disappointed at how simple Jimin was becoming.

You always thought she’s a perfectionist, someone who was raised in a strict household, rich and powerful – people who believed mistakes shouldn’t have room in a person.

Maybe Yoojin didn’t like how heavy Jimin sleeps?

Or how he gives out retakes on his practical tests to offer his students a chance at passing?

Or when he’s being himself.

It didn’t matter, though. She’s not there anymore.

But you were.

Jimin didn’t care if it had only been three years. He was going to propose anyway.

He wanted a future with you. And the way you’d welcome him at home seemed obvious you wanted that too. You told him about having kids of your own, of living in a house on a farm when you grow old.

Though you never mentioned him in those little dreams of your future, a part of him knew at one point you pictured him in there too.

You wanted to be honest, he did appear on that porch sitting next to you.

Or that he cried on the day you’d given birth to your child.

Or that the ring he gave you had stopped being lonely in your finger… As he himself said it, one day he’ll add two more.

When Jimin called his parents to tell them what he wanted to do, they didn’t sound pleased, but they let him – though silently hoping it wouldn’t end the way he said it would.

Cruel. Life’s cruel.

He didn’t get to say it, not even get down on one knee because he learned the truth the hardest way possible. You’re never sure of him.

That you saw him as a reflection of your father, and that image turned your hopes into dust.

“I’m so sorry, Jimin. She’ll eventually realize how wrong she is about you… It’s our fault she’s like this…”

Or is it Jimin’s fault to believe there was a future for him, with you?

For the next two weeks, you were different.

You rarely ever spoke a word to him, and you started writing again. But you still sent him short love letters in his email, more than enough to get him through the rough day at work.

And whenever he’d come home in the evening, you’d sit on the couch with the saddest smiles he’d seen, but it'd shift into the biggest as soon as you saw him coming in.

He watched you sleep – something he used to do when he still had the energy to spare and keep his eyes open until you drift into your slumber.

Jimin watched and watched, each night, caressing you, searching the answers through the sound of your breathing. What made you feel uncertain of him?

What did he do wrong?

When did everything begin to feel… out of reach?

He couldn’t stop thinking about it since. Coming home was the best part of his day, until the thought of you leaving him would haunt him on his way back to your apartment.

The days felt longer than ever, and coming home scared him then, what if he opened the door and you’re not there anymore?

It sure felt like time was running out.

Three months later and you’re… on an invisible, thin thread.

“Hey love? Uh, did Namjoon call? We might have to stay in for another two hours. It’s the next edition. Anyways, we’ll catch up at 12?”

Pressing a thumb on the side of his forehead, Jimin swiveled in his chair, deep in thought.

He’d been thinking about a weekend with you, maybe a trip somewhere and it could be a way for both of you to bond and make up for the time when things were hectic.

Hours ago, he was on his work computer searching for places fit for a weekend getaway, imagining a perfect Sunday where you would walk down the stairs with him on your way to the beach, or you on a dress standing at a balcony looking out in the ocean, him by your side feeling content in your presence.

He believed you needed it too, even more so when he knew you’d been working triple times harder than ever, giving no time to come home and lay in bed with him while he’s still awake, and have breakfast the next morning.

The thought of asking Namjoon about your day instead would often pass him by, but he never did, not when your distance could mean so much more than what anyone would imagine, and Jimin didn’t want to pressure you on anything.

Hovering over your text on his phone screen, his finger quivered at reluctance. He could leave his paperwork and head home, maybe pick you up on his way so you could grab something to eat, but would that be alright with you?

Since when did it feel so odd to ask you how you felt?

Either way, Jimin had to try, otherwise he wouldn’t figure it out.

He texted back, “Do you want me to pick you up at 12? I’m still in the office but I can leave this work for tomorrow and drive home, should I wait for you to finish?”

Jimin felt a knot in his stomach as he sent his text, as if he could already feel the fall before it even happened. Those days were just him bracing for something devastating, it physically hurt.

Pushing his phone across his desk, he laid on his back and shut his eyes for the umpteenth time that day, seeing your face in an instant and the tight pull at his insides caught him breathless – choking almost.

He recalled the last time he felt suffocated, it was when he still lived with his parents. His mother would barge into his bedroom uninvited, listing down opportunities she wanted him to seek.

Jimin used to be a single-minded person, someone who silently craved simplicity but with a taste of perfection. Unlike his parents, he wanted great things – yet his way of getting them wasn’t sacrificial, he didn’t like too much pressure.

But he had to endure, as he felt it was the only road for him to find his escape one day. If he were to succeed like his parents wanted, then that would mean he could leave and be on his own.

Suffocating – love was like that for him, if he was to speak of his parents’ love. However, Yoojin’s love was something else. It was indescribable, more so like a whirlwind of passion and freedom.

Yoojin became his reason to leave his parents ultimately, the grip they had on his neck fell off when he told them he was going away with her.

He was free as soon as he held her hand.

Not knowing how choosing her would make everything even harder for him – staying with her would potentially get himself back to where he came from, how he was with his parents.

His phone rang and he was shaken, eyes narrowing in at the device vibrating across the wooden desk. It’s you. You were calling him, your face lit up the screen as the door to his faculty flew open.

Getting up, he grabbed his phone and answered, his head towards the doorway where someone stood by with a pile of books in both hands, panting heavily, short of breath.

His entire face drained all its color, one hand holding his phone right up by his ear while the other was on his side, seeking refuge on the hem of his pants.

“Hello? Love? Hi, uh, well.. We’re having coffee and some snacks Sooyoung bought, it’s crazy in here, you know? Namjoon is okay driving me home, you don’t need to, okay? Please come home and rest. We’ll catch up, I promise. Hmm? I’m so sorry, but you know how important this is for me. I might get that chance to pitch in my ideas and—”

“It’s okay, I understand… Let me know when you’re on your way, alright? I’ll see you at home.”

His words ran seamlessly, as though they were rehearsed. He had expected it’s possible that you wouldn’t want him to pick you up, or that there could be some other reasons why you couldn’t make it in time to talk to him.

It was the kind of fall that Jimin had learned to anticipate, to brace himself for.

“Bye, babe. I love you…” Your last three words sounded more of a question to him, but somehow, he seemed to have accepted that too. That perhaps, loving him and being with him didn’t feel the same anymore.

Maybe you did see your father a lot in him, that’s why.

Your voice resonated across the room, heard by another presence still shell-shocked at the door. Jimin didn’t say it back, and instead, he swallowed back the lump and locked his phone, slipping it into his drawer before taking a long, harbored breath.

Then there was silence.

A deafening one.

On the other line, you placed your phone back at the table, and you stared at the screen feeling rather empty. You couldn’t say why, there were no words to explain the numbness in your bones.

Sooyoung leaned over behind you, eyes on your phone where a photo of a lone house stood in the middle of a land, snowed in and cold. She shivered at the sight, at the feeling it evoked.

“Where’d you get that photo?”

You blinked as fast, recovering yourself. Looking up, you saw her sitting down beside you, reading your face. “It’s from a book. Anyway, should we go back? It’s been ten minutes.”

Sooyoung couldn’t read your mind, but she could feel the avoidance, the missing air around you for a while. Weeks ago, your wallpaper was your boyfriend. Then it was that depressing photo of a farmhouse covered in white.

Something was clearly wrong and she wished you would trust her with whatever you’re going through. What she didn’t know then was, you were beginning to feel something you’ve never felt before.

Out of place. You were feeling out of place. You never knew why, until it was too late.

The most impossible thing he once thought happened right in that moment.

Min Yoojin stood before him, looking just as he had last seen her, except that her hair’s different. She used to shine with her hair, she would spend a lot on caring for it so Jimin could still remember how annoyed she would get when chunks of it failed to cooperate.

He couldn’t process a word or two, not even a single “Hi” as something creeped at the back of his mind. What was she doing there? How did she end up in the same university as him?

He was certain Yoojin left him broken, swore she’d never appear in front of him anymore. She hated him at the very last day, for reasons she still hadn’t explained herself.

There really were no explanations, she just didn’t want someone simple in her life. Someone content like Jimin was becoming. She wanted someone who was out for perfection, and more.

Someone who wouldn’t stop at anything to achieve their dreams of success. The pressure took a toll on him, and Yoojin hated weakness on men. He was becoming weak, she needed more.

It didn’t seem like that though, as Jimin stared at her, mind filling with more questions he wished it was easy for him to ask.

“Park Jimin,” his head instantly lifted at that familiarity in that voice that laced a woman he once dedicated his whole life to. “They’re right, you work here. Wow…” she shook her head.

His eyebrows raised, wondering why there was sarcasm in her tone. “I.. I do. I work here. You–why are you here?”

She let out a chuckle, a rather dry, almost bitter one and he flinched at that. “What are the odds, well, I work here too. Since last month…”

Jimin’s brows fell and then creased, in disbelief of how he never heard of such news that she had started working there. “Hm, I didn’t know…”

Yoojin shrugged, lifting her hands that carried a pile of documents and for whatever reason, Jimin found himself skipping towards her, as if on autopilot. He took everything in his arms and she watched, a little surprised but she kept herself collected.

Mumbling a low “Thanks,” Jimin hurried to place them on top of his desk as he scanned each with curiosity. Yoojin reluctantly stepped closer, hands clasping behind her in caution over something she couldn’t explain.

“I found them in my office, uh, right in the drawers and… I thought of throwing them away but they–” Jimin turned around, facing her with one two-paged paper in hand. “They’re survey forms from last year.”

She nodded, smiling a bit. “Yes, from Kim Publishing? That’s… Namjoon’s company, isn’t it?”

He corrected her, “No, it’s still his parents but.. Yeah. They hold surveys here annually, at Liberal Arts. Mostly to figure how many are still interested in print magazines and physical books like–”

“L/N Y/N…” she’s now inches away from him, taking another set of paper from the pile and looking at it, then at Jimin. “She’s…” she stopped herself and glanced around, catching a frame sitting on a shelf. It’s one of your pictures with him, from a winter trip to Gangwon-do.

Jimin trailed her gaze, widening his eyes as he caught your face smiling back at him and Yoojin. The lump he forced to swallow minutes earlier came back, and his heart tightened at a pull it had on him.

Yoojin exhaled deeply, sitting herself on a chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs. “I’m assuming you met her through Joon? No?”

Heaving a sigh, Jimin licked his lips and returned to his chair, resting his back trying to find comfort amidst the tension in the air with Yoojin in the same room as him.

“I did,” he replied casually, looking at a distance. Yoojin was silent for a moment, searching for something in his eyes, his demeanor, there… there’s the sparkle lost somewhere in his face. The way his eyes glimmered, probably thinking of you as he answered.

There was no question if Jimin loved you, Yoojin could see it right there. She could feel it, even in between the gaps that separated his reaction to his worded reply.

If there was a problem, she knew it didn’t matter to him. He loved you. Perhaps, that was enough at that moment.

Against her better judgment though, Yoojin urged him to tell her more about you, intrigued by how much he had changed over the years. “What does she do? Is she a writer?”

Jimin sat upright, taking his glasses before pulling out a stack of papers Yoojin brought. He felt the need to distract himself while he talked. “Yes,” he said, reading onto the words from the forms before setting them aside.

“Is she good?”

“Yes, she is.”

“I see. She seems kind, too.”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

He gulped, tilting his head to meet her eyes that pierced through him. She’d moved her chair closer, head laying on her arm. Her hair fell across her face, blinding her sight a little but Jimin could see the pain rising on her skin, tears threatening their way any second.

“Three years..” he replied, “Tell me.. What are you doing here, really?” patience as thin as her willpower to keep herself composed. Three years. Jimin had found her replacement in a year.

Replacement. That was what you were to a woman like Min Yoojin. An insult, almost, to the woman who had everything she ever wanted in her life.

She wondered if you knew about her, if Jimin told you how much he worshiped her then, how everything he did – he did it for her.

Did Jimin love you the way he did with her?

Did he give you the world, and more?

Not realizing what he’s doing, Yoojin winced as she felt a grip on her shoulder, and Jimin stood beside her, glaring at her pathetically. He hated her still, she could feel that too.

Why wouldn’t he? Yoojin destroyed him. She made him feel like he wasn’t enough. She stomped on his pride, on the things he worked hard for. That’s not love, was it?

You loved him. Not once did he feel any less of a person when you were there. That woman in his office, she broke him, turned him into an empty shell of a man that he swore he would never become.

Jimin should be home waiting for you, not anywhere else.

He should be home, to you.

“You should leave, it’s late and I have to go home. Leave those files here, I’ll handle them.”

“I looked for you everywhere, Jimin. It’s how I got here.”

He scoffed, a hand on his hip as he turned away. “What a joke.. Go home, let’s pretend this conversation never happened.”

Yoojin got up, frazzled, “You thought you could just push me away, hm? No. Now that I know where you are, you will never get rid of me, you get that? Whatever it is that you’re going through with her, it’s most probably your fault. She must have seen how you–”

“I’m leaving, Yoojin, you should rest.”

Walking out wasn’t the best option for Jimin, but hurting Yoojin wasn’t either. He pushed off the words she’d thrown him, taking deep breaths on his way to the parking lot.

She could never get into his head, not anymore.

What he needed at that second as he stepped on the gas was to get home as fast as he could.

Home, to you.

The doors unlocked, the hallway to the living room was dark. Jimin blindly pressed on the lights, the yellow shade warming his presence. You walked out the elevator, seconds away from the front door shutting.

“Wait!” you yelled, catching the door before it automatically locked. Jimin peered over his shoulder, eyes darting from the bags in your hand, then to your face.

“Hey, we were calling you. Namjoon saw you exiting your car but you didn’t answer. I thought you’re already home–”

The bags fell to the ground as Jimin lifted you in his arms, in a tight embrace, one that made your heart flutter. Like it was the first time you were in such proximity. How long has it been since you hugged?

Has it been that long?

Buried in his chest, you smiled at the faint scent of his perfume. His tears ran down his cheeks, and they fell over your hair that smelled like roses – he’s home, at last.

You heard a small sniff and you’re pulling away instantly, holding his face in your warm hands. “Oh no no no why are you crying? What happened?”

He obliged as you dragged him to the couch, sat him down before running to the kitchen for a glass of water, forgetting about the bags by the doorway.

Jimin wiped his tears with a chuckle, and you returned with a frown, handing him the glass to drink. Sitting on the coffee table in front of him, you inspected his face closely.

It was then when you concluded that indeed, you haven’t spent much time with each other in a long time. His features seemed blurry in your memory, and you battled with the thought that it’s either you’ve been forgetting things a lot frequently those days, or both of you just hadn’t been around that close in a while.

It could have been either of the two, but Jimin left you no time to think as he pushed the empty glass next to you, leaning forward and pressing his wet lips onto yours.

Hands finding his chest, you remembered the four shots of soju Sooyoung offered you after work, when you were left in Namjoon’s office with them. You clearly tasted like soju and kimchi and everything else that you had that day.

Jimin didn’t care. His hands go around your neck, pulling you towards him and you begin to feel hyper-aware of how ridiculous you might have looked like. Still in your work clothes, you felt so grossed out by yourself, yet you couldn’t find it in you to object.

Kissing you fervently, Jimin’s hands traveled down on your sides, pausing at your hips before giving you a chance to breathe. You were already spent, disheveled when you caught the look on his face.

This was it.

Your eyes narrowed at the growing smirk he was purposely showing you, and you almost forgot how you were straddling him until he winced beneath you when you moved an inch to the side.

“Stop doing that,” he groaned. “What?” you asked innocently.

He stared directly in your eyes, into your soul. His hands reach back upwards again, to the side of your cheek as he narrowed the distance between you, as though they weren’t enough.

“Nothing, I… I just missed you… a lot,” his forehead touched yours. “Can’t we stay like this forever?” you sighed, threading your fingers into his hair while you whispered, “Something’s wrong, and we need to talk about it, yeah?”

Just a second ago, Jimin wanted another distraction. Something to keep him from thinking about what had been bothering him since his supposed proposal to you. He believed making love could ease the thunder roaring inside of him. The silent cries he wept, overthinking why you’d been distant.

You’re right. Something’s wrong and he needed to tell you all about it.

And you noticed his surrender, his shoulders slumping as he inhaled, fingers fixing loose strands of your hair. You reached for his hand, squeezed it gently, “When was the last time we held each other like this?” you asked.

He bit his bottom lip, “I can’t even remember…” he was being honest. He didn’t know how or why neither of you initiated a move, a sweet kiss before you’d leave for work, a hug after a long day.

Jimin was at a complete loss. All his overanalyzing led him astray, while all your overcompensating made you lose track of things – even the most important part of your life, you’ve unconsciously taken for granted.

Since your last argument with your father, you turned to isolation. You did it many times before, shutting down when issues come crashing on you.

Part of your coping caused a rift in your relationship with Jimin, and you had no idea until that moment he was looking at you like he didn’t know what to do anymore.

It’s your fault. It always was.

“It’s all my fault. I.. I did this, I should have been there for you. Have I been too… distant? That’s it, right? Since… since my father—”

“It’s okay. Nothing’s your fault, love. It’s not like I don’t miss you every day anyway, it’s just – work that’s been stressing me out.”

Lies. It was always easier to lie than having to face his fears. Jimin thought at the last second, that if he told you what was worrying him, or if he confessed to having planned on asking you to marry him, your answer would’ve been something he could never absorb.

If he asked you what made you uncertain of him, he was afraid to hear you disagree – and end up blaming yourself for feeling that way. It would hurt you, worse than how you seemed to be as you were going on and on about how guilty you were for avoiding him.

“It’s my problem. When it comes to him, I didn’t want anyone to feel the weight that I chose to carry myself long ago. Especially you, I can’t just add that to the burden you already have. With your parents, I mean. It’s not… fair.”

“Hey,” he called, following you when you stood and started pacing. “Your problem is my problem too. Didn’t we agree that we’re in this together? I told you, I want to be able to hold you when it gets too heavy, I want to be there for you. My parents, they don’t matter to me as much as yours do and I knew that since we met. It’s alright with me, I just need you to trust me… I’m here.”

That was another problem. You knew he was there. Always. But you tend to fight your battles on your own, not because you couldn’t trust him, but because you couldn’t trust yourself.

You couldn’t trust that you’re not going to ruin him because of how scared you’d been your whole life. Scared that if he held you and told you everything will be okay, you’d believe him… but something kept gnawing at you, telling you nothing will work out the way you wanted them.

Jimin’s a good man. He was so good to you that sometimes it felt too good to be true.

His presence in your life was permanent – and you figured that one out when a few months after that night, you saw him entering your floor at the office, looking dashing in his work suit.

Sooyoung was pushing your chair as she giggled, your hair was a mess, bags under your eyes.

“He looks so gorgeous, damn, the interns are asking for a beating from you..”

You shot her a glare and she laughed. “This is embarrassing, what the hell,” you muttered, standing up to meet him as Jimin walked over to your desk, nodding at Sooyoung before she dashed out to call Namjoon on his phone.

“What are you doing here? It’s 3PM???”

Jimin cracked a smile, boastful as he handed you a card. “We’re going to a party tonight. Just wanted to give this to you to rehearse.”

“Rehearse?”

He nodded, “Mm, your speech. I’ve been promoted as Broadcasting Head and… Hoseok wanted you to say a few words… for me.”

You glanced at the card, a paragraph in his handwriting. Scoffing, you read the words out loud.

“To my beloved–” he cut you off, awkwardly chuckling as he looked around, catching pairs of eyes ogling him and you. “Hey, you told me to rehearse!”

He grabbed your arms and walked off, and you screamed, “My beloved Park Jimin has been promoted! This is my proudest moment ever!!!”

Namjoon and Sooyoung halted in their steps, eyes wide open. Jimin’s face was beet red as people caught on to your screaming. He stopped when his friend appeared in his vision.

“You’ve been promoted?” Namjoon asked, and Jimin did his best to hide his blush. Sooyoung grinned beside you, “We should celebrate, right?”

You shook his hand that was still holding you, “Why don’t we go out tonight? For drinks?”

Jimin turned to you, “N-no, we can’t. The party! What about—” he side-eyed Namjoon, “Friday?”

Namjoon smiled, “Sounds great, Sooyoung?” and Sooyoung was halfway into the hall when she yelled, “Count me in!!!”

The speech Jimin prepared for you to memorize was full of passion. He sure knew how you admired him not only as your significant other, but him as a teacher as well. It was like you wrote everything yourself.

It was a beautiful Wednesday night and all eyes were on the two of you since you arrived at the venue. He picked out the dress you had on, and you thought it was pretty. You’ve exchanged greetings with his coworkers and a few student council members he was close with.

If not for the blinding lights and indistinct voices of people surrounding you, with the pounding in your chest as you walked on the podium to make the speech; you would have met Yoojin for the first time up close.

You didn’t even notice how close she was to Jimin, standing side by side with him while you stared at him when you began.

His smile was alluring, though it was scripted, Jimin was beyond ecstatic to see you up there talking about how proud you were of him. You got rid of the speech he wrote and instead improvised your own, surprising him yet all he could think about was how badly he wanted to run to you and propose right then and there – in front of everyone.

But a pull on his suit and a tap on a microphone swept him away, and you were beaming with joy, thanking everyone as you proceeded to walk off the stage while Jimin glanced to his right where Yoojin was waiting for him.

“Congratulations on becoming Broadcast Head. You’re going to kill it…” she grinned, long, soft curls cascaded her torso, she had the perfectly-fitted lace dress that hugged her figure gorgeously. If you didn’t call out his name, Jimin would have acknowledged how breathtaking Min Yoojin was that night.

“Was I alright up there?” you inquired, popping up behind him with a tug on his clothed arm. “Love?” he looked around immediately, nearly bumping into you. He breathes heavily, forcing out a chuckle that comes out rather tense. You didn’t see Yoojin walk away when you called him, but she saw you.

The entire night, Yoojin had her eyes on you and him. Like a hawk, she guarded herself in the shadows of the people, poised and proper as expected of the daughter of one of the biggest founders of Jung University. She was indeed breathtaking despite the sternness she showed, the undeniably forced smile - calculated and rehearsed.

To everyone, it was as though she was born for prominence, for immense success and pride. To Jimin, she’s beyond the name and reputation Yoojin was born with.

So, when he cheered and congratulated you for that amazing speech, expressing his own gratitude to you and your kind words; Jimin thought of excusing himself as he caught sight of his mentor, a then retired professor who’s friends with Yoojin’s parents.

Yoojin was exchanging pleasantries with the mentor, whilst side-glancing his way, as if calling him over. She knew how important Professor Kang was to Jimin. She’s a great influence to him as an educator himself, perhaps a figure he took inspiration from his lectures and practices.

He told you about Professor Kang, but to ask you to accompany him to where she was while Yoojin was there caused a strange feeling in his chest to surface.

Jimin would have to introduce you formally to Yoojin, his ex-girlfriend, and somehow that didn’t sit right with him. Which was why he diverted his attention elsewhere, to you, yet you’ve found an interest in one of his students.

In the end, he excused himself, and you nodded - too engrossed in a conversation with a couple of Communication majors on the relevance of print industry in the modern-day setting.

When he’s out of there, headed towards a corner table where Professor Kang, Yoojin, and two other board members sat down, a student of his asked you.

“Ms. L/N, how did you and Professor Park meet?”

Your eyes shimmered, “Oh, uhm, through a friend I work for. I mean.. I work with. They’re college friends and… you know..”

The student nodded, “I see. Would you mind if I ask how he is as a boyfriend? It’s okay if you don’t want to! I just want to know.”

You didn’t see any harm in that question, sure it was just out of pure curiosity amongst his students. Besides, you’ve been aware of his image around campus, added by Hoseok’s exaggerated stories on Jimin’s students forming a fanclub for him.

You answered, “Professor Park is a passionate man. He works hard, loves hard, I think in the classroom he’s the same? No? But he is thoughtful and loving. And, he talks a lot about his students like you with so much concern.”

The proud smile on your face was unwavering, and his student could only sigh in relief at how similar the professor is outside of the classroom. It made them think of him even higher than they ever had. It was the truth - he loved teaching as much as he loved you.

That’s what you had always felt about him.

“It’s saddening to hear you two did not work through your partnership. It would have been a huge deal to our community that both of you represent the institution together.”

Professor Kang had her arms crossed over her fuzzy scarf wrapped around her, and Yoojin’s face contorted into somewhat of a frown, but relieved as soon as Jimin looked at her with a smile that’s more of courtesy and respect.

If not for the thoughts of you lingering in Jimin’s mind throughout the conversation, he would’ve been bothered by the term the professor used.

She called his former relationship with Yoojin, a mere ‘partnership,’ as if the two of them were nothing but coworkers on a project together.

That’s one of the things that let Jimin down, the fact that he was casted more like a shadow of Min Yoojin - someone who supported the perfect daughter, held her hand through her endeavors while he had to silently battle his own.

He walked on eggshells around her and the teaching community, and the most upsetting was how it was worse around her family.

They created an alliance, sort of, with Jimin’s parents, yet it didn’t help him in any way in his career. All he achieved was the fruit of his hard work, maybe Yoojin did pull plenty of strings for him, but his skills were always considered second best to her and everyone in their league.

He was anticipating the similar response Yoojin had in such a statement, but that night was the first time in a long time she surprised him.

“Jimin and I may have chosen different paths but we’re both killing it in the game without a doubt. In fact, he’s been promoted as Broadcast Head. Haven’t you heard?”

“Oh, of course! Well, congratulations Jimin. I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up leading the rest in the future, perhaps alongside President Jung’s son?”

He swallowed, expecting another name to slip out as if he needed connection to survive, but Yoojin reached out for his elbow and put the professor in her place.

She didn’t know why the older woman would treat Jimin that way after everything he helped her with, and the fact that for years, she had been his influence and mentor.

A part of her once tolerated the harsh treatment everyone had for Jimin. She believed that love was enough to keep him from feeling isolated, however, that reason alone caused Yoojin to feel trapped - eventually leading into her decision to leave him altogether as she thought he wasn't going to strive for more. It was the most selfish thing she’d done, especially to him.

And she deeply regretted that over the years.

Seeing him again as someone beyond the man she had once imagined was rather fulfilling. She felt the power Jimin had all over him then, in her eyes, he became that perfect man she was obsessed with dreaming about.

She wanted him even more than she did before.

Even with your existence.

“He could be the next president without anyone’s help, Professor. I’m certain Professor Jung and his family would agree with me. He’s an important contributor in this university, and will continue to be one, regardless of what everyone says about him. So if you’ll excuse us, I just saw a few of our co-faculty members who have just arrived. It’s been so lovely to see you, Professor Kang. Enjoy the rest of the night!”

All Jimin could do was bow and let himself be dragged by her, who was beyond exhilarated. Professor Kang clenched her fists around her scarf and frustratedly downed a glass of champagne in defeat.

When the crowd settled and they were outside the suffocating ballroom, Yoojin let go of his wrist and fixed herself, standing meters away from him on one side of the large, empty hallway.

Jimin watched her adjust her dress, pushed her hair behind, and the moment reminded him of his university years, when he was still in the beginning of his relationship with her.

He couldn’t explain why, but there was a split second where he recalled the ring deep in his pocket, the ring he was going to propose to you with - and imagined Yoojin wearing it.

That thought would truly haunt him for decades to count, but the minute Yoojin finally gazed up at him with that familiar smile he was more used to than the practiced one; the world around him froze.

The doors swung open, voices echoed through the walls and the movement was quick to comprehend. Yoojin hurried and grabbed him yet again, pulling him towards the nearest hiding spot she could find.

A dark, waiting lounge filled with displays of Renaissance art and decoration. The only light source were a few electric candle lamps in each corner of the room.

Catching her breath as she cautiously peeked into the space in between the doors, Jimin choked on his words he was thinking of saying.

He wanted to thank her for what she did, and maybe apologize for how he treated her on that night she came into his office. No words dared to spill.

Jimin didn’t even realize their hands were still together and Yoojin seemed to not have any plan on letting go. She’s facing her, quietly breathing as her head’s lifted up at him. Not able to see her face clearly, he blinked repeatedly to adjust to the dark.

Yoojin wanted him - there were a million ways she could show him that, and she would, if given an ounce of opportunity to chase.

And there it was, that little chance. So little, none of them could barely feel it.

But then, a phone started ringing.

Jimin was the first to step back, whole body spinning around to run a hand through his hair. What just happened? What was wrong with him?

Yoojin’s chest ached when he pulled away, her reality hitting hard all at once. She felt hot tears above her cheek, and it didn’t take long for them to stream down when Jimin slipped his hand inside his pocket and took his phone, its ringing sounded like roaring thunder within her body.

His phone screen lit, showing you snuggled into the crook of Jimin’s neck.

For another second, he looked at her, as though asking permission - she hung her head low and stayed silent. He swiped his thumb and brought the device to his ear.

Your voice drowned out the sobs Yoojin let out, too loud and too distracting for Jimin to ignore. He was drawn back to you - as he should, and it hurt more than anything else.

That little hope disappeared into the night as Jimin apologetically bid his goodbye of a nod before exiting the room, choosing to forget about whatever he felt in that space with Yoojin;

Choosing to push it under the rug like he would always do from then forward.

If not for the news you told him when he returned to your table, you would have smelled the perfume - the unmistakable scent of a woman’s perfume that’s not hers, but you didn’t.

You informed him you two had to leave as your mother was sent to the emergency room for a stomach pain, and you were in tears as Jimin held you on your way to the car.

Watching you weep for your mother even with the good news that it was caused by a mild food poisoning and nothing more, Jimin felt the guilt washing over him.

He never spoke to anyone about Yoojin and that night - especially to you.

That was easier than the truth anyway.

Two years passed by in a whiff, and everything was smooth-sailing - you were happier, healthier. Your mother moved near your aunt’s place and started helping her out with her small business, and you’d been promoted once, while Jimin remained the head of his department.

You worked extremely hard to match up your work schedules with his, wanting to solely dedicate your weekends with him.

Short travels around the country and there were several round trips Jimin booked himself for you. He’d been encouraging you to go back to writing, since you’ve paused to focus on your job as Namjoon’s secretary and your weekly concept-building with your team.

You appreciated the effort he was pouring out of him just to make you write again, and you really did try - though you ended up on a journal instead, opting to document your daily life with him.

Everything was aligned - seamlessly almost, until the conversation of marriage was brought up during a family dinner with his parents.

The way your face morphed an indescribable expression which Jimin’s mother interpreted as utter refusal on your end, felt like a strike onto Jimin… harder than the first time you unconsciously rejected the idea of marrying him.

He still defended you though, making up an excuse that you’ve been talking about it with him but it may take a while for a decision to come because of work.

Jimin’s father spoke of his grandchildren he wanted enthusiastically, and your stomach twisted at that. He was looking directly into your eyes as he said it, how he wished he would still be alive by the time you gave birth to them.

He wanted two grandsons, if possible. You took note of that, seeing how Jimin seemed delighted as much as him. You’re not as hesitant with having children as you were with marriage, yet you haven’t honestly discussed it with Jimin.

You never opened the topic, nor did he, so you figured he wasn’t that interested then. You were wrong, but you never knew - not until it was too late.

He went home with you, depleted as ever, his limbs felt ripped inside and out. You didn’t look so concerned - conscious of his dilemma.

That night he was going to propose but failed resurfaced as he kissed you good night. He waited until you were far off to sleep, before he sneaked out and drove to the campus, hoping to find peace within the quiet halls of his department building.

Five years into his relationship with you - and he still didn’t feel enough. Not even deserving for you. He still loved you anyway. Even when he saw a lone figure standing by his office door, facing him, he thought of you all the time.

“Oh, I was just about to see if you’re… Wait, hey… Are you okay?”

He cried on his drive there, messed his hair and smacked his fists onto the wheel - and Yoojin could see the agony in him the second he was close to her.

She took his hands, they’re cold, shivering like the midnight. Without another word, she unlocked the office door for him, using his keys that he had in his other hand. She walked in, pulling him as she moved like she memorized the room.

Sitting him down on the small couch, Yoojin looked for a bottle of water. Jimin always had a few everywhere he went, and she was right. She found one in his bookshelf, and she rushed in twisting it open before handing it to him.

“Drink,” she mumbled, and he did so, eyes far away - out of her reach but she didn’t mind. “Did you forget something here? Were you… cramming the tests?”

He gulped down the rest of the water and crumpled the plastic bottle, tossing it into the trash can. Laying his back against the couch, Jimin brought his arm over his eyes and covered them.

“No. Why are you still here anyway?”

“Good question. I’m checking essays.. Hundreds of them. Wanna see?”

He scoffed, still with his eyes closed. “No thanks. Well, you should go back now. I need some time alone.” she raised her brows, “Why? I can stay here..”

Sitting up straight, Jimin pushed his arm out of his eyes and opened them, immediately catching her round eyes staring back at him. “I need to think…”

That’s the thing, it felt almost surreal - natural for Jimin to be honest with her. Whatever he was thinking at the moment, he would say it, no matter how harsh or real it may be. With Yoojin, his deepest, darkest secrets, the hidden corners of his mind were like an open book.

A part of him would dismiss it as something of a mistake. Yet there’s a bigger part that agreed. Yoojin saw the younger version of him - that little boy who dreamed big, so big he suffered reaching for it. She witnessed him grow, watched the world go smaller and smaller with him.

She may not have seen it then, since she left him to be with someone else, but Jimin held onto that for a long while. Perhaps, until that moment, he still remembered.

Outside the walls of the classrooms they’ve practically lived in since college, their perfect little world was not as pretty - but they made it as one somehow.

Maybe Yoojin forgot about that, he thought.

He felt for her nonetheless. Because he believed she saw him, the ugliest parts of him.

In the next four hours, you didn’t belong anywhere inside Jimin’s mind. You were tucked away in the crevices of his heart, asleep - lost in the daunting midnight.

The dawn was when Jimin came home. It happened once, then twice a week. And then you were assigned to lead a feature story on a recording artist and producer, you had to travel back and forth to two different locations every single day for two months.

It was easier to shove the dust underneath the rug, and Jimin would do just that each time he was faced with his troubles with you.

You never spoke about the dinner, or the talk of children that he knew you would prefer than a marriage that could end up in flames like your parents had.

He was disappointed, but it’s his fault too. He should have been the one to reach out and discuss it with you. Jimin knew that, yet he never had the guts to do it.

A coward and a cheat. He would hide in the safest possible space he could find, in Yoojin’s inviting presence that reminded him he mattered.

They would spend hours in either his office or hers, just sitting down and laughing over nonsense. Drinks were bought, food was made in advance - Yoojin did most of the work, like a guardian angel ready to save him from another despair.

It became a norm - a routine, a habit Jimin could never break. Not even when you finally came home after two months, excitedly jumping and telling him about getting promoted yet again.

You told him about the praises, the endless compliments you received - the potential deal off of an international publishing house happening because of you.

You never saw the indifference in him, or the scent of another woman’s perfume in his suit. If you did, he would have confessed - that it was Yoojin, but he would be honest.

Nothing more than a shared laughter and infinite conversation happened, at least not yet.

Jimin somehow wished you would figure it out, maybe that way he could find the strength to tell you everything. To admit how lost he’d been - how your crippling fear of a failed marriage consumed the life out of him.

What he didn’t know was that you never even knew that yourself. It might have slipped out that you’re not sure of him before - but it never meant that you didn’t consider settling down with him.

You just needed a push, a reminder, a tug on your sleeve - like the tug on his sleeve Yoojin kept giving him once he’s at the door, ready to come home to you.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this but, why are you still with her despite all this?”

Back then, Jimin had a definite answer. He loved you. But that felt more of a lie than ever.

He shrugged her off, ignoring the pain in the pit of his stomach. He’d still come home to you - until Yoojin took a bigger risk that Jimin was too weak of a person to ignore.

“I ran into her at a bookstore the other day.. I think she knows who I am,” she told him. It shifted the gears inside his head, putting on his best suit for impact. He needed another escape, another way for you not to catch him.

From running away to leave his problems for a fun, interesting night with his ex-lover, to running away from you. He knew you would hate him. You would laugh and tell him you were right.

That he was the image of your father.

He’s not - at least that’s what he wanted to believe in.

Yoojin convinced him to drive her home, made him think you probably had started to suspect, when all you did was work and try to write. You never had a clue.

What started out as a fun conversation filled with childhood banter and genuine laughter, turned into a reckless escapade of lies, deceit, betrayal.

The sleek movement, of stolen glances and playful stares - caught on by someone who always stood on the sidelines, admiring the likable professor, charismatic and effortlessly beautiful;

There watching the affair gets fueled by the risk of breaking rules and bending morals, was Hyejin. She liked her mentor - from the day he called her name in class, praising her paper.

She knew about the girlfriend for six years at that point, even greeted her at a function where the professor brought her with him.

Hyejin thought you were as strict and unnerving as Professor Min, but you were far from that. You were beyond what her mentor, the enigmatic department head Park Jimin deserved.

She couldn’t believe how you were able to put up with that man.

But that’s a poison Jimin began to carry around him since he began his illicit affair with Yoojin.

He learned how to deceive everyone around him, worse, including you.

Living a double life was easier than having to keep searching for reasons why you wouldn’t want to marry him, or have children with him.

If only Hyejin wasn’t the stubborn kind that she was, she would have told you everything. She would have shown you how evil that man had turned into.

Yet up until the seventh year of your relationship with Jimin, no one had come to share the truth with you - despite the signs being there all along.

You had to find out on your own, without anyone to hold onto - in the worst, possible way.

It was a countdown to the end - clock’s ticking, and it was loud inside your head. You walked up the stairs to his office, greeted by the warm smiles of students and fellow professors. It was a normal weekday, and you were surprising him with a gift.

You held your head high, but not enough for you to stand out - maybe because the majority of the people you came across thought your relationship with Jimin was over.

The last step before reaching his floor, you bumped into someone. Taller than you, pale-skinned, slightly muscular build, in formal, corporate suit. You apologized, and he did too, crouching down to your level as he took the bag from the ground with Jimin’s gift inside.

A silver necklace with a crescent moon pendant.

You looked up but the man was already staring at you.

“Oh.. I, I’m sorry again.. I didn’t see you…” you stammered, bowing your head at the stranger whose face changed into different expressions so fast in three seconds. “Y/N, right?”

“Yes, wait.. Do I know you? Sorry, I mean, I’m not really good at faces..”

“Min Yoongi,” he extended a handshake, you reluctantly accepted, confusion all over your face. He sighed, “You’re here for… Professor.. Park?”

You slowly nodded, “Oh, how did you–”

“I’m a psychiatrist, speaking of which, you should go home. It would be better for you…”

“Excuse me?”

“Believe me, in the end you’ll thank me for it. Giving my sister that satisfaction wouldn’t change anything. Go home and think about your life, yourself, your relationship. One day you will remember this moment and realize this isn’t for you.”

This was never for you. He was never for you. Because you were… you were always meant for you - and you only.

You listened and went home, watched as time turned and turned, reaching its breaking point.

A month later, you picked yourself up and let him go. Let yourself go despite knowing how difficult it would be to fall out of love with someone like Park Jimin.

You’ll have reasons to keep the love flowing out of you for him, a beautiful child who’s the image of you in every sense. But more so, you’ll have reasons to keep the love coming for you and the life you’ve chosen.

Something about time made Jimin feel frozen in place, while you were hours away, speeding like a bullet train ahead. You’re meant to learn things the hard way, but he was meant to learn much harder.

Something about time told you an hour in the future before you passed, that even then if you were given the chance to go back and experience a time in your life;

You wouldn’t have wanted to, at least not anymore - when the course of your life happened because you maneuvered it the best you could.

You lived through the fleeting, little moments of your existence, with the love not even time can measure. It’s endless, infinite - and only yours.

[previous] [next]

#bts fanfic #bts jimin #jimin x reader #park jimin #jimin smut #jimin angst #park jimin angst #park jimin smut #jimin fanfic #jimin imagine #cheating au #exes au #time loop #butterfly effect #park jimin fanfic

277 notes · View notes

vamossainz55 · 2 years

Text

Moonlight || Carlos Sainz x Reader || Ch. 1

Summary

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem! Reader

It’s been almost two years since your break up with Carlos but the memory of him is still fresh in your brain. It was hard for you to forget him when every single time you wanted to watch a race his name was plastered on the screen. A part of you is bitter really, knowing that you had helped him get there.

Instead, you were here, still finishing up your master’s degree in engineering and scrambling to find any internship possible. You had blindly applied to many- some even in the big league.

You didn’t really think much of it- sure Carlos would be around, but it’s not like you would get accepted anyways. And even if you did, you were definitely not giving up your dream in exchange for his, fuck that.

Fuck. That.

Fuck.

Link to all chapters (WIP).

Chapter 1 (3.1k words)

“A dónde vas?” You’re barely out of the bed when Carlos starts calling for you. You turn around and look at him, face softening at the sight of him fighting the sleep in his eyes. He reaches to grab your arm and before you know it you are being pulled back into the bed. The blankets are being pulled over you as Carlos only nuzzles closer, peppering kisses into your neck.

“Better,” you hear him mumble and you can’t help but relax a little, reveling into his touch.

“I need to go Carlos,” And this time you leave a gentle kiss on the top of his head before you slowly try to sit up again. It always broke your heart to leave bed first- especially when Carlos finally had a day or a week off from work. You kind of felt guilty too, knowing that he mainly just wanted to spend time with you in bed and relax.

“Mi amor. Stay a bit longer, porfa?” There is a small whine to his tone which makes you bite back a smile. You let out a soft sigh and lay down for a bit, thinking out your options. This is the perfect excuse for Carlos to wrap his arms around you again and pull you even closer than before. The sheets are warm, but Carlos is warmer, and it really is a hard thing for you to refuse.

“Vale, but only for five minutes,”

---------

Your alarm is blaring. Loud and clear and piercing through your dream. A groan escapes your lips, sitting up as you try your best to rub your eyes into reality. There is a cold layer of sweat clinging to your body, along with a sense of dread as you try to already forget your dream. Hazel eyes and tanned skin continue to chase you, and as many times as you try to rub your eyes, he seems to be sticking to the back of your lids, his image imprinted to its skin. You turn off your alarm but your thoughts only get louder.

The darkness in your room envelops you in a weird and hollow way. It’s cold, and you’re already missing the warmth in your dreams as you pull your sheets closer to yourself. “Fuck,” You mumble, already feeling the frustration bubble in your chest.

Fuck time, you thought. People always told you that time healed, but definitely not this wound. It had been almost two years since you and Carlos broke up. Your childhood friend, your best friend. Three years of dating and fourteen years of friendship thrown completely down the drain.

You try to convince yourself that it’s fine, it’s normal to dream about your ex sometimes. A part of you believes it right before you realise how many times sometimes is. You grit your teeth and let out another frustrated groan before you grab your phone, searching for any distraction to get your mind to leech to something else. It ends up being instagram. Five minutes wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself. You just need to brush your teeth a bit faster later.

Five minutes become ten and ten become thirty and before you realise you are barely brushing your hair and teeth as you jump into the first pair of pants you find, along with a random shirt. You don’t remember the last time you ran this fast, maybe in PE class which almost feels like ten years ago. All your effort seems wasteful when you enter the lecture hall though, panting and holding onto the door frame as you scan the room with your eyes. Your professor wasn’t even there yet.

“Sorry,” You mumble as soon as someone excuses themselves to go pass you to enter the hall. Soon you spot Laura waving her arm at you, gesturing you to head to her. You head to her, still breathing harshly. Your legs feel heavier than usual and you land on the seat next to her with a loud thump.

“Are you good? You almost didn’t make it,” Laura asks, shifting in her seat and moving her things to make a bit more space for you.

“Yeah Lau, I’m fine,” You say before cringing at the small edge that was lacing your voice. You shake your head. “Sorry, not in the best mood today. Feel like I ran a whole marathon,” The smile that lingers on your lips is an apologetic one, but your best friend is more than used to it, so she easily waves her hand to you as a sign to say that it’s fine, really.

“It’s too early to be having this stupid class anyways.” She says and you’re more than grateful at how understanding she always is. You slowly take your things out of your bag, soon looking around for your pen. You’re too tired to look for it properly, so you just shove your hand in your bag, fishing for your pen in hopes to feel it around somewhere. Before you even find it though you see a pen hovering in front of your face.

“Here,” Laura follows up and you can’t help but let out a tired but soft laugh.

“You’re the best really,” You thank her. Something catches both of your attentions though as you look forward, seeing the professor set his bag on the table as he silently begins to unpack his things. You both roll your eyes simultaneously- not even surprised that he hadn’t apologised for being almost ten minutes late.

The class passes by slowly, you and Laura as always sneak glances to each other and take turns in asking questions to one another when one of you didn’t understand something. You don’t really understand why you need to learn half of the things the professor is discussing anyways, but the class wasn’t that hard either. It would be nice to get an easy grade on something. Although the lecture is scheduled almost for three hours- you and the rest of the students are dismissed thirty minutes early on the ruse of extra study time (but you all know even the professor looked bored out of his mind).

You all begin to pack your things up and you’re thinking about what to do after the lecture when Laura nudges her hip against yours. Your eyes shift to her with a small pointed look. “You okay? You seem a bit out of it.” Laura says, you shrug before zipping up your bag and throwing a strap over your shoulder. The books from yesterday’s classes that you forgot to take out strain your shoulder a bit but there is nothing you can do about it.

“Mhm- fine. Just tired,” You say, every part of you wanting to brush off last night’s dream, but a glance towards Laura does the job and you are spilling, as always. “I had another dream, again.” You say. This time Laura is the one that groans.

“Really? Another one?” And you hate the amount of times you’ve discussed this with her. Over and over like a broken record.

“Thought I was done with them too,” You say, walking out the lecture hall together with her. You’re still a bit shaken up- the boring lecture hadn’t snapped you out of your dream at all, your mind had wandered back and forth to Carlos’ voice, his warmth, his smile.

“How many times am I going to tell you this?” Laura interrupts your train of thoughts. She turns to head outside to sit on the benches by the trees. You follow her, waiting for her to continue speaking. “You need to get out there, live a little. It’s been two years. How many dates have you been on since?”

You set your bag down on the bench before sitting down, eyes darting around the trees and the greenery as you try to think. You begin counting a few out loud. “The coffee shop guy, the blue-eyed guy, the one who cooked?” You question momentarily before continuing with your list. “The really nice guy that we met at Paula’s- he did turn out a bit obsessive though but he was really nice-”

“Mhm I know which one. Now, how many more?” Laura asks and you purse your lips together before letting out a breath. You try to think but even your mind is blank. Have you only been out with four people? You try to not make a face but you can’t help it, because God Laura was right.

“And how many dates have you been on with each one?” She continues asking, and a part of you wants to call her out for sounding so smug but you know she is just trying to help you out (although you wish it was less of a call out).

“You know this Lau,” You grumble, looking away. It was a joke at the end of the day between you both, you hadn’t been able to get past the first date. Ever. “Look- I know that I need to get out there more- I just get really discouraged. I have barely clicked with anybody. As soon as we get into the topic of exes they become obsessed and ask about Carlos all the time.” At some point you felt like they were trying to get on a date with him instead of you.

You let out a sigh as you watch one or two other people run around campus, clearly about to be late themselves. “Can’t believe I went to campus only for one stupid lecture.” you huff before pulling your legs to your chest.

“Yeah- I wouldn’t do that,” Laura shrugs before looking ahead of herself. The statue of the founder of the university stares at you both. “But seriously, how long are you going to be hung up on this guy?” She asks, and you can see the concern in her eyes which only makes you lean your head against her shoulder.

“I’m sick of this as much as you are. It’s hard when I see him practically everywhere. Why did I decide to choose someone who was going to be famous?” You murmur.

It’s not like you chose him because he was going to be famous- although you both knew it was going to happen. Being the son of one of (if not) the best rally drivers and kicking off your karting career from the youngest age possible was a perfect recipe for a Formula 1 driver. The backing, the genes, and the drive that Carlos had. From the first day you saw him karting you knew he was going to make it. But back then, you didn’t even think anything would come out between the two of you. He was just your best friend.

The thing now was that seeing him drive, and learning the mechanics of it, had created an obsession for you too. You stayed glued to his side whenever you could, glued to him and his racing. You spent many hours after school with him and his dad, learning the ins and outs of cars, learning how the karts were made, and soon learned the beauty of the engineering world . You were glued to the TV too whenever you could be.

Both of you were obsessed, watching races, from the F1 big screen to scrambling earlier to watch the smaller series that came up over time. He had helped you find your passion, and was the first person to find out you had gotten accepted to engineering. Not only that, but seeing him grow from karting and being behind the screen, to actually rising to the european f3 series and also the Renault series. But then it all ended when Toro Rosso picked him up and your studies started to take more time. The relationship broke from the inside out and before you both knew it it was over.

He was out there now living his dream, moving from Toro Rosso to Renault. He hadn’t had the best of seasons so far- but you could see he was edging closer, only improving every year.

On the other hand here you were, still finishing up your master’s and scrambling to find any internship possible. You had blindly applied to many different positions, although you knew deep down where you wanted to be. You didn’t really think much of it- sure Carlos would be around, but it’s not like you would get accepted anyways. And even if you did, you were definitely not giving up your dream in exchange for his. Fuck that.

“Well it doesn’t help that you still follow every single race so you hear about him or see him almost every other weekend. Maybe you should take a break from watching.” Laura says sympathetically which makes you just groan. “Anyways- I heard about a party tonight,” She offers.

--- --- ---

You don’t know how you ended up at the party but you are definitely not drunk enough for this. The music is bouncing off the walls and you swear you can feel the floor vibrate with how strong the bass is. Laura somehow disappeared within the first ten minutes of you guys arriving and you’ve been searching for her ever since.

After a grueling hour of search you see her wrapped around a very cute blonde. You think about going to give her an earful, especially since she had dragged you there with a promise of a fun girls’ night but you both cross eyes and you can see how invested she is. ‘Please,’ she mouths and you hesitate for a second before giving her a small nod which she grins to. You and her know she owes you big time. Instead of going to chase her you go and turn- thinking of lingering around a bit longer just to make sure she really is okay before leaving but you end up bumping into somebody, almost spilling your drink onto the both of you.

“You should be watching where you’re going,” The guy says, grabbing your elbow gently to stop the accident from happening. There is a playful tone to his voice and you can’t help but blush a little. You look up to be met with broad shoulders and shaggy brown hair. He was definitely easy on the eyes.

“Sorry, yeah. I should have been.” You say sheepishly before thanking him for saving your drink. It had been way too expensive for your liking, and it was definitely not going to fall on the floor and be stepped on.

“Would have gotten a new one anyways.” He says with a smile before giving you a wink. “Are you here by yourself?” You can feel his eyes trail over you not so discreetly and fuck it, maybe you should have a little bit of fun yourself too.

“Came with a friend but she’s quite busy right now, are you here by yourself?” You answer, this time it's your turn to eye him over as he nods and puts his finger to his chin.

“Seems like it. My friend ditched me too.” He says before nudging your elbow this time, quite hard. You don’t expect this and part of your drink spills and your eyes widen.

“Hey- what was that for?” You ask, looking over at him. You’re surprised to see him grinning from ear to ear.

“Guess I owe you a drink now?” He asks and you can’t help but roll your eyes and smile.

“That’s ridiculous,” you say before pointing at him. “you owe me two.”

The night picks up a bit from there. You both find a booth that is miraculously hidden on the side of the club and decide to settle there. Before you know it the two drinks become five and a gentle pink hue has settled on both your cheeks as both of you talk about the randomest things. You learn that his name is Bastien, he has one brother and two sisters, and he recently graduated with a Business degree (and he‘s french too, although his accent had given you an inkling of suspicion).

It’s when he’s talking about his trip so far that you realise how close you both had gotten. His knee is pressed against yours and you can suddenly feel his fingertips gently rubbing at your knee. You don’t even remember how you both had gotten so close throughout the night, but there is a light tension lingering in the air but you’re kind of enjoying it.

“So, why is a pretty girl like you single?” He asks, leaning even closer. Your smile twitches a little into a frown and you shift in your seat instinctively. You hadn’t thought about Carlos at all tonight. Bastien seems to notice and he moves back a bit this time and clears his throat. “Ah- sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up?” He says, sounding a little bit apologetic which makes you shake his head..

“No it’s fine. Just had a rough break up and it has been a while but I haven’t put myself out much.” You say with a small shrug. “Nobody’s caught my interest.” You say honestly and look over to him. You take the initiative this time, putting his hand on his knee. This seems to loosen him up as he shifts to sit close to you again.

“Maybe I can change that hm?” Your cheeks are burning now, eyes looking over his.

“Yeah, you can try.” You murmur as you notice his eyes drop to your lips. You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip this time and you can’t help but move closer before he takes your mouth with his.

It doesn’t go further than a kiss (or several kisses). You both go home together, but he drops you off at the entrance to your apartment building, even gets out of the car to help open the door for you. “So,” you say as you get out of the car, he shuts the door for you and you lean your back against his car, “do you wanna come up?” You ask him, biting your bottom lip. He looks over you and smiles, leaning close as he rests one of his hands on his car and next to your head. He leans slightly over you and you feel your stomach flutter.

“As much as I am probably going to regret this, no.” he says which almost sobers you up. Almost. Had you done something wrong in the car? You’re about to ask if something had happened when he leans over to give you another kiss, your mind spins a little as you move closer to hold his cheek.

It’s almost embarrassing how you try to lean closer when he pulls away. “I'd rather take you out for dinner tomorrow night,” He says with a smug smile before pecking your lips. “Does that sound good?”

“Oh,” You say, quite surprised this time.

“Unless you want me to come up now?” He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“No- no.” You say, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe what you were saying. “I mean- I’d love that but, maybe dinner tomorrow is better.” You say before giving him a smile. You’re burning red but you don’t care. It’s the first time you’ve felt excited for a date in ages.

“Sounds like a plan then.” he says leaning closer to brush your noses together. “Can I have one more kiss though?” he asks with the dimpled smile he had been giving you the whole night. You give him a small nod before connecting your lips once more.

The feeling lingers on your lips the entire night, tossing and turning in your bed with a feeling of excitement that you missed. You even try to distract yourself by going on your phone, biting your lips as you check the notifications you had been ignoring the whole day.

Your throat goes dry though when you open your email.

The words are bold and clear and you suddenly cannot think of anything else:

Congrats y/n, you have been accepted to our talent program in Engineering. For the upcoming season you have been assigned to: McLaren’s F1 Team.

Welcome to the team!

Link to chapter 2

Link to all the chapters: here

393 notes · View notes

wyomingparmesan · 2 months

Text

And I Lost You (The One I Was Dancin’ With in New York)

Chapter 1: Good Girl, Sad Boy

This is the first part of my submission for @theerasfestlovesquareversion! I was assigned the album Midnights and this fic is inspired by three songs from that album. Hope y’all enjoy!

Read on AO3

——————————————————————————-

Marinette straightened the hem on her pink miniskirt as she stood in front of the elevator. Her fingers trembled as she applied a fresh coat of lip gloss to her already stained lips. As the bell chimed and the door opened, she quickly stepped inside. Her hand quivered as she pressed the button for her designated floor.

She stood with her back straight against the wall, taking in deep breaths as to mentally prepare herself. Her eyes followed the numbers as they flashed on the screen. Finally, the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

As she stepped out into the narrow hallway, that was when the nerves really started to hit. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead and her stomach did a few somersaults. She stopped to lean against the wall for a moment as a feeling of uneasiness built up within her chest.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “I can do this, it’ll be okay,” she said to herself in a low voice. As the feeling began to pass, she continued walking towards her destination.

This was the first time she would be visiting Alya in her new apartment. Her older sister was away at university and her parents had taken the twins out for the weekend, which gave her the perfect opportunity to throw a small housewarming party.

It didn’t take long for Marinette to find the apartment as the sound of loud music seeped out through the walls. She reached a hand up to knock on the door, then retracted it. Alya had actually sent her a text message a few hours earlier saying to just come inside.

After taking just a few more calming breaths, Marinette turned the doorknob and let herself slip inside. She was greeted by a nicely lit room filled with the aroma of snacks and wine.

To her surprise, quite a few people had already arrived. Juleka, Rose, Mylène and Alix sat on the couch, glasses of red wine already filling the coffee table. Nathaniel and Marc had made a spot on the floor, where they sat with Kim and Max.

The aforementioned groups waved happily at her as she walked past. Her eyes landed on Alya, who stood near the snack table. Their eyes met and her best friend smiled widely as Marinette began walking towards her.

“There you are!” Alya said as she pulled her into a hug. “You haven’t answered my texts since this morning, I really thought something had happened to you.”

Marinette felt her face turn cold as a wave of guilt washed over her. “Oh, um, yeah…” she looked down at her feet. “Sorry about that.”

“Are you okay?” Alya asked, her voice filled with concern. Her eyes widened as it finally hit her. “Oh…right, yeah, I should’ve known.”

Marinette looked up at her. “No, no, it’s not your fault,” she shook her head, her loose bun flopping around. “I’m okay, I promise.”

Alya looked at her with a sad expression. “Okay, well, I’ll take your word for it,” then her smile returned. “After all, you are my honored guest tonight.”

Marinette chuckled. “I would be lying if I said that I’m not nervous, but I’m trying my best,” she admitted.

“That’s good enough for me,” Alya patted her on the shoulder. “I’m just happy that you decided to come anyway.”

“Hey, Babe,” Nino slipped in behind her and kissed her cheek. “This party is totally rockin’! You did such a wonderful job.” His eyes landed on Marinette and he smiled widely. “Oh, hey, Marinette! I’m so happy to see you!”

She smiled shyly. “I’m happy to see you, too,” her voice came out sounding so small. “Everything looks really nice, so far.”

“Glad to hear it, dude!” He grabbed a glass of wine and twirled it around. “Hey, I’ll be over at the DJ booth if there’s any song you’d like me to play.”

She nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then, she froze.

“Hey, Nino, you left these over there,” Adrien came up beside him, a pair of red headphones in his hands. “I think you’re going to need them.”

“Thanks, buddy!” Nino said, excitedly as he grabbed them from his hands. “I’ll be over there if y’all need me!” He then took off towards the DJ booth.

Adrien. Adrien Agreste. The same Adrien who broke up with her nearly a year ago. Her ex-boyfriend, Adrien, whom she had been avoiding for the past year.

Yet, somehow, she was unable to take her eyes off of him.

The urge to run away built up within her, but it was as if her feet had been glued to the floor. She stood there, her body cemented in its current position. No matter how hard she tried, she was forced to stand there and face the boy whom she once loved so much.

He immediately noticed her staring at him and looked away, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, hey, Marinette,” he said without even taking one single glance at her. “Glad to see you here.”

The awkward nervousness in his voice did little to soothe her aching nerves. Her heart pounded in her chest as his voice rang in her ears. “H-Hi, Adrien…” her muscles finally allowed her to move and she managed to look away from him. “Yeah, I, uh, wanted to be here to support my best friend.”

His eyes shifted towards her and he smiled a little. “Of course, I figured you would,” then he looked over at Alya, who was still awkwardly standing there. “Nice party, by the way, I’m having a lot of fun.”

Alya looked between her two friends and shook her head. “I’m glad to hear that, Adrien!” She said, smiling. “I should probably go get some of the games ready.”

As she turned to leave, Marinette reached out a hand to her. “Wait, no! Don’t leave me here…” she then noticed the sad expression on Adrien’s face and caught what she was saying. “You…you probably need some help with the games, right? I’d love to help!”

Alya cocked an eyebrow at her, then immediately realized. “Oh, yeah, sure, of course,” she grabbed her by the hand, but not before smiling widely at Adrien. “Maybe Nino would like some help at his booth, too?”

Adrien perked up and looked back towards where his best friend was. “Maybe so, I guess I can go check,” he began to turn around. “I’ll see you two around then.”

He then walked off and Marinette felt herself breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh my god! That was awful!” She exclaimed as Alya dragged her down the hall. “I-I was just frozen, Alya, that’s what he does to me! And I hate it!”

As Alya opened the door to a nearby closet, she asked, “Do you actually hate it, though?”

Marinette could feel herself becoming irritated, the anger bubbling up inside of her. “Of course I do and you know exactly why,” she said, accepting a box that Alya handed to her.

“Because he broke your heart, I know,” Alya turned around to face her as she closed the door with her foot. “But exactly how long did you think you’d be able to avoid him, Marinette? I mean, you already refuse to even look at him in school.”

“And I planned on keeping it that way,” her voice became soft, trailing off as she looked down at her feet. “But…”

“But?” Alya looked at her, her eyebrow raised.

“Recently, I’ve started realizing that I can’t keep avoiding him forever,” she admitted. “But it’s just…I dunno.”

“Well, so long as you two aren’t at each other’s throats,” Alya began as they started walking back towards the party. “Then I’ll take the awkward, minimalist conversations.”

Marinette sighed. “I don’t hate him, ya know,” she said. “Things are just…weird between us.”

“That thought never even crossed my mind,” Alya said, smiling. “Just give it some time and maybe things will be better between you two eventually.”

As they made it back into the living room, they sat their boxes down in the middle of the floor.

“Maybe, but I’m not holding my breath,” Marinette said, taking a glance at the boxes that they had been carrying. “What is this, by the way?”

Her best friend looked at her with a cheeky grin that made her entire stomach do a flip. “Just a little party game, that’s all,” she responded, leaning down to open the boxes. “Go on and talk to everybody, I can set it up.”

Marinette stuck her shaky hands into the pockets of her skirt and shifted on her feet. “Okay, I will,” she said, her eyes glancing around the room.

A few more of their friends had arrived while she was busy helping Alya. Zoé happily strolled in with her girlfriend and Luka and Kagami trailed behind her. Despite being in a room surrounded by some of her closest friends…

Her eyes still couldn’t stop landing on the blond boy in the corner. He stood up against the wall, a glass of wine in his hand as he laughed. His body shook as a wide grin spread across his lips. He always smiled so brightly whenever he laughed.

A sudden fluttering feeling made its way into her stomach. A hint of queasiness came along with it and her legs shook. She swallowed hard, grabbing a nearby glass of wine and taking a few sips. She forced her eyes to look away from Adrien before her entire body collapsed.

“Hey, Marinette, you okay?” A small voice came from behind her and she turned around to see Zoé standing there. “You look a little sick.”

“Zoé! Hey! O-Oh, yeah, I’m okay,” she took another sip before sharing a quick hug with her friend. “Just really anxious to be here, that’s all.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” she took a sip of her water. “It’s really nice to hang out with everyone again, but especially you!”

Zoé’s bright smile alleviated some of the pressure that had been building within her. “Same to you as well,” Marinette said. “It’s been long overdue.”

“You said it!” Zoé said, laughing a little. “And I know that things have been really awkward between you and a certain someone, but don’t let that stop you from enjoying this party, okay?”

Marinette sighed and slapped her free hand to her face. “Is it really that obvious?”

Zoé nodded as she flashed her a small smile. “You’re a bit of an open book, Marinette,” she said. “But it’s okay, you’ll get through it.”

Marinette let herself breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m trying, I promise,” she said. “Alya wanted me here and I knew he would be here because we literally share all of the same mutual friends so…yeah.”

“I know the feeling,” Zoé gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “You psych yourself up for something, but then when it comes time to do it, you just…” she took another swig of water. “You get it.”

“I sure do…” she let herself take another sip of wine as Alya’s voice piped up.

“Alright, everyone!” Alya began as she turned down the music enough for everyone to hear her. “I hope everyone is enjoying themselves so far!”

The entire room became filled with various responses of “yes”, “yeah” and “hell yeah.”

“Glad to hear it,” she clasped her hands in front of herself. “I hope y’all are ready because I’ve got a super fun, yet very classic party game for us to play.” She walked over to a small setup in the middle of the living room. A circle of pillows had been laid down and an empty bottle of wine lay right in the middle.

“Oh no…she didn’t…” Marinette whispered to herself, a shiver making its way down her spine.

“It’s a little game called…” Alya knelt down and spun the bottle, watching as it pointed towards one of the pillows on the floor. “Spin the Bottle!”

And just like that, Marinette had gained a new fear.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #taylor swift #songfic #midnights #question…?#lavender haze #maroon #exes au

6 notes · View notes

ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen.

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene.

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all.

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end.

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is.

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you.

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that.

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions.

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his.

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away.

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago.

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it.

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series.

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing.

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too.

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either.

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early.

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow.

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to.

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real.

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new.

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers.

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did.

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changes a lot. And it changes pretty quickly.

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away.

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights.

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance.

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for.

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here.

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours.

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does.

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career.

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly.

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home.

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved.

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them.

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection.

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return.

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it.

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled.

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds.

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up.

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician.

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer.

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs.

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them.

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about.

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about.

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court.

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating.

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much.

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore.

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along.

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look.

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are.

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person.

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went.

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer.

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance.

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away.

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to overestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim.

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself.

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk.

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that.

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise.

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes.

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again.

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent.

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says.

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse.

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends.

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again.

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place.

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot.

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside.

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away.

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life.

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all.

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown.

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them.

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down.

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear.

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it.

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well.

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink.

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families.

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying.

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were.

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy.

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead.

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again.

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile.

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums.

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting.

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence.

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him.

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that.

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.”

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you.

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay.

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for.

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long.

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both.

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly.

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out.

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are.

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget?

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now.

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier.

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in.

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit.

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him.

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display.

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs.

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head.

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out.

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly.

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know? That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away.

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you.

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well.

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this.

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads.

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened.

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?”

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement.

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you.

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision.

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it.

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same.

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop, a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from.

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence.

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through.

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether.

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone.

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little.

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is.

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier.

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway.

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence.

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now.

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…”

You.

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t.

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though.

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay.

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply.

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx @di0rgguk @thequeen-kat @fan-ati--c @cravingforhotchocolate @adoraminie @helenazbmrskai @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @preciouschimine @gukssunshine @nch327 @kookxin @petuliii @yoursthv @libra04 @fancycollectormoon @twixxxpie @ignoretheskies @ohmydarlin-g @bids97 @minyoongiboongi @main-bangtansmauyeondan @bora-bae7 @investedreader @petalsofink @jvngkooker

#yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #yoongi fanfiction #exes to lovers #exes au

691 notes · View notes