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jiminrings · 2 years

Text

four seven eight (3)

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: now that your month-long break’s over, you’re supposed to come home to jungkook at eight in the morning, right before he wakes up — it’s been two hours now, why are you still not home?

alternatively, jungkook will fight with you even if it’s the last thing he’ll do.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale ]

[ fluff, full-fledged redemption arc I Swear, some angst, jealous jk, so much longing, references to anxiety, suggestive themes n flirting, everything gets sorted out, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex ]

notes: it’s the finale now can u believe :O thank u for staying tuned for the past two weeks — i sincerely cherish each one of u who’s ever interacted with 478 and took the time to be with me throughout the whole thing!! i’ll be taking a lil break this summer btw see u on the next fic <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

The mornings are too long for Jungkook.

They’ve been too long since your break started, dragging out endlessly that he’s just started to close the curtains to not be reminded that the sunset’s still hours away before it fades into night. Mornings were too bright; too intimate to be spent by himself. When you leave for work, you already leave before sunrise, but that’s still morning in your husband’s head.

Jungkook misses his mornings with you.

He misses the mornings where it’s still dark out and he’s been asleep enough for long that he could make out your figure in the dark, either buried to his arm or to his pillow despite the huge expanse of your bed. Mornings nowadays were only reminders for him that he didn’t overthink nor cry himself to the point of passing out from the night before.

He longs for the mornings where his alarm rings before yours and he fumbles to get up immediately, actually excited to wake up for the day. The routine starts with him kissing you on the cheek as silently as he could before replacing himself with a pillow so you could still embrace something while you’re asleep, navigating the dark without turning the lights on so you wouldn’t wake up. The next thing he does is prepare you your breakfast, and if you want to savor in all your sleep and just squeeze in a quick shower, he’s just as ready to pack your meal for you to eat on the go.

The evenings are just as hard but they’re not as long as mornings. If Jungkook spends his nights regretting, then he spends his mornings longing. Reliving his guilt is just as draining the way Jungkook feels like his stomach’s sinking to the floor, but especially during evenings, the guilt is what reminds him that he’s learning.

Longing feels way worse.

Longing feels worse especially during mornings because unlike guilt, it’s formless. It’s fluid enough that it doesn’t make Jungkook cry point-blank nor feel the urge to smack himself in the head for being stupid. It’s listless and repetitive, sneaking into every thought he could form during sunlight. It’s worse than guilt because unlike the bile that rises to his throat, longing is the absence of it. His yearning is what reminds him of who he’s missing.

Even the cat knows who’s missing.

“Miso,” Jungkook hums to your pet that’s the only one who’s been keeping him company these days, the chunky mass of fur not exactly having a choice.

She’s gotten warmer to him when usually her kindness would only be reserved for you. The more bitchy, devious side of her rescinding from the amount of undivided attention Jungkook gives her now. He’s been teaching her tricks — practical, useful tricks.

“If you ever see this man with mommy,” Jungkook hums, showing Miso a picture of Yoongi on his phone. He interrupts himself with a thought, smiling to why he didn’t think of the correction earlier. “Or y’know what? Even if you just see this man, I need you to scratch him, okay?”

Jungkook scratches her chin to get her to look at him, repeating his words again while humming to retain the information on her tiny brain. Mornings are more survivable this way, even if he’s spent the entirety of the past week’s mornings teaching Miso tricks. So far, she knows how to sit, roll around, and jump kick the door to close it.

Hopefully, she also learns the petty trick of hunting Yoongi in the event that she sees him.

Jungkook hums in satisfaction while he gets Miso’s toy, seeing her ears twitch in anticipation. He establishes your co-star’s name (he’s too caught up to even acknowledge him as your friend) to her so not only would she know what he looks like, but also know who is he. “Here, Miso. Practice on this. Pretend that this rat is Yoongi.”

The thought that crosses Jungkook’s mind recently these days is that he doesn’t even know what exactly to feel about Yoongi. He knows him, sure, but only in the same degree that he vaguely knows everyone his wife’s associated to somehow. He knew of him both as an actor and as your acquaintance back then, but just like with everyone else, Jungkook didn’t ask about him. He didn’t ask you all that much about him because there’s no reason to, his trust paramount enough that he didn’t even consider the possibility that Yoongi had a thing for you.

Maybe it’s his fault, Jungkook thinks. Maybe it’s no one’s fault at all because to think of it, he can’t blame Yoongi either.

You’re lovable. Extremely and undoubtedly lovable wherever you go, but the thing is, it isn’t your fault either. Jungkook thinks that perhaps you don’t even know just how admirable you are, the realization sinking into him sometimes that out of all people, it’s him whom you love.

Yoongi’s undeserving of his anger but Jungkook doesn’t know where else to put it, the abundance of it overflowing on himself that even if he knows how wrong it is, he pins it to your friend for the meantime.

In the same vein, Sora’s undeserving of your anger too. She isn’t responsible for any of your insecurities because in the first place, she didn’t even know about the concept of you initially.

Even though both Sora and Yoongi are pillars of your past, the latter continues to be in your present and it’s something Jungkook has to learn to grow accustomed to. Sora’s an ex, Yoongi isn’t. He’s harmless as an almost-your-lover could come, being your best friend at the most with no malice behind his warmth. He’s not responsible either for Jungkook’s insecurities — at the end of the day, it boils down between you and your husband.

You quickly realize that your month apart with Jungkook shouldn’t only remain stagnant. He’s trying and so should you, his pride nowhere to be found nowadays that it’s slightly painful to watch. You’re not devoid of faults entirely, the need to make things right with him from your side of the plate becoming more and more apparent each day.

You’re not even one full ring in until Jungkook immediately answers, his habit of keeping his phone with him at all times paying off now that you called him first.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you hum, trying to swallow down your nervousness. You’re stalling with conversation but he doesn’t need to know that. “Are you free this weekend? It’s the last day of renovation at the shop and my parents want us there.”

“Of course I’m free,” Jungkook answers instantly, furrowing his brows in confusion. He doesn’t even know why you’re asking at this point, the both of you knowing he hasn’t denied the offer once. “I’m a househusband, y’know? Your husband. Why wouldn’t I be there?”

He’s not hurt at your doubt for him but what he feels is close enough, akin to the confusion of why you’re silent.

“Dunno,” you clear your throat, playing with the fraying ends of your throw blanket that you’ve been anxiously taking apart since you started staying in your house. “Thought you were busy.”

“I’m busy missing you if that wasn’t established enough.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you there,” your throat clears at your husband’s deadpanning, sensing that he’s not playing around at the moment with his moment.

Jungkook sighs, letting go of the hurt that comes with your unsureness of his presence just seconds ago. He speaks more lightly this time, a chuckle leaving him. “Should I tell them you slept in? Or do I think of another excuse why we aren’t coming together in one car?”

“Just surprise me, I’ll act along with it,” you sigh in relief at the absence of hostility, rubbing your eyes in thought.

You think of how it would go — if Jungkook’s eyes would light up again once you enter the shop, or if he would kiss your cheek again to greet you in front of your parents. You wonder if he’ll hold you again this time, slinging a warm hand on your waist that’ll make you instinctively lean into him.

Jungkook wonders how he’ll approach you this time — if your eyes would widen when he kisses your cheek tenderly, or if you would notice how he breathes in your perfume that lingers in your hair. He wonders if you’ll reciprocate his affection and put a hand on his waist, enough to make a man like him soften in your hold.

Suddenly, Jungkook doesn’t mind that much anymore that the two of you would come to the shop separately, all if it would mean that he’d get to hold you again just like last time.

There’s a silence that lingers, one that’s peaceful for Jungkook yet loaded for you. You’re deflecting without even trying to, clearing your throat to get rid of the lump that comes with the urge to say what you really needed to. “Also, my parents want Miso to be there too. Do you think you can take her with you? What’s she up to?”

Your parents do miss Miso but not to the point that they’ve outright asked if you could take her with you, hoping that your impromptu plan of dragging their name along for the sake of making conversation with Jungkook doesn’t bite you in the ass later on.

“I can take her, no problem. She’s gotten close to me,” Jungkook hums, getting a loud meow right on time when she returns the toy rat to his palm and you pick up on it.

“Is that her? What’s she doing now?”

“Nothing much, I’m just teaching her how to hunt.”

“But cats already are hunters.”

“Yeah, but I’m teaching her how to hunt a specific person,” Jungkook mumbles in the same time your courage finally gets filled to the brim in your head, the go signal loudly beeping to make you cut to the chase.

“Jungkook, I need to tell you-” your focus is momentarily interrupted, his words belatedly sinking into your head. “Did you just say person?”

“Nothing. I said nothing. What were you going to say?”

Jungkook dismisses your worries even if what he said only slightly bothered you, eagerly waiting for your words. You wait for yourself even with bated breath, wanting to get this over with.

You count to three in your head, screwing your eyes shut. Now wasn’t the time to deflect; not the time for your roles with Jungkook to switch because you could feel that you were being passive while he was being proactive. If Jungkook’s trying, then you need to try too.

“I just wanted to tell you about the episode that’s dropping tomorrow,” you finally say, tugging harshly at a particular thread that it digs into your fingers. “Yoongi and I kiss.”

It’s normal. You’re no stranger to kissing scenes considering that it’s a part of your job. You’ve done it as a minor character already, even when you and Jungkook were still dating and not yet married. You tell him about your acting scenes in passing, especially some that required you to be affectionate and intimate to a certain degree.

Jungkook understands, he should understand. Acting’s your passion and your actual job, one that kept you going. He’s merely a husband at home who’s unconnected to your job and therefore should understand that sometimes, his wife needs to kiss someone else who isn’t him.

He knows he needs to understand that this time, you needed to kiss Yoongi, someone who was almost your lover; yet you don’t know of at the moment. He should grasp that his wife has a drama episode where she kisses Yoongi, one whom she’s linked to in a dating scandal.

Jungkook tries his best to understand but his comprehension doesn’t equate to ease, feeling the burn in his throat when he asks you.

“How many times?” he asks meekly, gnawing on his bottom lip and ignoring Miso for the meantime, the cat concerned because her owner simply just froze into the couch. “How many times do you need to kiss in the episode? In the whole series?”

“We haven’t wrapped up filming for the drama,” you admit, looking down on your lap in unease even if you can’t feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. “But this episode? I have uhm — Yoongi and I have four scenes.”

“And how many takes did it need?” Jungkook asks next, distancing the phone from him a little so you wouldn’t hear his heavy exhales. “It’s a drama, right? Surely there’s a hundred angles and rewinds on one kiss alone.”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking. He doesn’t know if he’s committing penance from wanting to know how many times his wife had to kiss her onscreen partner. He still asks even if he knows that whatever answer you’d give him, it would still sting. “Ten? More than ten?”

“I didn’t count, Jungkook,” you answer truthfully, rubbing your temple.

“Was it too many to count then?”

His retort comes out a little piqued, a little too sharp that it makes you sigh. Jungkook reminds himself to calm down and not think about you kissing Yoongi at all. To not think about you kissing and least of all, loving someone who isn’t him.

“Sorry. Thanks for giving me a heads-up,” he apologizes, the discomfort in his stomach slowly rising that he can’t stay seated. “Miso’s... Miso needs food now. She won’t stop meowing.”

There’s no meows at all. No urgent pawing from her that signified she wanted her food bowl to be filled.

The two of you both know that he just needs a little time; a little time to try and breathe. Jungkook urgently needs to get his mind off that he rushingly ends the call, not even waiting for a reply. “Thank you. Bye. I love you.”

Four seconds. Breathe in through your nose.

Seven seconds. Hold it.

Eight seconds. Exhale through your mouth.

He doesn’t know what to do, seeing you and Yoongi be intimate. He’s watched every episode of the drama so far and he could still swallow your dialogue with his character. He chuckles at the banter when you cuss him out. He smiles when the cinematography captures you the way his eyes do, through the lens of someone who loves you deeply.

He doesn’t know what he’d feel seeing you, along with a lot more people at this case, kiss Yoongi. He doesn’t know what to feel knowing that just like the vast majority of people and fans outside of your closest and most trusted family and friends, nobody knows that he’s your husband.

It’s hurtful but it’s needed, a reminder he engraves in his brain because this is what he initially thought he wanted for himself. Nowadays, he wants nothing more than everyone to know that he’s yours.

Jungkook reminds himself to breathe.

( ♡ )

All the lights are turned on.

All the lights are turned on along with every other single discomfort Jungkook could think of that would take away the intimacy when tonight’s episode drops.

He gave Miso the loudest and most annoying toy she could ever play with, the tinkling of the bell inside the bouncy ball ringing almost every minute. He took a shower and barely dried off his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet to the cushions of the couch. Jungkook orchestrates everything to be at unease so he’d be distracted when the real unease comes, the tiny little inconveniences hopefully enough to cancel out what he’ll be seeing later.

“Can you stay on the call with me? I need you to tell me when it starts and when it ends,” Jungkook mumbles to his phone, the volume on loudspeaker so it would disrupt him too.

“You could just not watch the episode,” you sigh, offering the simplest and most effective solution to his current problem. You don’t even know why he’d willingly put himself through this, aware that the kissing scenes would do nothing to alleviate the matters of his heart and mind.

Jungkook snickers under his breath, dragging out his exhale when he explains his dilemma. He didn’t want to be selfish, unable to forego watching the episode just because he’s throwing a hissy fit over his wife’s job.

“I watch every episode to support you, though. Not everyone could say their wife’s on TV.”

Somehow, you get it. You could grasp Jungkook’s eagerness to support you by watching you do what you love most, and in the same time comprehend his aversion that doing what you love most somehow entails landing your commitment to kiss Yoongi.

You get it, you try your best to understand where Jungkook’s coming from but at this point, you’re merely a bystander to his worries. Neither are you there nor capable enough to do something about it.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. But I can’t — I can’t do anything about it, y’know? This is work,” you emphasize, hoping that the reminder of your job atleast helps the webbing that’s in his mind. “I can’t think of any romantic drama that doesn’t have a kissing scene in it.”

There’s the sinking feeling again in Jungkook’s stomach, one that tells him he’s asking too much from you despite barely verbalizing it at all. He feels selfish to the point that he’s even called you tonight even if he didn’t ask beforehand if it was okay, the reminder present that the two of you are on a break for a reason.

You don’t see him now but you could only imagine the conflict that manifests in his downturned lips, eyes beady and remaining shut while he tries to regain his bearings.

“Do you want me to turn on my video? So you could see me, if it helps,” you offer gently, not wanting to get ahead of yourself in the event that Jungkook can’t even stomach looking at you.

“It’ll help,” Jungkook instantly answers, shoulders slacking in relief when he sees you on his phone. He lets himself smily briefly, turning on his own video once he sees you settled in. He sets his phone (or rather you) on the coffee table, the angle turned upwards so you could see him resting into the couch.

If you notice the way that overhead lighting’s used instead of ambient lighting, despite the disuse of the latter gives him a headache, you don’t comment on it.

You don’t ask why Jungkook’s hair is sopping wet and why he’s wearing a hoodie that he hates because it made him itch and sweat. There’s no acknowledgement to why he’s wearing his old glasses instead of his new ones, because the ones he’s wearing at the moment are clunky and has an outdated prescription.

In some odd reversal, you’ve become Jungkook during your break with him. You’re observant but you don’t act on it. You listen but you’re silent. You continue to notice everything and process it by yourself instead of doing the easier way of addressing him.

Jungkook’s become more like you — a little more talkative. He’s more obvious and readable nowadays, not one thought going unspoken. He comments continuously, babbling while the episode starts.

He giggles through the funny scenes and comments how you’d say something exactly like your character would in real life, absorbed into the show that he doesn’t even know you’re only looking at him.

You see every smile that forms in his face whenever you come into the frame, eyes twinkling when he sees that smile mirrored on the screen as if you could see him while you were filming the episode and knew he’d be watching.

The video’s clear and although not comparable to what you’d see if you were face to face, you could see every detail and every thought that passes through your husband’s visage. You see the way his lips would purse whenever Yoongi’s character pursues you, mind going a little blank when he sees him reaching out for either your hand or your waist.

You see Jungkook through the first of it, when you hear the familiar score leading up to the first kissing scene of the episode and the entire series for that matter. He was on alert the whole time, but nothing could ever prepare him into seeing you look so deeply into Yoongi as if you’ve known him your whole life.

Nothing could prepare Jungkook into seeing Yoongi smile gently, securing his hand on your cheek when you giggle upon looking at him.

The musical score doesn’t help in the background because it’s of bells and a gentle uprising of the piano, the peak of it powerful enough that it convinces everyone watching that oh — this is probably what love looks like. You and Yoongi on the screen must be perfect enough to convince everyone who’s watching, and even Jungkook for a split second, that your love is what love should look like.

Jungkook’s unprepared when he sees you close your eyes the moment Yoongi leans into you gently, no resistance at all to the love that he gives. Yoongi’s portraying love, he must be, Jungkook thinks. Yoongi’s doing it so well that even he, your husband, is momentarily convinced that Yoongi knows how to love you the most from a kiss alone.

You see everything. You see Jungkook squirm when you press your lips harder to Yoongi’s to reciprocate his kiss, tilting your head to complement his movements so he could kiss you deeper. You see him anxiously play with his wedding band when the camera pans to your ring-less hand gently stroking Yoongi’s nape, your on-screen partner’s hand straying to the small of your back warmly.

There’s no prepared unease that could ever orient Jungkook because seeing you with Yoongi, someone who isn’t him, brings him the greatest discomfort of all. It’s heavy on his body, the trepidation crawling from the base of his skull all the way to the tips of his toes.

It eventually ends, yet it was only the first of four in the episode. The first of the many indefinite kisses he’s yet to see in the entirety of the series.

“Jungkook.”

Your voice is what snaps him out of his reverie, rapidly blinking and genuinely confused when he feels that his cheeks are warm from all the tears he’s been unconsciously shedding throughout the scene.

“Yeah?” his voice croaks, reflecting the sinking feeling that ponders on his ribs.

“I love you.”

You say it gently, the first you’ve ever uttered for almost a whole month of not doing so. You didn’t plan on it and yet it’s already escaped you, unwilling to take it back either because it’s the truth.

“I love you more,” Jungkook smiles, genuine despite being tight-lipped because if he were to smile bigger, the tears would just pour.

“Please don’t cry,” you request, albeit weakly because you can’t find the fight in your voice. It’s unavoidable for him.

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook truthfully says, playing with his wedding band before the thought crosses his mind of what he’s been meaning to say. “I need to tell you something this weekend, by the way.”

“Can’t you say it now?” you hum, growing curious.

“Not really, it’d be better if I say it to you in person.”

Jungkook rewinds his memory of learning from Jimin that Yoongi was so close to being the love of your life, narrowly being beaten by a day. It still hasn’t sunk in completely that it makes Jungkook snicker at thought, having to shake his head to try and get rid of it. “Just thinking about it makes me want to run into oncoming traffic.”

“Is it that bad?” you chuckle, figuring the extent of it now that Jungkook’s joking about it but simultaneously looks devastated.

“For me, yeah,” he answers without a doubt, trailing when he tries to consider your side. He’s not sure, the uncertainty of your reaction almost winding him breathless. “For you… I don’t know.”

Jungkook’s trying to tell you everything and so would you, attempting to bare it all no matter the initial unease it brings.

“I wanted to say something to you too,” you clear your throat, rethinking the night at the club that Yoongi admitted he has a crush on you.

“Is it worse than what I have to say?” Jungkook chuckles, looking at the screen with a hope you can’t distinguish.

“I can’t tell either.”

Jungkook nods but it’s apparent that neither of you could leave the conversation at that, a little antsy to know something yet not everything at this time of night.

“How about we say a keyword each?” he pipes in, the suggestion being more than welcome. “That way, we’re not entirely clueless before we see each other this weekend.”

“That could work,” you try to say nonchalantly, attempting to disguise your curiosity into relaxation yet you can’t do it anyway. “One, two, three.”

“Yoongi.”

“That fucking guy,” Jungkook humorlessly chuckles, shaking his head once it sinks into him that Yoongi happens to be the common denominator of the things you wanted to admit to each other. It’s not lost on him that Yoongi just happens to be a variable, but the more irrational part of his brain is what makes him angry at the guy.

“We have different things to say that somehow involves Yoongi too, hm?” you ask despite knowing the answer, seeing your husband suck in a harsh inhale.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” he breathes out, rolling his eyes when his face appears in his sight for a second. “Yoongi that fucking rat.”

Jungkook utters your friend’s name with such venom that it wakes Miso up, the ball of fluff previously asleep in the corner of the living room yet came to life as soon as she heard rat and Yoongi in the same sentence.

Miso suddenly speeds into the couch on high alert, tail puffed up as she runs and sits next to Jungkook, obviously in a panic and on the lookout. It happens so fast that your husband barely even registers it until you ask in a hurry.

“Why’s Miso angry?”

The realization clicks in Jungkook’s head soon enough, the moment becoming the peak of the lessons he’s taught the cat every morning for the past week. “I taught her. Watch.”

“Miso,” Jungkook drawls, scratching her chin before pointing to the screen. “Who’s that? Isn’t that Yoongi?”

Like clockwork, Miso leaps to the TV from a sprint and bounces off of it, the force enough to rock it backwards but not enough to take it out of its mount, thankfully not shattering the screen. Jungkook’s caught it in video, the back camera capturing his proud moment as a (cat)dad.

“Jungkook!” you yelp when you look at the TV, the video once again returning to his face because he realizes now that you don’t need to look at the exact aftermath of Miso’s party trick. “What did you teach our cat?”

“I taught her how to hunt,” he huffs as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Don’t look at me like that. I have to cope somehow,” he adds, “plus you know Miso. She doesn’t really engage with things she isn’t passionate about.”

It’s true; just like the twenty toys you buy but two of them only stick. When you bought her a cat tower, the box that it came with is what she became fixated on. Even getting used to the baby blue floor couch was a struggle because at the first month of the furniture inhabiting your living room, Miso used to hiss at it simply because she hated it. She became passionate about it soon enough when she figured that the stream of sunlight is perfect for her midday naps.

“What’s that, Miso?” Jungkook gasps now that Miso’s back to him, sat on his lap as she tilts her head on you curiously at the screen. He lends her his ear and just in time does she peer at Jungkook, making it seem like they were gossiping; the sight’s too warm you can’t help but to screenshot. “You don’t like mommy kissing other guys?”

The sudden skit that unfolds catches you off-guard, warranting a surprised cackle from your lips that makes Jungkook crack up.

“That kissing scene alone can buy you five years’ worth of cat food, Miso.”

“What was that, baby?” Jungkook gasps once again, brows furrowed as he stares down Miso who’s definitely not talking. “You’d rather starve than see mommy kissing that guy again?!”

“Miso’s new trick is to talk?” you pipe in when Jungkook doesn’t let the act go, tilting your head. You playfully chuckle, raising your eyebrows at him. “Are you jealous? Is that it?”

“Amongst other deprecating things, believe me,” he mumbles, resorting to cradling Miso in his arms like a baby. “I just admitted to teaching our cat to attack Yoongi on command. I’m not exactly hiding that I’m jealous.”

“Jungkook,” you hum with the intention of reminding him something, the switch of tone evident that it makes him alert.

“Yeah, baby?” he sighs, running his hand through his hair while he looks at you.

It’s not lost on you that Jungkook called you an endearment other than your name, and yet you try to swallow down your reaction, a tight-lipped smile replacing your previous laugh.

“You just sat through all four kissing scenes. That was the last of the episode.”

His eyes widen because he forgot that the episode was ongoing in the first place, gaze flitting to the screen as he realizes that true enough, the credits are even bound to roll soon. “Oh.”

The silence comes back and as much as you want to linger, you will yourself not to. “I’ll end the call here, alright?”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says, a grateful smile on his lips that you stayed throughout. “I love you,” he reminds. “I mean it.”

All you could give is a timid smile before you drop the call, sighing when you bury your face to the couch; your massive gray couch that is not the baby blue floor couch you have at home.

Jungkook doesn’t need to say the words but he does anyway, reminding you just how sincere he is when he says that he love you. He means it; you’ve always known. “I know you do.”

( ♡ )

The days leading to the end of the break are easier.

They’re easier in the sense that Jungkook can sleep for minutes at a time at night, granted if he had any sort of interaction with you that day. The days are easier as they pass but Jungkook doesn’t grow complacent, putting in the work whenever he could.

You’re positively confused (and a little worried) when you receive an email from Jungkook, a meeting link attached that starts at the exact moment he’s sent you it. You think for a second that he’s hacked because he barely even opens his email, but the signature of <3 jungkook at the bottom tells you that funnily enough, it is your husband.

You indulge him, even if you’re five minutes late from the time it took to fetch your laptop from your bedroom. Jungkook was starting to think you weren’t even gonna show but by the time you enter the meeting room, he’s the one who’s surprised by your sudden barrage of questions.

“You emailed me a link,” your brows furrow. “Is your phone not working? Should I buy you a new one?” you think out-loud but reel yourself in once you see Jungkook patiently waiting for his chance to speak. “I’m not opposed to talking to you virtually, Jungkook. Just… why a Zoom link?”

Jungkook never thought you’d ask, shrugging when you lead him right where he needs you to be. He says it like it’s obvious, as if you’ve been doing this everyday since you got married.

“Because we’re in a meeting,” he trails, retaining his gaze on the screen while he tries to discreetly prepare his slides in the background. “I’m presenting.”

You can’t be any more confused than you are now, having just gotten home from work at ten in the evening. You haven’t even showered yet, too puzzled with Jungkook emailing you that you couldn’t pas it up. “What? Presenting what?”

Once again, you give Jungkook the perfect opening because as soon as the last word leaves your mouth, the screen changes.

It’s a presentation with a very familiar color scheme, big bold letters right at the middle entitled “Why You Should Let Mr. Jeon Win This Time” — the same animation for the text beyond recognizable. The subtext reads as “I’m still very sorry” — the background of the presentation being the very two things you’ve used this presentation for; the baby blue floor couch, and the third-biggest variation of a king-sized bed.

A laugh leaves you even before you could conceal it, the surprise in your face evident with the way you’re covering your face. Jungkook himself laughs at your reaction, a welcome feeling now that he gets to try giving you a presentation of his own.

“Stealing from my book now, hm?” you hum, wiping the stray tears out of your eyes. “Be honest, you love the couch. You love the bed too!”

It’s a welcome moment; a needed moment between the two of you. Not everything’s fixed but you’re getting there with small baby steps, each one clearing out the miscommunication and lapses of judgement that landed the two of you here in the first place; even if it’s one presentation at a time.

“With you in it, duh. The couch is a nightmare to clean,” Jungkook groans, resting his face on his hand as he could see you happy by your tiny icon, the presentation he’s spent the entirety of last night over taking up his whole screen. “I need you in my bed to enjoy it.”

It’s perhaps a welcome moment too; perhaps not extremely vital to the situation, but still welcome nonetheless.

“I didn’t mean-“ Jungkook’s cheeks flush, pursing his lips to think of what excuse he could say for himself. He racks his brain for a second now that the two of you are just staring at each other from his accidental innuendo, ultimately concluding that there’s nothing. “Okay, fuck it. I do mean it in that way too.”

The unabashed admission is what gets you, an easy chuckle being squeezed out of you as you try to retain your eye contact with Jungkook who’s apparently very passionate in explaining.

“Once you come home, I’m gonna,” Jungkook grunts, his two hands up as he grasps the air and squeezes. “I’m really just gonna-…”

Your laugh is what reminds him that you’re still there, looking at him directly while he makes a fool out of himself by vaguely detailing just about what he means when you come home.

“You’re gonna what, babe?” you hum playfully, the endearment slipping right out of you. You realize belatedly but neither of you comment on it, letting the term linger in the air.

Jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard now, at a loss for words while he resorts to rolling his eyes playfully.

“You’ll see.”

Your husband jumps from one slide to another, taking his sweet time in explaining and expounding each one. There’s no script at all, obvious from the way he stutters and laughs between words.

The moment doesn’t last forever but it’s welcome, all the while worth it because by the time Jungkook reaches the last slide, the two of you feel considerably lighter than before.

“Our break ends one week from now,” Jungkook reminds you when your laughs die down, cheeks still a little pink from catching his breath from all the talking that he had to do.

You look a little more somber now, still admirable despite the exhaustion (and relief) you’ve went through today.

“Come home to me, okay? Come home to me before I wake up.”

“You don’t sleep, though.” It’s your turn to remind him, voice more gentle than before.

“Yes I do,” he weakly argues, but there’s no point in telling the white lie.

“Okay no, not really. But since you’ve been calling me, I could doze for thirty minutes at a time.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard of Jungkook’s improvement in sleeping without you, unsurprised that the genuine happiness in your features already translates to your husband who preens at your reaction.

“You’ve been gone for so long, do you even remember what time I wake up?” he asks harmlessly, no malice to his tone when he brings it up.

“When I’m with you, you wake up thirty minutes before I leave,” you squint in thought, sure of your answer because it’s a routine that’s stuck for quite some time.

“And when I’m not there-” you start yet you don’t know how to finish, eyes suddenly going blank because there’s no answer that comes to mind. “I don’t know.”

You try not to dwell about your lack for an answer — the reason either being you forgetting it or you not knowing at all. Nonetheless, you try to rectify your lack for an answer by immediately asking.

“What time do you wake — no, you don’t sleep. What time do you get out of bed when I’m not there?”

“Eight,” Jungkook answers. “I get out of bed at eight in the morning when you’re not there.”

He sees you take note of it in your head, your lips mumbling the time to yourself to internalize it without having to write it down.

“I’ll sleep the night before, I promise. I’ll sleep the entire night,” he adds if it means he could lessen your load of worry that you carry with you, trying to find more ways in sharing your burdens that concern him one way or another.

You nod, inarguably feeling lighter.

“Okay.”

( ♡ )

Your parents don’t suspect a thing.

They don’t suspect a thing between you and Jungkook despite knowing the two of you, most especially you, very well. They didn’t think twice about the two of you arriving to the shop in your own cars because just like last time, Jungkook arrives earlier than you and explains why his wife, their daughter, is late.

There isn’t anything questionable about it. You being busy is clockwork by now and Jungkook being the filial son-in-law isn’t anything new.

What is new to them is Jungkook being a little more talkative.

It’s not as if he’s never talked to them when you aren’t by his side, but something was just different to the way he carries himself now. His shoulders are still relaxed but his hands don’t tuck themselves into his pockets, his fingers instead pointing around to ask them about something.

Jungkook seems more present in a way that you almost miss it. Your parents can’t pinpoint what it is exactly but if Jungkook was warm before, then he’s become even warmer now.

He talks more; more attentive as he notices your mother’s new earrings. He’s always figured that she has a penchant for changing up her jewelry but it’s only now that he comments on it, complimenting the dangling charms on her ears that makes her blush.

He laughs more, your father figures. Jungkook outsizes him in height but when he laughs, his shoulders hunch and his face scrunches brightly that they’re almost the same height. He jokes more with your dad nowadays, their banter and shoulder jabs more apparent that it would seem like he’s his actual child.

They just can’t put a finger on it because as much as Jungkook’s always been kind and warm, there’s something about him now that makes him shine a little brighter.

“Hi, baby,” Jungkook greets you the moment you enter the shop, wasting no time in slinging an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. He moves like he’s never seen you before, in fact meeting you by the door before you could even take two steps in and go about what he’s been yearning to do since last week.

“There you are,” he hums, smiling so hard that his eyes crescent when you roll your eyes before returning the kiss to his cheek. He lets his arm wrap around your shoulders, taking you closer to him. “You just really had the urge to deep-clean your couch at four in the morning, huh?”

The half-scoff that leaves your lips is more playful than it is offended, shaking your head when you play along. “Mhmm. Our couch, of course. I love that couch,” you exclaim, finally taking your eyes off him to acknowledge your parents who are watching your interaction unfold. “Takes you longer to clean and exhausts you more when your husband doesn’t help clean it.”

“Oh so now we’re just straight-up lying,” he hums, laughing before letting you go so you could hug your parents.

Your mom and dad can finally put a finger on it now — Jungkook’s just in love. He’s even more in love with you than the last time, the realization fitting just perfectly to the twinkle behind your husband’s eyes.

The shop hasn’t felt this warm to you until now.

Somehow, it’s even warmer than the times you’ve spent your childhood birthdays in here, perched on the counter with a different cake each time. Today’s warmer than that time before when you were excited to take your portraits to commemorate your coming-of-age, eager to brag to your family and friends. It’s warmer than when you came into the shop to announce you received your very first callback in your career; unable to wait for it to close that you ended up yelling the news the moment you came in, and despite not knowing anything besides that you were the daughter of the owners of the shop, everyone else cheered with you.

Now is warmer than the past. Now is warmer with Jungkook.

It helps that your hearts are somehow lighter now because the last time the both of you were at the shop, it was merely the 15th day of your break — and here you are, undoubtedly blithe and easier together on the 28th day.

It’s a foundation that grows solid day by day, the space you’ve established giving more leeway for the two of you to grow and occupy it altogether once more when all faults are recognized.

You and Jungkook work through the motions of completing the renovation, teaming yourselves up with only small talk about the task at hand. The urge to talk to you quite literally shows in the way Jungkook’s eager to finish earlier, his keenness making you smile while you take your time.

It’s only after sunset when everything’s finished; when the second coats of paint are all fully-dried and the shelves are built, when all the furniture’s arranged and Jungkook’s successfully picked up every time-consuming task in the shop to wrap it up earlier.

Jungkook’s body physically burns from the labor but he’s not weary just yet, tugging you to the empty breakroom to catch his breath and finally talk.

“Can I go first?” you ask when Jungkook finally looks like he could blink without seeing darkness at the corners of his eyes, making him drink from your own cup.

Your husband nods eagerly, sitting himself closer to you on the floor because the two of you were too afraid to sit on the new sofa in fear of dirtying it.

It’s quiet like this; with the doors closed and no TV present to provide white noise, no Miso either who’d fill up the space with her presence. This moment alone with Jungkook is what reminds you that it’s been far too long since the two of you have gotten this intimate; this close to each other and this willing to talk.

The two of you are together now simply because you are; no longer in the context of you coming home late at night because of work, too tired to initiate conversation.

“When Yoongi and I were in the club, he admitted that he had a crush on me,” you start as gently as you could, thankful that you’re sitting beside Jungkook and not opposite of him so you wouldn’t feel obligated to look at him. “Had a crush on me back then when we were young, and he has a crush on me now.”

You don’t look at Jungkook because you don’t want to see him upset, but it’s only inevitable that you look at his hurt for you to understand his side completely. It’s not exactly an everyday occurrence to know that your wife’s co-worker, one whom she has to see practically everyday for months, has a crush on her.

“But I told him I was married and he understands, he’s not getting between us or anything like that,” you’re quick to amend, but not in the tone that you’re making it seem you’re on Yoongi’s side. “He told me just a few days ago that the crush he has now is nothing serious, by the way. It’s just the admiration from afar thing.”

Jungkook’s still silent but maybe it’s only like that in your head because you’re still gathering the courage to look at him, only doing so when he squeezes your knee.

“I just wanted to tell you that. It’d be wrong for me not to,” you say truthfully, unable to digest the guilt if you do otherwise. “I’m sorry. I never really got to apologize to you about the Yoongi thing.”

You’re not devoid of faults — you never are and never will be.

“I know this whole dating scandal is hard on you too. Especially Jimin’s plan of not doing anything about it at all,” you chuckle, trying to grasp what you’d feel like if it’s Jungkook who was the celebrity and not you.

The scandals weren’t dying down, in fact they were only getting bigger in number given the new episodes, all of where Yoongi and you kissed and were significantly more affectionate. The two of you haven’t met outside since the article was released, meaning that anything from that point forward is purely made-up.

Jungkook won’t deny that he searches your name and Yoongi’s these days, scrolling through countless of comments. He doesn’t exactly know why he’s doing it either but after every scroll that just unknowingly adds to his own insecurity, Jungkook figures that his trust in you never faltered.

“It’s okay. I’m not upset over it,” your husband admits, having had the time to reevaluate all his initial anger over Yoongi when he saw the two of you at the club. “If I knew from someone else that you met up with your ex, I think I’d get a drink with an old friend too.”

He puts things into perspective and the way he does it relieve you of all your residual guilt, realizing now that although not the best option, your response was only rational; a little confusing and a little flawed, sure, but never malicious.

“I don’t have an ex.”

You smile in reminder that it makes Jungkook do the same, his intake of breath turning a little sharper when he realizes that you’re done with your side.

“It’s my turn to tell you then.”

This time it’s you who eagerly nods, oddly seeing yourself in Jungkook’s actions when he looks down the floor instead of you, a little nervous in saying the truth.

“Yoongi was supposed to ask you out back then.”

Jungkook says it as casually as he could, to not make it seem as serious as it actually was. He doesn’t know if he executed the bit perfectly but it warrants a reaction from you anyway, eyes widened in genuine surprise.

“What? I didn’t know that.”

“I know. Jimin slipped about it,” Jungkook continues. “He brought it up casually because he told me that Yoongi told him, then he thought I knew about it because he assumed the two of us were friends.”

“When did you and Jimin even talk?” your eyes narrow in confusion. The last time you checked, Jimin was close to you (and Jungkook by extension) enough to attend your wedding, but not close enough for him and Jungkook to sustain a conversation by themselves.

“How were your meals?” Jungkook grins, dimples in full display while he watches the gears in your head turn. “Did they taste good? I hope they were still hot when you got them.”

“My meals? What — no,” you gasp when you realize, knowing that your suspicion over catering cooking your every favorite meal was too good to be true. “You were the one who made them?”

“Mhmm,” Jungkook proudly hums, feeling a burst of your pride when you lean your head on his shoulder giddily. “Then I got Jimin to deliver them to you personally so you wouldn’t question catering.”

“Cute,” you mumble, looking up at him from your spot on his shoulder. “Back to the Yoongi part?”

“Right, the Yoongi part,” Jungkook sighs, putting his arm around your shoulder while you held his hand. “Based from what you just said, maybe Yoongi didn’t just have a crush on you, y’know? He loved you enough that he planned to ask you out.”

“And get this,” Jungkook adds, a solemn look to his face when he almost whispers it to you as if it’s a secret. “I only beat him to it a day earlier.”

He watches you process it all, waiting for it to click in before he continues so he’d know you were on the same pace with him.

“I asked you on the 1st, right? Do you still remember the date, hm? I bet you don’t,” Jungkook teases, a welcome moment of playfulness from the nature of your conversation.

“Don’t test me,” you huff, crossing your arms in retort. “You asked me out on the first day of October,” you enunciate, not having to think about it twice. “In case you don’t remember, dummy, October 1st is also our wedding date.”

“Wow. My girl knows so much, hm?” Jungkook laughs heartily, throwing his head back when he resumes his hold on you while the two of you lean against the wall. “I asked you out on October 1, then that means Yoongi would’ve asked you out on October 2.”

It’s fate; narrow fate that would’ve been changed completely if only it wasn’t kind enough to favor Jungkook.

“I narrowly beat him by a day. It was almost not me,” he plays with his wedding band. “If I was just a day late, I don’t know if I’d even be here.”

“Yoongi was almost your first boyfriend, your first love,” he exhales heavily at the thought, smiling although it doesn’t exactly look the happiest. “Your first everything.”

It’s a thought that sinks into him every second the moment he’s learned of it, the alternate of what could’ve happened haunting him by the minute. Jungkook doesn’t even know if lucky was the right term to call it. Luck seemed too shallow to be in charge of a blessing as big as you. “I’m glad fate was on my side when it led me to you.”

“It’s hard to digest everything, I know,” Jungkook admits, because even he found it difficult trying to take everything at once. “I don’t know if I could wrap my head around it now, but I want to ask,” he swallows the lump in his throat, looking straight through you that you can’t find yourself avoiding his gaze. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“If I got the whole timing wrong and Yoongi asked you out first, would you have accepted?” your husband asks. “Would you have married him?” Jungkook asks one question after the other, the gravity of it still plaguing him even if he’s said it out-loud. “If it was him and not me, would you still be happy?”

It’s a question that rattles you to your core, all the way down to your bones that your fingers tingle and it’s your ring finger that feels like twitching. It’s a loaded question that only crossed Jungkook’s mind a hundred times before he sleeps, and it a question that’s only crossed your mind now.

“I wouldn’t know, Jungkook,” you whisper, a little winded. “I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook nods, swallowing the hurt.

He can’t blame you — he wouldn’t blame you. He’s not the only one hurting in this equation and it would be unfair of him to require you to give him an answer now; now when it’s apparent that you’re beyond shaken and your mind feels like it’s about to split open.

“Now stand up. Ring me up as the first and last customer of the day before I go home,” Jungkook urges you to stand up, leading you by your hand to place you behind the counter, and him to stand at the other side of it.

“What are you doing?” you mumble, barely coherent because one second, your husband’s asking you if it would still be him if Yoongi had only asked you out earlier, and now, he wants you to play cashier with him.

“I have an order, baby. Just stand behind the counter and let me pay.”

Jungkook explains gently, fetching his bag with him and pulls out a whole lunchbox filled with undeveloped film canisters, the same container where he’d put in all your snacks before you left for work.

You’re speechless as you look at the collection, neatly placed together but you know that there’s hundreds of pictures and memories in that single lunchbox alone, the fact that this is all coming from your husband making your mind blank.

“All of these, please. I’ve been collecting for awhile,” he says casually, pulling out his wallet.

“Jungkook,” you call, opening the lunchbox to see the canisters for yourself if they were real and not merely props. “Since when did this start?”

Your husband doesn’t answer, instead giving you the exact amount and peering over the counter because you’re still dazed, using your fingers to punch his order in. “You’ll know. I never turned off the timestamp.”

“Bye. I love you. Text me when you get to your house,” Jungkook bids you goodbye and it’s only then that you snap out momentarily, eyes beady from trying to process the last minutes alone. He leans in just a little, all to be able to press a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

You stare when he exits the shop, watching him drive away until you could no longer see his car from the distance.

There’s no time you waste when all of the systems in your head tell you to develop your husband’s films now, not passing up a single second because it’s more of an instinct than an urge. You get to work immediately, having to fend off your parents that you’ll handle this alone and they could come home while you close off everything once you’re done.

You get to the darkroom and do everything as quickly and as precisely as you could, seeing vague figures by the moment you hang each print to dry. It takes you the rest of the night until the early hours of morning to go through everything, greatly too impatient that you physically had to step out of the room while waiting.

It’s only when your timer goes off that you allow yourself to be in the same space with the pictures that your husband took through the years, eyes skimming over each one to look at the timestamp.

The very first picture, the very first one you processed that’s hung in the frontmost line in the darkroom dates back to October 1, five years ago — the very same day he asked you out.

The realization hits you deeply because the moment you step back, you see that every image, every composition in this darkroom of all the film pictures Jungkook has taken for the past five years, is you.

It’s pictures taken of you candidly, when you’re in mid-conversation and when your eyes are turned away from the camera. It’s images of you that are taken from afar, your silhouette turned to Jungkook and facing whatever’s in front of you instead, almost never making eye contact at all. There’s several where there’s mirrors involved and while Jungkook meant to capture your smile, he unintentionally captured his too while looking at you.

There’s pictures taken of you in your important milestones; in your wedding dress while Jungkook hung around in the back to see you getting prepared for the reception, and in bed when you’re wearing his shirt, reading the script for In Terms of Eternity’s pilot episode.

There’s mementos taken of you all over the place; ones where you’re in the driver’s seat and ones where you’re on your phone. There’s pictures of you fixing yourself in the mirror and pictures of you as you sleep, your head tucked to his neck and where half of Jungkook’s face is visible. Pictures of your hands with your wedding band worn and even pictures of you laughing, the shots itself being blurry because Jungkook laughs while you do.

Each one, all of them you.

It’s a definitive answer that you can say to Jungkook now, the question to whether or not it would still be him if Yoongi got the better slice of timing. You don’t know any other love like Jungkook’s and you’re content with it — you’re at peace knowing that Jungkook’s your first love, your first kiss, your first everything.

The answer’s clearer than ever when you see each picture that proved to you Jungkook’s love had never wavered nor faltered, no matter the distance nor the blurriness in his pictures.

It has always been, and always will be Jungkook.

( ♡ )

You can’t move.

Your body feels far too strained and exhausted to move, even attempting to raise your head makes you want to faint. It’s barely going well and you want to try so hard to leave your house and come home to Jungkook, but things simply were not on your side.

You already should’ve left at six in the morning and that was when you gathered your remaining strength that was left from your fever that developed drastically overnight. It was just the occasional headache and the nausea a few days ago, but figuring that you thought little of it and proceeded to work with filming until the late of the night, your sickness has gotten worse unsurprisingly.

You’re more than prepared, even packing back all your stuff into the luggage you came with and setting an alarm for you to drive home early. All you had to do was wake up and drive — and now that you’re barely coping with the first, your car won’t start.

It won’t start no matter how much you try to remedy it by popping open your hood, unable to gauge what’s wrong because your fever’s getting the best of you and you could barely function. It was six in the morning when you trekked back to your bed and decided to take just a brief nap in hopes you’d get better.

But it’s already been four hours — it’s ten in the morning.

It’s two hours past eight and Jungkook’s been waiting for you for two hours, unable to hold it all in when it turned seven in the morning and you still weren’t there.

Jungkook’s hurt and cries his heart out because he’s slept for this, hoped for this. He didn’t know how to react when he opens his eyes at eight in the morning to not see you beside him. Jungkook’s hurt, beyond hurt to the point of speaking but he stands up immediately with a newfound drive.

He won’t settle for this. He’ll fight you on this.

Jungkook takes his key to your house and wastes no time in jamming it into your front door, vision blurry still because he drove all the way here while barely coherent. He marches up the stairs, failing to see your luggage that’s already near the front door, all that’s left for you to do was to load it in your trunk and go home to him.

Your husband storms to your room and throws the door open, voice cracking to see you still underneath the comforter.

“Get up.”

He sees you rumbling from underneath it but you don’t talk, only making him more distraught that he comes closer to the foot of your bed.

“Get up from bed right now because we’re going to fight.”

He’s no longer your husband who didn’t want to fight you on things for the sake of self-preservation. He’s no longer the one who avoided confrontation in fear of setting you apart from him because this is what he gets from being so passive — from being so unwilling to fight you.

“We’re going to fight right now because I don’t want you to break up with me,” he grits through tears, shaking your foot at the end of the bed. “I don’t want to let you go.”

Your movements from underneath the comforter are more apparent but you still don’t get up, springing Jungkook into walking to your side of the bed where your head laid.

“Get up, Y/N. I’m not kidding,” Jungkook tears up, only to shake you awake by your shoulder but he feels the abnormal warmth of it before he could even speak, the realization settling in.

“Can we fight tomorrow?” you ask in a small voice, turning over to look at Jungkook who’s been crying. “My head feels like it’s splitting open.”

“You’re sick,” Jungkook exclaims, half in worry yet half in relief because it’s the only reason to why you didn’t come home to him before hoke up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He was worried, beyond out of his mind that the first thing he does now is get underneath the covers with you, embracing you tightly. You feel it too, feeling apologetic that you were late but what’s important now is that Jungkook’s here with you, fully aware that you have no intention of leaving him.

“I was gonna come back home, trust me. My bags were all prepared,” you mumble to his neck, your husband immediately cradling your face to it as he hushes you to not strain your voice and explain. “I really was! But then my car wouldn’t start, and when I woke up this morning, I was sick.”

“I know. I know now. It’s okay, baby. I understand,” Jungkook says gently, rocking you back and forth and only thinking of now, choosing to plan later on how he’ll nurse you back to health and eventually take you home to where you belong.

“Were you serious awhile ago?” you ask while your face is still buried to his chest, your husband unwilling to ease up because he’s missed you beyond words. “Would you really have fought with me if I didn’t come back?”

“Of course. I won’t let you break up with me until I lose my fight with you,” Jungkook answers without skipping a beat. “I’m not letting you break up with me until I know I’ve exhausted every possible way for you not to.”

“I never plan on breaking up with you,” you snort, the sudden reply making you wince because your head ached from it. You get the teasing, lightest ever possible forehead flick you could ever receive in your life, your husband hushing you to just stop talking.

“Jungkook?” you hum, making him open his eyes because they were closed from how at peace he is just by being with you. “I have an answer.”

“Answer to what?” your husband’s brows furrow, a slight pout on his lips because he can’t decipher what you’re pertaining to.

“When you basically asked me if it would still be you if you got the timing wrong and everything,” you trail, the realization finally crossing him.

You think back on all the pictures Jungkook’s taken of you, several of the many manifestations of his love for you. He hums, raising an eyebrow with a curious smile on his lips.

The words didn’t need to be said at this point because it’s an unspoken truth anyway, but with all your heart and experience of loving Jungkook, sometimes, saying the obvious wouldn’t hurt.

“The answer’s you,” you smile, warm hand finding his to flick at his wedding band. “It’s always you.”

EPILOGUE

In Terms of Eternity turned out to be a massive success that just two years later, it’s been announced to have a sequel.

Everyone’s happy with it, you yourself in a great shock over it too because you got bigger than you could ever imagine — and in the peak of it, you get to wear your wedding band to work.

The entirety of the people responsible for the drama’s in your home, one that’s a house outside of the city and not an apartment in the heart of it. It’s rightfully massive, just enough to fit everyone who’s ever contributed to the success of it.

The house was built from the ground up instead of bought, each single centimeter of space being carefully planned by you and Jungkook together. It’s new, but it’s a beautiful, exciting kind of new — one that didn’t need everything to be replaced and instead housed some of the old; just like the baby blue floor couch and the third-biggest variation of the king-sized bed that are your clear favorites.

Countless presentations have been made of letting the other win, all varying from Jungkook’s requests of having a game room and a den to your plea of commissioning to have an obscenely large painting of your choice to put in the house.

It’s a matter of yielding and loving, all of it that made this space the home of your dreams with your husband.

“Scotch for you,” Yoongi greets from nowhere as he squeezes in himself between you and Jungkook, giving the drink to your husband who surprisingly, clicked with him and is now his best friend.

He’s just about to say his next words when he sees Miso from the corner of the living room, coming to hide slightly behind Jungkook even if the cat makes no move. “God, she scares me. Did either of you ever know why she’s tried killing me multiple times already?”

“Nope. Not a single clue,” Jungkook laughs, shaking his head while he pokes a tongue to his cheek.

Yoongi lets it go, grinning as he holds your drink up. “And gin for you.”

Your mouth dries before you could even push the drink away from you, your husband already stepping in.

“Mhmm, no. No gin for my wife,” he hums, taking the glass instead to pour it into his throat all in one go.

“But you love gin!” Yoongi furrows his brows in confusion, offering you his glass of gin instead that he hasn’t sipped out of.

“I do, but I really can’t, Yoongi,” you smile, biting your lip tentatively when you raise your eyebrows at him.

You wait for a beat for your best friend to comprehend but he still doesn’t, reminding you that he could be a bit slow sometimes.

Jungkook can’t take it either that he just laughs, taking you closer to him by the waist and puts you in front of him, announcing the news in a low voice with a warm hand on your stomach.

“We’re expecting.”

#the finale <3 ty for being here with me!#jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook fic recs #jungkook masterlist

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