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jkwrites-m · 3 days ago

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Daddy Kookie (2)

Pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

Genre: childhood lovers to exes to lovers, parents au, idol au, smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: After Jungkook dropped all contact, Y/N was left broken - and pregnant. Seven years later, fate brings them back together.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, angst, abandonment, young (teenage) pregnancy, unintentional parental neglect, resentment, fighting, boundaries, guilt, burnout, anxiety, confessions, reunions, slapping, anger, heartbreak, cursing, struggle, explicit: PRAISING, kissing, missionary, tension, pillow talk, unprotected sex

A/N: here’s what was originally the ending of part one but for some reason i can’t post that many blocks 😒 so here’s the “part 2”.

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═══════

I found Namjoon in the hotel gym that night.

He was alone, earbuds in, pacing the far side of the room with a water bottle tucked under one arm, muttering rehearsal notes to himself like he always did before a show. I stood in the doorway for a solid minute before I said anything.

He saw me in the mirror first.

Pulled out one earbud.

“You alright?” he asked.

“No.”

He nodded once and didn’t press me.

Just set down his bottle and motioned toward the bench press like, sit.

I sat.

And for a while, neither of us said a word.

“I met with her this morning,” I said finally, my voice rough from not speaking since the show.

Namjoon didn’t ask who.

He just waited.

“I asked for an hour. She gave me exactly that.”

I rubbed my hands together. My legs were bouncing, and I couldn’t stop.

“I thought I was ready to see her. But I wasn’t.”

Still, Namjoon said nothing.

“She has a daughter.”

His brows lifted just slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

“She’s mine,” I added. “Her name is Eun Ae.”

That got him.

Namjoon blinked slowly and sat down on the bench across from me. “You’re a dad?”

I nodded. “I didn’t know. I- God, hyung, I blocked her. She tried to tell me and I just… I disappeared.”

He sighed but didn’t scold me.

I think that made it worse.

“She raised her alone,” I said. “Worked. Went to school. Everything. No help. And I was here, living my dream while she was raising my kid and barely surviving.”

“You didn’t know,” Namjoon said carefully.

“I should’ve.”

“That’s true.”

I buried my face in my hands. “She’s giving me one chance. Tomorrow. At the zoo. I get to meet her - meet my daughter - for the first time and I don’t even know how to breathe around the thought of it.”

He let me sit in the silence for a beat.

Then: “What are you most scared of?”

“That she’ll hate me.”

Namjoon’s gaze softened.

“That she’ll ask me where I’ve been,” I whispered, “and I won’t know how to answer.”

“You don’t have to have all the answers,” he said. “You just have to show up. That’s what matters now.”

“I want to be in her life,” I said. “I want to earn it. I want to be someone she can count on. Not someone she has to recover from.”

Namjoon nodded slowly. “That’s a good place to start.”

“And Y/N…” My voice cracked. “I still love her.”

“I know.”

“I don’t expect her to forgive me. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I want her to see that I’m not the same kid who left.”

“You’re not,” he said.

I looked up at him. “What if I ruin it again?”

“Then you don’t,” Namjoon said. “You show up. You listen. You apologize. You be present. And if they don’t let you in, you keep showing up until they do- or until they tell you to stop. Either way, you stay honest.”

I nodded, swallowing hard.

“Thanks, hyung.”

He gave a tired smile. “Get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

I didn’t sleep much.

But I dreamed of a little girl with my eyes.

And Y/N beside her.

═══════

It was her idea to wear her tiger hoodie.

“Because we’re going to the zoo,” she said, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

I tied her shoelaces twice- her feet wouldn’t stop bouncing- then stood up and stared at her for a moment too long.

“Mama?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you nervous?”

A pause.

“No,” I said. “I’m just thinking.”

It wasn’t a lie. I was thinking. About everything.

About how I swore he’d never meet her. About how easily I’d broken that rule yesterday. About how I’d watched his hands tremble when I said the word daughter.

He didn’t cry, not fully.

But he looked like someone who had finally understood what it meant to break something that couldn’t be fixed.

I kept that image close as I buckled her into her booster seat and drove to the zoo.

He was already waiting by the entrance.

Sunglasses. Mask. Hoodie. Head tucked down.

It should’ve made him look anonymous.

It didn’t.

Even behind all that, he looked unmistakably like him.

And when Eun Ae saw him, she didn’t pause.

She ran.

Full-speed. Straight up to him like she’d known him her whole life.

“Hi!” she chirped. “I’m Eun Ae. Are you the friend Mama said we’re meeting?”

He knelt down slowly.

I watched his fingers shake as he pulled the mask down from his face.

“Yeah,” he said, voice cracking. “I’m… I’m Jungkook.”

“That’s a funny name,” she giggled. “Can I call you Mr. Kookie?”

He let out a short, stunned laugh.

“Sure,” he said, clearing his throat. “You can call me that.”

She grabbed his hand like it was nothing. Like it was normal.

Like this hadn’t been six years coming.

I followed a few steps behind them, unsure what to do with my arms, my heart, my breath.

They moved together easily.

Too easily.

He matched her pace. Let her pick which exhibits to visit. Lifted her onto his shoulders to see the giraffes. Bought her a pretzel and wiped the cheese off her face without hesitation. They laughed at the same things. Tilted their heads the same way when they were curious. Chewed the straw of their drinks when they were thinking.

They were mirrors.

And I was the frame- holding it all together, barely.

At the tiger enclosure, Eun Ae pressed her palms to the glass and gasped.

“They’re so cool!” she shouted. “I want one!”

“They’re a little big for a pet,” Jungkook said, crouching next to her.

“I’d teach it tricks.”

“I bet you would.”

There was a pause. Then she asked the question I’d been dreading.

“Did you know my mom when she was my age?”

Jungkook blinked.

I tensed.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I did.”

“Was she weird like me?”

“She was perfect,” he said. “Exactly like you.”

She grinned. “So… super weird?”

He laughed, and I heard something in it that sounded like mourning.

Later, while she climbed a small jungle gym near the café, I sat beside him on the bench.

He didn’t speak at first.

Just watched her, eyes full of things I didn’t want to name.

“She’s incredible,” he whispered.

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“You already said that.”

“I’ll say it again,” he said. “As many times as you need.”

We sat in silence for a long time.

Then I heard my voice say something I hadn’t planned.

“You’re good with her.”

He turned to me, surprised.

“She doesn’t know who you are,” I added. “But she likes you.”

“I’m glad.”

“She’s never had… that. A male figure. Anyone to play like that with.”

He looked away. “That’s my fault.”

I didn’t correct him.

He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled something out.

A little stuffed tiger.

“I bought this on the way here,” he said, holding it up. “I didn’t know if I’d get to give it to her.”

She ran back to us just then, sweaty and smiling.

Jungkook knelt again and held out the tiger.

“For you.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Thanks, Mr. Kookie!”

She hugged him. No hesitation.

He closed his eyes like the moment hurt in a way he needed.

═══════

That night, after Eun Ae was tucked into bed, I sat on the couch with a blanket around my shoulders and my phone pressed to my ear.

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

Like the kind of quiet that presses in on your skin and makes your thoughts louder than they should be.

“She hugged him,” I whispered.

My best friend on the other end of the line didn’t speak. She waited. She always did.

“She hugged him like she’d known him her whole life. Like he hadn’t missed anything. Like he hadn’t disappeared.”

I wiped under my eyes with the edge of my sleeve.

“And he was… good with her. Gentle. Patient. Funny. Like he’d been waiting his whole life to meet her. Like he already loved her.”

“You sound surprised,” my friend said.

“I am,” I confessed. “I don’t want to be. But I am.”

There was a pause.

“You still love him,” she said.

I closed my eyes.

“Don’t,” I said softly. “Please.”

“Y/N-”

“I can’t afford to love him,” I whispered. “Not again. Not after what he did.”

The words came out raw and wet and cracked.

“I spent years hating him,” I said. “Years trying to forget the way he looked at me, the way he kissed me, the way he made me believe in things that never came true. And today, I watched him hold our daughter’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I…This could’ve been real. This life. This moment. All of it. If he had just… stayed.”

I swallowed the sob that threatened.

“I didn’t feel anger. I didn’t feel hate. I felt… sad. And full. And furious. And terrified. All at once.”

“You’re allowed to feel all of that.”

“I know. But it doesn’t make it easier.”

She didn’t say anything for a while.

Then: “Do you think he still loves you?”

I laughed. Quiet and bitter. “He says he does.”

“And do you believe him?”

I looked out the window. The city lights blinked back like stars caught in a snow globe.

“I believe he thinks he does,” I said. “But I don’t know if he loves me- who I am now. Not the girl he left behind.”

“You don’t have to decide anything now.”

“I don’t want to decide anything,” I said. “I just want to breathe again.”

I hung up after that.

Tucked my phone under the blanket and rested my head on the arm of the couch. My eyes closed. My chest ached. I felt heavy and hollow and full of fire all at the same time.

And then I heard it.

A shuffle.

A creak of the hallway floorboard.

I turned.

Jungkook stood there, just outside the door frame, his hand against the wall like he needed it to hold himself up.

He hadn’t knocked.

He hadn’t said a word.

He just looked at me like he’d walked straight into the center of a storm he hadn’t seen coming.

“You heard all that,” I said, my voice flat.

He didn’t deny it.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said quietly. “I was bringing back the little drawing she made. She left it in my jacket pocket. I was going to knock. I just… heard you.”

I sat up slowly.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

He didn’t budge.

“Y/N,” he said softly, voice shaking. “I love you. Not just the girl I left. Not some idea. You. Right now. All of it.”

And then he crossed the room.

Without another word, he bent down and kissed me.

Soft and sure and shaking all at once.

And for one second - just one - I kissed him back.

It was like breathing again for the first time in years. Like lightning. Like a heartbeat I didn’t know I missed.

But then I pulled back.

And I slapped him.

Hard.

He didn’t even flinch.

“You can’t just do that,” I said, my voice rising. “You don’t get to walk in here, say I love you, and kiss me like it erases what you did.”

“I know,” he said, eyes shining. “I know it doesn’t fix anything. I just needed you to know it’s real.”

A long silence stretched between us.

He finally set the folded piece of paper on the table.

It was a crayon drawing. Stick figures. A tiger. The word “KOOKIE” spelled backwards across the top.

“I’ll go,” he said, stepping back. “But… thank you. For today.”

He turned and walked out before I could say a word.

And I sat there, hands shaking, heart a mess, trying not to chase after him.

Because no matter how much I wanted to…

I didn’t know if I could survive loving him again.

═══════

I didn’t mean to kiss her.

I meant to leave.

I meant to say those words and walk away like a man who’d learned his lesson. Who knew better now.

But when I looked at her- sitting on that couch, eyes full of grief and strength- I forgot what I was supposed to do.

And when her lips touched mine back… for that brief, burning second, I thought maybe I wasn’t too late.

But then she slapped me.

And she was right to.

I walked out shortly after. The drawing Eun Ae made was still on the table. The door shut behind me like punctuation on a sentence I’d rewritten too many times in my head.

I didn’t go to my room.

I went to Namjoon’s.

He was still up, writing in a leather-bound notebook like always. When he opened the door and saw my face, he didn’t ask. Just moved aside to let me in.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands gripping the hem of my hoodie.

“She still hates me,” I said.

Namjoon didn’t reply. Just waited.

“I heard her talking to someone. On the phone. After the zoo.” I exhaled shakily. “She said it could’ve been real. The life. The moment. If I had just stayed.”

My voice cracked.

“She’s right,” I said. “It could’ve been. I destroyed everything.”

Namjoon sat in the chair across from me, elbows on his knees. “You didn’t destroy everything.”

“I kissed her,” I admitted.

That got a raised eyebrow.

“She kissed me back. For a second. Then she slapped me.”

Namjoon didn’t flinch. “You probably deserved it.”

“I definitely deserved it.”

I leaned forward, elbows on my thighs, head in my hands.

“She thinks I’m just showing up now because of Eun Ae. But it’s not that. I was going to try before I even knew. I swear. I just… I still love her. That never went away.”

“I know,” Namjoon said. “We all do.”

“She said she doesn’t know if I love who she is now. Not the girl I left behind.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “She’s stronger. Sharper. She’s everything I wish I’d grown up fast enough to deserve.”

Namjoon nodded slowly.

“Then show her,” he said. “Not with words. You’ve said enough. Do something.”

“Like what?”

“Think,” he said. “What did she love? What mattered to her?”

I blinked.

“Wildflowers,” I said. “She always picked the ugly ones growing out of sidewalk cracks. Said they were survivors.”

Namjoon smiled. “Then that’s where you start.”

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat.

“I’m going to show up,” I said. “Every day. Until she tells me not to. Or until she believes me.”

“Good,” Namjoon said. “And Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not a piece of shit. You were a scared kid who made a selfish mistake. Now you’re a man who has to own it.”

I nodded again.

I wasn’t running anymore.

Tomorrow, I’d bring her flowers.

Not roses.

Not something expensive or flashy.

Just wildflowers.

The ones that survive.

═══════

He didn’t text the next morning.

Didn’t call.

Didn’t knock.

But when I opened the door to take out the trash, there was a bouquet of wildflowers on the step.

No note.

No explanation.

Just color.

Simple and honest.

I stared at them for a long time before I brought them inside.

I didn’t put them in a vase.

Not yet.

Eun Ae noticed them instantly.

“Oooh, are those for you?”

“Yeah,” I said, almost under my breath.

“From Mr. Kookie?”

I froze.

She giggled. “He smells like sunshine.”

I blinked. “What?”

“His hoodie. It smelled like sunshine. And gum.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

She took one of the smaller stems from the bouquet and tucked it behind my ear before skipping off to play.

═══════

The next day, he didn’t bring flowers.

He brought her a book.

One of those thick picture books with a glittery cover and a dragon on the front. She shrieked like she’d won the lottery. He handed it to her without a word and let her read to him, even though she kept skipping pages and making up half the story.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t correct her.

He just smiled like it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

I watched from the kitchen, trying not to feel anything.

Trying to stay steady.

Trying not to remember the way his hand had felt on my cheek when he kissed me.

And the sting of my own palm after.

═══════

The third day, he showed up with both- flowers for me, a new stuffed animal (a bunny this time) for her, and takeout from my favorite noodle place.

He didn’t ask to stay.

Just handed it over, bowed, and walked away.

I didn’t stop him.

But I didn’t close the door right away either.

═══════

The fourth day, he didn’t come.

And I hated how I noticed.

How the absence felt like a missing rhythm in my day. A skipped beat.

I told myself it was good. Smart. Necessary.

That space was healthy.

But then he texted.

Jungkook: Didn’t want to crowd you today. Just… wanted you to know I’m here.

I didn’t reply.

But I stared at that message for a long time.

═══════

The fifth day, he came by again. This time he asked if we wanted to go for ice cream.

Eun Ae screamed like he’d asked her to Disneyland.

I tried to say no.

I did.

But my mouth betrayed me.

“Okay,” I said. “Just an hour.”

He didn’t smile like he won.

He smiled like it hurt to be that grateful.

We walked to the corner shop with her bouncing between us. He let her pick his flavor. She made him get bubblegum. He pretended to like it. I knew he didn’t.

He caught me watching him.

And didn’t look away.

That night, after she was in bed, I sat on the same couch, stared at the same wall, and whispered into the dark:

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

And I meant it.

I wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

But I also wasn’t closing the door anymore.

Not all the way.

═══════

I should’ve known it was too good to last.

The morning started perfect.

Too perfect.

Jungkook showed up with matching zoo t-shirts he found online. One for him, one for Eun Ae. Hers said “Mini Tiger.” His said “Big Tiger.”

She laughed for five straight minutes and made him wear it out in public.

I rolled my eyes and told him he was shameless.

He just grinned and handed me a coffee with two extra espresso shots- exactly the way I liked it.

“Trying to bribe me?” I asked.

“Maybe.”

I didn’t smile.

But my fingers brushed his on accident when I took the cup.

And I didn’t pull away.

We took Eun Ae to the botanical gardens. Let her feed koi fish and run across wooden bridges with her stuffed tiger tucked under one arm. Jungkook stayed close the entire time. Carrying her backpack, tying her shoe when it came undone, wiping ice cream off her face.

It almost looked like a family.

Almost.

We sat on the grass to rest before lunch, and she ran over to the koi pond like it was a different world.

“She’s so comfortable with you,” I said, trying not to let it sound like an accusation.

“I’m glad,” he said. “I want her to be.”

There was a quiet pause.

Then he looked at me and said something that should’ve been sweet.

But it wasn’t.

“She’s just like you, you know.”

I blinked.

“She’s strong and stubborn and always needs to be right. She even talks with her hands like you do- ”

“Don’t,” I said, sharper than I meant to.

He froze. “What?”

“Don’t compare us like that.”

“I wasn’t- I meant it as a good thing-”

“She’s not a mirror, Jungkook,” I snapped. “She’s a person. Her own person.”

“I know that,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like- ”

“You weren’t around. You don’t know what she’s like. You’ve seen her for what? A week? You don’t get to analyze her like you raised her.”

His mouth opened. Then closed.

And I saw something shift in his eyes.

Something small and hurt.

Then a tiny voice interrupted us.

“I’m sorry,” Eun Ae whispered.

We both turned.

She was standing by the fish pond again, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to make you mad,” she sniffled. “I’ll be good.”

“No,” I said quickly, moving toward her. “Baby, no. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She clung to me like her little heart might explode.

I scooped her up and pressed her to my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice thick. “I’m not mad at you. I promise. You didn’t do anything.”

She looked over my shoulder at Jungkook. “Are you mad too?”

He shook his head, eyes glassy. “No, sweetheart. Never.”

“I just wanted to have a nice day,” she mumbled.

My throat tightened.

“I know,” I whispered.

We sat on the bench together for a long time after that.

No one said much.

═══════

Eun Ae fell asleep in the car on the way home, and Jungkook carried her inside like muscle memory. He tucked her into bed without needing directions, covered her with her favorite blanket, and kissed the crown of her head before stepping back like it hurt to walk away.

Neither of us said much after that.

He left for the venue early that night to prep for their final concert.

I stood in the hallway after he left, hand pressed against the door, heart aching like it was made of split seams and bad timing.

I didn’t cry.

But I wanted to.

Because I knew this was what I did.

Push away before I could be left again.

═══════

The stadium vibrated under my feet.

Screams rolled like thunder across the roof, and I could feel the beat of the music reverberating through the concrete backstage walls.

It was the final night of BTS’s residency.

Everything was fire.

Everything was electric.

Everything was right- except me.

I stood at the main comms table with a headset snug against my ears, spitting rapid-fire cues to the light techs, the camera ops, and the runners, my voice a metronome of control.

“Camera C, pan stage right. Cue smoke burst. Light rig alpha, wait two seconds on drop- no, two seconds, not four-”

My tone was clipped. My spine straight.

On the outside, I looked like I had it together.

But I could feel it.

The crack behind my ribs. The pulse behind my eyes. The way I flinched every time his voice cut through the speakers.

Every note he sang.

Every lyric he poured his soul into.

It hurt.

I told myself I didn’t care.

I told myself I was over it.

But every time the lights shifted and his silhouette appeared, I remembered the way he’d looked when he kissed me and the way he’d stayed when I slapped him.

I remembered how his voice broke when he said, “I love you. Right now. All of it.”

I remembered the way he meant it.

And I remembered how much that terrified me.

“Y/N?” someone called in my ear. “Spotlight three needs confirmation. We’re doing the slow solo bridge in thirty.”

I blinked, the fog in my head thick.

“Copy that,” I said quickly. “Cue in thirty. Confirm on bridge.”

I watched the monitors as he stepped up to the center of the stage.

Alone.

Golden lights haloed around him. Fans screamed his name from every direction.

And he sang.

Not just to them.

I knew that voice.

I knew when it was for the crowd…

…and when it was for me.

My hands curled into fists at my sides.

Stop it.

Don’t romanticize this.

Don’t soften.

But I did.

I always did.

Every time his voice cracked. Every time he hit a note like it cost him a piece of himself.

He looked straight into the lens during the final chorus- the one that streamed to every screen in the arena.

It was almost too direct.

Too intentional.

And in that moment, I knew.

He wasn’t singing to a sea of strangers.

He was singing to me.

The cue ended. The screen faded to black. Lights cut. Screams exploded.

My heart thudded harder than the bass.

I turned away from the monitor and pulled off my headset.

I needed air.

The crew backstage was already preparing for encore. The guys were offstage hydrating, catching their breath, prepping for the last two songs.

I slipped through a side door and stepped out into the shadowed corridor by the loading dock. It was cold. Quiet. The noise of the crowd muffled by thick walls.

I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

I didn’t want this to hurt.

But it did.

I didn’t want to care.

But I did.

And worst of all?

I didn’t want to want him.

But God, I did.

═══════

The cheers were still echoing in my bones.

My shirt clung to my back, soaked through with sweat. My hair was dripping. My lungs were still catching up.

But all I could think about was her.

I didn’t see her once during the show. Not backstage. Not in the wings. Not even in the flashes of tech crew darting through shadows.

But I felt her.

Like gravity.

Like silence.

Like a missing beat in the rhythm I couldn’t get right.

I sat alone in the dressing room while the rest of the guys laughed and recapped their favorite fan chants. Jimin had his feet on the table, Taehyung was dancing shirtless with a can of soda, and Jin was complaining about the confetti in his hair.

But I couldn’t join them.

I couldn’t even smile.

My hands trembled as I unlaced my boots. My knees bounced restlessly. My throat was dry, but I couldn’t drink anything.

Because all I could hear was her voice.

“You don’t know what she’s like.”

“You weren’t around.”

“You don’t get to analyze her like you raised her.”

She was right.

Every word.

I’d tried so hard to connect, I didn’t realize I was stepping on landmines she’d spent years trying to bury.

I messed it up.

Again.

“Yo,” Namjoon said, stepping into the room and tossing me a towel. “You good?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

I sighed. “I know.”

He sat down across from me, cracking open a bottle of water and sliding one my way.

“She didn’t talk to me tonight,” I said.

“You talk to her?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then maybe she’s waiting.”

“Or maybe she’s done.”

Namjoon didn’t say anything to that. He just leaned back and looked at me with those eyes that saw way too much.

“Do you regret it?” he asked.

I blinked. “Regret what?”

“Kissing her.”

I hesitated.

“No,” I said. “Not for a second.”

“She kissed you back.”

“Just for a second.”

“But she did,” he said. “And that means something.”

“Does it?”

He nodded. “It means she hasn’t closed the door. She’s just scared to open it.”

I stared at the floor.

“I don’t want to scare her,” I whispered. “I just want to show her that I’m not that kid anymore. That I’m not running. That I’m here. I’m here.”

Namjoon leaned forward. “Then tell her. Really tell her. Not to fix things. Not to beg. Just to say it. Say what you didn’t back then.”

I nodded slowly.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” I said.

“Then tonight’s your last chance.”

“I don’t know if she’ll open the door.”

“Then knock anyway.”

I looked up.

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “If she sends me away, I don’t know if I’ll recover.”

“She won’t send you away,” he said. “Not if you’re honest. Not if you’re real.”

I took a deep breath.

I was real.

I was terrified.

But I was real.

═══════

I didn’t ask what he was doing here.

I didn’t ask why he looked like he hadn’t slept in days or why his fingers were twitching at his sides like they didn’t know how to be still.

I just watched as he stepped inside my apartment, slowly, like the floor might vanish beneath him and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

He stood there for a long time.

Like he couldn’t find the words.

Like if he said the wrong thing, I’d vanish.

I leaned against the wall and waited.

He finally looked up.

“I didn’t know how to leave this city without seeing you again.”

I didn’t reply.

“I’m not asking for anything,” he said. “Not your forgiveness. Not a second chance. Not some happy ending I don’t deserve. I just… I need you to know.”

His voice cracked.

“I need you to know that I never stopped loving you.”

My breath caught.

“I didn’t leave because I stopped. I left because I was scared. And young. And stupid. And then I was ashamed. So ashamed I couldn’t even look at myself. So I blocked you. I shut you out. Because every time I thought of you, I remembered what I threw away.”

My throat burned.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known,” he said. “And you raised our daughter without me. You built a life, a home, a future- and I wasn’t there. I missed her first words. Her first steps. Her birthdays. I missed everything.”

Tears welled in his eyes.

“I don’t deserve to be her dad. I don’t deserve to even stand in this hallway. But I’m here. And if there’s even the smallest piece of you that believes I could be more than what I was-”

He stopped.

Swallowed hard.

“-then I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

The silence that followed felt like thunder.

And then I whispered, “You don’t get to walk back in and say the right thing and expect it to fix the past.”

“I know,” he said, hoarse.

“But…”

He looked up.

“But you said the right thing anyway.”

And then I stepped toward him.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t even breathe.

Until I reached for him.

And he broke.

His hands cupped my face like I was something fragile, like I was glass, like he wasn’t sure if I’d let him keep holding me.

And when he kissed me- this time- I didn’t slap him.

I kissed him back.

Hard. Messy. Real.

It wasn’t slow.

It wasn’t soft.

It was years of ache and regret and longing that had nowhere else to go.

His hoodie came off, tossed aside like it was nothing, and mine followed, sliding to the floor in a forgotten heap.

Hands found skin like they were remembering. His fingers traced the curve of my waist, the dip of my spine, like he was mapping me again, reclaiming territory he’d lost.

My back hit the hallway wall, the cold plaster a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressing against mine. He kissed down my neck, his breath hot and ragged, and whispered,

“I missed you so much. I missed this. I missed you.”

I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. We stumbled toward the bedroom, shedding layers like they were shackles, breathless and desperate.

The bed creaked beneath us as he lowered me onto it, his weight hovering above me, his eyes searching mine like he needed permission.

“This okay?” he asked, barely above a whisper, his voice raw with need and uncertainty. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest, but he needed more.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. His lips found mine again, hungry and demanding, but his hands were gentle, reverent, like he was worshipping me. He kissed his way down my body, pausing at my breasts, his tongue tracing the curve of my nipples, his lips murmuring praises against my skin.

“God, I missed these. So fucking beautiful.”

I arched into his touch, my breath hitching as his hands slid down my thighs, his fingers brushing the edge of my panties. He hooked them with a single finger, pulling them down slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Always were.”

He kissed his way back up, his lips brushing mine before trailing down my neck, his hands roaming over my body like he was memorizing every inch.

“I’ve thought about this every day,” he confessed, his breath hot against my ear. “Every. Fucking. Day.”

I reached for him, my hands tracing the lean muscles of his back, the ink of his tattoo sleeve, the piercings that glinted under the dim light. He was solid and real, and I couldn’t stop touching him, like I needed to prove he was here, that this was real.

He shifted above me, his eyes dark with need, and I felt him, hard and insistent against my thigh.

“I need you,” he growled, his voice rough, his hands gripping my hips. “Now.”

I nodded, my heart racing, my body aching for him. He didn’t waste another second. He entered me slowly, his eyes locked on mine, his breath catching as he filled me completely.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his forehead resting against mine. “You feel so good.”

He began to move, slow and deliberate, his hips rocking into mine, his hands gripping my thighs like he was anchoring himself to me.

“Look at me,” he commanded, his voice low and demanding, and I obeyed, my eyes meeting his, holding his gaze as he thrust deeper, harder.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine with each movement. “So perfect.”

His words sent shivers down my spine, his praise fueling the fire burning between us. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, meeting his thrusts with my own, our bodies moving in perfect sync.

“Jungkook,” I gasped, my nails digging into his back, my voice breaking as pleasure coiled tight in my core.

He growled, his pace quickening, his hands gripping my hips tighter, his control slipping. “Cum for me, baby. Let me feel it.”

His words were my undoing. My walls clenched around him, my body trembling as my orgasm crashed over me, waves of pleasure washing through me, my breath catching in a sharp cry. “Jungkook!”

He whispered into my neck, his lips brushing my skin, his voice hoarse and desperate. “I love you. I love you so much.”

His words were a balm, a salve to wounds I didn’t realize were still raw. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his back, my body still trembling as he followed me over the edge, his thrusts becoming frantic, his breath ragged against my skin.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he came, his body shuddering above me, his release a sharp, primal sound.

He collapsed onto me, his weight heavy but comforting, his breath hot against my neck. For a moment, we just lay there, our hearts pounding in unison, our bodies still joined, the silence thick with unspoken emotions.

He brushed my hair back and kissed my forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, voice trembling.

I didn’t answer.

But I didn’t ask him to leave either.

And that was enough.

For now.

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I woke up to the sound of his breathing.

Slow. Steady.

It filled the room like the soft hum of a song I hadn’t heard in years.

For a moment, I didn’t open my eyes.

I just listened.

Soaked in the weight of him next to me. The warmth of his arm draped around my waist. The rise and fall of his chest behind my back. His hand, large and gentle, resting against my ribs like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

The light was pale through the blinds. Morning had barely begun.

But the ache in my chest already knew it was time.

I turned over slowly.

He was already awake.

Watching me.

Not smiling. Not saying anything.

Just looking.

Like this was the first morning of his life that made sense.

I searched his face for hesitation.

There wasn’t any.

Just quiet awe.

And something softer than I knew what to do with.

“You didn’t sleep,” I whispered.

“Didn’t want to.”

I blinked. “Why not?”

He reached up and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.

“Didn’t want to miss this.”

My throat tightened.

I looked away.

“You’re leaving today.”

It wasn’t a question.

He nodded. “My flight’s in four hours.”

I swallowed.

“Will you tell her?”

He nodded again. “I want to. When you’re ready.”

“I don’t know when that’ll be.”

“I’ll wait.”

I looked back at him.

He meant it.

“I don’t know what this is,” I said softly.

“Me neither,” he replied. “But I want to find out.”

Silence stretched between us like thread.

“Can I see you before I go?” he asked.

“You’re seeing me now.”

He smiled. Just barely. “After I pack. Before the airport.”

I didn’t say yes.

But I didn’t say no.

He leaned in and kissed me once- just once- like he didn’t want to ask for more than I could give.

Then he pulled back, exhaled, and whispered:

“I’m so in love with you.”

I didn’t say it back.

But I didn’t need to.

Because he pressed his forehead to mine, closed his eyes, and stayed there for a long time.

And when he finally pulled away, when he slipped out of bed and gathered his things, I watched him with something heavy and quiet in my chest.

Not fear.

Not anger.

Something like hope.

And when Eun Ae woke an hour later and asked where Mr. Kookie was, I smiled, just a little, and said:

“He’s not gone. Not really.”

Because for the first time in years…

I believed it.

═══════

Post A/N: dont hate me 😭 there’s still so much to their story

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These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

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Posted: 06/24/2025

Taglist: @mar-lo-pap @lovingkoalaface @whoa-jo @kiliskywalker666 @sucker4jeon @annpeachy-blog @kaiparkerwifes @nikkinikj @elithenium @asyr97 @heyinwluv85s @jjkluver7 @bammbi-jeon127 @kookoo-kachoo @angelsdecalcomania @kayswatanabe @granataepfelchen @kelsyx33 @tatamicc @blubird592 @llallaaa @chromietriestowrite @k1ll1ngcl0wns @jahnaviii @mfsitscho @traumaanatomy @mellyyyyyyx @yu-justme @bangtaniess @xmiaacxio @emmie2308 @magicalnachocreator @suker4angst @dragonflygurl4 @taetaecatboy @somehowukook @iiamnotsure @lavender2ari @busanbby-jjk @prilnextdoor23 @ecomidnight @cuntessaiii @jungshaking @nbjch05 @baechugff @jakiki94 @songbyeonkim

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts ff #bts ffs #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook idol au #daddy kookie m

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jkwrites-m · 3 days ago

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Parking Ticket

Part 7 - Mall Rats

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: In the quiet of the parking garage, passion peaks - Jungkook and Y/N tangled in love, leaving the world outside forgotten.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, kissing, cursing, praise, oral (f. & m. receiving), public sex, car sex, unprotected sex,

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As we stepped out of the mall and into the dimly lit parking garage, the cool evening air brushed against my skin. A sharp, refreshing contrast to the heated passion Jungkook and I had just shared on the roof.

My legs still felt slightly unsteady, the memory of his touch and the way he looked at me lingering like static under my skin.

The garage was nearly deserted, a hollow echo chamber of silence and shadows, interrupted only by the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. Their pale flicker cast a sterile glow across the cracked concrete floor, stretching our silhouettes long and ghostlike as we walked.

Jungkook’s hand was still wrapped around mine, his grip firm, grounding, protective. His thumb occasionally brushed against mine, a subtle reminder that the moment hadn’t ended- it had just shifted. I leaned a little into him as we walked, a small smile playing on my lips, but he suddenly slowed, his body tensing beside me.

I followed his gaze.

A bright orange parking ticket clung to the windshield of his car, fluttering slightly in the breeze like it was mocking him. The bold, block letters stood out even in the dim light, a rude interruption to our otherwise perfect night.

“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered under his breath, his voice dark and edged with frustration.

He released my hand and strode forward, yanking the ticket off the glass with a swift motion. The sound of crumpling paper cut through the silence. His knuckles whitened as he clenched it in his fist, veins prominent under the smooth skin of his forearm. “This is bullshit. I was only over by thirty minutes.”

I could hear it in his voice- the irritation not just at the fine, but the way something so small had the nerve to pull him out of the magic we’d been wrapped in all night. His shoulders were rigid, brows drawn tight as he stared down at the crushed paper like it had personally insulted him.

I stepped in beside him again, reached for his hand, and laced our fingers together gently.

“It’s okay, babe,” I murmured, my voice low and soothing. “It’s not that much. We’ll take care of it later.”

He didn’t respond at first. Just exhaled hard through his nose, his jaw still locked tight. I turned toward him, tilting my head until our eyes met. The tension in his body was palpable but so was the heat that never really left us, simmering under the surface.

I let a slow smile form on my lips, my tone shifting to something softer… a little mischievous. “Besides,” I said, eyes not leaving his, “I can think of a way to make you feel better.”

That got his attention.

His brows pulled together slightly in curiosity, but I saw it. The twitch of amusement, of intrigue, tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, his voice quieter now, curiosity laced with heat. “And how’s that?”

I took a step closer, my chest brushing his as I leaned up to whisper against his ear, “Get in the car. I’ll show you.”

A beat passed between us. One charged second where the tension turned electric again. The kind that made your skin buzz and your heart skip a beat.

Then his grin returned, wide and boyish and hungry all at once.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

The car door slammed behind him with a satisfying thud as he slipped into the driver’s seat, and I circled around, sliding into the passenger side. My heart thumped hard in my chest, adrenaline rushing through me, a mix of nerves and desire winding tighter with every breath.

The inside of the car was dark, the only light spilling in from the distant parking garage lamps through the windshield. It cast faint shadows across Jungkook’s face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes.

He looked over at me, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other resting casually on his thigh, but I could feel the tension humming through him, mirroring my own.

I reached over, letting my hand settle on his, slowly sliding up his arm, my gaze locked to his. He didn’t speak.

He didn’t need to.

Whatever frustration he’d felt moments ago had already begun to fade, drowned out by anticipation, by heat, by the silent question hanging thick in the air between us.

And I was more than ready to answer it.

Before he could even start the engine, I leaned over the center console, my hands resting on his thighs. His eyes darkened as I unbuckled his belt, my fingers trembling slightly as I pulled down his zipper.

I pushed his pants down just enough to free his cock, already hardening at my touch. His skin was warm and smooth, his length thick and heavy in my hand. I looked up at him, my eyes locking with his, before I took him into my mouth.

Jungkook’s head fell back against the seat, a deep groan escaping his lips. “Fuck, baby. You’re gonna kill me.”

I hummed softly around him, my tongue tracing the veins along his shaft. His hands tangled in my hair, guiding me as I moved my mouth up and down, savoring the taste of him.

The car felt like a cocoon, the outside world fading away as I focused on the pleasure I could give him. His breath quickened, his body tensing as he fought for control.

“Stop,” he said abruptly, his voice rough. “Get in the backseat. Now.”

My heart skipped a beat at the command, but I didn’t hesitate. I climbed over the console, my skirt riding up as I squeezed into the backseat. Jungkook followed, his presence dominating the small space.

He pushed me back against the leather, his lips crashing down on mine in a hungry kiss. His hands roamed over my body, pulling my shirt up and unclasping my bra with practiced ease.

“Spread your legs for me,” he growled, his breath hot against my neck.

I did as he asked, my thighs parting as he settled between them. His fingers traced the lace of my panties before hooking them and pulling them down my legs. I kicked them off, my skin tingling with anticipation. He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh, his stubble scratching gently against my skin, before his mouth found its target.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned, my hands gripping the seat as he teased me with his tongue.

The position was awkward, the backseat cramped, but the discomfort only heightened the pleasure. His mouth was relentless, his tongue flicking and sucking, driving me closer to the edge. I could feel the tension building, my body arching off the seat as I chased my release.

“Jungkook,” I gasped, my voice trembling. “I’m close.”

He hummed against my skin, the vibration sending shivers through me.

“Not yet,” he murmured, pulling away. “I need to be inside you.”

Before I could protest, he was hovering over me, his cock pressing against my entrance. He entered me slowly, his eyes locked on mine, his expression tender despite the roughness of the moment.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

“I love you too,” I breathed, my hands reaching up to cradle his face.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one filling me completely. The backseat creaked beneath us, the car rocking gently with our movements. His lips brushed against mine, his kisses soft and loving, a stark contrast to the urgency of his hips.

“Faster,” I pleaded, my nails digging into his shoulders.

He obliged, his rhythm quickening as he pinned my wrists above my head. His body was a symphony of muscle and sweat, his tattoos glistening in the dim light.

“You feel so good, baby,” he groaned, his voice raw with need. “So fucking tight.”

I was lost in the sensation, my body spiraling toward the edge. “Jungkook,” I cried out, my voice echoing in the confined space. “I’m- ”

My words were cut off by a sharp cry as my orgasm ripped through me, my body convulsing around him. He followed moments later, my name on his lips as he buried himself deep, his release sending waves of pleasure through both of us.

For a moment, we lay there, breathless and entwined, the only sound the quiet rise and fall of our ragged breathing. The windows were fogged, the night outside a blur of soft streetlights and distant city hum.

Jungkook kissed me gently, his lips brushing mine with a tenderness that felt worlds away from the intensity we’d just shared. He lingered in the kiss like he didn’t want to let go, like he was still savoring every second.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered, his voice low, warm, and laced with affection.

I smiled, my heart full and heavy in the best possible way as I rested my head on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat beneath me- steady, strong, grounding.

“Yeah,” I murmured, eyes closing for just a second, soaking in the stillness. “Let’s go home.”

Slowly, we climbed back into the front seats, Jungkook’s hand brushing mine again as we settled in. The crumpled parking ticket still lay on the floorboard, forgotten and insignificant now. It didn’t matter. None of it did.

The mall, the car, the world outside- it all faded into the background.

What mattered was him. Us. The way his eyes softened when he looked at me. The way my name sounded different when he whispered it. The way he made me feel like every moment was something to be cherished, not just passed through.

As Jungkook started the engine, the dashboard lights flickering to life, I glanced over at him. His hand reached instinctively for mine across the center console, and I took it without hesitation.

In the quiet hum of the night, I knew, this was just another chapter in our story. One filled with love, desire, and the thrill of the unknown. And I couldn’t wait to keep writing it with him.

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These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

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Posted: 06/24/2025

#jkwrites m #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook ff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts ff #bts ffs #mall rats m

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jkwrites-m · 3 days ago

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i’m actually going to shit myself omg 😭😭😭🫶🫶🫶🫶 tysm for rec. tease 🫶🫶

literally being on the same list as some of the authors that i consistently read and am inspired by is making me cry 😭

jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 4

★ ridin || jjk - @letsbangts (when the car ride has you both wildin)

★ LOVE HIGH ! - @frmisnow (in which. being a lovesick loser, freshly engaged and high is a crazy combo...)

★ Self-Care Sunday | JJK - @shina913 (You arrive at your mani-pedi appointment to find out that your usual technician is unexpectedly out. Instead, the salon owner’s son offers to do your nails instead.)

★ oxygen | jjk - @gimmethatagustd (If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.)

★ starstruck (1) - @trivia-yandere (jungkook, a highly award-winning actor, has his eyes set on you, an upcoming actress, to be his love interest in his new movie.)

★ bridges we almost burned 𓇼 𓂂 ˚ ◌ - @kooffeecup (when you see your boyfriend giving ride to the new intern frequently because he thinks it’s convenient, something snaps inside you.)

★ ࣪ ִֶָ love wins all ࣪ ִֶָ . - @kooffeecup (You ended things with Miyeon to escape the web of his lies—but the truth was far heavier. Your heart had begun to crave something it shouldn’t: the quiet warmth of his father, Jungkook.)

★ 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 - @alexlwrites (The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.)

★ admiring from afar - @jeonsalibi (you owed a friend a favour, a favour which entailed a blind date. but the catch, it was only blind on your side.)

★ pink hearts & black clouds | jjk. masterlist - @eternalguk (Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of a brooding grunge. Moody, distant, and always a little too sarcastic. A grumpy, tattooed college student who barely tolerates anyone… except you. Somehow, the girl who’s a whirlwind of pink hearts and strawberry lipgloss is the one who keeps dear Jungkook on his toes.)

★ Manifest It - @luvismenu (yn and jungkook have a little “game” going on where they explore a bunch of different kinks that they’re mutually interested in)

★ dear stranger - @jeonstudios (lucky you, getting stuck in an elevator, your worst nightmare come to life. lucky you, getting stuck with a stranger.)

★ hotter than hell | jjk. (m) - @chateautae (jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.)

★ Making of a lover (Yandere CEO! Jeon Jungkook) - @smileyoongle

★ The Ex Text - @shadowkoo (The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.)

★ It’s not over - @jmstoesblog (Seems like the story with your ex was not over yet.)

★ ˚ · .˚ ༘ 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒔 - @nvrngl (it's the middle of the night and jungkook stumbles ( yet again ) through your window, wounded, sheepish, irresistably adorable.)

★ no longer strangers | jjk - @soft4gguk (jungkook x inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers, summer love au, jk’s a photography major <3)

★ Failed quickie - @vminizzle (coworker!jungkook x f.reader making out in public place (their workplace), marking, swearing, hair pulling, mention of tattooed jk)

★ FADE INTO YOU ☕️ jeon jungkook. - @nmjoo-n (“oh angel, for how fucking adorable you are, you sure don’t use that pretty little brain of yours much,” or jungkook has no limits when it comes to you. you’re his, he’s gonna get it through your head, eventually.)

★ Ruin the Dress... Shirt (M) | JJK - @fortunexkookie (What could possibly go wrong during a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner with your brand new boyfriend? Let’s be honest, you shouldn’t have even asked.)

★ Tease - @jkwrites-m (One night. One tight dress. One look that wrecked Jungkook’s entire fucking existence.)

★ ❝ after hours ❞ — jjk (m.) - @y2kooks (You always showed up right before sunset—hot, bothered, and craving your favorite drink. But one night, Jungkook locks the door early… And suddenly, you’re the only thing on his shelf worth tasting after hours.)

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jkwrites-m · 3 days ago

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How many parts do you think daddy kookie is gonna be?? I know you said you don’t have a final ending yet, but you think you can predict how many parts it’s going to be🥸

heyyyyyy

♡ so i’m at about 9 chapters now and i’m FINALLY rounding it back to my original outline 😭

♡ i’m going to say maybe around 12 chapters? But i’m also a liar so probably anywhere from 12-15 🫶

♡ i love binge reading so i 100% get waiting for a majority of the series to be out first! i try to stay consistent so there will be at least one chp out a week but if i’m bulk writing then probably two bc i hate looking at drafts

♡ okay done unhinging my jaw now 🫶🫶

#jkwrites m #jkwrites 💌

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jkwrites-m · 3 days ago

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yapping:

♡ so i’m surprisingly a very type a person and it is incredibly hard for me to look at unfinished work. It’s also hard for me to move from one thing to the next bc I tend to overlap 😅

♡ so tomorrow /today? (06/24/2025) i’m going to post Daddy Kookie (2) and the last of Mall Rats (i’m tired of seeing her in the drafts lol)

♡ so I have about 8 parts and i’m working on part 9. can i just say I strayed so far from my original outline that i’m trying to loop it back. What originally was a small series- spiraled.

♡ okay ty for reading and i hope yall like Daddy Kookie 😭 🫶

#jkwrites m #jkwrites 📝

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jkwrites-m · 3 days ago

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Begin Again

Bonus Chapter - Another Time

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, smut, fluff

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: In a life gifted by second chances, love becomes gentler, deeper, and destined to grow.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, fluff, emotional confessions/vows, pregnancy, soft, crying, healing, labor (not graphic), cursing, mentions of death, breastfeeding, wedding, explicit: kissing, cuddling, couch sex, missionary, soft doggy, oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple smut scenes, fingering, breast play, body worship, jk loves titties 😭

A/N: so someone asked for a bonus chapter (sequel??) and i wanted to make sure i hit everything 🫶

ANOTHER TIME ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

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y/n’s pov:

Five months felt like a lifetime.

And no time at all.

There was something surreal about planning a wedding with someone who already felt like my husband. I knew what it was like to lose him. I knew what it was like to grieve a future we were supposed to have.

So maybe that’s why I wasn’t the bride who lost her mind over calligraphy or napkin textures.

All I wanted was a quiet place, a soft dress, and him waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

Still… someone had to plan the damn thing.

“I swear if you don’t pick a venue this week, I’m gonna marry him myself,” Nayeon teased, flipping through Pinterest photos beside me on the couch.

“I already offered,” Taehyung called from the kitchen. “Jungkook turned me down. Tragic, really.”

“Let it go, Tae,” Jimin said flatly.

I laughed and leaned my head on Nayeon’s shoulder, sipping from my iced lavender tea. “I have a venue. It’s just… more of a place than a venue.”

Nayeon raised an eyebrow. “Okay, mysterious.”

“The cove,” I said softly. “Where he proposed. Where we went that day, before anything bad began.”

The room went still for a moment.

Then Nayeon smiled- not her usual cheeky grin, but something gentler. “That’s perfect.”

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Later that night, after everyone left and Jungkook was curled into my side in bed, I scrolled through dresses on my phone- not big, sparkly ones. Just soft shapes. Linen. Silk. Flowy silhouettes.

“Do you want to be surprised?” I asked, voice low in the dark.

“About what?” he murmured, half-asleep.

“What I’ll wear.”

“I already know you’ll be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled into his chest. “That’s not an answer.”

“Then yes. Surprise me,” he whispered, kissing my hair. “But I hope you wear bare feet. You’re always prettiest when you’re grounded.”

My heart thudded.

I nodded into his skin and whispered, “Okay.”

═══════

Three days later, I booked the permits for the beach. We’d marry there in mid October- when the sky turned amber early and the air was still warm enough to hold us.

I flew my parents and Riley in from home, just like I’d always dreamed- quiet arrival, tearful hugs, long overdue introductions. They loved Jungkook instantly. Of course they did. He made coffee for my dad and cried when my mom told him he was already family.

I didn’t need a huge wedding.

I had him.

And he was already everything.

═══════

The night before I went dress shopping alone, I couldn’t sleep.

I watched the moonlight trace the shape of his collarbone and thought: This man watched me die, screaming my name when he couldn’t move. And now he gets to watch me live.

How do you prepare vows for someone like that?

How do you pick a dress when you already feel like a bride just from lying next to him?

I didn’t know.

But I knew I didn’t want a crowd.

I wanted air and waves and salt in my hair. I wanted sand beneath my toes and my heart in his hands. I wanted something soft. Something that felt like the opposite of survival- something that felt like beginning.

So when I walked into the boutique the next day, I skipped the racks of satin and sparkle and went straight to the corner with the linen, the chiffon, the long trailing skirts that whispered more than they shouted.

It took thirty minutes.

I found it without even trying: a sleeveless ivory gown that gathered at my waist and fell in gentle ripples to the floor. No beading. No corset. Just the feeling of wind and water and warmth stitched into fabric.

I twirled once in front of the mirror.

And in my mind, I could already see him.

Smiling.

Waiting.

═══════

Later that night, Jungkook helped me hang twinkle lights across our little balcony. We were sitting on a blanket beneath them, sipping chilled wine, barefoot and tired, but happy.

I leaned against his shoulder, twirling the ring on my finger.

“Five months,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “Feels close and far at the same time.”

“You nervous?”

“Only about not crying like a baby when I see you walking toward me.”

“You cried when I bought soy milk last week.”

“It was organic. I got overwhelmed.”

I snorted and elbowed him gently.

He turned and kissed my temple.

“You’re really marrying me, huh?” he said, voice softer.

“I already did,” I replied. “In every version of us. This one’s just for keeps.”

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I’d rewritten the first line six times.

I stared at the page, ink smudged at the edge from where my palm kept dragging over it. The notebook sat open in front of me on the coffee table, untouched for almost twenty minutes. My pen rested against the back of my knuckles, unmoving. Useless.

I couldn’t find the words.

It wasn’t that I didn’t feel them.

It’s that I felt them too much.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Not just the woman in our house who wore my hoodie to bed and kissed me behind half-open refrigerator doors- I saw all of her.

I saw the version of her that fell asleep beside me in a backyard under the stars when we were kids.

I saw the one who said my name while bleeding out onto the floor.

I saw the one who didn’t recognize me when I begged her to remember.

And I saw her now.

Softer. Whole. Full of light again.

How do you put that into vows?

How do you write a promise when you’ve already broken it once- not by choice, but by fate?

I scribbled down a sentence and scratched it out before the ink dried.

Then I put my head in my hands and exhaled hard through my nose.

I didn’t cry.

Not yet.

═══════

The apartment was quiet. Y/N had gone out with Nayeon for a final wedding errand- something about ankle bracelets and sea glass placeholders and I’d stayed home, pretending I was going to be productive.

Instead, I was just sitting here.

Surrounded by silence.

And trying not to fall apart.

I walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and stared out the window for a few minutes.

How many times had I imagined this day?

Too many.

But I never imagined the part where I had to condense lifetimes into a speech. To find a way to say, “I’ve loved you in every version of this story, and this is the one I want to keep.”

I leaned on the counter and said it aloud, just to try it out.

It echoed strangely. Almost too quiet.

Eventually, I sat down again.

Turned the page.

Took a breath.

And started writing from the place that hurt.

“I thought love was something you waited for, but you taught me it’s something you fight for.”

Then the next.

“I’ve met you more times than I can count. I’ve held you, lost you, chased you, and almost given up on you. But in every version of time, every cracked mirror of the life we never got to finish- I still loved you.”

The pen moved faster now.

“You didn’t remember me when we began again. But I remembered you. And I loved you enough to find you anyway.”

I could feel it- that pull behind my eyes. The one that always came before tears.

But I didn’t stop.

“I won’t ask you to promise forever, because we’ve already had too many to count. But I’ll promise you this: I will love you in this life- in the boring hours, in the loud fights, in the quiet mornings. I will love you when your hair turns silver and your hands are lined with time. I will love you when we forget what day it is. I will love you when we remember.”

I stared at the last line for a long time.

And then I whispered into the quiet:

“I never got to say it when you died.”

A beat.

“But I’ll say it now and every day after.”

I closed the notebook and sat in the silence.

Heart full. Hands trembling.

Finally ready.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

The sky opened soft for us that day.

There were no clouds. No gusts of wind to tangle my hair or pull at the veil I decided not to wear. Just the kind of golden light that made everything look like it had been kissed by memory.

I stood barefoot in the sand, holding my dress in one hand so it wouldn’t drag in the tide. My heart beat in my throat- steady, certain, not from nerves… but from wonder.

This is happening.

The man who once felt like a dream was waiting just beyond the driftwood arch we built ourselves. He was laughing quietly with Taehyung, who was fixing his tie, while Nayeon flitted around me, making sure my curls weren’t falling too flat and that my bouquet of dried wildflowers was still in one piece.

My mom sniffled into a tissue from a few feet away. My dad had cried the second I stepped out of the car.

But I didn’t feel overwhelmed.

I felt ready.

Like every moment before this had been training for this one.

And now the world was holding its breath with me.

═══════

The walk down the “aisle” - really just a worn path of smoothed stones and flower petals- felt slow in the best way. Time didn’t speed up. No music rushed me along.

I walked.

And Jungkook waited.

He stood at the edge of the ocean, barefoot too, hair a little messy, wearing a light tan suit with the sleeves rolled up and his heart written all over his face.

When our eyes met, I felt the air shift.

Like even the sea had remembered us.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered when I reached him.

“You look like a dream,” I whispered back.

We both laughed softly, holding hands as the sun dipped just enough to set the water glowing.

The ceremony was short.

Taehyung officiated, because of course he did. He made jokes that had us both smiling through tears and then gave us the quiet space to say the things that mattered.

Jungkook’s hands were shaking as he pulled the paper from his pocket.

He looked at me- then folded it shut.

“I don’t need this,” he said, voice thick. “I just need to look at you.”

I cried before he even started.

His voice broke more than once, but his words were whole. Every vow, every promise, carried the weight of everything we’d survived. He promised to love me in this life, not just the ones we lost. He promised to stay. To laugh. To listen. To be mine.

I wanted to kiss him before it was even my turn.

And when it was my turn, I spoke every word clearly:

“You were in my dreams before I ever knew your name. In shadows of memories that didn’t belong to this life. In feelings I couldn’t explain- until you said my name like you’d already said it a thousand times.

And you had.

We’ve lived so many lives, Jungkook. We’ve loved through so much pain. And even when I didn’t remember… I still felt you. Even when I screamed at you to leave… my heart was begging you to stay.

You are not my beginning.

You are not my end.

You are my constant.

In every version of me, I love you. And in this one, the one where I get to wake up beside you, where we don’t die before the happy part, I vow to keep choosing you. Every day. Every version.

I vow to fight for us even when it’s not romantic. To laugh with you when life gets heavy. To remind you who you are when you forget. And to hold your hand through every ordinary miracle we’re lucky enough to live.

Jungkook, you were worth every lifetime it took to find you.

And I promise- in this life, I’m not going anywhere.”

When they said “You may now kiss the bride,” we didn’t hesitate.

The kiss wasn’t perfect.

It was messy and salty and full of tears.

But it was real.

And it was ours.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I used to think peace was a destination.

Something you found after running long enough. Surviving enough.

But lying here in this sun-drenched bed beside her- sand still in my hair, the faint scent of coconut oil on her skin- I realized it was never about getting to something.

It was about getting back to her.

She was peace.

Y/N’s back rose and fell with each slow breath, her arm draped across my stomach. Her cheek pressed against my chest like it was home. The light curtain in the little villa we rented fluttered in the wind, casting moving shadows across the room.

We hadn’t spoken much since last night.

We didn’t have to.

After the wedding, after the laughter, after the tear-streaked toasts and barefoot dancing in the sand, we slipped away. Into this quiet.

A private cove just outside the island village. No tourists. No noise. Just water, wind, and each other.

And the occasional gecko that stared at me from the ceiling.

But even he was chill.

I turned my head to look at her.

Y/N was still half-asleep, her lips parted just slightly, hair tangled across her cheek. My thumb brushed over her knuckles, and she stirred, murmuring something soft I couldn’t make out.

“I didn’t know I could be this happy,” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to myself or her or the stars.

Because it was true.

There was a time when happiness felt like a dangerous thing to want. Like every time I reached for it, the world would slap it out of my hands.

But not now.

Now I was married to the girl who used to visit my dreams when I was too young to understand why my heart hurt.

And she was real.

So was the gold band on my finger.

So was this bed.

So was this life.

═══════

Later that morning, we sat on the edge of a private dock that reached into the shallows. Our legs dangled in the water, toes occasionally brushing, and we passed a piece of pineapple back and forth like it was treasure.

Y/N was in a white bikini and sunglasses that slid down her nose. She had a towel wrapped around her waist and sea spray tangled in her hair.

“I still don’t believe yesterday was real,” she said, biting into the fruit. “Did we actually do that?”

“We did,” I said, grinning. “You cried first, by the way.”

“Barely.”

“Three minutes into my vows.”

“That’s because you started with ‘I thought love was something you waited for, but you taught me it’s something you fight for.’ What am I, made of stone?”

I laughed. “I just call it like I see it.”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, slow and soft.

And even though we’d kissed a thousand times by now, this one still burned sweet.

We spent the afternoon under a palm tree.

No phones. No plans.

She read from a dog-eared novel. I wrote little phrases in a journal I kept secret- future lyrics, letters, things I didn’t know how to say out loud yet.

She dozed off beside me, head on my shoulder.

And I… just watched her.

There was a moment, sometime between sunset and dinner, when I looked at her over a candlelit table and something clicked.

A feeling I hadn’t expected yet.

She was laughing about something dumb (probably the way I almost tripped over a crab) and I looked at her, and this thought echoed through me like a heartbeat:

I want to have a family with her.

Not just a wedding.

Not just a home.

A future.

Tiny hands. Little socks on a laundry line. A child with her smile and my wild heart.

It wasn’t something we’d talked about yet.

But I knew, in that second, that it lived in me now. That quiet wanting.

Not from pressure.

Not from fear.

But from love.

So much love it had to grow somewhere.

That night, she curled into me under the thin sheets and whispered, “This is my favorite version of us.”

I kissed her forehead.

And smiled in the dark.

Because mine was still coming.

═══════

Peace has a sound.

I didn’t know that until now.

It sounds like her slow, sleepy breathing against my chest. The rhythm of the tide outside our villa. The crinkle of linen sheets when she shifts slightly in her sleep.

It sounds like home.

The air in the room is warm. Not hot- just sun-soaked and still. Her leg is tangled over mine, bare skin brushing bare skin, and I trace slow circles on her back while the ceiling fan spins above us.

This wasn’t a fairytale.

This was real. Intimate. Quiet. The beginning of forever.

I kiss her shoulder gently, and she stirs with a soft hum.

“You’re awake?” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

Her words pull me from the trance I’ve been in, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. I’ve been lying here for what feels like hours, just studying her, memorizing the way the morning light spills across her skin.

“Mmhmm,” I nod against her skin, “watching you breathe.”

She laughs quietly, blinking slowly up at me. “Creep.”

“Handsome creep,” I correct, rolling her gently onto her back.

Her hair spills across the pillow, a cascade against the white sheets. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer, and I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. It’s steady, calm, like she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

“You’re definitely winning Husband of the Year.” she teases, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.

I dip my head and kiss her collarbone. “Starting strong.”

The kiss turns into two. Then three. Then lower.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, and her breath catches when I take my time. I let my lips graze the swell of her breast, the curve of her ribs, the soft dip of her stomach.

I’m slow. Intentional.

We have all night. All week. All our lives.

But I want this one. This moment.

Right now.

I glance up at her, and her eyes are already on me- wide, glassy, trusting.

“I love you,” I whisper, voice catching in my throat.

She brushes a thumb across my cheek. “Then show me.”

Her skin is soft beneath my palms, familiar yet sacred. Every touch feels like a prayer, every kiss a promise. I move between her legs deliberately slow, like I’ve waited lifetimes for this- because I have.

Her breath hitches as I press my lips to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, my hands resting gently on her hips. I can feel her trembling, just slightly, and it sends a jolt of desire straight through me.

I take my time, letting my lips graze her, my tongue tease her, my breath ghost across her most intimate places. She tastes like heaven, like home, like everything I’ve ever wanted.

I’m living for this, for the way her body arches off the bed, for the way her fingers dig into my shoulders, for the way her voice breaks when she moans my name.

"Jungkook… please…" she pants, her legs falling open wider, inviting me in.

I don’t rush. I savor. I worship. My tongue circles, flicks, plunges, every movement deliberate, every sensation amplified. Her body tightens beneath me, her muscles coiling like a spring, and then she shatters. Her cry is soft, broken, beautiful, and I drink it in, holding her through the waves of her release.

When she finally goes limp, I kiss my way back up her body, my heart pounding in my chest. Her eyes are closed, her chest heaving, and I can’t help but smile.

"You’re perfect," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her lips.

She opens her eyes, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "No, you."

I laugh, my hands roaming over her body, mapping every curve, every dip. I line myself up between her legs, my throbbing cock pressing against her entrance. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, and I slide into her slowly, savoring the way she feels around me- tight, warm, perfect.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice hoarse as I begin to move.

Each thrust is slow, deliberate, like we have all the time in the world. Her walls clench around me, and I can feel her breath quicken, her nails digging into my back.

"I love you too," she pants, her head falling back as I hit a spot deep inside her.

I flip her onto her stomach, her body flush against the bed. She moans as I enter her again, the angle deeper, more intense.

I wrap an arm around her waist, holding her close as I thrust into her, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The sound of our skin slapping together fills the room, a rhythm that’s both primal and tender.

"Jungkook…" she whimpers, her voice breaking as her body begins to tighten around me again.

"Cum with me," I groan, my voice thick with need. "Let go, baby."

Her walls clench, her body trembling as she cries out, her release sending me over the edge. I follow her, my orgasm crashing into me like a wave, my name on her lips as we cum together.

We don’t move.

Our skin is still damp with sweat, hearts pounding in rhythm. I lay half on top of her, my face buried in her neck, her fingers trailing slowly through my hair.

When I finally shift to lie beside her again, she curls into my chest, wrapping her leg around mine.

“I’ve never felt like that before,” she murmurs.

“I don’t think I ever will again,” I say.

She hums. “Then we’ll just keep getting close.”

I smile into her hair.

And say the truth I’ve been carrying since the wedding.

“I want to have a family with you.”

She stiffens slightly- not from fear, but surprise.

I pull back to look at her. “Not now. Not even soon. I just… I want that. With you. One day.”

Her eyes fill slowly, her fingers still resting over my heart.

“I do too,” she whispers. “I want our love to grow into something new.”

I pull her back into my arms and hold her tighter.

Because that’s exactly what we are.

Something ancient, blooming into something brand new.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

Three days after coming home from our honeymoon, I finally unpacked the last suitcase and declared the war against laundry a draw.

The house was quiet, sun filtering through the sheer curtains, and the smell of ocean salt had faded from our skin. Replaced now with detergent and candle wax and whatever fresh start smelled like.

I had just curled up on the couch with my throw blanket and a cup of tea when I heard the front door open.

“Babe?” Jungkook’s voice called.

“In here,” I replied, not moving.

Then came the sound.

Scratching.

Scuffling.

Snorting?

My brow furrowed. “Are you okay- ”

And then he walked into the living room.

With a puppy.

A Doberman puppy.

I blinked.

The dog blinked.

It sneezed.

“Is that…?” I asked slowly, lowering my mug.

He grinned. That sheepish, boyish, I-know-I’m-cute grin that made it hard to stay mad at him for more than thirty seconds.

“Sooo,” he said, scooping the puppy into his arms, “this is Bam.”

I stared.

Bam wagged its little tail and licked Jungkook’s chin.

“You got a dog,” I said.

“I rescued a dog.”

“You didn’t ask me to rescue a dog.”

“I meant to. But then I saw his face. Look at his little eyebrows- look at them! He looks worried. Like a tiny accountant.”

I stared at the puppy.

He did look concerned. And weirdly loyal.

And his ears were floppy. And he had giant paws. And a shiny little nose.

God damn it.

I tried to stay annoyed.

“You brought a Doberman into our house like it was a plant,” I said.

“I brought a family member into our house,” he countered.

“Do you even know how to train one?”

“I watched three YouTube videos and bought him a tiny bed. I’m basically a certified dog dad.”

I sighed and stood up, hands on my hips.

Bam wiggled in his arms and whined softly, then turned to stare at me like I was the one being difficult.

me hold him,” I said, resigned.

Jungkook beamed and gently handed him over.

The puppy nestled into my chest like he’d been born to do it.

I closed my eyes. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I hate that you’re right.”

He wrapped his arms around both of us from behind, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You love him too.”

I looked down at the dopey little dog in my arms.

“Welcome home, Bam,” I whispered.

═══════

I blamed it on the sushi.

Three days of nausea? Probably bad salmon.

Then I blamed it on my work schedule.

Exhaustion? I’d been pulling late nights editing a campaign.

Then, for about forty-eight hours, I convinced myself I had a stomach flu, despite having zero other symptoms and being perfectly fine as long as I didn’t look directly at scrambled eggs.

It wasn’t until I was brushing my teeth one morning and snapped at Jungkook for breathing too loudly that I paused mid-rinse, stared at myself in the mirror, and said:

“Oh, shit.”

I was late.

Not like “a couple hours” late.

Like “a week and some change” late.

At first, I didn’t panic.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub, phone in hand, Googling a mix of unhinged and hopeful phrases:

“how late is too late to not be late”

“pregnancy vs food poisoning signs”

“can stress delay period for 15 days”

I glanced at the drawer under the sink.

We’d joked about this before.

But suddenly it didn’t feel funny.

It felt real.

I didn’t tell Jungkook right away.

Not because I didn’t want to. But because I needed a second to process the fact that my body - the one that had died, reset, remembered, forgotten - might now be creating life.

It was… overwhelming.

But also quietly beautiful.

Like maybe the universe wasn’t done with our story yet.

═══════

I took the test on a random Tuesday.

Bam watched me from the hallway like a worried toddler. He whined once when I walked into the bathroom and whimpered again when I shut the door.

“You’re so dramatic,” I whispered to him.

Inside, I opened the box. Peeing on a stick wasn’t glamorous, but neither was being bent over a toilet at 6am praying for death, so whatever.

Three minutes.

I stared at the counter.

Three minutes felt longer than all our past lives combined.

When the timer went off, I turned the test over slowly.

And there it was.

Two lines.

Clear. Pink. Real.

I blinked. Laughed. Cried.

Then opened the door and sank to the floor while Bam licked my face and Jungkook called from the other room, “Everything okay in there?”

I sniffled. “Yeah.”

Totally fine.

Absolutely.

Completely.

Pregnant.

═══════

I didn’t tell him right away.

I waited until later that night, after dinner. He was standing at the sink, washing dishes with his sleeves rolled up, humming something low and rhythmic - probably one of the songs he was writing when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Bam laid at his feet like a knight guarding his king.

I stood in the doorway, holding the test behind my back, heart hammering like it hadn’t since the day I remembered him.

“Jungkook,” I said softly.

He glanced over his shoulder, smile ready. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need to tell you something.”

He paused. Wiped his hands on a towel and turned to face me fully.

“You’re not dying, are you?” he said quickly, half-joking, half-serious- like a man who’s lived enough lives to ask.

“No,” I said, breath shaking. “But I think… we’re beginning something.”

His eyes narrowed, confused.

So I stepped forward and handed him the test.

He looked at it.

Then looked at me.

Then back at it.

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

I watched the color drain from his face and then come flooding back in like a sunrise.

“You’re…” he whispered.

I nodded, biting my bottom lip.

He looked at the test again like maybe it would change.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” I said, laughing and crying all at once.

He stepped toward me slowly, cautiously, like I might shatter if he moved too fast.

Then he wrapped me in the gentlest hug he’d ever given me. Both hands sliding across my back, lips pressed to the top of my head, heartbeat pounding against my cheek.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, like he was still trying to convince himself it was real.

I nodded into his chest. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

His arms tightened.

And then he sank- all the way to the kitchen floor, dragging me with him into his lap, his face buried in my neck.

I felt his shoulders shaking.

Tears.

So I just held him, stroking the back of his head, our bodies curled up in the warmth of the moment.

After a long pause, he pulled back just enough to look at me.

“You’re really okay?”

“I’m okay,” I promised. “I think I’m still processing. But it feels… right.”

He smiled, eyes glassy.

Then, through a thick whisper: “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

He kissed me.

And I swear I felt the baby flutter even then- not physically, not really- but something inside me shifted.

Like they already knew their dad loved them.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I’d heard music all my life.

Rhythms, melodies, the hum of sound stitched into memory. I’d fallen asleep to her laugh, woken up to the hush of waves, written whole songs inspired by the way her voice cracked when she cried.

But nothing - nothing - prepared me for the sound of our baby’s heartbeat.

It came like thunder in a forest. Fast, fluttery, fierce.

I didn’t expect that.

I didn’t expect them to sound so alive.

Y/N laid on the table beside me, her shirt rolled up, hand in mine. She was nervous, I could feel it in the way her thumb rubbed small circles against my palm but she smiled through it. Always trying to keep me steady.

lower belly, pressing gently. Then-

whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh

I forgot how to breathe.

“Is that- ” I asked, eyes wide, voice cracking.

The tech smiled. “That’s your baby.”

Tears flooded my eyes instantly. I didn’t even try to stop them.

Because that sound?

That was ours.

That was life.

═══════

We walked out of the clinic in silence, fingers laced.

Y/N squeezed my hand when we reached the car. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said.

She knew I was lying.

I kissed her forehead before helping her into the passenger seat, and we rode home without much conversation. The hum of the engine filled in the quiet between us, but she never let go of my hand.

When we got back, I walked her inside, helped her out of her shoes, and made sure she was comfortable on the couch. Bam curled up immediately beside her, like he could sense she needed something to anchor her.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, brushing hair from her face.

She looked up at me- no questions, just trust. She nodded softly, resting her hand over her belly.

She always knew when to let me breathe.

═══════

I sat in the car alone for a few minutes after.

Hands on the steering wheel.

The silence after that heartbeat felt… loud.

And my heart was racing again but not in the good way.

I’d promised myself this life would be different. That this time, I’d get to keep everything. That the tragedy was behind us.

But fear doesn’t listen to vows.

Fear has its own heartbeat.

And mine was pounding.

═══════

I pulled into a small park and called Taehyung.

He answered on the second ring.

“What’s up, bro?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not really. Why? You sound… weird.”

“I just…” I swallowed hard. “Can I come by?”

═══════

We sat on Taehyung’s back porch with two beers neither of us touched.

I stared at my hands.

“She’s twelve weeks,” I said. “We heard the heartbeat today.”

Taehyung smiled. “That’s incredible.”

“It is,” I said. “It’s… everything.”

A beat.

“But?”

“I’m scared, man.”

He looked at me carefully. “Of what?”

“Of losing it.”

My voice cracked.

I kept going anyway.

“Of getting too comfortable. Of thinking this life is ours and waking up in another one. Of making promises I can’t keep.”

Taehyung didn’t speak right away.

Then he leaned forward and said, “You’re not in that timeline anymore.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I looked at him.

He softened. “Look, I’ve seen you crawl through hell to find her. I watched you fall apart when she didn’t remember. I saw the way you didn’t stop even when it felt impossible.”

He paused.

“So yeah, maybe the fear never fully goes away. But you? You’re not the man who lost everything anymore. You’re the man who built everything back.”

I swallowed hard.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Jungkook.”

I nodded slowly, eyes burning.

“And,” he added, “you’re gonna be a great dad.”

═══════

That night, I came home to find Y/N on the couch, one hand cradling her small, growing bump, the other petting Bam, who’d refused to leave her side all evening.

She looked up and smiled.

“You okay now?”

I crossed the room and knelt in front of her.

Placed both hands on her belly.

And kissed it gently.

“I heard our baby today,” I whispered.

She ran her fingers through my hair.

“I know.”

I looked up at her.

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “But I’m more in love than I’ve ever been.”

“I know that too.”

And then, with everything I had in me, I whispered:

“I’ll protect you both. Always.”

═══════

y/n’s pov:

It started with paint swatches.

Then Pinterest boards. Then mood lighting. Then something Jungkook called “highly dangerous nesting mode” when I dragged him to a vintage furniture market at seven in the morning.

But it was never really about the crib or the color of the walls.

It was about making space for someone we hadn’t met yet, someone who was already turning our world into something quieter, softer, deeper.

The nursery had once been our spare room, home to Bam’s ridiculous collection of toys and random boxes we still hadn’t unpacked since moving in.

Now it was becoming the room.

The place we’d rock them to sleep.

Read them bedtime stories.

Whisper to them: you’re safe here.

═══════

I sat in the middle of the room one afternoon, belly huge, surrounded by folded onesies and little socks the size of my thumb, holding a pen above a blank page.

I wasn’t writing a list.

I was writing a letter.

I don’t know why. I just… needed to talk to them. Even if they couldn’t hear me yet.

Dear Baby, You don’t have a name yet. Not officially. But in my dreams, you’re already real. In my body, you already exist. In your father’s eyes, you are already loved. You are the first thing we’ve created together. The first piece of our story that belongs only to this life. You were born from lifetimes of love, from dreams and storms and soul-bonded memories. From tears, and healing, and holding on when everything said let go. We don’t know who you’ll be yet. But we know one thing: You are already ours. And we’ve waited forever to meet you. Love, Mom

A knock at the door pulled me from the letter.

Nayeon walked in, holding iced lavender tea and a bag of bakery cookies.

“You’re crying and writing again?” she teased, already setting everything down and plopping onto the rug beside me.

“Every time I fold baby socks, I get overwhelmed,” I admitted.

She grabbed a pair, holding them in the air. “I mean, this is criminally cute.”

I smiled, grateful.

She leaned her head on my shoulder.

“You scared?”

I nodded. “More than I thought I’d be.”

“It’s okay to be,” she said quietly. “Doesn’t mean you’re not ready.”

“I know.” I looked at her. “How do I… keep who I am, once I become someone’s mom?”

She looked at me for a long time.

Then said: “You don’t lose who you are. You expand it.”

I didn’t realize how much I needed that.

We sat together, sipping tea, surrounded by baby things and love and light.

And I knew this room wasn’t just a nursery.

It was the heart of our home, waiting to beat.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

The storm rolled in around 2AM.

It started slow- a low rumble in the sky, a flicker of light in the distance. I thought it was just spring being dramatic. I didn’t even sit up in bed.

But then Y/N’s hand clutched mine under the covers, tight and trembling.

I turned toward her, bleary-eyed.

“You okay?” I whispered.

She didn’t say anything right away.

Then, very softly: “I think it’s time.”

I sat up so fast I nearly flipped off the mattress. “Time time?”

She nodded, wincing through another wave of pressure.

Lightning flashed outside the window.

Bam barked once and then went completely still.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay. We’re good. We trained for this. You’re good. We’re good.”

“I think my water broke.”

I looked down at the sheets.

Confirmed.

“Cool, cool, cool,” I said, way too fast. “I’m not panicking.”

“You’re panicking.”

“I’m calm-panicking.”

She laughed, even through the pain.

God, I loved her.

═══════

We got to the hospital just as the sky opened up.

Rain hammered the windows, thunder cracked through the clouds. Nurses moved around us like clockwork while I held Y/N’s hand through every contraction.

She was so strong. Fierce. Glowing even in pain.

And I was useless.

“I fucking hate you for doing this to me,” she hissed at one point.

“You’re doing amazing, baby,” I whispered, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“If you say one more fucking motivational Pinterest quote, I’ll kill you.”

“Fair.”

We’d waited our whole lives for this.

And suddenly, it was now.

═══════

Ten hours.

That’s how long it took before I heard the cry.

Ten hours of pacing, squeezing her hand, watching the monitors, whispering, begging, loving her through every second.

And then-

A sound that shattered everything and rebuilt it in the same breath.

Our daughter.

Our child.

Tiny. Wailing. Alive.

They placed her in Y/N’s arms, and I swear the storm outside stopped just to listen.

Y/N sobbed as she kissed the baby’s forehead.

I didn’t realize I was crying too until I tasted salt.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to her temple.

“You did it,” I whispered. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

“She’s so little,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“She’s perfect.”

And when they finally placed her in my arms…

When I looked down at that tiny face with her mama’s nose and a tuft of black hair…

All I could say, through the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest, was:

“Hi, angel. We’ve been waiting so long for you.”

═══════

y/n’s pov:

The house was quiet.

Not silent, not anymore. But quiet in the way that meant peace.

A lullaby played softly through the baby monitor. The faint hum of the washing machine droned in the distance. Rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, as if trying not to wake the sleeping miracle in the next room.

I stood in the doorway of the nursery, one hand resting against the frame, the other cradling a cup of tea gone cold.

She’d just fallen asleep.

And Jungkook had, too.

They were curled up together in the armchair — his arms around her tiny swaddled body, her cheek against his chest like she knew him already.

And maybe she did.

Maybe some part of her had waited through the same lifetimes we did, just to find her way here.

She’d just fallen asleep.

And Jungkook had, too.

They were curled up together in the armchair- his arms around her tiny swaddled body, her cheek against his chest like she knew him already.

And maybe she did.

Maybe some part of her had waited through the same lifetimes we did, just to find her way here.

I didn’t walk in right away.

I just watched them.

Jungkook’s head was tilted back, mouth slightly open, face softened by sleep. The baby’s hand peeked out of her wrap, fingers barely curled, resting against the curve of his arm like she’d chosen him.

And of course she had.

Because he was made for this.

For love.

For peace.

For us.

═══════

I sat down gently on the rug in front of them and let myself feel everything.

The weight of what we’d survived.

The lives we’d lost.

The memories we weren’t meant to carry, and the ones we fought to keep.

I touched my belly out of instinct, still adjusting to the space where she used to be.

Still adjusting to the now.

I looked at them again- my husband, my daughter.

And I realized something I’d never put into words before:

Love didn’t save us.

We saved each other.

By remembering.

By staying.

By showing up every day, even when we didn’t know if the world would let us keep what we had.

We weren’t perfect.

But we were home.

═══════

When Jungkook stirred, his eyes opened slow.

He blinked at me, then looked down at the baby.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” I whispered back.

He looked around the room, still groggy, then met my gaze again. “Did I miss anything?”

I shook my head. “You were exactly where you were supposed to be.”

He kissed her forehead.

Then looked at me and said, “So were you.”

I leaned my head against the chair, heart full.

And I thought about what it means to live after the storm.

Not just to survive it. But to build something out of the wreckage. To take all the versions of yourself and love the one that remains.

Because this was it.

This was the life the universe gave us when we finally stopped running.

This was the answer to every lost dream, every second chance, every quiet prayer.

This was our beginning.

═══════

Mi-rae’s giggle could part the sea.

That kind of laughter- it didn’t just ring in your ears. It echoed in your chest, curled up in your ribs like it planned to stay.

She was running. Well, trying to. Legs still wobbly in the sand, her tiny sunhat lopsided, cheeks pink with heat. She flung her arms like wings, chasing nothing and everything while Jungkook trailed after her like a lovesick bodyguard.

“She’s just like you,” I called from the picnic blanket.

“Beautiful?” he yelled back.

“Chaotic!”

He spun her around in his arms, both of them laughing now, and she let out a shriek that made Bam bark twice before collapsing into the sand beside me, tail thumping.

Our daughter.

Our dog.

Our life.

On this beach- the cove where he proposed, where we promised forever barefoot in the sun.

Now we were back.

Only this time, there were three of us.

We spent the morning doing nothing in particular.

Mi-rae crawled through piles of damp sand with a pink shovel she kept chewing on, while Jungkook built a very serious moat around what might’ve been a castle. I sat cross-legged with a peach and a journal in my lap, watching the two of them exist like they’d always known each other.

“She’s not even one and already you’re building fortresses for her,” I teased.

Jungkook looked up, grinning. “She deserves a kingdom.”

I smiled, heart full.

He really meant it.

═══════

The sun climbed higher, and after laying out lunch beneath the driftwood arch where we once exchanged vows, I pulled Mi-rae into my lap for her mid-day feeding. She nestled against my chest instantly, warm and soft and so completely ours.

It was always quiet when she nursed.

Even the ocean seemed to hush.

Jungkook laid beside us, propped on one elbow, sipping water- until he wasn’t sipping anymore.

He was staring.

“Don’t,” I said, knowing that look.

“What?”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m in awe,” he murmured.

“You’re ogling my boobs.”

“I’m worshipping,” he corrected.

I gave him a flat look.

He leaned closer, voice low. “They’re just… you know. Out. Glowing. Feeding the next generation. Heroic.”

“Heroic,” I echoed, laughing quietly.

“And kind of- ” his eyes dipped, “hot.”

“Jungkook.”

“I mean, what do you expect me to do when my wife whips out the most beautiful pair of tits I’ve ever seen and uses them to sustain life like it’s casual?”

I blinked. “The most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m serious,” he said, brushing a hand down my thigh. “You’re everything.”

When Mi-rae finished and tucked into my side, I adjusted my top. Jungkook watched every movement like he was starving.

“You’re drooling.”

“Only a little.”

═══════

The rest of the day blurred into color- pink skies, orange light, salt-stung kisses. We dipped Mi-rae’s toes in the water, let her fall asleep against Jungkook’s chest while we laid under an umbrella watching the tide.

“This was the best idea,” I murmured.

“She deserves to see where it all began.”

“Us?”

He nodded, pressing his nose into my hair. “The moment that changed everything.”

I reached for his hand and laced our fingers.

“You’ve changed me,” I said. “Every version of me is better because you existed in it.”

He looked over, and I saw it in his eyes. That softness that meant he was thinking not just about now, but about then. About everything we’d been. Everything we almost lost.

“I want you again,” he whispered.

“You have me.”

“I mean when we get home. After we put her to bed.”

His fingers drifted under the hem of my sundress.

“I want to remind you.”

“Remind me of what?”

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

“That you’re mine. That you still ruin me.”

My breath hitched. My thighs pressed together.

Mi-rae snorted in her sleep.

I laughed.

He smirked.

═══════

When we packed up the beach blanket and I carried our daughter back to the car, she stirred in my arms, eyelids fluttering, her hand curling around the necklace Jungkook gave me on our first anniversary.

It still had sand in the clasp.

Still smelled faintly of salt and memory.

I looked down at her, tucked against my chest.

And whispered, “You’re the best thing we’ve ever done.”

═══════

Mi-rae barely stirred when I laid her in her crib.

She sighed- one of those sleepy, content baby sounds and curled instinctively toward the warmth of the blanket. Her tiny fist held the corner of her favorite muslin cloth, and for a second I just stood there, watching.

She was perfect.

We didn’t need a lullaby. We didn’t need anything but this quiet room, this soft glow of motherhood.

I kissed her forehead, tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, and whispered, “Goodnight, my girl.”

Then I left the door cracked, just the way she liked it.

═══════

The house was dim and still.

Bam was already asleep at the edge of the hallway, one paw tucked under his chin. The beach bag sat in the laundry room waiting to be unpacked. I knew I should’ve started a load of towels.

But I also knew what - who - was waiting for me.

When I turned the corner into the living room, I found him exactly where I knew he’d be.

Sprawled shirtless across the couch. Sweatpants. No shirt. Hair tousled. Eyes hooded.

And the look?

Hungry.

“You took your time,” he murmured.

“I was putting your daughter to sleep.”

He sat up slowly, muscles flexing with the movement. “She’s lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“She got you first tonight.”

I blinked, heat sparking instantly.

He didn’t say another word.

Just patted the couch.

I stepped closer, feeling the weight of him already, the gravity that always pulled me back.

“You’ve been staring at me all day like you were starving,” I said.

“I am.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward him. I stumbled into his lap, legs straddling his hips before I could say no- not that I wanted to.

His hands slipped under my dress, slow and warm. “Do you know how crazy it makes me,” he whispered, lips brushing my throat, “watching you feed our baby? Knowing your body’s already full of magic and still mine?”

“Jungkook- ”

His hands gripped my thighs, his touch sending shivers up my spine. His lips brushed against my neck, sending a jolt of desire straight to my core.

“You have no idea,” he groaned. “You make me wild, Y/N. Soft and desperate at the same time.”

My head fell back, exposing the sensitive curve of my neck to his kisses. His hands tightened on my thighs, his touch both possessive and tender. A hunger ignited within me, a familiar ache that only he could mend.

“What do you want,” I breathed.

“You,” he growled, his lips brushing against my ear. “Right here, baby.”

His words sent a surge of heat through me. I didn't need to say anything else. The desire between us was a tangible thing, a force pulling us closer.

The world beyond the living room faded away. There was only Jungkook, his touch, his scent, the heat of his body against mine.

My dress, a flimsy barrier against our desire, was peeled away, discarded like a forgotten secret. His sweatpants followed, kicked aside with impatient urgency.

We sank into the cushions, skin meeting skin, a symphony of heat and longing.

His lips found mine, hungry and demanding, yet somehow gentle. His tongue traced the contours of my mouth, a silent promise of pleasures to come. His hands roamed, mapping the curves of my body, remembering every dip and swell as if they were etched into his memory.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with desire.

I shivered at his words, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His kisses were a language I understood perfectly, a dialect of passion and need.

Then, with a sudden shift, I found myself on my knees before him, his hardness throbbing against my lips. I looked up at him, my eyes reflecting the desire burning in his. He watched me with a mixture of awe and hunger, his hand gently cupping my cheek.

I took him into my mouth, my lips wrapping around him, my tongue swirling, tasting him. He groaned, his head falling back, his fingers threading through my hair, guiding me gently.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed, his voice rough with pleasure. "You're going to make me lose it."

I hummed around him, my eyes fluttering closed as I focused on the sensation of his skin against my lips, the pulse of his desire against my tongue.

But then, with a gentle hand on my shoulder, he pulled me away, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

"Hold on," he whispered, helping me up. "I want to taste you first."

He laid me down on the couch, his fingers tracing the curves of my body, his lips following their path. His kisses were slow, deliberate, a worshipful exploration of every inch of me.

When his mouth finally found the dripping cunt, I gasped, my body arching off the couch. His tongue was a maestro, conducting an orchestra of pleasure within me.

He knew exactly where to touch, where to lick, where to suck, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

"Jungkook," I moaned, my fingers digging into the cushions, my body tense with anticipation.

"Let go," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and moist. "Let me feel you."

And then, with a cry that was equal parts pleasure and surrender, I shattered, my body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me.

Jungkook’s lips never left me, his tongue continuing its gentle dance even as my body stilled. When he finally looked up, his eyes were dark with desire, his lips swollen from kissing me.

"I want you now," he said, his voice hoarse.

He positioned himself above me, his eyes locked onto mine, his hardness pressing against my entrance. He entered me slowly, filling me completely, our breaths mingling as he began to move.

It was slow, deliberate, each thrust a declaration of love, each whisper a promise of forever.

"I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine.

"I love you too," I replied, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my body moving with his, our rhythms perfectly synchronized.

His hands gripped my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin as he moved deeper, his rhythm steady and intoxicating. I wrapped my legs around him, my nails scraping his back as I met his pace, our bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. “So fucking good.”

His words were like fuel, igniting a fire within me. I tilted my head back, exposing my neck, and he took the invitation, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of sensations that made me arch into him.

His hands moved to my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples as he thrust into me, his movements growing more urgent but never losing their tenderness.

“Jungkook,” I whispered, my voice breaking as the pleasure built. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he rasped, his voice strained. “Cum with me, baby. Let go.”

He moved inside me like he’d waited lifetimes for this version of us.

And maybe he had.

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only Jungkook, his body moving within mine, the heat of our passion, the whispered declarations of love.

And then, together, we crested, our cries intertwining as we found release, our bodies trembling in the aftermath of our shared ecstasy.

═══════

Afterward, I laid against him, chest rising slowly, heart still thudding in my ears.

My thigh draped across his hip. His hand pressed softly to the curve of my lower back. We were still catching our breath, but there was no urgency left between us- only that hush that follows something holy.

His hands never stopped moving.

Slow strokes down my spine.

Gentle lines traced along my arm. His fingers brushed the swell of my hip like he was relearning me all over again- reverent, unhurried, present. Like if he stopped touching me, he might forget I was real.

“I’ll never get used to you,” he whispered.

I smiled into his chest, nose nuzzled just beneath his collarbone.

“You don’t have to,” I murmured. “You just have to keep choosing me.”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

He just held me tighter.

Our limbs tangled. Our breath syncing. The room still warm from us, from the quiet ache of want turned into worship.

From love.

From home.

═══════

Outside, the rain started again. Soft at first, then steadier, like the sky was remembering something.

Inside, everything stilled.

Bam shifted in the hallway with a low sigh. The baby monitor hummed in the background, steady and calm.

Jungkook’s breath moved through my hair as he kissed the top of my head. His arm wrapped tighter around me, his palm flat over the curve of my waist like he was anchoring us both to the moment.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t need to.

Because nothing had ever felt this whole.

I pressed my lips to his chest, right above his heart, and closed my eyes.

And in the hush that followed, I whispered into the silence between us-

We lived.

We loved.

And now, we begin again.

═══════

Post-A/N: did this live up to expectations? was this a good ending for them? 🥺 this is definitely their last big story but i’m always open to ideas for drabbles. tysm for loving them as much as i do and for reading their story 🫶

ANOTHER TIME ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/22/2025

Taglist: @rinkud @kelsyx33 @army7-013 @jungshaking @battlingmyowndemons @Strxqrd1 @mar-lo-pap @lovingkoalaface @whoa-jo @kiliskywalker666 @sucker4jeon @annpeachy-blog @kaiparkerwifes @nikkinikj @elithenium @asyr97 @heyinwluv85s @jjkluver7 @bammbi-jeon127 @kookoo-kachoo @angelsdecalcomania @kayswatanabe @granataepfelchen @kelsyx33 @tatamicc @blubird592 @llallaaa @chromietriestowrite @k1ll1ngcl0wns @jahnaviii @mfsitscho

#jkwrites m 🔄#another time m

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jkwrites-m · 5 days ago

Text

Begin Again

Bonus Chapter - Another Time

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, smut, fluff

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: In a life gifted by second chances, love becomes gentler, deeper, and destined to grow.

A/N: so someone asked for a bonus chapter (sequel??) and i wanted to make sure i hit everything 🫶

ANOTHER TIME ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

═══════

y/n’s pov:

Five months felt like a lifetime.

And no time at all.

So maybe that’s why I wasn’t the bride who lost her mind over calligraphy or napkin textures.

All I wanted was a quiet place, a soft dress, and him waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

Still… someone had to plan the damn thing.

“I swear if you don’t pick a venue this week, I’m gonna marry him myself,” Nayeon teased, flipping through Pinterest photos beside me on the couch.

“I already offered,” Taehyung called from the kitchen. “Jungkook turned me down. Tragic, really.”

“Let it go, Tae,” Jimin said flatly.

I laughed and leaned my head on Nayeon’s shoulder, sipping from my iced lavender tea. “I have a venue. It’s just… more of a place than a venue.”

Nayeon raised an eyebrow. “Okay, mysterious.”

“The cove,” I said softly. “Where he proposed. Where we went that day, before anything bad began.”

The room went still for a moment.

Then Nayeon smiled- not her usual cheeky grin, but something gentler. “That’s perfect.”

═══════

Later that night, after everyone left and Jungkook was curled into my side in bed, I scrolled through dresses on my phone- not big, sparkly ones. Just soft shapes. Linen. Silk. Flowy silhouettes.

“Do you want to be surprised?” I asked, voice low in the dark.

“About what?” he murmured, half-asleep.

“What I’ll wear.”

“I already know you’ll be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled into his chest. “That’s not an answer.”

“Then yes. Surprise me,” he whispered, kissing my hair. “But I hope you wear bare feet. You’re always prettiest when you’re grounded.”

My heart thudded.

I nodded into his skin and whispered, “Okay.”

═══════

Three days later, I booked the permits for the beach. We’d marry there in mid October- when the sky turned amber early and the air was still warm enough to hold us.

I didn’t need a huge wedding.

I had him.

And he was already everything.

═══════

The night before I went dress shopping alone, I couldn’t sleep.

I watched the moonlight trace the shape of his collarbone and thought: This man watched me die, screaming my name when he couldn’t move. And now he gets to watch me live.

How do you prepare vows for someone like that?

How do you pick a dress when you already feel like a bride just from lying next to him?

I didn’t know.

But I knew I didn’t want a crowd.

It took thirty minutes.

I twirled once in front of the mirror.

And in my mind, I could already see him.

Smiling.

Waiting.

═══════

Later that night, Jungkook helped me hang twinkle lights across our little balcony. We were sitting on a blanket beneath them, sipping chilled wine, barefoot and tired, but happy.

I leaned against his shoulder, twirling the ring on my finger.

“Five months,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “Feels close and far at the same time.”

“You nervous?”

“Only about not crying like a baby when I see you walking toward me.”

“You cried when I bought soy milk last week.”

“It was organic. I got overwhelmed.”

I snorted and elbowed him gently.

He turned and kissed my temple.

“You’re really marrying me, huh?” he said, voice softer.

“I already did,” I replied. “In every version of us. This one’s just for keeps.”

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I’d rewritten the first line six times.

I couldn’t find the words.

It wasn’t that I didn’t feel them.

It’s that I felt them too much.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Not just the woman in our house who wore my hoodie to bed and kissed me behind half-open refrigerator doors- I saw all of her.

I saw the version of her that fell asleep beside me in a backyard under the stars when we were kids.

I saw the one who said my name while bleeding out onto the floor.

I saw the one who didn’t recognize me when I begged her to remember.

And I saw her now.

Softer. Whole. Full of light again.

How do you put that into vows?

How do you write a promise when you’ve already broken it once- not by choice, but by fate?

I scribbled down a sentence and scratched it out before the ink dried.

Then I put my head in my hands and exhaled hard through my nose.

I didn’t cry.

Not yet.

═══════

Instead, I was just sitting here.

Surrounded by silence.

And trying not to fall apart.

I walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and stared out the window for a few minutes.

How many times had I imagined this day?

Too many.

But I never imagined the part where I had to condense lifetimes into a speech. To find a way to say, “I’ve loved you in every version of this story, and this is the one I want to keep.”

I leaned on the counter and said it aloud, just to try it out.

It echoed strangely. Almost too quiet.

Eventually, I sat down again.

Turned the page.

Took a breath.

And started writing from the place that hurt.

“I thought love was something you waited for, but you taught me it’s something you fight for.”

Then the next.

The pen moved faster now.

“You didn’t remember me when we began again. But I remembered you. And I loved you enough to find you anyway.”

I could feel it- that pull behind my eyes. The one that always came before tears.

But I didn’t stop.

I stared at the last line for a long time.

And then I whispered into the quiet:

“I never got to say it when you died.”

A beat.

“But I’ll say it now and every day after.”

I closed the notebook and sat in the silence.

Heart full. Hands trembling.

Finally ready.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

The sky opened soft for us that day.

There were no clouds. No gusts of wind to tangle my hair or pull at the veil I decided not to wear. Just the kind of golden light that made everything look like it had been kissed by memory.

I stood barefoot in the sand, holding my dress in one hand so it wouldn’t drag in the tide. My heart beat in my throat- steady, certain, not from nerves… but from wonder.

This is happening.

My mom sniffled into a tissue from a few feet away. My dad had cried the second I stepped out of the car.

But I didn’t feel overwhelmed.

I felt ready.

Like every moment before this had been training for this one.

And now the world was holding its breath with me.

═══════

The walk down the “aisle” - really just a worn path of smoothed stones and flower petals- felt slow in the best way. Time didn’t speed up. No music rushed me along.

I walked.

And Jungkook waited.

He stood at the edge of the ocean, barefoot too, hair a little messy, wearing a light tan suit with the sleeves rolled up and his heart written all over his face.

When our eyes met, I felt the air shift.

Like even the sea had remembered us.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered when I reached him.

“You look like a dream,” I whispered back.

We both laughed softly, holding hands as the sun dipped just enough to set the water glowing.

The ceremony was short.

Taehyung officiated, because of course he did. He made jokes that had us both smiling through tears and then gave us the quiet space to say the things that mattered.

Jungkook’s hands were shaking as he pulled the paper from his pocket.

He looked at me- then folded it shut.

“I don’t need this,” he said, voice thick. “I just need to look at you.”

I cried before he even started.

I wanted to kiss him before it was even my turn.

And when it was my turn, I spoke every word clearly:

And you had.

You are not my beginning.

You are not my end.

You are my constant.

In every version of me, I love you. And in this one, the one where I get to wake up beside you, where we don’t die before the happy part, I vow to keep choosing you. Every day. Every version.

Jungkook, you were worth every lifetime it took to find you.

And I promise- in this life, I’m not going anywhere.”

When they said “You may now kiss the bride,” we didn’t hesitate.

The kiss wasn’t perfect.

It was messy and salty and full of tears.

But it was real.

And it was ours.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I used to think peace was a destination.

Something you found after running long enough. Surviving enough.

But lying here in this sun-drenched bed beside her- sand still in my hair, the faint scent of coconut oil on her skin- I realized it was never about getting to something.

It was about getting back to her.

She was peace.

We hadn’t spoken much since last night.

We didn’t have to.

After the wedding, after the laughter, after the tear-streaked toasts and barefoot dancing in the sand, we slipped away. Into this quiet.

A private cove just outside the island village. No tourists. No noise. Just water, wind, and each other.

And the occasional gecko that stared at me from the ceiling.

But even he was chill.

I turned my head to look at her.

Y/N was still half-asleep, her lips parted just slightly, hair tangled across her cheek. My thumb brushed over her knuckles, and she stirred, murmuring something soft I couldn’t make out.

“I didn’t know I could be this happy,” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to myself or her or the stars.

Because it was true.

There was a time when happiness felt like a dangerous thing to want. Like every time I reached for it, the world would slap it out of my hands.

But not now.

Now I was married to the girl who used to visit my dreams when I was too young to understand why my heart hurt.

And she was real.

So was the gold band on my finger.

So was this bed.

So was this life.

═══════

Y/N was in a white bikini and sunglasses that slid down her nose. She had a towel wrapped around her waist and sea spray tangled in her hair.

“I still don’t believe yesterday was real,” she said, biting into the fruit. “Did we actually do that?”

“We did,” I said, grinning. “You cried first, by the way.”

“Barely.”

“Three minutes into my vows.”

“That’s because you started with ‘I thought love was something you waited for, but you taught me it’s something you fight for.’ What am I, made of stone?”

I laughed. “I just call it like I see it.”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, slow and soft.

And even though we’d kissed a thousand times by now, this one still burned sweet.

We spent the afternoon under a palm tree.

No phones. No plans.

She read from a dog-eared novel. I wrote little phrases in a journal I kept secret- future lyrics, letters, things I didn’t know how to say out loud yet.

She dozed off beside me, head on my shoulder.

And I… just watched her.

There was a moment, sometime between sunset and dinner, when I looked at her over a candlelit table and something clicked.

A feeling I hadn’t expected yet.

She was laughing about something dumb (probably the way I almost tripped over a crab) and I looked at her, and this thought echoed through me like a heartbeat:

I want to have a family with her.

Not just a wedding.

Not just a home.

A future.

Tiny hands. Little socks on a laundry line. A child with her smile and my wild heart.

It wasn’t something we’d talked about yet.

But I knew, in that second, that it lived in me now. That quiet wanting.

Not from pressure.

Not from fear.

But from love.

So much love it had to grow somewhere.

That night, she curled into me under the thin sheets and whispered, “This is my favorite version of us.”

I kissed her forehead.

And smiled in the dark.

Because mine was still coming.

═══════

Peace has a sound.

I didn’t know that until now.

It sounds like her slow, sleepy breathing against my chest. The rhythm of the tide outside our villa. The crinkle of linen sheets when she shifts slightly in her sleep.

It sounds like home.

The air in the room is warm. Not hot- just sun-soaked and still. Her leg is tangled over mine, bare skin brushing bare skin, and I trace slow circles on her back while the ceiling fan spins above us.

This wasn’t a fairytale.

This was real. Intimate. Quiet. The beginning of forever.

I kiss her shoulder gently, and she stirs with a soft hum.

“You’re awake?” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

“Mmhmm,” I nod against her skin, “watching you breathe.”

She laughs quietly, blinking slowly up at me. “Creep.��