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starshapedkookie · 2 years

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Live Through This | 2

→ why do i run back to you like i don't mind if you fuck up my life?

PLEASE read part 1, none of this will make sense without it!

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: ex-lovers to frenemies to lovers (?), band au, punk au, angst, smut, fluffiness

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and drug use, mentions of death, smut😳 (protected sex, hate sex 🔥 turned into 😩🥺 sex, choking, biting, oral sex female receiving, orgasm denial(?), mentions of therapy but yay! oc & jk getting their sh-t together! this is kind of lazily edited so sorry

premise: A record deal. The one thing Violet needed to become the next big rockstars. As the front-woman to the band, life couldn’t have been any easier for you. That is until a devastating life event changes everything for you, leaving you heartbroken and in a downward spiral you can’t get out of. With your biggest competitor, Whailen 52 on your heels, your bandmates worried about the future, and your ex Jeon Jungkook being your only solace; you weren’t sure if you were going to live through this to see your dreams come to fruition.

word count: 24,000 (roughly)

spotify playlist - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6U3lm7y9hCgpw1bzc6r5qu?si=65cc5fd78a224189

happy new year! & welcome back to my semi-annual fic posting lmao. i hope you all enjoy the end to this story that i love so much. come chat to me about anything once you're finished reading💜

_____

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” The words seethe from your mouth and into the phone.

“Possibly,” Yoongi responds calmly. You could see him right now—laid back in his bed or a chair, looking at his nails aimlessly, maybe even lighting a cigarette up. Acting as if what he was asking was an everyday question with no repercussions.

“Min Yoongi I c-can—not believe the goddamn audacity of you right now,” you stutter some of your words, disbelief flowing through your veins. You’re trying to keep as quiet as possible since Jimin, Hobi, and Lisa all reside in your designated practice room down the hall. Not only was Yoongi interrupting practice for you on your time, he was doing it to ask you this?!

“Y/N I know it sounds—“

“Crazy?” You answer for him, “Yes it’s fucking insane… Asking me to fill in lead guitar for your band?! Excuse me?!”

“Technically Jungkook’s and Tae’s band,” he says nonchalantly.

“Because that makes it any better?” You fight back.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Yoongi sounds much more determined, his voice stern and heavy, “I know how much Violet means to you—how much you cherish it. I know you want a record deal more than anyone I know, including myself, but how would you feel if everything you’ve built up with your band came crashing down over a stupid drunken mistake, huh? I know you would be just as desperate to find someone to fill in and you know that I would do the same—hell, Jungkook would absolutely do the same for you if it came down to it and you fucking know it.”

You frown, huffing into the phone, “It’s not my fault Namjoon did what he did.”

“Jesus fuck Y/N you’re missing the point,” he says now seemingly frustrated at your responses that are clearly not what he wants to hear.

“How do you think my band would feel then Yoongi?… Huh? Filling in for my ex that cheated on me’s band?”

“Please Y/N, everyone knows you and Jungkook are still fucking in love,” he says, “And it’s not my fault you went and cheated on Jungkook with Jimin making this decision hard for you.”

Your mouth falls agape, “Fuck you Yoongi—we’ve moved past that!”

“Clearly,” sarcasm evident, “If you won’t do this for Jungkook, at least do it for me. Pretend he’s not even there.”

You furrow your brows, chewing on your lips, “Because that’s easy?” you say obviously.

“Y/N will you at least sleep on it,” he sighs heavily, “We’re desperate and I think you owe Jungkook one.”

“I don’t owe him anything?” you retort.

“Mm,” he mumbles.

“You’re actually ridiculous Yoongi,” you sigh heavily, and you know you might regret your next words later on but Yoongi was right. You owed Jungkook for being a pain in the ass. And he would absolutely fill in for Jimin if you asked him. Shit.

“Fine,” you huff, “I’ll sleep on it.”

You can hear the sigh of relief Yoongi gets out, a small smile definitely spreading across his lips, “You’re the fucking best Y/N.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll call you back tomorrow all right?”

Before you can answer, there’s a small knocking at the door you’re sat behind. Jimin walks in promptly, his eyes finding yours instantly, noticing you’re still on the phone.

“Okay, sounds good.”

You hang up before he can respond, turning your attention fully to Jimin.

“Everything okay?” He asks, “You’ve been gone awhile… wanted to check in—“

“Yeah yeah everything’s fine, thanks Chim,” you give him a small smile to which he returns. You knew if you ended up helping Whailen, Jimin would take it the hardest. You’re not even sure he would speak to you again. Hooking up with him had to be the worst decision you ever made. Not only had it made things uncomfortable for you two for so long—just recently going back to your “normal”—Jimin loathed Jungkook. He had never been a huge fan of him even when you two started dating, always seeing him as too immature for yourself. If anything, Jimin always wanted the best for you and your ambitions. He didn’t think Jungkook fit into that mold and that’s where you two differed the most. Jungkook was in your life at least for the near future and he couldn’t stand that. You could only hope that he wouldn’t be mad at you but knowing how sensitive and protective Jimin was over you—it was an inevitable downfall you would have to prepare for.

_____

“Jesus Christ,” Namjoon’s eyes look you up and down as he walks into their practice studio, Jungkook and Taehyung in tow close behind him.

“She said yes?” Taehyung’s mouth drops open as he notices your frame, sitting against the very couch you sat with Jungkook on a couple weeks back. Yoongi sat to your right and Jungkook had yet to look at you. He keeps his gaze busy unsure what to say. Jin soon walks in after the three of them, his eyes wide when he spots you.

“Holy fuck,” he exasperates, “She actually showed up?”

“No guys it’s a clone,” you finally speak up, annoyance clear across your tone, “I’m right here you know, a hello or something would be nice for this huge favor.”

“Please don’t act like this isn’t a privilege sweetheart,” Namjoon mocks as he sits down on a couch opposite of you and Yoongi.

You give him a small smile, “I’m glad you recognize it is a privilege for you guys to have me here,” you throw his words back at him. You don’t know what you did to get attitude from Kim Namjoon of all people, but you hoped he would kindly shut the fuck up.

“Come on hyung cool it,” Jungkook finally speaks up from where he stands near the equipment, setting up a few parts to the drum kit.

“Whatever,” Namjoon mutters, looking down at his phone diverting his attention elsewhere.

“Y/N we really couldn’t thank you enough for this,” Taehyung kindly speaks to you. His light brown hair is hidden under a cap, but he’s as handsome as ever.

“I’m here with conditions you know,” you say to him to which is eyes then turn to Yoongi, seeming confused. You glower over at Yoongi, “You didn’t tell them did you?”

He shrugs, “I was waiting for the right moment.”

“Conditions like what?” Jin says sat near his bass.

You fix you your posture, noticing Jungkook peeking your way every so often. You hadn’t spoken to him since your talk and love profession two weeks ago, so you were out of the loop of what he had been up to since then.

“I get to choose one song for you guys,” you say confidently.

“What the fuck—“

“Absolutely not—“

Namjoon and Jin groan in unison. Taehyung looks a little annoyed from this demand. Jungkook’s face is straight and unreadable. Yoongi is smirking beside you. He loved you coming in here demanding things—it added some spice and the boys definitely weren’t expecting it.

Taehyung takes a moment to himself, thinking about it before saying, “Fine. If I can sing it, fine. Anything else?”

“My name goes on your roster as lead, Jungkook’s name goes on drums,” It was only fair in your eyes.

“You’re fucking kidding,” Namjoon’s dark eyes look towards you, “You’re Krist Vedder’s daughter, do you really need anymore fucking attention? I’m the drummer of the band, my name deserves to be there—”

“Hyung do you ever shut up?” Jungkook’s voice raises from where he sits behind the drums now, his eyes finding yours across the room. “This is your fault we’re in this position, be fucking grateful Y/N is a damn good guitar player and willing to help us.”

“Defending your ex fucking girlfriend over me dude? That’s low,” he seethes.

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to defend you in that manner but you it makes your heart flutter, hands a little less shaky. You send him a small smile in return before Taehyung turns to Namjoon frustratingly.

“Hyung how about you sit this practice out?” Taehyung says to him.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, “Fine,” he stands up, “Have fun everyone.”

You watch as he leaves the practice room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Someone’s cheerful,” Yoongi remarks, standing up beside you.

“He’s been such an asshole lately,” Taehyung groans, “Y/N ready to practice some?” He turns to you changing the subject quickly.

You nod, feeling somewhat nervous. This wasn’t your band therefore you were not in your element. You and Jungkook had played guitar together many of times, but this was completely uncharted territory. Mind that you still had yet to tell your band you were doing this. All you knew is that by the end of this, your hands you were going to be tired and rough from calluses working double overtime on your beloved Fender. You only hoped that this wasn’t a decision you weren’t going to regret this time next week. After all, your dad told you to make the right choices—weren’t you?

“If you put a capo on it would sound better,” you point out. Your eyes follow the way down the neck of Jungkook’s acoustic guitar, up his chest, his neck, and finally his eyes.

He scowls, ignoring your suggestion as he continues to strum the chords to Muse’s Time is Running Out. He knows it would sound better adding a capo, but he hated proving you right. He hums the words, making you feel drowsier as the minutes pass.

You two are sat on the small outdoor couch Jungkook and Taehyung had on their small porch of the apartment. It overlooked the bustling city of Seoul. It was your favorite view. You were saddened that they decided against renewing their lease, instead moving to separate apartments in a few months. You supposed being glued to the hip since their early teens, Jungkook and Taehyung were realizing they needed to spend time away from each other. It would be better for their band and personal relationship in the long run.

You nudge Jungkook’s side with your foot and he jerks against it, a small smile peaking through his lips. You do it again and again, trying to get a reaction from him.

“Quit,” he grabs your ankle with a laugh, looking down and over at you. You’re laid on your back in one of his flannels lazily buttoned, legs straight and feet propped on his knees. You’re his favorite view and perhaps it’s why the heavy weight in his chest brings him down further into hell.

“Pay attention to me,” you pout as you try to squirm your ankle out of his grip.

“Was the last two hours not enough?” He muses cheekily. His face turn a slight pink as you shake your head. He can’t tell if you’re causing him to turn color or if it is the warmth of summer coming.

“C’mhere,” he pulls on your ankle and you smile as you push yourself up, crawling over to his side. You remove his guitar from his lap, setting it down carefully as he eyes you intensely. If anything happened to any of his guitars, you’re sure he would set you aflame. And you would do the same.

“Hi,” you smile up at his beautiful face as you cuddle up beside him, throwing your legs over his lap fully. He opens his arms for you wide, pulling you as close as possible to his body. He’s always so warm and comforting.

“Hi,” his voice is deep as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Jungkook had been acting a little distant lately. You didn’t know if it was the decision of him dropping out of school to fully pursue music, stress from his parents about that said decision, or maybe the horrible fight you two had a couple weeks back. Any chance you got though, you made sure to hold him as close as possible, desperate for him to come back down to you. You had just celebrated your three year anniversary together and even with Jungkook being more reserved, you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“What’s up baby?” You nudge him as his gaze looks off into the distant. It’s probably just past midnight, but the city is still alive and well. He looks back over to you, hand rubbing circles on your exposed thigh.

“Just thinking,” he mumbles with straight lips, a deep sigh emitting from his nose. You bring a hand up, squeezing his right cheek playfully. He lets you play with him like a doll. He doesn’t care as long as you keep touching him because he knows all too soon—that’ll be a thing of the past.

“About what?” You ponder curiously as he leans into your touch.

“I love you,” he completely disregards your question, leaning into some so you can meet him halfway. The kiss is gentle and soft. Unlike a few hours ago where they were rough and calloused, bruising each other’s flesh in the worst ways possible. You want more from him desperately but onset soreness between your thighs tells you to hold off.

“I love you too. Keep playing,” you whisper against his mouth as he pulls away. He nods tenderly and you scoot away from him some so he can pick his guitar back up. He would do anything for you. Maybe that would make you want to stay. You choose to stay in your curled up position, no matter how difficult is might be for him to play. He rests the bottom of the instrument between the crack of your parted legs, the neck going the opposite direction.

He clears his throat before beginning to strum chords that you don’t immediately recognize, but it soon settles in.

“Why the doom and gloom babe?” You sulk which causes him to stop playing. He laughs, shaking his head some.

“You said play me a song, I am playing you a song,” he raises his eyebrows at you obviously. You giggle in return, before huffing a fine, settling back some in the couch cushions.

He starts the chords over again, the heaviness of the song filling the air around you two. You don’t know why Jungkook has chosen to play you despairing songs the past hour, but you leave him be. He’s much more sensitive than he likes to show on to people. He tries his best to show his emotions, despite how bad he can be at communicating at times. He promised he would work on it and maybe that was your first mistake.

“Don’t wanna think about it, don’t wanna talk about, I’m just so sick about it,” he sings low under the moonlight and stars. “Just so confused about it, feelin’ the blues about it, I just can’t do without ya—“

Perhaps your second mistake was downplaying Jungkook’s distance and undermining the meanings of the songs he was playing. And Jungkook would soon learn himself, what goes around does indeed come back around.

______

“Thanks for driving me home again,” you look over to your doe eyed companion. He shifts his car into park, settling near your apartment.

“No problem,” he says looking over to you. It was late on a Tuesday night—practicing with Whailen just wrapped. You had practiced with Violet earlier in the afternoon and to say you were exhausted was an understatement. There were 4 days left until the competition and you only hoped you wouldn’t be burnt out by then.

“You doing okay?” Jungkook asks as you let out a yawn, covering your mouth quickly.

“Yeah, just really tired,” you say honestly. Truthfully—you had been doing pretty well the past week or so. Settling things with your mother had eased your tension greatly and the letter from your dad seemed to come at just the right time.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this Y/N,” he says genuinely. You had heard that phrase from everyone in Whailen—minus Namjoon—at least once a day since you first came to rehearsal last week.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head some, “I know you’d do the same for me if I asked.”

He gives you a small smile, his eyes softening, “Yeah… yeah I would,” his voice trails off leaving a heavy silence in the car. Ever since yours and Jungkook’s talk, the two of you honestly had not spoken many words to each other. He would give you a hello when you walked into the practice studio as did you, only exchanging words with each other when absolutely necessary. It wasn’t awkward by any means, but there had been a shift in your relationship with each other. Good or bad—you didn’t know.

“Yeah well, I’d better head up,” you unbuckle yourself, ripping your gaze away from his.

“Do they know?” He asks, “Your band?”

The question catches you off guard, your heart stopping for a moment, “No. Not yet”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything else as you gather your bag from your feet, opening the car door swiftly, “Thanks again.”

You’re about to shut the door when his voice rings through your ears once again.

“Wait, Y/N—“

You stop your motions, furrowing your brows, “Yeah?”

His dark eyes catch yours in the street lamps that are illuminate the parking lot. His mouth opens but he quickly shuts back, his lips tightening into a line. His expression is unreadable, his eyes wide and starry-like.

“Have a good night,” is all he says. Knowing him all too well, you know that was not what he intended on saying. However, not wanting to stir anything up, you leave it at that. You wish him well too watching as he drives away, leaving you alone to your thoughts.

The moment you cross the threshold into your apartment, you nearly jump out of your shoes when Lisa’s voice rains down on you.

“Were you just with Jungkook?” Her words hit you like a baseball bat and you are the 95 MPH fastball.

“Huh?” You return dumbly, hanging up your key next to hers.

“I saw you two,” she says, “From my window.”

“Never took you as a peeping Tom,” you walk past her frame and back towards your room, wanting nothing more to shower and head into a deep sleep. Her footsteps follow yours closely and you know she isn’t going to let up.

“It’s almost midnight, we finished practice at seven,” she says, “I thought you and him stopped hooking up—“

“We did,” you interrupt, kicking off your sneakers and laying down on your bed promptly, hoping she would get the hint to leave you be.

“Well, then that doesn’t explain why you were with him.”

You are tempted to keep tight lipped but with the competition just days away—they were going to find out no matter what. It was too late to back out on either of your commitments so would simply have to deal with it.

“I’m doing him a favor,” you say, sitting up and sitting criss-crossed. Her eyes narrow as she steps towards your frame, pulling out your desk chair to sit.

“And what favor could you possibly owe him?”

You feel your heart racing, palms sweaty, a lump in your throat before pushing it down, “I’m filling in lead for them,” you pause, “For the competition on Saturday.”

Lisa’s face falls, eyes wide, losing all color at once. “E-excuse me? Y/N what?”

You don’t say anything else, giving her time to process the information.

She starts shaking her head, waving her hands around in confusion, “B-but you said that Namjoon was o-out and we had the leg up now? Y/N please tell me you’re joking oh my god—“

“I’m not,” you mumble, looking down at your hands.

“You have to be fucking kidding, Y/N they’re our competition—our biggest competition at that and you’re out here helping them?!”

“Lisa please—“

“No, don’t Lisa please me—this is ridiculous! Let them suffer for their own problems!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes, “Lisa look at me,” you say sternly, “How do you think I would feel if you, or Jimin, or Hobi got hurt right before our biggest fucking gig—a goddamn record deal on the line—I-I would still want us to play! But there is no way in hell I would ask some random bassist or drummer to fill in for one of you guys! You know if I asked Jungkook, or Taehyung, they would do the same for us.”

“Would they though?” She presses, her fingers turning white from gripping the back of your desk chair.

“Yes,” you say, “I know Jungkook would. Please I know it’s not ideal for any one of us but it’s one gig but I promise you that we will be fine.”

“I can’t fucking believe you sometimes,” she exasperates, standing up promptly from the chair. “I’m assuming you haven’t told Hobi yet? Or Jimin?” You bite your lip hesitantly and it’s all the answer she needs before she is rolling her eyes, huffing at your stature.

“You better not be sabotaging us,” she pauses, “You’re own band.”

Lisa leaves your room, slamming the door behind her. Your face falls, her words coming down on you like a rain shower. Violet was your band—the thing you perhaps cherished the most of anything else in the world. You had worked so hard, practiced so many hours, wrote so many songs—all to leading to a moment coming this weekend. If you secured a record deal then your life would change in so many ways. Your dreams would come true—the dreams your dad had instilled on you as a little girl would come true. Were you sabotaging yourself by helping Whailen 52? You certainly didn’t think so until Lisa said that. It was obviously too late to back on your promise to Yoongi, knowing your dad would have wanted you to do the right thing.

“Fuck,” you fall back against your bed again, body bouncing slightly. You were tired, hungry, and your head was killing you. You really hoped you had made the right decision.

____

Vision was a little hazy, the music a little too loud, and maybe you had already had a little too much to drink for the evening, but you were having fun. A luxury that you hadn’t truly experienced in weeks. The venue was huge—an upscale bar on the opposite side of the city—complete with a rooftop, dance floors, and multiple levels each equipped with their own stage set ups.

Geffen Records kicked off competition weekend with a party, bringing out all the stops for tomorrow evening. There were 11 bands that were playing in total tomorrow evening—press release posters lining the walls of the bar with each band name on it. On the third line sat Violet, a little down to the seventh line sat Whailen 52. The whole night had been surreal so far and perhaps that’s why you had downed a little too much alcohol to ease your nerves.

You found yourself at the bar with Jimin and Lisa ordering another drink, trying your best to ease all the pent up nerves you have. You were exhausted and your fingers were calloused more than they had ever been. You were excited to show your hard off work, both in Violet and Whailen. If anything, you would hope that playing with Whailen would put more spotlight on you and your band. The only front woman in the competition, playing guitar for two bands—that had to look impressive to whoever was going to be judging.

“Babe maybe make this your last one,” Lisa remarks as you down your shot. It was only your second one and you shake your head in response. She was being dramatic.

“I’m fine,” you protest, leaning against the bar to people watch. You wanted to keep an eye out for any familiar faces—doe eyes in particular.

“Do you really want to be hungover tomorrow of all days?” She adds. You glance at her from the corner of your eyes. Maybe she wasn’t being dramatic. You turn back around, ordering a water promptly.

“Where’s Hobi?” You look around, realizing you hadn’t seen your drummer in over an hour. Actually, no one had seen him over an hour.

“Probably chatting up that one bassist in that band Moody,” Jimin explains, “He’s always eyeing her up and down when we’ve been to their gigs.”

You and Lisa laugh in unison, “Good for him,” you smile. Hobi was a charmer that’s one thing for sure.

“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” Jimin turns to you, leaning on his side as he drinks a vodka water. Lisa eyes you up and down, turning her attention away from you two. Neither of you have told Jimin or Hoseok about your double crossing tomorrow—making Lisa swear not to say anything. If she had kept your word, Jimin was still oblivious and if she hadn’t—he was a really good actor.

“Nervous,” is all you say, afraid you might say too much.

“Don’t be nervous,” he reassures, “You’re the best damn guitar player in this whole bar.”

You smile at his compliment, “Give yourself more credit than that.” It was true—Jimin was an amazing guitar player. You considered yourself lucky as hell when Jimin wanted to audition for your band. He had left his old band for yours, putting all his trust in you. Which is why you were so terrified of seeing his reaction tomorrow when you would finally tell him your secret.

“I am,” he nudges your foot that’s clad in a strappy black heel. Definitely not your normal get up, but you wanted to make an impression on whoever would be here tonight.

“Is that miss Y/N, leader of the sensational band Violet?” You don’t recognize the voice at first, you and Jimin simultaneously looking in the direction it came from. Your eyes land on a tall man, whose voice you can now put a name and face too.

Kim Mingyu. Leader of the band Mayday, one of Jungkook’s best friends, and certified asshole. Mayday was an impressive band to say the least. Punk rock based like many of the ones competing, but they probably had the longest list of accomplishments already behind them. They recently opened for All Time Low at a gig in America. They were also already signed to a small record label but were clearly trying to move on up to the mainstream. As showy as their accomplishments were, in terms of their music, they were simply average. It’s why you didn’t consider them competition. Your band was a lot better, on many different levels, and you were about to prove that tomorrow.

“Mingyu,” you greet him, “Long time no see.”

His eyes look between you and Jimin, a small smirk rising upon his face, “I see your efforts paid off.”

“Excuse me?” You’re shocked by his words. They’re vague to anyone else, but you know exactly what he means. He doesn’t elaborate as he steps forward, keeping his eyes on you. He motions for you to scoot to right a tad, so he can squeeze between you and Jimin. Lisa has noticed who has made their way here and she tenses up beside you.

Mingyu orders a beer, leaning on his elbows against the mahogany and gold encrusted bar.

“So how have you been?” He turns to you, completely ignoring Jimin. Your guitarist gives you a worried look but you brush it promptly.

“Fine,” your answer is simple. You don’t owe him any explanation of your feelings. He was always so mean to you when you and Jungkook dated. It got to the point where you refused to hang out with Jungkook if Mingyu was going to be there. This was set within the first 6 months of your 3 year relationship.

“Ah thanks,” he nods to the bartender, taking a gulp of his dark beer, “That’s good, considering everything…”

Your body tenses up, heart rate intensifying too, breathing becoming a little shaky. You stay silent, feeling your brain become less cloudy and more aware of your surroundings. You were tempted to grab Jimin and Lisa, run off and find Hobi, but Mingyu keeps speaking, preventing you from doing so.

“I mean heroin, that’s one hell of a drug,” he tsks, “Wasn’t really my thing you know? Didn’t enjoy the nodding off, takes the fun out of things—“

“Fuck off dude, just leave us alone,” Jimin snips. You feel bile rising in the back of your throat, head spinning as his words sink in. He knew precisely what he was doing and his motive to approaching you.

“Last time someone left you two alone, you ended up fucking him behind Jungkook’s back right?” He turns to you with, clad with a proud smirk. Lisa wraps her small hand around your wrist, worried you might launch at him. Little did she know, you couldn’t do that. He was breaking you down piece by piece and you had nothing in you to fight him.

“I’m serious Mingyu,” Jimin takes action, grabbing him by the arm to tug him away from you and the bar. It draws attention from everyone who is near you, gasps and other whisperings rising afraid of what might happen. Mingyu backs up with his hands up to show a sign of submission.

“Whoa,” he says, “Just some friendly banter is all… I mean everyone is all good friends now though right?” He eggs on, “Isn’t that why you’re playing lead for Whailen tomorrow?”

Your face completely falls—your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach. You feel Jimin tense up beside you, his gaze heavy on your face but you can’t possibly look at him. You briefly glance at Lisa who is looking away, fidgeting uncomfortably in her own heels.

“I-I,” you pause, at a loss for words, “Who told you that?”

He smirks before walking backwards some, downing the rest of his beer, “Who do you think?”

He walks away from the scene, leaving you stunned, embarrassed, and panicked.

Jimin turns to you quickly, though he stays silent. You’re unable to catch your breath or look at him.

Your emotions are running astray—anger, confusion, betrayal, pain. It was overwhelming as you gripped the side of the bar trying to maintain your balance. Not only did Mingyu throw out your secret in front of anyone who was around to here it—he also threw your father’s passing up in your face. You wanted to cry, you really did, but something in you told you to save your tears for later. While you were angry with Mingyu, the hurt and betrayal you felt knowing Jungkook told him everything was manifesting itself into anger at your ex lover.

“Whoa whoa, hey guys what happened?” Hobi appears by Lisa’s side, seemingly out of nowhere, panic striking his features, “Someone said you almost got into a fight?” He references towards Jimin.

“Where’s Jungkook? Have you seen him?” You ask your drummer quickly, your jaw clenching the more you think about those doe eyes that have now betrayed you more than once.

“Y/N let’s not—“

“Have you seen them?” You ask again interrupting Lisa, pushing yourself off the bar stool. Jimin has stayed silent, his eyes full of confusion and distrust as he looks your way.

“I-I think they might be downstairs?” Hoseok finally answers, looking between his three bandmates curiously. He should have expected he was walking into a shitshow when he heard Park Jimin of all people almost started a bar fight.

Without another word, you leave your bandmates rushing to find the nearest set of stairs down to the second floor. Your heels are making you slower than usual, almost slipping once or twice but you passively ignore it. Your blood was boiling and you weren’t leaving until you spoke to him. You’re looking around frantically at the packed bar; people everywhere, drinks flying, music loud, smoke clouds blazing. You make your way through the crowd towards the open area with tables and you nearly scream when a hand grabs your arm in the midst of it all.

“Y/N—woah, what’s the rush babe, come have a drink!”

“Yoongi! You scared the shit out of me,” you hold your chest over your heart, “Have you seen Jungkook? Or Taehyung? Or any of your fucking band—“

“Whoa whoa, what’s up?” He looks at you up and down, noticing your frantic state of mind.

“Have you?” You persist.

“We all were down at the first level, they might still be there,” he replies, tone lacing with concern. He’s about to ask what in the hell is going on but you turn away from him quick enough to escape. Yoongi watches your frame from behind as you walk away, an unsettling feeling washing over him and he can’t help but to follow you, sensing something was about to blow up.

You find locks of freshly dyed purple ends catching in the bar lighting right near the steps you just got off of. Your heart rate was surely going a million miles per hour. The new violet color of his hair perhaps sends you into overdrive. You stop fresh in your tracks when you get a better angle of the scene. It makes more bile rise in your throat and you feel like you could actually get sick.

Whailen is sat around a few nice couches and chairs, all laughing and drinking absentmindedly. All looks relatively normal until you see a girl propped up on Jungkook’s lap, her looking at him like he’s the brightest star of all the constellations. He’s laughing and clearly drunk, his hands a little too high on her thighs for your preference. There are other women around them too, but Jungkook was already in hot water with you—you weren’t letting him off the hook.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s eyes immediately lock eyes with yours as you get closer to them. All of his bandmates and groupies look over at you, all smiling with welcoming ‘hello’s’ and ‘sit down’s’. Jungkook shifts awkwardly in his seat, removing his hands from the girl. She looks at you with furrowed brows, clearly unhappy that his attention is currently on you.

“Fuck you,” you spit at Jungkook, the entire area going silent.

“Woah what the fuck,” Yoongi says from behind you, grabbing your arm in the process of his words. You realized that he followed you and it only makes you more pissed off, jerking out of his light grip. Jungkook looks more than confused, pushing the girl off of him; perhaps that was the reason you were mad?

He stands up only a couple feet away from you now—“Y/N what’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“What’s wrong?!” You step forward, not caring how much attention the two of you are drawing your way. “What’s wrong?!” You repeat, “First you can’t keep your fucking dick in your pants and now you can’t shut your fucking mouth?!”

“Y/N, let’s not do this here,” Yoongi chimes in again, trying to pull you away from the situation but you once again ignore him.

“What are you talking about? Y/N I really don’t—“

“Fuck you,” you say again, “I fucking hate you.” Once again—you don’t mean it but you felt the need to cut deep. Blame it on the booze—you couldn’t care less.

Jungkook steps forward grabbing your forearms, “Baby please I don’t know what you’re talking about, what’s wrong? We can go talk?” Jungkook was rambling at this point. Everything had been fine between the two of you—the best it’s been since your breakup—why were you so mad?

“I’m so fucking done with you after tomorrow,” you look at the band who sits there in disbelief about what has just transpired.

You walk away from their group, all eyes on you, anger spilling out of you unable to stop it. Jungkook calls after you but after your frame disappears, he’s never felt more confused and heartbroken in his entire life.

Namjoon raises an eyebrow towards Jungkook before pinching the bridge of his nose, speaking for the first time, “Well that was cheerful.”

_____

Jungkook woke up the next morning not feeling great—slightly hungover, his head heavy from the booze and heavy on you. After the outburst you had last night in front of the band, he found himself heavily drinking to drown out his uncertainty about what happened. For once in his life, he cannot for the life of him figure out what he did. Normally he could step back and tell himself, ‘okay, you did X, Y, Z which is why Y/N is upset’. This time—he had no clue.

To make it all worse—today was the day. The band competition was in less than 12 hours and Jungkook was unsure if you would actually show up for them today. You obviously were pissed beyond belief at him, which in turn jeopardizes Whailen 52’s show tonight. You were carrying a lot of weight for his band tonight and if you didn’t show out—it was going to be his fault.

“Man, I just don’t know what I did,” Jungkook inhales from the joint deeply, holding in the smoke as long as he could before exhaling. He passes it over to Yoongi, who eyes him suspiciously. A hangover wasn’t anything Jungkook couldn’t solve with a morning bake. He ended up crashing on Yoongi’s couch last night, too drunk to make it home by himself or with that girl he was with. What was her name again?

“I want to believe you Kook,” Yoongi inhales, “But given your track record…” he laughs while blowing the smoke away from the two of them.

“Hyung I’m not fucking lying,” the younger snaps, “I just don’t know why she always feel the need throw things up in my face without actually talking to me about it first,” he shakes his head, looking out over the small balcony of Yoongi’s apartment. It was a chilly day, the sun barely out—a great representation of Jungkook’s mood.

“Maybe because that’s what your relationship was?” Yoongi inhales once more before passing the joint back over. Jungkook stares at Yoongi with a heightened gaze, bringing the paper up to his lips. “I’m just saying,” he pauses, “You guys were younger and stupid, you would do something, she would do something and you two would instantly jump to conclusions without communicating.”

Jungkook hangs his head low, slightly nodding his head into agreement. Miscommunication was the root of many of yours and Jungkook’s problems in the relationship. Perhaps that’s bleeding over to whatever you are now.

“How can I fix it,” Jungkook mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

Yoongi watches his younger peer with a stoic expression. You and Jungkook were probably the two most stubborn people he knew—whatever was going to get you both straight—he didn’t have the answer.

“Do you want to be with her? Still?” He raises an eyebrow at Jungkook, who only gives Yoongi a glance from the side of his large eyes. It’s all the answer Yoongi needs. “Give her some time Kook, I don’t know how much… I mean give yourself some time too man. She’s been really unfair to you the past few months.”

“Because I fucking cheated on her—“

“Jungkook you can’t keep punishing yourself about that,” Yoongi interrupts, “If you truly want to be with her again, you have to forgive yourself and she has to forgive herself for the things she did to you.”

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans. He needed to talk to you before the show tonight. With so many wrongs, he wasn’t sure if he could make things right, but he had to try.

____

Your phone had not stopped buzzing from the moment you woke up this morning. Texts from friends and some family wishing you and your band good luck later tonight. You had a few texts from your band in the group chat, a few from Jimin (you were actively ignoring him at the moment), a few from Min Yoongi, and unsurprisingly, Jeon Jungkook (who you were also actively ignoring). With the amount of nerves bubbling in your veins today, you did not have the energy to deal with the people pinging you this morning.

Thankfully there was no sign of a hangover as you started to go about your morning. Lisa didn’t come home last night, opting to go sleep with one of her fuck buddies instead. She had yet to show face this morning and if she isn’t here by noon, that’s when maybe you would consider calling the police.

In the height of all your thoughts, stress cleaning your kitchen, a sudden knock on your door knocks you from your reverie. Guess you wouldn’t be calling the police after all. But why would Lisa just not come in? Did she forget her key?

You swing open the door, your eyes quickly scanning up a chest that is simply too big to be female. When you make eye contact, your jaw clenches and like instinct, you begin to slam to door back shut.

“Y/N, wait!—“ his hand slams down on the door, stopping you from closing it on his face. He’s too strong for you so you stop fighting, deciding to kick him out in a nicer fashion.

“What do you want Jungkook?” You stand in the threshold, crossing your arms over your chest to block him from coming in. “Are you high?” You push, noticing the whites of eyes a little too pink to be normal.

“Coming down,” he mutters. You roll your eyes about to shut the door again until he starts to speak, “Y/N we need to talk. I-I don’t know what I did and I don’t want you mad at me—I feel like we were finally getting somewhere,” he pauses running a panicked hand through his hair, “I wanna fix this—us—I get that we’re not perfect but I want this shit behind us, so please just let me come in.”

The straight look on your face doesn’t help him in anyway, but when you step aside to let him come in, he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Five minutes,” you warn as you shut the door behind you two.

“Y/N I just wanna say whatever you’re upset about—I’m sorry,” he doesn’t waste anytime, “I just don’t know what I did—I thought everything was good? And then you came up last night and I just genuinely didn’t know what you were talking about… and I didn’t want you to think I was belittling you by not knowing I just—“

“Jungkook stop,” you interrupt him letting out a deep breath. His desperation tells you that he seems to be telling the truth, though it still doesn’t ease your frustration against him. “You know who came up to me last night?”

He shakes his head, desperate for answers.

“Fucking Mingyu,” you spit angrily. Suddenly his expression falls, a pit opening up in his chest.

“Y/N—“

“No Jungkook—no,” you pause; you weren’t going to cry but you felt like you could if you let your walls down, “Not only did he spill to everyone that I was helping you guys out, he threw up my own father’s death in my fucking face.”

Jungkook’s mouth parts, his jaw clenching slightly. Truthfully, him and Mingyu had grown apart in the last few months, only catching up if they saw each other out. The last time they spoke, Jungkook did mention you were helping Whailen out which Mingyu scoffed at but he figured he couldn’t care less. Mingyu’s band was already bigger than Violet or Whalien—why would he care? Hearing that he said something to you about your dad doesn’t sit well with him. No matter how famous your father was in the music industry, it’s no ones place to bring it up.

“Holy shit, Y/N I’m so sorry I didn’t—“

“Jungkook you know that I’m doing this as a favor for Yoongi,” it somewhat cuts Jungkook through the chest to hear that he had no apparent weight in your decision, “But only Lisa knew and he brought it up in front of Jimin and I just—“ you stop, a lump forming in your throat. You had yet to explain yourself to him and you weren’t sure how you were going to.

“Y/N I’m sorry,” he pauses, unsure of what to say, “Honestly Mingyu and I aren’t that close anymore—I talk to him maybe a couple times a month now… when we were together I didn’t pay attention or care enough to pay attention to how shitty he was to you. And then after we broke up he would say the most horrible things about you and I just wasn’t having it—I’m so sorry I feel like he was probably doing in it spite of me because I told him to fuck off when it came to you, fuck no wonder you’re mad I—“

He stops to catch his breath, his eyes wandering away from yours. You feel the tense bite of your jaw loosening, your shoulders slacking, your defense mechanisms falling. You were smart enough to acknowledge your strengths—being self aware one of your prides—but you could also admit your flaws—and jumping to conclusions was something you were still working on fixing. Had you really gotten this so wrong? You suddenly felt stupid, like a child throwing a temper tantrum because someone said something that you didn’t like.

“Is that true?” You ask, though already knowing the answer. Jungkook notices the small look in your eyes, looking unsure and insecure about the situation.

“Yes, god,” he steps forward, his hands wrapping around your arms, squeezing you reassuringly, “Y/N I shouldn’t have said anything and I’m sorry for that,” he pauses, “Everyone was going to find out eventually but it wasn’t my place to say anything. I really am so sorry.”

You end up cracking a small smile, laughing to yourself for a moment. Jungkook looks at you confused, muttering a what.

“Stop apologizing,” you say looking up at his full stature. His head was a few inches from yours and you could faintly smell remnants of his cologne. “I should apologize to you—and the guys—fuck I’m such a bitch—“

“No, no you’re not,” he says, “Short tempered? That’s another thing,” his lips form into a small smile and you can’t help but roll your eyes, pushing his chest away from you slightly.

“Are they mad at me?” You ask referring to his band. You wouldn’t blame them if they were considering you pretty much told them all to fuck off last night.

He shakes his head some, “No I think they were just confused like me,” he laughs again and you throw your head back, letting out a groan. You really couldn’t catch a fucking break. And yourself was to blame for part of that. You make a mental note to bring it up to your therapist next session.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,” you finally say, stepping away from his frame some. He was so… large these days. It was intimidating. He doesn’t say anything, only watching as you somber over and throw yourself on your couch, stretching your legs out on the sectional with a groan.

He follows you a few moments after, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch, a silence falling over you two. You turn on your side, your eyes immediately meeting his again. His gaze isn’t heavy, but he’s a look on his face you can’t read. Then again, you weren’t necessarily good at reading him anyway.

“Have you talked to them yet?” He suddenly asks. It takes you a second to understand what he’s asking about.

“No,” you mutter, “I didn’t want them to be angry.”

He visibly swallows, “Don’t you think they’d get more mad if you don’t talk to them?”

You don’t answer him immediately, knowing he’s right.

“I care about him too much,” with your mention of a him, Jungkook knows exactly who you are talking about. Jimin.

“I know,” he mumbles, unsure of how he should feel. On one hand, he despises Jimin—hates that he was the person you ran to betray him all those months ago. On the other, Jimin is in your band and has known you longer than Jungkook has… as long as Jungkook wanted you in his life—Park Jimin was going to be there too.

“You should fucking hate me,” you mumble curling into yourself further into the couch.

“And you should fucking hate me,” he responds with wit. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can sense his raised eyebrows, lips tight in a straight line.

“I don’t,” you say honestly. It was the exact opposite. He knew that. You knew that—you weren’t even trying to lie to yourself anymore.

You look back over to Jungkook, who is looking down at your coffee table aimlessly. Pursing your lips, your push yourself up, crawling over to his frame. He watches you curiously as you throw a leg over his lap to straddle him. You now have the power as he stares up at you, studying your face intensely. You bring a hand up to his throat catching him off guard, raising a single eyebrow at you.

“I don’t hate you,” you say, “I hate how you’re good at everything. I hate how you always know what to say. I hate that you cheated on me. I hate how you make feel sometimes.”

Your fingers dig into his throat some but he doesn’t seem to mind as he takes your grilling. His stares at your neck, trying to keep his composure beneath you. His heart rate had picked up the second you flopped yourself on his lap. He wasn’t sure what your motive was, but he would give in to anything you wanted.

“And I hate how much I fucking love you,” you whisper this time, dropping your gaze along with your hand, noticing the redness against his skin. Before your hand reaches your lap—he grabs your wrist tightly, making your eyes flick back up to his. His chocolate eyes have darkened to a near black. He’s chewing on his bottom lip slowly before his other hand comes up, wrapping itself around your throat this time. You freeze on top of him with your breathing picking up heavily.

He brings your head to his, his forehead against yours, his nose brushing against your own. His fingers press into your throat, a small whine for air coming through your lips. You shift against him, trying to create some space between you two but he’s strong—and he’s not letting you go anywhere.

“Is it my turn now?” He breathes heavily against your mouth and you try your best to swallow easily, but with his grip it has become more difficult. You look at him confused, a small “hm?” emerging from your chest. “To tell you all about my hatred for you?” His voice is low, barely above a whisper at this moment.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. You’re surprised you’ve held on for this long, not giving into his motions. Chest to chest, breath to breath, you manage a hand on his chest, bundling some of his sweatshirt together. With all your strength, you push him back into the couch, his hand leaving your throat, your actions slightly startling him.

One hand pinning him against his chest, one by his head, “Be my fucking guest.”

It’s all he needs to do what you’ve been wanting him to do for weeks now. His grip tightens around your waist and ass, pulling you down to close the gap between the two of you. Of all the people you’ve kissed in your lifetime, his lips were your favorite by far. His lips—oh his soft lips that haven’t changed from when you first met him at 18. Sometimes they tend to be more chapped than others, but they’ve always molded against yours so heavenly.

Both of you are equally tugging and pulling against each other, holding each other close, mouths entangled with one another. His tongue melts into your mouth, his hands squeezing your ass to push you further into his own pelvis. A whine escapes from your mouth when you pull away to catch your breath. He doesn’t let you rest long, his hand coming back up to your throat to bring your mouths together once again. You two hadn’t kissed in weeks—the last being in his studio which wasn’t planned and didn’t end how you expected it. Ending your mutual toxic occasional fucking was needed, but ending your relationship with Jungkook was hard and right now—you’re not sure why you had made that decision.

A deep groan emits from his lips, “Here,” he pauses, holding your face steady in one hand, “Or your room?”

Knowing Lisa could walk in any minute, you decide on the latter. Once in your room, Jungkook takes no time in discarding your clothes piece by piece. He sucks and nips at all angles of your neck and collarbones as he shoves you against your door. He’s being rough, but you weren’t opposed to it. In fact, it just made your panties all the more damp between your legs.

His actions turn slightly smoother when his lips reach yours again. His kissing sweet and gentle, the built up pining for each other spewing out in passionate bursts of energy. Feeling handsy, you push his sweatshirt up with him finishing slipping it off himself. His eyes are dark as you both take a few moments to just stare at one another.

He licks his lips, pressing his forehead against yours. Again, he grabs you by the throat, forcing your eyes to met his. Desperate to feel them again, but he holds his lips back mere inches from yours.

“I hate how you always jump to conclusions,” he whispers deeply and you can’t help but fight the urge to smile some.

“Is that it?” You raise your brow in response, cheekily enough to where it clearly irks him on the surface. He kisses you again, this time a little more rough and you gladly swallow all of him. Feeling bold and knowing it’s nothing you haven’t done before, you reach down to his pants, caressing the outside of his clothed cock. It’s already plump and swelled when you feel it, but you only get a few strokes in before Jungkook’s hand is swatting you away.

In a sudden motion, he turns you around, pushing your chest up against your door. You turn your cheek against the cold surface as he presses his body close to yours. With you trapped against the door and between his strong body, a small pathetic whine comes from you when you feel his hardened cock pressing into your ass.

“I hate how you slept with Jimin behind my back,” he nips at the section of your neck that’s exposed to him, his voice sharp and punctual with his words. You try your best to push off the door, but he’s too strong.

He rolls his hips into your ass, “Jungkook,” you whimper as he continues to kiss at your sensitive skin all the way from your neck, down to your exposed collarbone, and slowly across your upper back. Your nipples are hard against the cold surface and it only makes you more restless. To get back at him some, after he presses himself into you once more, you push your ass back which earns you a small groan from him.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes heavily, “I missed you so much.”

He speaks honestly and you can’t help the quick and desperate nodding you give him.

“Me too.”

He’s quick to let up some pressure on your frame to which you take the opportunity to turn back around, your hands gripping at the sides of his face to bring him in for a deep kiss. It was so hard not to give yourself to this man. He had broken your heart more than once, but he was always there to piece it back together. He was your catharsis and you weren’t sure if anyone else could fill the void that desperately needed to be filled.

“I hate how I can’t keep myself from you,” he breaks the kiss, taking you by your forearms, pulling you along until you are perched on his lap on the edge of your bed. Your room is chilly but with your naked chests pressed up against each other, his body was warm and comfortable. He was like your own personal strain of heroin—addicting and warm, getting you so high that you didn’t need anything else.

“Anything else?” You quirk your lips looking down at his beautiful face and hair that you’ve tousled in the process of making out.

He licks his lips slowly, his eyes weak and hazy. He’s obviously tired, coming down from the high hitting hard, but with you keeping himself hard, it was something he could push past.

“Baby I have a whole list,” he smirks, his hands rubbing calming circles on your skin. You push yourself harder onto his lap, wretchedly trying to feel his length. He moves slightly, pressing himself up into you sending chill bumps down your spine. You roll again, which sends him tilting his head back.

“Shit, stop that Y/N.”

You act like you don’t hear his remark, rolling your hips against him again. A shutter escapes your mouth when his hard cock brushes against your clothed clitoris. You needed more—you hated the space between you two. You needed his hands, his mouth, his pink tip—whatever to just to be close to your opening. He tries to hold you in place so you can’t move anymore, but he’s falling weak as you continue to grind down on him.

You are too occupied to notice how tight his grip has gotten on you, his heavy breathing dark and languid. You squeal when you are suddenly flipped over, Jungkook’s thick body pinning you down to your mattress.

“I said fucking stop,” he groans into your neck as he begins his journey to pull down your silky sleep shorts. To his surprise, you’re not wearing any underwear and the sight makes him lick his lips, biting the flesh every so slightly.

“I hate how you don’t fucking listen,” he pushes into the meat of your thighs, his large hands spreading you apart. Your back involuntarily arches the closer he gets to your dripping center. He hasn’t even touched you yet you could take him so well. All it takes is one lick, two kitten licks of his tongue before a sigh comes out of you.

Jungkook loves the way you taste. Anytime he eats you out, he treats it like it’s his last—afraid that his personal skittle, so sweet and delicate in the middle would recede far away. His mouth opens and closes in different motions, some slow and wide, other fast and close together. You grip his hair harshly, pushing his face down into your hole deeper, his nose brushing against your sensitive bud every once in a while.

You’re squirming at this point, your chest rising unevenly and Jungkook can tell your close. Your small whines make it hard for him to stay quiet, he himself mulling into your wet pussy. His hips buck into your mattress trying to find some pressure relief for himself.

“Fuck Jungkook,” your voice is louder than you were expecting, his tongue taking your breath away, “I’m gonna c-come,” you warn.

His eyes are dark as they look up at you, his tongue focusing on your sensitive bud to send you over the edge. Your hips begin to rise, your mouth falling open and eyes closing shut as he almost sends you off the cliff. With a few more licks to go to send you to a high you need to go, all of his movements stop. Your eyes fly open, down to the spot in between your legs, dumbfounded at his actions.

“What the f—“

“Baby’s been so mean,” he crawls back up to you, his sweatpants now hanging lower than ever, his happy trail out leading to your happy place. “I don’t think she deserves to come yet,” the way he slightly degrades you in 3rd person sends you in a spiral.

“Yes, yes, yes she does Kook, please,” you hold his face gently as you chase a kiss. He obliges, letting you taste yourself from him. He manages to shimmy out of the rest of his pants, revealing he’s not wearing any underwear either, his tip grazing across your entrance just waiting to be sucked in.

He smirks against you as he pulls away, allowing you to look at his sculpted body in all its glory. His chest is broad, his abdominals carved to perfection, his v line going right where you need him most. He cock is such a good size, just the right length and girth. His thick thighs are halfway straddling you as he reaches over into your nightstand to pull out a condom. You watch him skillfully rip open the package and put it on in less than 15 seconds, beyond ready to have your pussy stretched out.

He rubs your entrance with his tip, holding himself up with one arm by your head. Neither of you are looking at each other, too enthralled with the way he puts his juicy pink tip in, only to pull it out after some shallow thrusts.

You’re about to push your hips to hurry the process but before you can, you’re suddenly flipped over, ass in the air and your back pushed down into your mattress.

“Oh fuck!—“ your breath is taken away as Jungkook quickly finds his way into your tight walls, a deep groan emitting from him.

“Oh god—shit,” he breathes, shoving himself as deep as he can go, one hand keeping your back down against the sheets. You feel tears stinging your eyes as he stretches you full, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you.

“Jungkook please move—”

“Fuck baby you’re so tight though… always so fucking tight just for me right?”

You mewl, head nodding in your sheets, “Yes yes, only for you baby—please move Jungkook,” you’re begging with tears, your pussy throbbing against his length.

Jungkook shifts slightly to a more comfortable position, one hand gripping your waist to hold you against him tightly, the other falling against your neck to keep your torso down. Hesitantly, he pulls out some, jerking his hips right back into the deepest parts of your insides. You swear you feel him pressing into your gut and it leaves you breathless.

“I hate,” he pulls out again a little more, “How fucking,” he slams his hips back, “Needy you always were,” he groans as he begins a steady pace in and out of you. Your moans are becoming louder and louder as he snap of his hips are harder than the last. His words go completely over your head, too intoxicated by his thick cock moving against your walls.

“Oh fuck,” you are face down into your pillows at this point, headboard clanking against the wall. He watches your small frame keeping heavy tempo, watching his dick move in and out of your slick center. It’s obscene, sending his head backwards as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit baby,” he breathes out heavily, “Look at me,” he commands.

You do your best, turning your head on your cheek, your eyes meeting his swiftly. It’s hard to hold his gaze in this position with your head buried in your pillow, but you manage. Jungkook leans forward on one hand, his chest grazing your back, his lips hovering above your right ear.

“Jungkook,” you say, hardly able to breath under his weight as he keeps his hips snapping deep within your walls. He stops momentarily, slowing down to watch your face contort as he hits the spot in you that you desperately needed relief to.

“Pretty girl,” he kisses the exposed skin on your shoulder with an open mouth, “My pretty girl… does she wanna come?”

You nod quickly into the sheets, unable to hold his gaze as he reaches under you to circle your clit. You jerk in his hold, still sensitive from moments ago, even more so when he suddenly bites down on your skin harshly.

“Ah!” Your half-scream is muffled as he continues his contradicting motions of fast hips yet steady pace of his thumb on your clitoris. He’s always been your best and it never takes long when he’s fucking you. You turn your head once again for some air, pushing yourself up on your elbows as best as you can, knowing your glorious orgasm is fast approaching.

“Jungkook—fuck I’m gonna, come,” your breathy moans makes Jungkook’s cock impossibly harder inside you. There was no way he was going to last long at this point. He wanted to make you feel good and fall apart over him—he fucking lived for it.

You fall apart in his grip, your body losing tension as you fall back into your pillows. You’re clenching around his dick in random spurts, Jungkook’s own moans becoming deep and short, as if he’s trying to hold them in. He only continues to pound into you from behind a few more strokes as he lets you ride out your orgasm. You’re squirming underneath him as its becoming all too sensitive, but you know it could easily turn into another one soon if you pushed through.

Abruptly, he pulls completely out of you. You push yourself back up, looking over your shoulder—“Jungkook?—“

You’re cut off when he grabs you, hands around your waist and tummy, flipping you around so you’re now completely on your back. He loved throwing you around like a rag dog and you obviously let him. In public, you were always the one wearing the pants in your relationship—in the bedroom though, it was completely opposite. You figured that out all those years ago when you first got with him.

The two of you make eye contact at the same time, making your nipples pebble from a chill. The atmosphere shifts in your small room. The tension is dense and you’re unsure of his next move. He runs his tongue inside his mouth, before biting his lip in contemplation. You’ve now fully recovered from your orgasm, your legs already spread for him to come back, but he keeps his gaze locked on yours.

“Scoot back,” he commands softly. You do exactly as you are told, scooting on your elbows, your head falling back on the plush pillow. His face his blushed a soft pink as he quickly follows, positioning himself between your legs comfortably.

He grabs his still harden cock with his tattooed hand, lining it back up with you. You push your hips up and out to ease him in slowly. A gasp escapes both your lips as he slides in inch my inch, his forehead descending against your own.

“Fuck,” he closes his eyes tightly, sucking his bottom lip in as he starts to move in painfully slow thrusts. Nonetheless, he’s still hitting you hard and deep enough for you to keen into him, profanities and moans tumbling out every few seconds.

Your insides are hot and slick and Jungkook feels himself edging closer and closer to his own orgasm. Between the sounds coming from both pairs of your lips, he cannot help himself become overwhelmed in your presence. He knows it’s you—it’s always been you. No one would ever compare to how you make him feel. He doesn’t know why he fucked another girl when he had you waiting at home—arguing or not. He shuts his eyes tightly as a particularly loud moan emits from your mouth, trying to shut out his thoughts too in the process.

He maneuvers your left leg up around his waist so he can feel the deepest parts of your insides.

You’ve now built up a sweat, Jungkook too as both of you focus on pleasuring each other for as long as possible. Above you, Jungkook looks like an angel as he drops to his elbows, nuzzling his head into the crook of your shoulder. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him to pull him closer as he pace against you picks back up. He’s close—his heavy, uneven breathing in your ear being the indicator. You weren’t sure if you were going to come again, but honestly you didn’t mind. All you cared about was helping Jungkook get there, wanting him to come deep inside of you, pushing his come in and out of you as he rides out his high. The thought makes you even wetter, your pussy pulsing around him as his breaths continue to shorten.

Your train of thought is broken when you suddenly feel a wetness appear—dropping—onto the bare skin of your shoulder. You hear a muffled whine coming from Jungkook and you nudge him slightly, one of your hands flying down to his hip to stop his motions.

“Jungkook?” You whisper… was he crying? He fights against your palm as he tries to continue his pace, his face still buried beside yours. “Guk—baby—“

“Fucking stop—“ he groans almost angrily as he pushes himself up to look down at you. You were right—his eyes were stained with tears, pink and slightly swollen around the edges.

“Jungkook,” you push yourself up on your elbows, his hard cock still inside you as he stills his motions, “What’s wrong? Baby, what’s wrong?” You grab onto his face gently, bringing him back down with you.

He doesn’t look at you, keeping his gaze down at your chest. He shakes his head slightly, a tear dropping down on your skin.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he starts to thrust in and out of you again. Your hands relax against his face as pleasure again seeps through your veins. “Fuck—Y/N—“ he pauses, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry—“

His forehead falls against yours, finally looking you in the eyes. He’s fighting a battle in his head and you’re confused at his words until he speaks again.

“I’m so sorry,” he manages as his orgasm is just right there on the horizon, “For ever—everything,” he says, his voice trailing off and breathy.

“Jungkook come inside—please,” you beg, holding him close, your lips grazing his as he thrusts upward each time, “Come on baby, please come for me, it’s okay—“

“Ah—ah!” he stutters as he finally finds his sweet release, shoving his hips as far up as you’ll let him. You push your hips out to help him ride out his high, the sounds from his mouth sending you squirming beneath him looking for another release.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes out as he sits up, about to pull out but you grab his wrist before he can.

“Keep it in me, please,” you beg from the tip of your tongue and he nods eagerly. Both of you watch as his penis pushes back inside you. His tip catches over your clit and you jerk beneath him. He does it against experimentally and when a moan falls from your lips. It only takes a minute or two before you come again from his rubbing and despite Jungkook’s oversensitivity—he does it for you. He wants to please you and only you.

Exhausted, Jungkook falls halfway against your frame; one leg and an arm thrown around you, the other half of his body lay flat beside you, his face down in your pillow. You too are now tired, the mattress beneath you calling you in for a nap but with Jungkook right here, you disobey.

“Jungkook,” you nails scratch against his dark purple hair. He keens into your touch, but doesn’t say anything. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head again but this time open his eyes to meet yours. You can only imagine how you look from this angle having to scrunch your neck to properly look down at him. He doesn’t care though, only seeing you for what you are; beautiful and like no one else he’s ever met.

You think he’s about to tear up again as his bottom lip quivers ever so slightly. Jungkook’s about to push himself away from you too embarrassed to look at you, but when you pull him impossibly closer to settle between your legs again, he feels himself calm down some. It still doesn’t change the heavy heart in his chest as he looks down at you. You lean up, indicating what you what and he obliges, kissing you gently.

Your mouths move slowly and synchronously. His weight falls back on you as your head pushes down in your plush pillow, one of his hands caressing your face gently as he fights to pull away.

“I’m sorry for everything,” he barely whispers breaking your kiss to speak. He kisses you again and you hold onto the wrist of that hand that’s caressing your face.

“Jungkook—“

“We had it so good,” his voice breaks off, “And I had to fucking ruin it.”

You furrow your eyebrows, a heavy feeling replacing the lightheartedness that was remnant from your orgasms.

“Jungkook, no,” you shake your head slightly. You were somewhat lying to make him feel better—but you also ruined it too. You could tell he was fighting himself internally about the situation. For months both of you had been fighting yourselves for different things but your relationship was a common denominator.

“I loved you so much,” he sighs out heavily, “I still love you—I don’t know why I did what I did,” he shakes his head angrily at himself, “I wanted everything with you—our dreams, a family—“ he stops himself abruptly.

While he’s not outwardly saying exactly what he did—you know exactly what he is referring to. The painful memories dig a hole in your chest, the shovel piercing your lungs with each blow. The two of you talked for so long about making it big together—eloping off whenever the time was right down the line—having babies—it was what you longed for. You feel your own tears begin to prick in the corners of you eyes, your lip quivering as you inhale a deep breath.

Jungkook is quick to notice, holding onto the left side of your face gently as you bring your two hands up to hold his face close to yours.

“Fuck,” you finally let out some of your anguish, tears rolling down the side of your cheek and on the pillow.

“There isn’t a day that goes go by where I regret everything,” he speaks again, wiping tears with his thumb. “I think about you every second, of every day, and I blame myself for how much I hurt you—“

“Guk stop,” you interrupt him, meeting his intense gaze. His weight was heavy on top of you but nothing was heavier than your heart was feeling. “Please stop blaming yourself—“

“How can I not Y/N?” His tone changes to a slightly defensive one, rolling off your body in the process leaving you a lot colder than before. He lays on his back beside you, staring up at the ceiling as he lets out a deep sigh to control anymore tears from flowing, “If I hadn’t of cheated on you—we wouldn’t be here doing this. Fighting and fucking, pretending to be just friends—“

“Jungkook stop,” you reinforce this time, setting yourself up on an elbow to gaze down at him, “Please stop this, I fucked up just as bad as you and I regret it every fucking day,” you pause again as a sob escapes your lips. Jungkook gaze softens when he sees how broken you are, pulling your body over to his, head resting on his chest.

He lets you quietly cry into his bare chest, his own pit growing deeper than ever in his chest. He’s not sure now is the right time to say what he wants to say, but at this point, he doesn’t care.

“I’m sick of this Y/N,” he says in a whisper, caressing the hair behind your head as you nuzzle into him, your whole body freezing from his words. What’s he going to say? You let out a noise that his representative of a hm before he continues.

“Baby I love you so much,” he forces you to look at him, holding your head in place. Thankfully you had stopped crying, only looking a little tired now. “I will never stop loving you despite everything,” he pauses, “I mean this from my fucking soul Y/N—please, please, can we just stop this and do it for real…”

Your breath halts in the back of your throat as you let out a small gasp. Your mouth goes dry, hands clammy against his bare chest as you push yourself up slowly. A look of panic strikes across his features as he thinks you’re getting up to leave—to run away from him—all over again. His face relaxes when you stay perched on his torso, legs straddling either side of his muscular body, the smallest smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Jungkook…” you finally speak after a couple moments of silence, his thumbs rubbing at the skin where your hip folds in your position. “I don’t—“ you pause, unsure of what to say. You don’t what?

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it Y/N,” his tone is patient, as if he’s walking on eggshells to test the waters in your response.

You let out a deep breath, your eyes wandering around your room aimlessly. Subconsciously your nails are grazing his chest as you ponder. He’s right once a-fucking-gain; you had thought about it. Nearly everyday since you two broke up. You thought about it when you were sucking another guys cock. You thought about it when another guy was balls deep inside of you. You dreamed about it on a nightly basis. Being with Jungkook was the happiest times of your life thus far. You betrayed each other though—in the worst ways possible—and you were afraid that guilt would never go away and the trust would never come back. It’s why you have had to keep him at an arms length, only using him when you liked—because he had proved you wrong in every scenario since. You wanted your thoughts about Jungkook to be negative—to keep you in that place so you wouldn’t seem like the girl who crawled back to her cheating ex. However, as each day passes on without Jungkook in your life in the way you know he’s supposed to be—you couldn’t care less if you looked that to way to other people.

“Baby say something,” he interrupts your thoughts, snapping you back down to reality. Your eyes meet his chocolate ones; so big and full of life. Jungkook pushes himself up, maneuvering to fully sit up as he continues to hold onto you closely. Your noses brush against each other as he grabs the side of your neck tenderly. You needed Jungkook in more ways than one—but first and foremost, you needed time.

“I love you too Jungkook,” you nod, your words true to your heart, “But—“ Jungkook tenses up beneath you, “I need to think about it… with everything going on, I just need to figure my shit out.”

It’s not the answer Jungkook was hoping for. He stares at you, somewhat lifeless, his heart crushing in his chest. Of course he understands where you’re coming from—after all he was the one to originally pull away those weeks ago in his practice studio. He’s always been a little selfish—a lot fucking selfish—too greedy for his own fucking good. His greed is what lead him to make idiotic choices that turned into lifetime regrets, but this time—he wasn’t going to let greed get the best of him.

“Okay.”

You were expecting him to fight you, but his answer makes you so content you almost regret not jumping all over him again—making him yours again. You restrain though, knowing that he’s respecting your decision to which you are thankful for. If this was going to be on your time, you knew what you needed to do. You were scared that he wouldn’t wait for you forever, but the way he holds you close despite everything—tells you otherwise.

Neither one of you say anything else—unsure of what to say or how to say anything else at this point. It was clear—the two of you wanted to work it out and get back together and you weren’t going to take advantage of him anymore.

It wasn’t long after when you found yourself showering the mess you made off of each other. The innocence didn’t last long when he ends up making you come one more time around his cock, convulsing until he does the same. He makes sure to dry you off gently, skin still sensitive from his touches. He nuzzles into your neck, wrapping his strong arms around your towel covered front.

“Goddamit, Jungkook.”

“What?” He asks, eyes wide and scared he’s done something wrong.

“Your hair,” you can’t help but laugh as you watch the purple hair dye droplets fall onto your collarbone and down to the white fluffy towel wrapped around you.

He chuckles with you, muttering a sorry before grabbing another towel himself to dry his hair. You roll your eyes at his actions, knowing that you were definitely going to have to bleach the fabric a couple times to remove the purple haze. You watch him with domestic eyes, his muscles contracting and relaxing as he moves around your tiny bathroom. This was too real to keep putting up a wall. You couldn’t crack right now though—tonight was the most important night of your life.

The two of you make it back to your room and Jungkook quickly gets dressed in the clothes he came here in. You follow suit, slipping into another pair of shorts and a sweatshirt for the time being. Unable to control yourself, you saunter over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He returns your hug quickly, resting his head on your own.

“I’m sorry Jungkook,” you mutter into his chest, “I’ve been so horrible to you—“

“Don’t say that,” he replies and he feel him shaking his head, “I forgive you Y/N… I’m ready to move forward whenever you are.”

You smile into his chest, butterflies piling up into your stomach. You’re about to respond but your moments of warmth and bliss are interrupted when you hear the front of your apartment door open. You know immediately that it’s Lisa but your stomach drops when you hear two other voices behind her. Jimin and Hoseok.

“I should go,” Jungkook murmurs as he pulls away from you. You only give him a nod, preparing yourself for the worst as soon as you two walk out of your room.

Your three bandmates are chattering aimlessly around the small dining room table until you appear with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

“Oh Jesus,” Lisa mutters when she sees the sight. Given yours and Jungkook’s wet hair, the three of them have to know exactly what just went down between you him. Fuck.

“H-hey,” you greet your band with a grimace, turning over your shoulder to look up at Jungkook’s pretty face, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s not looking at you as he nods, his gaze focused on the three sets of eyes at stare at you and him. He finds his way out of your apartment, leaving you standing alone a few feet away from your band. You hang your head low, shuffling your feet against the floor to sit down with them at your 4-person table.

“Hey,” Hobi is the first one to speak after the painful silence, “We picked up Lisa this morning and wanted to check in on you after last night.”

“I think she’s doing just fine,” Lisa remarks snarlingly, crossing her arms over her chest as she sits back further into the seat.

“Lisa,” Jimin speaks this time as you roll your eyes.

“What?! You want to make a fucking a scene last night only to turn around and fuck the very guy you were mad at?”

“Fuck you Lisa,” you spit angrily knowing she doesn’t even know the full story. You understand where Jungkook’s temperament came from about you jumping to conclusions.

“Stop it—both of you,” Hobi chimes back in with annoyance lacing his tone, “We shouldn’t be fighting on days like today.”

“Well when the leader of our fucking band doesn’t act like a leader anymore, it’s fucking exhausting,” she glances your way and you shift in your seat uncomfortably. Your leg bounces up and down uncontrollably.

“Jesus fuck did you—“

“No—Lisa’s right guys,” you sigh deeply, “I haven’t been myself the past couple months and I realized that I’ve taken out my anger on the people I care about the most.”

“Y/N,” Jimin says softly; gentle and kind, “But you with your dad and—“

“I can’t keep using that an excuse to hurt everyone around me, I’m even hurting myself by not taking any steps forward,” you finally have the courage to look up from your picked cuticles. You really should paint your nails before tonight. “I’m sorry I haven’t completely been here and I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you guys about helping Jungkook and his band.”

Jimin hangs his head low, a hand running through his hair as he contemplates what to say.

“I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me—“

“Lisa already told us Y/N,” Hobi says and you quickly give her a glare that resembles a ‘really?’.

“There was no point in trying to hide it,” she shrugs her shoulders aimlessly. You breathe in deeply, knowing she’s right. Who were you kidding? There was no point in hiding it. Jungkook was right, Lisa was right—everyone would find out eventually.

“I know,” you mutter, “I just—I didn’t want you guys to be upset with me. I’ve already been absent enough, I didn’t want it to seem like I was abandoning you.”

“I think I—we,” Jimin corrects himself, though you know he actually is referring to himself, “We were just more upset that you didn’t tell us. Yeah it sucks we gotta share you but it’s fine… really Y/N,” he continues and you can’t help but send him a small smile.

“You guys always come first, you know that right?” You reassure. Your dad always instilled in you—once you start something, you finish it. And Violet had a long way to go—quitting wasn’t an option for you.

“Hell yeah,” Hobi smiles, bumping your knee from under the table, “We wouldn’t be here without you babe.”

“Exactly,” Jimin smiles and he grabs your hand, squeezing it momentarily, “Hobi and I are gonna head out but we’ll see you guys later? We’re meeting around five, right?”

The four of you stand up and Hobi comes over to you, sweeping you up in a big hug. All the worries in the pit of your stomach suddenly go away as the room feels 10 times lighter than before. You don’t know why you were always so anxious about everything. You suppose you get it from your dad—always worried about what’s next or what’s going to happen or what will people think of me? At the end of the day, with these people around you who care about you so deeply—you have realized everything will be all right.

“We’re gonna kick Whailen ass tonight,” Jimin says to you, giving you a hug too before he leaves with Hoseok, “Mess up a couple chords if you’re feeling ballsy,” he gives you a wink and you can’t help but laugh at his statement. The thought had crossed your mind during practices with them—but you know in your heart you couldn’t do that to Jungkook, especially Yoongi—he would have you by the throat.

After your drummer and lead guitarist leave, the lighter atmosphere seems to have dissipated when you realize one thing. Lisa had barely spoken to you since she walked in. The way she walks past you and back into her room across the apartment says she’s clearly still upset with you.

“Lisa wait,” you call out, following her footsteps closely. She doesn’t answer you as she roams around her room, gathering what seems to be clothes and underwear to change into. “Are you really still mad at me?”

She drops what she is doing, crossing her arms with a huff, “I’m not mad at you Y/N, I’m just—“ she pauses running a hand through her dark hair, “You know you’re my best fucking friend. I don’t want you and Jungkook to keep crawling back to each other the way you are. It’s toxic and it’s hurting both of you.”

Your posture falls as you mimic her actions, your arms folding across your boobs, “I know,” you nod, “We talked about it this morning—“

“I think you two did more than talk,” she interjects.

You hide a smile, “Regardless—we agreed to work on our communication and move past whatever this is,” you wave your hand aimlessly, “He said he wants to try again.”

She tilts her head, “As in… like get back together?” She asks, a nod coming from your shortly after, “Well what did you say?”

“I said I needed time to think about it,” you shrug.

“Do you actually?”

Her question is somewhat loaded. The look in her big eyes tells you everything she’s thinking. She’s the one person you know—aside from family—who can read you like an open book.

“I don’t know,” you whine, “I just wanna get through tonight and then think about my fucked up love life okay?”

“I won’t argue with you on that,” she tsks,” Whatever is going to make you happy, I’m going to be happy for you. If that’s Jungkook then fine—it’s not my business… just learn from the past okay?”

You nod stepping forward some with your arms outreached. She returns your hug forcefully but lovingly. She’s been there for you since the beginning—it was time you trusted her fully.

“Alright, I gotta shower,” she breaks the hug.

“So you’re not mad at me?” You ask her with big eyes as she gathers her things up.

“No,” she smiles, taking a piece of your now damp-almost dried hair in her fingers, “You showered with Jungkook didn’t you?”

You feel heat rising to your cheeks, a short laugh emitting from you. You swat her hand away, “So what if I did?”

She narrows her eyes at you, slapping your thigh with the underwear in her other hand, “Because I would like to know if I might be stepping on Jungkook’s kids or not.”

You let out a cackle, making sure to flip her off on your way back to your room.

____

You were more nervous than usual. You had barely eaten anything all day, using coffee to suppress your appetite this in turn making you more jittery than normal. Your hands were clammy and your stomach was in knots. There was a lump in your throat and a weight in your chest as heavy as stone. You had probably changed outfits six times. You settled on something different from your usual affair with slips and converse opting for straight legged leather pants that laced up your hips and a cropped tank. Your lips were still painted your signature red, hair a little messy from anxiously running your hands over it so many times.

Violet was scheduled to be the 5th band to go on once the competition started. Whalien 52 was going to be the 8th, giving you a bit of a break before you had to step back out on stage. Each band was given 3 songs to present so you had exactly 6 to perform. Keeping the songs separate in your mind was easy, but actually going out to play the different chords was going to be more difficult. You realized that’s where most of your nerves was coming from—not from your band, but Whailen. You wanted to win, knowing Violet was the best band here, but you also couldn’t fuck up while playing with Whailen. They deserved their chance as much as you.

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, nudging your from your thoughts. In your heels you don’t have to look up at him, looking him directly in the eyes, “You okay?” He knew you were off the moment him and Hobi met up with you and Lisa.

“Just nervous is all,” you dismiss, “A little nauseous but it’ll fade.”

He nods once, throwing an arm around you to pull you closer to him. Currently you and him had wandered off away from your “dressing room” so to speak to check out the venue one last time before the show was to begin.

“I am too,” he says with a short laugh. You only give him a glance knowing that’s a shocker. Jimin was the one in your band who always held it together the best. Looking out at the masses of people gathering at the venue though, it was understandable. The competition was being held at an outside pavilion despite the chilliness being that it was the middle of fall now. You didn’t ask specifically how many people would be here, personally not wanting to know for your own sake, but you had heard close to 4,000. It would be the biggest show you’ve played in your career thus far.

Backstage was hectic with many sound technicians, electrical engineers, other people from bands checking out the audience filing in, and people from Geffen Records sauntering around frantically making sure everything was ready to go. You and Jimin decide on going back to your dressing room, not wanting to be in the way of everyone trying to do their job.

You walk back into the dressing room to find Lisa tweezing Hobi’s eyebrows which you take no surprise to. The sight amuses you, briefly making your forget about the task at hand.

“Lisa I swear to God if—“

“I’m not fucking up your pretty face Hobi I promise,” she remarks as he lets out a yelp of pain.

“When do we go on again?” He asks to no one in particular.

“Fifth,” you answer monotonously going over to your guitar case. You open it up, relaxing once you see the lavender Fender. You briefly considered choosing to play one of your dad’s guitars, but you knew that he would have wanted you to play the one you were most comfortable with.

“Do you guys wanna go—ouch!” Hobi jerks away from Lisa as she giggles, finally leaving his poor face alone, “Watch the others before we go on?” He finishes.

“Sure—“

“No—“

You and Jimin answer simultaneously, yours being the latter. You look over at Lisa who only shrugs, muttering she didn’t care or not.

“How about Hobi and I go watch the first couple and then we’ll come back and get you two? Maybe you should eat something Y/N… warm up your voice and stuff?” Jimin offers graciously.

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give them a small smile as they leave the dressing room, leaving you alone with Lisa. While Jimin’s words were kind, you definitely weren’t going to stomach any food right now that was for sure.

“Have you talked to Jungkook since earlier?”

“No,” you sink down into the small couch, slipping off your shoes for the time being. You meant your words—you had tunnel vision on the competition. Jungkook could wait. You feel around for your phone under your thighs when you feel it buzzing.

“Listen Y/N if it’s going to be too much to play with them, you know you don’t have to,” she offers as she sits down beside you, tucking her legs underneath her.

You give her a short glare, “It’s fine Lisa… I wouldn’t back out on them now.”

You open your phone after you have messages from a few people and a couple missed calls. The calls would have to wait to be returned. But the messages that catch your eye the most are from Jungkook and your mother.

You only faintly read Jungkook’s noticing a red heart at the end of his, focusing on the one from your mother.

[Mom 5:37 PM] Good luck tonight sweetie. Your dad would be so proud of you. I’m sorry I can’t be there, but we both will be in spirit.

You heart leaps. Your mom was not one to approve of your music endeavors as much as your father, so while the message isn’t much; it’s something.

“We got this Y/N,” Lisa grabs your knee, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You grab her hand tightly, knowing she’s been on this journey with you the longest. You know she’s just as nervous as you are the way her hand slightly shakes in yours. We got this.

Down the hall in another dressing room, sits Whailen 52 gathered together in silence. Taehyung was sat on his phone trying to distract himself with a game. Yoongi was relaxed on the couch, stretched out nonchalantly—probably the least nervous of everyone here. Jin was plucking his bass at random, making sure it was in perfect tune. Namjoon was there too; sat at a stool drumming with one stick in hand. Jungkook was sat on the opposite end of Yoongi, foot tapping up and down nervously. He was going between biting his nails and picking at the callouses on his hands. He felt sick. If he ever thought he was nervous before this show—those previous were nothing.

He glances at his phone. 5:57 PM. The first band is about to start after short introductions. Everyone could hear the crowd all the way back down these hallways. He hadn’t dared to wander around to see how many people were actually here. He refused to sike himself out before he even sat down behind the drum kit. Fuck, he thinks, he really wishes he was playing guitar tonight. He would feel a lot more confident than he does right now.

“Y/N and her band are going fifth,” Yoongi says aloud breaking the silence, “We should support her and go watch them…”

Jungkook looks around the room, big eyes waiting for someone else to respond. Namjoon speaks first; “Why?” He remarks.

“Did you seriously just ask that?” Yoongi mutters pinching in between his eyebrows, “He never fucking learns…” he says in a half whisper but Jungkook hears him clearly. “She texted me, she said she’d like us there.”

This—gets Jungkook’s attention. You were texting Yoongi? But not texting him? He pulls out his phone, immediately going straight to his messages with you. Did he overstep with you? Did he finally scare you away?

[Jungkook 4:13 PM] thank you for this morning. good luck tonight. i’ll see you later. ❤️

He shakes his head trying to not let him get to tied up in his intrusive thoughts. It was fine. If he was nervous, he couldn’t imagine how you were feeling. He would see you soon anyway. It was fine.

___

You were standing in the wings of the amphitheater, nerves coursing through your body like heroin convulsing through your veins. It was loud—too loud. The crowd was deafening. The fourth band finished their set to great applause and cheers. Perhaps you had underestimated just how good everyone here was. Lisa, Jimin, and Hobi were all feeling the same. Hobi stood behind you, drum sticks in hand jumping in place to ease some of his energy. Lisa was to your left, Jimin to your right looking out over the crowd.

“Fuck,” Jimin marvels, turning towards you, “You guys good?”

Hobi approaches the three of you, all of them looking to you to say something.

You let out a deep breath, “Yeah,” you pause, “We’re good at what we do, we can do this. My dad always told me if you can dream it, you can do it.”

The four of you give each other one last tight hug before the host says;

“And the next band of the night comes right here out of the city, female-led and impressive as hell—Violet!”

The next few moments are a blur. You are strapping up your guitar and plugging it into the amp cord, walking out onto the biggest stage you’ve ever set foot on, stage lights blinding you for a moment you almost miss how many people are here. Your vision then focuses and your stomach drops once again. The pavilion is huge and in the time you first scoped it out—the crowd had doubled. Everyone is already cheering for you which makes you smile a bit.

You look over to your right, Lisa marveling at the crowd. To your left, Jimin isn’t looking at the crowd, but giving you a reassuring smile. You glance back over your shoulder, Hobi beaming a bright smile to the crowd as he tweaks with the drum set for his liking. Back in the wings, a sound technician gives you a thumbs up whenever for whenever you’re ready.

You turn to your microphone, letting out a deep breath to steady your heart rate. You bite your lip nervously and before you even realize it, you’re speaking and addressing the biggest crowd you’ve step in front of.

“Good evening,” you break a smile, “We’re Violet… I want to dedicate our set to my dad who I know is looking over me right now,” this returns even more applause. The majority of the people must know who you are, or at least who your father is as some in the crowd send you waves of “rock on” hand signs. It calms you a bit and you hope your dad can feel the love.

“Ready guys?” You turn back to your band and they all nod, just waiting on your cue. Hobi counts the four of you in and you begin to strum your guitar. It’s such a simple melody and it’s slower than what the crowd had been used to—but symbolic for you in more ways than one.

“Every time that I sell myself to you… I feel a little bit cheaper than I need to,” you pause for a breath, “I will tear petals off of you, rose red I will make you tell the truth.”

As you sing, you realize that your nervousness is finally subsiding, turning into bubbling adrenaline.

“Was she asking for it? Was she asking nice? Was she asking for it? Did she ask you twice?”

While the crowd isn’t moshing or necessarily jumping up and down with excitement—it’s exactly why you chose this as the opener. You knew it would be different and would make you stand out. It was a risk for sure, but you hoped that it would pay off.

“And if you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you, and if you live through this with me I swear that I will die for you—“

The song picks up and so does your voice—

“Was she asking for it? Was she asking nice? Yeah she was asking for it… did she ask you twi-ice—“

The song finishes after a few more moments of strings and Violet is met with huge applause by the crowd. You give out a smile, looking over to Jimin who gives you a wink. Fuck, this felt good. You could get used to this.

With two more songs to go—you suddenly felt on top of the world. A Violet rendition of Umbrella by Rihanna is what you play next. The crowd appreciates some more upbeat music coming their way and your fingers strum your chords naturally. One thing is for sure—you were made to do this. With your final song starting, you were sad that you couldn’t stay on longer to showcase everything Violet had to offer.

The final song was an important one that took your band a few days to figure out what you wanted to play. You had debated playing an original, but you knew that it would showcase was Violet could bring as band.

You had started writing the song a couple months after yours and Jungkook's breakup but only finishing it recently with your life turn of events. The melody and chords were simple despite the heavy lyrics you came up with at 4 AM one night.

"Why do all of the monsters come out at night? Why do we sleep where want to hide? Why do I run back to you like I don't mind if you fuck up my life."

The crowd seems to instantly enjoy it. The song brings you back to those nights with Jungkook that always ended painfully. You feel as if the two of you had come so far since then which made it a little easier to sing now.

"Tell me pretty lies, look me in my face, tell me that you love me even if it's fake..."

"Dead, thinking about you you're in my head; even without you I still feel dead. Why do I run back to you like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

"Like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

The songs ends with Hobi clashing against the drums and you feel a weight leave your shoulders. You open your eyes, blinded by the lights again before a smile spreads across your face.

Loud cheers and applause errupts, sending chills down your spine. Your whole band thanks everyone before you exit, the four of you holding hands to bow before you leave the stage. You were sweaty, shaking, and high on excitement. When the four of you exit the stage, you have barely gotten your guitar off when Jimin is scooping you up from behind, Lisa jumping into Hobi’s arms. All of you guys are squealing, out of breath, excited, uneasy—every emotion in the book. You think you might cry when you give thought to your dad being here with you. He would have loved to see you do this.

“That was fucking crazy!” Hobi yells with ecstasy, “Fuck Y/N they loved you holy shit, I haven’t drummed like that in years! Jesus Christ!” He’s talking out of his ass at the moment but you don’t blame him. You on the other hand are mute, unable to process what just happened. Everything went to plan—you sounded so smooth and tight. It was fucking perfect.

Once you get back to your dressing room, you immediately take off your heels to aid your throbbing feet, throwing yourself down on the couch. You weren’t too sweaty, the chill of the evening keeping you at bay, but you still felt hot, sticky, and a bit shaky. Your three other members were continuing to chatter in their excitement but you really had nothing else to say. You knew you did as best as you could hitting every note and chord timely. There was nothing you couldn’t change and you refused to dwell on it, especially when it dawns that you have to go back out and play again soon.

You feel around again for your phone that you had left in room, finding it on the floor charging next to you. You pick it up quickly, realizing you have a new slew of text messages from friends and peers who must be out in the crowd somewhere congratulating you and your band. You make a mental note to answer them later when your mind wasn’t on other things. A new text from Jungkook also catches your eye. You hadn’t texted him back from earlier yet so you tap on his section, reading over it promptly.

[Jungkook 4:13 PM] thank you for this morning. good luck tonight. i’ll see you later. ❤️

[Jungkook 8:18 PM] you were incredible. i’ll come get you before we get ready to go on

You decide to respond by giving him your dressing room number and a quick thank you. The same bundle of nerves begins to stir in your tummy thinking about the new set of chords you need to produce. Jimin and Lisa are packing up their instruments which makes you a little jealous. You wished you could just go out with them and not have to worry about anything else up until they announced the winner of the evening.

“You good Y/N? You haven’t said much?” Jimin comments looking over to you as you curl up on the couch comfortably, scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

“Yeah,” you give him a glance, “Just nervous about the rest of the night.”

He nods promptly, drifting on over to sit beside you. Naturally, you stretch your legs out across his lap, his hands massaging your calves softly. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to block out the sound of the next band playing. You were trying to go through the lists if bands that had yet to go…. Whailen… Femme & Melancholy…. Lithium…. Mayday.

Truthfully the only one you were threatened by was Whailen and Mayday—the latter only being that they were already signed. The irony of feeling threatened by Jungkook and Taehyung’s band when you were about to step foot on stage with them. Knowing both of them for years now, it was the last thing you would have ever thought you would have done.

About an half an hour goes by of sitting with your band reflecting on the past few years together and how much tonight could change all of your lives. You and Lisa are laughing about your first meeting ten years ago and how much you two actually hated each other at first when there is a sudden knock on your door. Everyone gives you a glance and you mutter a quick hold on before you get up, swinging the door open to be met with a soft gaze from a familiar set of eyes.

“Hi,” you greet Jungkook and he gives you a small smile in return. Your hear rate instantly picks up when you make eye contact. He’s stunning as ever.

“Hey,” he says, his eyes glancing back into the room behind you, “You ready?”

Jungkook awkwardly stands at the door as you quickly put your shoes back on in silence. Jimin watches Jungkook carefully from the couch, noticing that Jungkook has yet to take his eyes off you. Jimin never intended to get in the middle of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. What happened between you and him was a one-off occurrence that was a stupid drunken decision. While he was never the biggest fan of Jungkook to begin with—him cheating on you and the pain he caused he—he thought he was helping you overcome him. Now here they are, six months later and you and Jungkook are still as dopey in love as ever; whether you two had admitted it to each other, it wasn’t his business. Jimin truly never has liked you in a romantic way; he admires your talent, your drive, your passions—he just hopes that Jungkook can give you everything you deserve. Frankly Jimin knew you weren’t ever going to let anyone else break down your walls, so he might as well wish you the best.

Jungkook offers to carry your guitar case which you happily let him. Your hands are becoming shaky again thinking about going out to play with a band whom you’ve never been with. Whailen had been together years before Violet could have even been thought about being formed. They were tight and their sound reflected that—you didn’t want it to seem like you were an obvious temporary replacement.

“Do you want us to come watch?” Hobi speaks for the first time since Jungkook came in.

“Please?” You sound like you’re begging at this point but seeing a familiar face out in the crowd wasn’t a want, it was a need right now. Your band wishes you and Jungkook good luck as you leave to begin your trek back down to the main stage.

“Are you nervous?” Jungkook asks as you walk close beside him.

“Mhm,” you mumble, unable to come up with any words. With Jungkook’s free hand, he grabs yours and intertwines your fingers together. He immediately notices how shaky and clammy you are, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you nervous?” You retort his question, finally finding your voice. His touch was comforting and you found yourself leaning into him more when the view of the side stage finally comes into view. You spot Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi all standing by, watching as the current band closes out their final song.

“Shitting bricks as we speak,” he says with a laugh. You give him a nudge of your own reassurance before you join him in a laugh.

“There’s our woman of the hour,” Jin greets you first with a smile. Him and Yoongi look relaxed, but that wasn’t a surprise to anyone.

“You guys did great Y/N,” Yoongi compliments and you thank him quickly, your mind elsewhere. The band on stage, Lithium, wraps up their rendition of Fall Out Boy’s Sugar We’re Going Down to loud screams and praise. Lithium was from another city which is why you personally had no heard much about them. They were pretty damn good from the snippet you heard and the leader singer was quite cute.

Lithium quickly exits the stage to where all of you are standing. They’re all sweaty and panting as they pass you by. Speaking of the leader singer, his eyes find yours and he sends you a quick wink and smirk. He yells an explicit to his band in excitement and it takes you a moment to realize Jungkook’s hand is still squeezing yours, his eyes following the lead singer until he’s out of sight.

“Dick,” he mutters and it makes you smile. As territorial as ever.

Not long after they clear the stage, the announcer is introducing Whalien 52 to the crowd.

“And please welcome another band from the heart of this city—Whailen 52!”

Finally Jungkook drops your hand as he prepares himself grabbing his drum sticks. You situate your guitar across you, a sound technician plugging your guitar in for you this time. Once Whailen is situation, you begin to walk across the stage following Taehyung’s lead. Jungkook separates from your side going to the drum kit and you walk to stage left of Taehyung.

The crowd is just as jarring as the first time you walked across the stage. It’s loud, hot, humid with sweat—nearly suffocating. You look out into the crowd briefly, noticing people closer to the front giving you confused looks. You choose to ignore them, glancing back towards Jungkook who has sat at the drums with an unreadable expression. His eyes meet yours briefly before he turns to look at Taehyung; relishing in the cheers from the crowd with a sly smirk across his lips. You feel as if your heart may beat out of your chest, fingers may drop your guitar pick from the shakiness in your fingertips, your throat going dry in all the same breath. You look across the stage to meet Yoongi’s gaze—it’s soft and comforting. As if he can read your emotions, he nods a couple times, giving you some needed reassurance.

“Thank you, thank you,” Taehyung begins to speak, sending a wink over to someone in the crowd, “We’re Whalien 52 and uh, we hope you enjoy our set.”

Jungkook’s drum sticks counts in three, two one—the first song, a cover of Silverchair’s “Ana’s Song.” Similar to Violet’s set, Whalien agreed on a starting off a little slower, wanting to pick up their vibe as the short set continued. Taehyung’s voice complimented Daniel John’s well as he opens the song with a deep emotion you never knew he had until you began practicing with them last week.

Luckily for you, the chords for the song were easy for you, strumming the chords lightly until it required you and Taehyung to strum heavier together as the chorus picked up. As usual, your nerves have greatly decreased as you feel more content in your element. You find that playing lead with no vocals was definitely less nerve wracking than your normal gig. Sure it was weird not playing in your own band, but this was still fun for you. It will always be fun for you—you couldn’t thank your father for introducing you to your passion enough. The thought of him makes you smile and as the song closes, you let out a heavy sigh of relief. Nerves were nearly zero and you felt confident—a dangerous combination.

Taehyung speaks to the crowd for a moment as everyone continues to yell and cheer for the band. You had to admit, this crowd was one of the best you’ve ever played for. They’re enthusiastic about each band, appreciating everyone for what they bring, and silence hadn’t been an option for them. As you glance over the crowd one more time, your eyes land on Jimin, Lisa, and Hobi. They’re standing to your right, far enough where they couldn’t hear you if you tried to speak but close enough where you could make out their faces. Lisa blows you a giant kiss while Jimin and Hobi gives you reassuring smiles. It brings butterflies to your stomach knowing that they are not mad at you. If anything, they seem more than proud and you couldn’t ask to be a leader for anyone else.

The next song, an original song written by Namjoon and Yoongi—Fake Love—begins to play as you strum your guitar to the beautiful chords. As much of an ass Kim Namjoon could be, he was a damn good song and melody writer. Jungkook soon comes in heavy with the drums and the song is shaping to how it’s supposed to sound. Between the lyrics, the way it slows and picks up, it truly is great. Jungkook even brings in some backing vocals which rounds out everything nicely. As you continue to strum, you glance back at him hitting the drums rhythmically and smooth like butter. You knew playing guitar was one talent—playing the drums was completely different. You had to have groove, stamina, strength, a musicality that wasn’t even on your level. While guitar was definitely yours and Jungkook’s niche, he looked just as comfortable behind the drum kit.

Fake Love is over before you realize it and you end up giving Taehyung a smile which he seems to appreciate. As the lead of a band, compliments and reassurance were never enough. The pressure of it all could be crushing. Your father, while not the lead of the band, experienced pressure all too well and you’re sure it’s one of the reasons he did was he did. You weren’t excusing him for leaving you and your mom alone, but you knew maybe if someone had just told him one more time he was great—he would still be here. You’d be damned if anything like that happened again in your lifetime. You knew exactly was Kim Taehyung was feeling right now and despite this not being your own band—you wanted him to feel what you would want to feel—confident and damn good in his abilities.

The last song—which was the song of your choosing—“Do I Wanna Know” by the Arctic Monkey’s, starts with the iconic heavy drum beat, the crowd clapping along as you come in with the guitar chords soon after.

It had been a personal favorite of yours for years and you knew how well Alex Turner’s voice would fit Taehyung’s deep vocal abilities. Whailen was excited about the song choice when you were first practicing and with the crowd response—it was a good choice.

“Crawlin’ back to you, ever thought of callin’ when you’ve had a few… cause I always do,” Taehyung sings the words but the crowd as nearly overtaken him in decibel strength. “Maybe I’m too, busy being yours to fall for somebody new—“

For whatever hell-stricken reason, with these lyrics, you glance back at Jungkook who surprisingly is already looking your way. His gaze catches your breath and you nearly mess up a chord, nearly playing an Am where it should have been an Em. You don’t feel nerves looking at him, but you feel something. A fire deep within your gut, tingles down your spine, lips dry from your mouth being slightly parted. When you had chosen this song for Whailen, you and Jungkook hadn’t fucked and discussed getting back together. You can’t help but feel the irony as Taehyung sings the song with as much burning fire that’s in your and Jungkook’s relationship. You have to look away before you truly fuck up the song.

“Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways… was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay, the nights were made for saying things you can’t say tomorrow day…too busy being yours, ever thought of callin’ darlin’… crawling back to you…”

The song ends to loud and eruptive cheers, each member of Whalien letting out a visible sigh—shoulders falling in relaxation. Yoongi and Jin give each other a big hug from the opposite side of you where you stand. The five of you gather in the middle of the stage to give a final bow to the crowd. You feel like you can finally relax, knowing your night of playing music is finally over.

“Thank you all again! And thank you to Violet’s wonderful lead, Y/N for helping us out with this set!” Taehyung’s last words in the microphone surprise you, but you’re grateful for them.

As all of you exit the stage, you hand your guitar to a sound technician and before you can register anything, you are lifted from the ground, strong arms gripping you tightly. You squeal slightly but the tattooed arm around your front eases you. Jungkook sets you down and you turn around, to give him a proper hug. Both of you are sweaty but you couldn’t care less considering what you two got into this morning.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Jungkook rambles into your ear as he picks you up again for a moment. When sets you down, your hands hold the sides of his face gently and you give him a smile, “Your dad would be so proud of you.”

In words make your heart swell. His words from this morning play over and over in your head. “Let’s just stop this and do it for real.”

Both of you stare for what feels like an eternity, the noise of everything around you drowning out, making it seem as if it’s just the two of you. You know exactly what your answer is and you’re about to give him that by leaning in, touching his nose to yours. Unfortunately, he breaks away first, giving you a small smile before he turns to Taehyung, giving him the biggest brotherly hug you’ve ever seen. You look down in disappointment but you also understand now isn’t the time or place.

You end up hugging Yoongi, with him uttering a million thanks into your ear as well.

“You’re seriously the best Y/N—a fucking rockstar,” he beams his gummy smile at you, “Goddamn I can’t believe we did that.”

“Y/N—“

Your name falls out of Namjoon’s mouth, who has appeared from wherever he watched the set. You give him a small smile, the wall that you build around yourself every time he walks in your vicinity naturally coming up.

“Hey,” you greet him.

“I just wanna say I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” he pauses scratching the back of his beanie covered head, “I know I’ve been a dick to you and I honestly just didn’t want to admit how bad I fucked up and I didn’t want to admit how talented you actually are.”

“Oh,” you’re shocked by his words, the wall coming down slowly.

“I thought you were just handed everything but I hadn’t stepped back and thought about what you’ve actually been going through and I know I’m rambling, but fuck just thank you so much.. Even if we don’t win, we couldn’t have done this without you.”

A feeling of warmth radiates through your veins and you being you, you pull Kim Namjoon of all people in for a hug. Though it’s short, he gladly returns it with a squeeze around your frame. Jungkook was right. No matter what happens—your dad would be proud of you and you knew you had made the right decision.

After about twenty minutes back in the waiting rooms backstage, you follow Whalien out into the crowd to find your bandmates. Lisa is the first to greet you with a big hug. Violet and Whailen stand together in harmony; Taehyung talking to Hobi, Lisa chatting with Yoongi, even Jimin and Jungkook exchanging nice words with each other. You realize that you and Jungkook had barely talked since the set ended and you can’t help but notice the hardened look on his face as he watches the last band performing—Mayday, close out their set. Mingyu and his band are damn good and you can only hope that their former accolades aren’t enough to overshadow Violet, or Whailen for that matter.

You make your way over to Jungkook through the tight squeeze of the crowd, nudging him slightly when you approach his right side. He glances down at your frame before pulling you close by throwing an arm around your shoulder. Again, it’s like the world stops and just you two as you look up at him. You had changed into some white sneakers when you had went backstage, returning to your normal height against his frame.

Before his eyes turn back to the stage, he presses his lips against your temple.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask him close to his ear so he can hear properly.

He shrugs, “Nervous,” is all he says. It’s enough for you to nod in understanding. When Jungkook went quiet, it wasn’t personal and it was just something you had to deal with. You felt nervous too, knowing that your entire future could change within the next 20 minutes.

The two of you hold onto each other’s side as Mayday leaves the stage once they're finally finished. The lights change on the stage, the crowd gets even louder, and you can sense your chest tensing up. It’s not until when the host of the competition, along with a few executives from Geffen Records step out onto the stage. A younger man holds an envelope, whilst an older man grabs the microphone from the host after some introductions.

“Thank you all for coming,” the older man, a senior international executive at the record company speaks with confidence. “We have been spoiled tonight with so many amazing performances from some amazing bands. With a record deal, one band will change forever after tonight but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my career of 30 years in the music industry—don’t give up on your dreams. If you want it to happen—make your shit happen.”

Someone—Lisa intertwines her hand with your right hand, Jungkook holding onto your left hand. Jimin and Hobi are tense; Taehyung is looking at the ground with his eyes closed; Namjoon and Jin look antsy; Yoongi looks stoic as he stares at the stage with slightly parted lips, squinting to focus his vision.

You try to force a smile to calm yourself, to tell yourself everything is fine—you got this. Violet was damn good. It had to work out—there was no other options. Your chest swells and your hands are clammy, but you know you deserve this more than anyone else here. You had built your whole life around this moment, the chance to make music until the day you die, the chance to become the next star, to carry on your father’s legacy—it would have to work out.

As the younger executive hands over the envelope and the whole crowd yells in anticipation.

“And the winner is—!”

It seems as if the world stops. Your chest falls, smile fading into the background of all the noise. You feel a lump form in your throat, nausea rushing to your stomach. Your knees nearly cave in, weak from the reality that’s hit you.

“—Mayday!”

_____

Back in the dressing room it’s silent. The band is packing everything up in defeat. You parted from Jungkook and Whailen for them to do the same. You no longer felt sick to your stomach. Only sadness and a little bit of anger. You kept thinking about what you could have done differently—played this song instead of that one, worn your usual dresses and sneakers, done this, done that. It was no use. Violet had lost. Whailen had lost. And you were back to square one.

Noticing your demeanor, Jimin wraps his arms around you protectively. You return his hug, feeling exhausted and weak. The only thing you wanted to do was go home and cry yourself to sleep. No tears had sprung yet, but you knew once you were alone, they would be ever flowing until the morning.

“I’m sorry guys,” you finally speak into Jimin’s chest. He looks down at you with concern.

“For what?” He asks; Hobi and Lisa turning to the two of you.

“I failed you guys,” you shake your head, pushing away from him to stay at an arms length.

“Oh my god, absolutely not,” Lisa consoles, swatting her hands aimlessly. She pulls you into a tight hug, Hobi and Jimin following suit where the four of you were holding on only to each other.

“Y/N you’re the best fucking leader we could ask for,” Hobi says, “Just because we didn’t win this stupid competition doesn’t mean our lives are over.”

“Yes it does,” you whine and you can only make out Jimin’s giggling.

“No it doesn’t,” he says, “Because we’re going to make shit happen.”

This ends up breaking you into a smile, glancing between your members. They’re not even bandmates at this point—they’re your family.

“Fuck, I love you guys,” you say. The four of you continue your group embrace and perhaps Jimin is right. You’re Violet—you’re Krist Vedder’s daughter—and most importantly, you’re you. You make shit happen.

It’s a little after midnight when you and your bandmates leave the venue. You’ve changed into a comfortable sweatsuit and large jacket to accommodate for the chilly weather. You didn’t realize how cold it actually was being on stage with the adrenaline and lights.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us?” Hobi was begging you to join them for a drink but with the depressive state your mind is in, you know that would end terribly for you.

“I’m good guys, I promise. I honestly just want to go home and sleep,” you say again. “When are you going to be home?” You ask Lisa.

Her hair pulled into a high ponytail, she smirks, “I’m meeting up with Baekhyun, so I might not be back until tomorrow.”

“You’ve been staying with him a lot,” Jimin says warningly with a raised brow. Lisa’s face scrunches up, turning slightly pink.

“Oh shit, my Uber’s here! I’ll see y’all later!” She runs off down the street to an SUV pulling up to the curb. The three of you wave her off ensuring she gets into the car safely.

“How are you getting home?”

“I may just walk,” you say with a shrug to your shoulders. Was it cold and a little too late for you to be walking by yourself? Yes. But your mind was racing at a million thoughts. You needed to calm yourself before the wave of emotions finally hit you.

“Y/N,” Jimin furrows his eyebrows.

“What? I just need some time to think,” you tell him honestly. “You know my place isn’t far from here anyways.”

“We know, it’s just—“

“Y/N?”

A third male voice says your name from behind the three of you. You immediately know who it is before you even turn around. Jimin and Hobi’s eyes meet Jungkook’s before yours do. As you turn around, Jungkook approaches the three of you, hands shoved into his black jacket, his hair shoved underneath a black cap.

“Hi,” you greet him with a small smile, an inner warmth radiating at the sight of him. Suddenly, all your worrisome thoughts seemed to wane, now only focusing on the man in front of you.

“Hey guys,” he nods to your two bandmates, his soft gaze then falling to you. He looks much more relaxed and poised than the last time you spoke. Neither one of you said anything to each other when Mayday was announced at the winner, parting backstage in silence.

“What are you still doing here?” You ask noticing that he’s all by himself.

“I was uh, waiting for you,” he clears his throat awkwardly and your heart lurches at the thought, but stiffens thinking about him waiting out in the cold for so long just for you.

You glance at your bandmates, who are looking between you and Jungkook curiously. Hobi and Jimin aren’t stupid—they can sense an unspoken tension between you two and they decide it’s best to leave you two be.

“Get her home safe man,” Jimin nudges Jungkook’s arm with his elbow, before giving you a small smile, “See ya later Y/N.”

You wave them off and it’s soon just you and Jungkook outside the venue pretty much all alone. You turn back to him, looking up at his frame.

“You okay?” You ask him, wrapping your arms around your frame as a chill goes down your body. A soft smile spreads across his face before he’s grabbing your hand, pulling you in the opposite direction of your apartment.

_____

Jungkook drags you to a convenience store where the two of you currently sit on a sidewalk, sharing a cup of piping hot ramen and cuddled up to each others side to keep warm. He slurps the noodles quietly and you can tell there’s something he’s not saying. You don’t know whether to push him or leave it be. At the moment, you decide on the latter.

“We used to do this all the time,” you say, bringing up memories of the first few months of yours and Jungkook’s relationship. The two of you managed to find yourself at convenience stores, eating junk or buying alcohol after long nights of band practice or gigs. 18 seemed so long ago and you two seem like such different people now. Honestly though—it’s a good thing. Growing up can be hell, but you and Jungkook are proof that you have to grow the fuck up to get to a healthy place.

Jungkook smiles with a chuckle, “I know, I think I used to eat my body weight in ramen as a teenager,” he pauses looking at the last bit of noodles and broth. He looks at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes that you love so much and you nod with a small laugh. He grins before eating the last of the food. He sets down the cup before letting out a deep sigh of relief.

You lean into his left side, one of his hands resting on your leg to pull you closer to him. It’s comfortable and it feels like home.

“You’ve been so quiet since the competition,” you mumble, opting to push him a little.

He sighs deeply, gaze still forward, “I guess I’m still processing everything,” he says with disappointment in his tone. You nod into his shoulder. You understand completely. You felt like you had built a glass house that had been shattered by a giant rock.

“I’m sorry,” is what you offer, looking up to his side profile. He glances over at you, his eyebrow piercing catching the street light for a moment.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, dropping his head slightly, “Though there wasn’t much we could do about it.”

His tone implies something—you don’t know what—but something. Almost accusatory. Furrowing your brows, you ask what he means.

He lets out a sarcastic laugh in response, “The competition was fucking rigged.”

You grip loosens on his arm some, your face draining any color left, mouth going dry. You nearly push back and say that’s ridiculous, but you stop yourself. As you had been working on with your therapist, you hold your tongue instead of jumping to conclusions. Why would Jungkook lie about that? What does he have to gain by saying that without any reason to back it up?

“Where did you hear that from?”

He rolls his tongue across his teeth; a habit he’s had for as long as you’ve known him. “Mingyu himself,” he laughs in disbelief, “Told me after I went to congratulate him.”

“That… sucks,” you don’t even know what to say. You felt numb; unsure of how exactly to feel. More sadness? Anger? Disappointment? Resentment?

“Apparently Geffen had eyes on Mayday for the past few months, but their small label wouldn’t sell Geffen any of their original masters unless they agreed to ensure Mayday won the battle of the bands,” Jungkook continues with details that you didn’t ask for, but you were appreciative for the information. It makes logical sense. Your dad had always educated you about expenses within the music industry and owning an artists masters was the most sought after position to have. Michael Jackson didn’t even own his own music.

“Well fuck,” you mutter, now able to pinpoint the one emotion rising in your body. “Is it weird that I feel somewhat relieved?”

Jungkook looks at you with a confused expression, “Uh—yes?”

“Think about it Guk,” you sit up a little bit to face him, “Would you want to be signed to label who can be bought off that easily? Over a battle of the bands competition with underground punk bands?”

Jungkook licks his lips with a small smile, “Well when you put it like that,” he can’t help but laugh at you some. His heart swells when he finally looks into your eyes—really looks into your eyes—since you’ve made the journey to the damn convenience store.

You find yourself unable to look away from him. He was your everything for so long and you’ve figured out with some time and space he still is your everything. No one will ever replace him. No one will ever make you feel the way he does. And you needed him to know that. You lean in, his lips meeting yours halfway. It’s as if you’re transported to the first night you met—sparks buzzing inside you as you move your lips against his. He cups the left side of your face gently and you hold the back of his head, scratching the base of his neck the way he likes.

“Jungkook,” you pull away, leaving little to no room between him and you, “I’ve thought about what you said this morning and you’re right,” you pause glancing down at your lap briefly to catch your breath. You’ve never felt this vulnerable with him but he had perhaps been the most open he’s ever been with you this morning. It’s your turn.

“I’ve thought about you everyday for nearly four goddamn years and I—I don’t want to stop. You were my best friend for so long and you still are my best friend. I want you in my life no matter what but I do want to be with you—I want to try again with you. Learn from our stupid, immature mistakes and find the best path for us,” you think he’s about to interrupt you but you shake your head quickly, “I started going to therapy and uh, it’s really helped me figure out why I’ve been acting the way I am and why I treated you so poorly. I’m still navigating through everything but I love you so much Jeon Jungkook and I don’t want it any other way.”

Jungkook stares at you blankly for a few moments, processing each word you’ve said. Without saying anything he embraces you in a tight hug, feeling a happiness he hasn’t felt in a long time. Not only does he feel happy; he feels calm; he feels excited, dopey, and in love. He couldn’t give a shit about the band competition. He has you. That’s what he needs.

“I love you so much Y/N,” he says into your hair, “I’ve been going to therapy too,” he pauses and you smile into his warm embrace. “I’ve made stupid, horrible mistakes, and I’ve hurt you so much and I’m working my shit out too but I hope that you’re willing to grow and grow old with me.”

He gets all the answer he needs when you kiss him silly again. “You’re not asking you to marry you, are you?” You pull away with a pointed look.

He laughs pecking your lips again, pulling you to sit on top of his lap, “Not yet babe, we gotta make it big first so I can buy you the big ass rock you deserve.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes, “You could propose with a ring pop and I would love it.”

Jungkook raises his pierced brow at you before an idea pops into his head. He kisses your forehead before he mumbles to stay put. He runs back into the (thankfully) 24/7 convenience store and you can’t help but grin, already knowing what he’s going to come back with.

As Jungkook opens up the candy wrapper, slipping the clunky piece of candy on your left ring finger, you feel yourself beginning to cry. This is what almost brings tears to your eyes—not losing the band competition—this—because this is what really matters.

“This is very punk,” Jungkook smiles, admiring the blue ring of candy before kissing your lips chastely. You manage to get rid of the tears springing in your eyes by batting your lashes quickly.

“Very Kurt and Courtney,” you add with a small smile. Both of you exchange one more I love you before he leans in again and you find yourself having the best kiss you’ve ever had with your one and only, on the frigid sidewalk in front of a nasty convenience store.

With one last smile against your lips, he says, “Baby they have nothin’ on us.”

Record deals come and go. Real love doesn’t come and go. Once you find it you have to be careful with it; you may never find it again.

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