Old Friends | Jeon Jungkook

╰┈➤ Old Friends | Jeon Jungkook

✎PAIRING: Jungkook x fem!reader

✎SUMMARY: somewhere along the way Jungkook and you lost the lead. You’d take one step forward and four steps back. Somehow everything was lost in the path of love, in the path of something so beautiful.

✎WARNINGS: minor character death due to breast cancer, angst. Jk is a little mean for a short while, parental divorce, fluff!!

What started out as a young and blossoming friendship between the seven year old Jungkook and seven year old Y/N, turned into a sour misadventure of young hearts, splitting right under the setting skies of Paris, The young boy still living in Jungkook had his confidence and love taken, and the small girl still lively in Y/N, had her first true heart break.

Y/N found Jungkook under the staircase of their gym. Big bug eyes teary and small button nose red, her heart skipped a beat in pity and hurt, without a word hugging the younger boy to her smaller body. She offered him her favourite animal crackers, which only served to make him cry a little harder, sobbing heavily as he murmured a small ‘thank you’ and picked up a few of the lions.

Y/N smiled at him, eyes crinkling with her deep and sweet smile, urging Jungkooks boyish smile. Tears glistening in the boys eyes as Y/N wiped them away, optimistically telling him ‘now no more crying’ in her high pitched voice. The young boy nodded, smiling shyly as Y/N nudged his shoulder ‘wanna tell me what upset you?’.

The mysterious and cute boy swallowed thickly, chest swarmed with hurt and discomfort, ‘Henry told me I don’t belong here’. His voice was raspy, cracking as his bottom lip wobbled, y/n cooed, pecking his salty cheek and giving him her orange juice.

He thanked her, smiling a small smile.

From that day, Y/N became jungkook’s first friend and his favourite person. He invited her to his birthday party, which was exclusively only for him and her to enjoy in some restaurant his mom booked, full of games they could explore idly. Their moms sat somewhere in the corner, watching their two children being extremely loud and ruckus with everything but enjoying themselves.

That day, he traded his larger teddy with Y/N, telling her the pink teddy was too girly for him even though he did genuinely like it. She handed him his present, ‘i hope you like it kookie’.

The iron man teddy, though now slowly loosing his threads and has age related marks still sits on his bed. At fifteen years of age, the teddy is still his favourite item he owns. Just like the pink teddy is precious to y/n. Not really understand the homework he had, he asked his most valued person for help.

A couple days after the birthday party, you had learned jungkooks parents were divorcing. He was having a rough time, asking where his father is, wondering why he left. At the age of thirteen, Jungkook started resenting his father for leaving his mother and him for a younger woman. Now he sits across y/n with books splayed out in front of them, both rubbing their heads in confusion.

“Honestly kookie, I don’t think I’m much help to you”

He laughed. Y/N, had noticed how much he started growing into his features. His doe eyes turning more foxy, cheeks becoming higher and jawline more prominent. Y/N, though she knew much earlier, has became frighteningly more aware of Jungkooks handsomeness. She started wondering what it’d be like to kiss him. To feel his soft lips against hers. But she never let him know. It was her little secret, even if she knew it was wrong because he is her best friend and she’d never risk it like that.

At eighteen Y/N realised her feelings were much more than just a teenage crush. She hated the sight of him with other girls, it hurt her deeply. It made her tummy churn and her chest squeeze. In turn, she’d take that pain and sleep with men she didn’t particularly know much about.

What she didn’t realise is Jungkook’s feelings were even stronger for her, hating the sight of her crying over men who didn’t deserve her, worrying about her twenty four seven, staying up all night when she’d go out for drinks with her friends, always picking her up and comforting her the next morning when she’d throw up. She was his third eye, she was the woman -along side his mother- he’d protect with all his might. The woman he’d chase across the world.

Everything he was working on, his entrance for college, his career, everything was for her. Even if he didn’t end up with her, he was doing it all to ensure she had the most beautiful life possible. Opening a savings account and putting away money for her. So he can make sure she’d never have to worry about money problems like she did when they were younger.

The day both of them stumbled into his home drunk and giggling, his mother was there with a worried look and a slipper in her hand as she slapped both of them on the ass for worrying her about their were abouts.

At sixteen, Jungkook had to comfort Y/N when her mother passed away to breast cancer. He stayed all week with her, feeding her small amounts of food and helping her cope. For three months straight, Jungkook ensured her comfort. Ensured Y/N knew she had someone aside from her father to lean on. Jungkook was her fallen angel.

The young pair was together through thick and thin. From picking each other up and glueing one another back together, to sharing wonderful memories. They were there for each others firsts, from first kisses, to first cars. Jungkook and Y/N, though they did not know it yet, were destined for each other. They were bonded for life.

For their 21st birthday they flew to Thailand. Exploring new places and destinations, spending sunsets and sunrises together. That was the first time Y/N rode on a motorcycle, clinging to jungkooks back as he chuckled, wind blowing threw her hair as she laughed away. A beautiful sunset taking over the city. It was magical, beautiful. It was everything Y/N dreamed of, having Jungkook to herself for a week straight.

At twenty five years of age, they travelled to Europe, Paris was their destination. They were to spend a year there, learning French, making cheese from scratch and working at a bakery. Jungkook was the happiest he was in his life.

“I’m screwed,” y/n whispered to Jungkook, “the bagel is not bageling”.

Kneading the dough, jungkooks brows furrowed as he snickered, “that’s not a word love”.

“You get what I mean”.

Y/Ns dream was to open her own bakery in Paris, and Jungkook was adamant on making that dream come through, soon he’d tell himself.

“Well lucky for you I knew the bagels were not bageling,” he chuckled, “and made a new batch”.

He watched the way her eyes lit up, pecking his cheek as she tied the apron on her back, “you are mighty kookie!”.

During their two week work-vocation, they spent the last weekend drinking, drinking a little too much. A little too confident with their steps back to their shared apartment, somehow, words have been twisted, and Jungkook finally uttered the feelings laying heavy on his chest.

“Leave that ugly French guy,” he’d say to the sobering y/n as he swayed and she opened the door, “he’s no good for you. He could never treat you the way I could. Y/n you know me practically all my life, and to be fair, I fell in love with you when I was seven years old.”

“Oh don’t be silly, you didn’t even know what love was at seven.”

That crushed Jungkooks heart. Though he was drunk, he understood everything you were telling him and it stung him even worse than when his father left. He nodded, shutting his mouth and going to his room. Y/N didn’t intend to respond like that, she got far too nervous. She wasn’t sure wether he was spewing random Freud of love thoughts within his drunk-ness or if he truly meant his words.

The following morning, as Jungkook woke up with a pounding headache and Y/N, ever the light weight, was throwing up, he tended to her like always. Even if his heart was on its last hinge. He still rubbed her back and helped her up. Later that day, Y/N approached Jungkook.

“Yesterday, when we uhm, got home-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Y/N was hurt, he remembered but didn’t want to acknowledge it. It was pitiful the way he didn’t even look at her and instead, sipped his beer and looked at the tv. Y/N felt like she was choking, like he took a knife and slit her heart open. It was an awful feeling and she hated it. To be so ignored just told her she was falsely hopeful.

What y/n hated, was that for the next week Jungkook gave her the silent treatment, as if they were ten years old and arguing over who touched whose toy. At the bakery they worked in, y/n once again approached Jungkook, this time a lot more gently and sweetly.

“Kook can we talk”

“I’m busy.”

Y/N felt herself finally breaking down. Her heart aching so painfully she thought she was having a heart attack. To be shut down by your best friend is one thing, but to be ignored and given to cold shoulder is another thing. It hurt her so bad, that once they got home she looked at him with eyes full of tears and once again asked.

“Kookie, can we please talk”.

“We have nothing to talk about.”

Nodding silently to herself, she didn’t even shrug of the knee length faux fur black coat, instead turning to the door and leaving. Her fishnets done absolutely nothing to keep her bare legs warm in the bitter cold of Paris. Her above knee checkered dress was usual in keeping her body from shivering. But she was hurt, and she needed to be away from him, or else she’d be completely broken.

For more than a week now, he’s ignored her. Shut her out. Didn’t utter a single word to her, and refused to discuss what had been said. Now she sat at the curb of the path, staring up at the lit up Eiffel Tower, stuck in the city of love with a broken heart. She scoffed to herself, sniffling as her eyes teared up all over again.

Though hurt and stubborn, Jungkook followed her steps. He knew he messed up, but the way she had answered him that night really hurt him. Closed the deal for him. He shouldn’t have expected her to reciprocate his feelings, but he hoped, that maybe even a little bit of her had more than just friendly feelings for him. Despite it all, he still had to make sure she was okay.

Sitting beside her, he nudged her shoulder, offering her a pack of animal crackers. She looked at him with knitted brows, clear hurt evident in her eyes, “so now you want to talk? It took me breaking down for you to talk to me? Really Jungkook?”.

He sighed, his head hanging low, “y/n there isn’t much to talk about. I told you I love you and you told me it wasn’t real, what’s more to it? You want to tell me you hate me too?”

She scoffed, getting up of the curb and patting her backside off any dirt, “maybe if you talked to me, you’d realise I was nervous when you said that to me. Maybe you would have had the opportunity to tell me again, and I could tell you I felt the same way, but this time you’d be sober,” she turned away from him, “and I broke up with ugly French guy a long time ago.”

She began walking away, and as stunned as Jungkook was, he sighed heavily once again, following her closely as she walked away from him and into the city, taking the known route back home. The bustling of the streets was loud, at ten past nine it was usually busy. He had to make sure she got home safely.

The following day, jungkook unexpectedly back hugged Y/N in the bathroom as she brushed her teeth, weakly trying to shrug him off, “I’m sorry love, I have something to show you, will you come with me it’s important?”.

Even if she was beyond annoyed with Jungkook and upset, she’d follow him into the depths of dark, so nodding an annoyed yes, she dressed quickly and followed the man closely.

“Before we get there, I want to tell you, that I truly am sorry. I was just so upset when you said my feelings weren’t real, I thought you were trying to tell me you didn’t see me like that. It was childish of me to react like that anyway, but I hope you aren’t too upset with me”.

Her annoyed expression was enough to tell the young man she was pissed off with him, “I’m mad but I’ll get over it.”

He smiled, hugging her to his side as they continued to walk. Finally, they were stood in front of a unit, on the shopping street, there were plenty of shops and restaurants and business around, and there was this little place, outside covered in an ugly green and white colour. Her brows furrowed, unsure of why she was directly staring at their reflection in the windows, until she noticed the small Neon sign on the far wall ‘Angel Bakery.”

The name she told him she’d put down as their bakery’s, name. Her eyes teared up as she turned to look at him, he held a set of keys, his own eyes tearing up as she smiled at him, falling into his arms as she hugged him. She sniffled into his neck, his arms hugging her tightly as she pulled away from him, holding his chin in her hands and pecking his forehead.

“My angel, you’re my angel kook. No matter what you do, you’ll always be my angel”.

He smiled that bunny smile at her, eyes glancing to her lips as he held her face in his hands. He stared deeply into her eyes, both of their chests swarming with feelings, tummy’s full of butterflies as if they were on a rollercoaster, his lips met hers in a sweet kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck as his wrapped around her waist.

“Friends huh.”

The sound of Jungkook’s mothers voice brought them out of their daze. Both of their cheeks burning up as Jungkook muttered a “I didn’t think you’d be this early”.

“About damned time y’all settled down, I want grandkids for gods sake.”

The laughter filled the streets as his mother approached her son first, hugging him sweetly as she then approached you, hugging you tightly, her scent familiar and homely.

“He got you a ring since he was seventeen years old. Hopefully he doesn’t waste more time.”

A/N: enjoy my lovelies!!! This was so cute to write! I listened to ‘old friends’ by Coldplay as I wrote this.

NO TRANSLATION, COPYING OR RECREATION OF ANY KIND IS PERMITTED OF MY WORK!

MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ Pretty when you cry | M.Y.G

・❥・PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!reader

・❥・SUMMARY: Yoongi thinks you’re one of the prettiest women alive.

・❥・WARNINGS: character death due to child birth / hints - talks of suicide. The length of this is more poem wise than story wise, so please don’t hate me for it being so short I’m sorryyyyy

******LISTEN TO PRETTY WHEN I CRY BY LANA DEL REY ******!!!!

Many have dreamt of a girl like you. Yoongi knows that. You were like the kiss of Aphrodite, the touch of an inside of a rose and the warmth of the summer sun. In a sense, you reminded him that of when the flowers begin to bloom during spring, the fresh crispy wave of reminiscent winter air in the morning and the dusky sky on a summer evening, right when it turns to the shade of pink, when the sun begins to timid away to your beauty. You were the it girl.

He knew that there were other ways to describe you, so many other ways. But for the life of him, your beauty and grace was indescribable. You were just like a pretty buttery daffodil, the sweetness of chocolate covered strawberries and the icy taste of a mango sorbet. So fucking, good.

He knew he was absolutely right when he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him on the docks of the summer lake during your camping days. The skies were exactly pink, orange and lilac. It was the the most memorable day to Yoongi, when he saw the way your smile lit up the lake as if tons of shimmering glitter was poured into it, the way the flowers perked up when you sniffled a little and your eyes shined brighter than any stupid star in the galaxy. He could swear your tears were dusted with some type of shimmer when they rolled down your rosey cheeks. Your siren gaze smiling with your bowed blushed lips, skin pale aside from the blush in your cheeks.

That day, that day his heart blossomed with the flowers. His heart expanded and felt that of pure cotton, soft, squishy and warm. So fucking warm, that day, when you said yes, he swears his blood seemed to flow a little more smoothly to his heart, reddening it as if it was crying the tears his eyes couldn’t seem to make out. That was the happiest day in his life, that day, he remembers every moment, every time he wakes up his brain somehow wires the chilly air to the way it was that morning, and the dusty sky, he now believes it carries your name with it every time summer comes around. He swears it does.

The clouds that day could have spelled your name out with the way the earth misted with your warm aura, it was as if everywhere you went, you bled your softness and kindness, your pureness into the earth beneath your feet. It would seep into the ground and rise above, blooming and captivating everything and everyone around you.

Summer, summer was the best way to describe you.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He murmured into your ear that day, your arms wrapping around him even tighter.

“Yoongi, you gave me a ring.”

He could give you so much more, he could give you the galaxy on the finest silver platter he could find. He would go around the world and pick every single flower around it for you. He would drain the ocean to save your life, and he would set this earth on fire if anyone hurt you.

Yoongi, would give his life for you.

Yoongi before you thought he would never bloom this beauty in his life. He refused to believe there was anyone in this world who would ever make him feel something again. He would roam the halls of your college campus in all black, noise cancelling headphones on his ears and he never, never spoke to anyone unless it was for an assignment. He thought back then he’d die alone.

Then you appeared on the roof of the building, grabbing him in a life sucking hug and begging him to give you just 24 hours. Twenty fucking four stupid hours to change his mind about living his life. Now he would spend eternity to spend it with you. He would bargain with the devil if it meant he could live forever with you.

If it meant, he got to see your face every, single, damned time.

You changed everything about him, in twenty four hours, you changed his view on this world. From forcing him to drive in your car while blasting some girly music in your run down Corolla with all the windows down, to eating frozen yogurt at the dead of night. Then, he saw you cry for the first time, when he told you just how sad he was while drinking wine, and he thought to himself how pretty you were when you cried.

He loved you more than life itself, you were the reason he was breathing, the reason he wanted to continue his life. The reason why the sound of children never sounded bad anymore. So he gave you your one wish. A baby. And then he found himself in the delivery room, staring with tears in his eyes, looking at his precious little girl, at the doctors who held her, and then his eyes landed on you, on the blood dripping from the bed, the doctors arms pushing vigorously against your chest, desperately trying to get your heart to beat again. He just stood there, for the first time crying. In his white cozy sweater and white turtle neck. The room was bizarrely quiet in his ears.

all he saw was the lifeless body of his life.

A/N: moral of the story? Don’t have ki…

Im only kidding please don’t kill me.

I can write a happier ending? If y’all want that… I’m sorry? Please forgive me?

NO COPYING, TRANSLATION OR RECREATION OF ANY KIND OF MY WORK IS PERMITTED.

MASTERLIST

BTS Memories of 2018: Jungkook in “FAKE LOVE” MV making film

idk if it’s just me but the links to your fics are not working for me😭

Is that all of them??? Is the link to the masterlist not working either? I’ll try to fix this today, thanks for letting me know ❤️

I love arms

🥊🥊