jeonette

[jeonette]

knockout love — jjk

“I promise I’ll make it out alive, princess.”

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : boxer!best friend, best friends to lovers au, literally felt like I was in a kdrama while writing this.

• also highkey recommend you guys to put on ‘so far away’ by agustd during the final fight scene and loop it until the end hehe… trust me xx

The apartment smelled faintly of coffee and dust, papers scattered like fallen leaves across the table. Bills. Tuition reminders. Rent notices. You rubbed your temple, staring at the numbers like they’d magically shrink if you glared hard enough.

The door clicked open behind you.

“Princess,” a familiar voice called — low, warm, teasing. “Still fighting with those bills? Or are they winning again?”

You glanced over your shoulder. Jeon Jungkook stood in the doorway, hair messy from training, hoodie half-zipped, gym bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. His knuckles were still wrapped in tape, fresh bruises blooming beneath the skin.

“Depends. Are you gonna spot me a billion dollars so I can wipe them all away?” you muttered, tossing your pen down with a sigh.

He grinned and stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. “A billion huh? You aiming low tonight.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at your lips. “What are you doing here so late? Shouldn’t you be home icing those hands of yours?”

He dropped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, sprawling like he owned the place — like he always did. “Maybe I like being here better.”

That made your stomach twist in that stupid familiar way. You shoved the feeling down.

But then he looked at you — really looked — and the playful spark in his eyes dimmed.

“Y/N… I need to tell you something,” he said, sitting up, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice dropped low. Serious. “And you have to promise to let me finish. No interrupting.”

The shift in his tone made your heart skip. “Jungkook… what is it?”

“Promise me first.”

Your fingers curled around the edge of the table. Something cold settled in your chest. “Fine. I promise.”

He inhaled slowly. “I’ve been offered a fight.”

You blinked. Relief flickered for half a second. “That’s it? Kook, you fight all the time—”

“Not like this.” His gaze locked with yours, no teasing now. “It’s underground. The kind they don’t talk about. No rounds. No rules. No time limit. No referee. You fight until one guy can’t stand. Or until he doesn’t get up at all.”

Your blood ran cold. The pen slipped from your fingers, clattering onto the bills.

“What…?” you breathed.

“The payout is fifty million.” His voice was soft. Almost careful. “That’s enough to wipe everything. Your tuition. Your rent. You wouldn’t have to worry anymore. You could finish school. Get out of this crappy apartment. Start over.”

Your heart pounded painfully hard against your ribs. “And what about you? What happens to you if this goes wrong? If you lose—”

“I won’t.” His jaw tensed. “I can win this. You know I can.”

“You could die, Jungkook.” The words cracked from your throat before you could stop them. “Or end up broken. For what — me? You’re gonna risk your life because I can’t pay my bills?”

His brows drew together. Hurt flickered in his eyes. “It’s not because you can’t. It’s because you shouldn’t have to. You work two jobs, go to class all day, come home to this stress every night… alone.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper. “I can’t stand watching you wear yourself down like this. I can fix it.”

You blinked hard, heat stinging behind your eyes. “I don’t care about money, you idiot. I care about you.”

A tear slipped free. Before you could wipe it away, his hand was there — warm, gentle — cupping your cheek like you’d break if he touched too hard.

“Hey…” His thumb brushed the tear, gaze softening. “Don’t cry. Not for me.”

“Then don’t go,” you whispered. “Promise me you won’t do this.”

His lips curved, a small, sad smile. The kind he only ever showed you.

“I promise.” His forehead touched yours, breath warm on your skin. “I won’t do it. Not if it makes you hurt like this.”

You shut your eyes, breathing shaky, letting yourself believe him.

For a moment, the weight in your chest eased. Like the world was right again. Safe.

But deep down, something still twisted. Something unsettled. Like the calm before a storm.

—

It had been two weeks since Jungkook promised you he’d drop the underground fight.

And yet… something felt off.

“Late again, boxer boy?” you called as he stumbled through your apartment door, hoodie soaked with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. “What’d you do — wrestle a bear on the way home?”

Jungkook grinned, tossing his bag onto the floor. “Please. The bear would’ve tapped out in the first round.”

You crossed your arms. “Seriously though… why so late? The gym closes at ten.”

He bent down to unlace his shoes, voice light. “Coach kept me back for extra work. Said I needed to tighten my form.”

“Uh-huh.” You squinted, walking over and grabbing his wrist gently. His knuckles were raw — scraped fresh, bleeding slightly.

“Looks like you tightened your face into someone’s fist.” You held his hand up. “Who did this?”

“Calm down, princess.” He smirked. “Just sparring. You know I can take a punch.”

“Yeah, but can your face?” you muttered, inspecting the bruise forming under his jaw. “If you get any uglier, I’m gonna have to find a new best friend.”

“Ouch.” He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “Betrayed by the only girl I trust.”

You snorted. “Like I’d trade you. Who else would carry my groceries and open every jar I own?”

He grinned. “Exactly. I’m irreplaceable.”

You fell quiet, eyes scanning his face — the sweat, the busted lip, the bruises that hadn’t been there this morning.

“Kook… You sure you’re not… training for something else?” you asked softly.

His smile flickered — just for a split second. But you caught it.

“Why would I lie to you?” he said easily, ruffling your hair like always. “I told you. I dropped that fight.”

“Mhm. You better have,” you muttered, swatting his hand away. “I swear, if I find out you’re doing something stupid—”

“You’ll what?” he grinned, inching closer. “Yell at me? Cry again? Guilt trip me with those sad pretty eyes?”

You glared, cheeks heating. “I’ll throw this entire shoe rack at your head.”

“Oooh. Scary.” He leaned down, eyes twinkling. “You’re cute when you’re threatening murder, princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” you grumbled, heart thudding.

“Why?” He smirked. “It suits you. My little princess.”

You shoved him lightly, trying not to smile. “Go shower. You smell like a wrestling mat.”

He laughed, grabbing his bag. “Anything for you, your highness.”

But as he disappeared into the bathroom, the knot in your chest tightened.

Because no matter how good his smile was… something in his eyes was hiding something.

And you weren’t stupid.

Something was coming.

—

“Don’t forget,” you called from the couch, flipping a page in your textbook, “you promised to be back by eight.”

Jungkook grinned, crouched by the door tying his laces. “Eight sharp. Swear on my life.”

“You better,” you muttered, glancing at him. “If you show up past eight I’m locking the door and you can sleep outside.”

He laughed under his breath but didn’t stand right away. Instead, he sat back on his heels, staring at the floor for a second too long.

You frowned. “Kook?”

He looked up fast — forcing that familiar crooked grin. “Nothing. Just tired.”

You eyed him suspiciously as he grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder like usual… but his hand lingered on the doorknob.

He didn’t open it.

“Why are you just standing there like a weirdo?” you teased lightly, trying to ease the strange knot forming in your chest.

He turned to you, soft eyes flickering — the way they always did when he didn’t want to say something.

“You sure you’ll be okay here alone tonight?” he asked quietly.

You blinked. “What’s with you? You leave for practice all the time. Since when do you care if I’m fine for two hours?”

He chuckled — but it was hollow, forced. “Just asking, princess. You get lonely without me, don’t you?”

“In your dreams,” you muttered, cheeks warming. “Besides, you said you’d be back by eight. So no time for lonely.”

“Right…” His fingers curled slightly on the door handle. Still not opening it.

“Jungkook.” You sat up straight, narrowing your eyes. “Why are you acting so weird?”

He glanced at you — and for a flicker of a moment, you saw it. The doubt. The fear.

Then it was gone — buried under that usual teasing smirk.

“Guess I just don’t wanna leave my favourite girl yet.” He crossed the room, crouching beside the couch, resting his chin on your knee — like he used to when he wanted you to forgive him for something dumb.

“Stop looking at me like that, you idiot,” you grumbled, but your heart squeezed painfully tight. “You’ll miss practice if you keep wasting time here.”

“Maybe I don’t care.” His voice was soft.

You looked down at him. He stared up, gaze warm but strange — like he was memorising you.

“Jungkook…” you whispered.

He stood slowly. Ruffled your hair like always.

“Eight o’clock,” he said gently. “I’ll be back before you miss me.”

“You better,” you muttered. “Or I’m stealing your favourite hoodie and burning your stupid boxing gloves.”

He laughed, soft and quiet.

And finally — finally — he turned and left.

The door clicked shut.

The apartment was too quiet after that.

You tried reading. Couldn’t focus. Tried scrolling on your phone. Nothing stuck. Even Netflix couldn’t hold your attention — every few minutes your eyes flicked to the clock on the wall.

7:45pm.

7:58pm.

You smiled to yourself. “He’ll walk in any second now.”

But eight came and went.

8:15.

8:30.

You texted him: Still alive, boxer boy?

No reply.

You frowned, chewing your lip. Maybe coach kept him again.

9:00.

Still nothing.

A cold knot twisted in your stomach.

9:30.

You called.

No answer.

Okay… maybe he’s showering. Maybe he forgot his phone. Maybe—

9:45.

Panic now. Full-blown.

You called again. Voicemail.

“Jungkook, where the hell are you? You said eight. Call me back.”

You gripped your phone so tightly your knuckles ached. Something was wrong. You felt it — the way your skin prickled, your heartbeat kicked up, like some terrible storm was creeping close.

You bit your lip. One last call.

Jimin.

The phone rang. And rang.

Then, finally — “Hello?”

“Jimin.” Your voice cracked. “Where’s Jungkook? He’s not home. He’s not answering. You know where he is, right?”

Silence.

You swallowed. “Jimin, please. Tell me.”

A shaky breath on the other end.

“…Y/N.” He hesitated. “I thought… I thought he told you. The big fight’s tonight. The underground one. Warehouse 17. Outskirts. Nine p.m.”

The world stilled.

“No…” you whispered, vision blurring. “No, he promised. He said he wasn’t doing it…”

“I thought you knew. I thought he told you—”

The phone nearly slipped from your hand.

Jungkook. You liar. You promised.

You shot up, grabbing your coat, bag — hands shaking, breath short.

“Jimin—” your voice broke. “I’m coming. Stay there. Don’t let him start—”

“He’s already in the ring, Y/N.”

You didn’t wait. The door slammed behind you as you ran — heart hammering, throat tight — sprinting down the hall into the night.

—

The cold night air bit through your thin jacket as you stumbled toward the warehouse entrance. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, cheeks stained with tears you hadn’t been strong enough to hold back.

“Y/N.” A steady voice caught your attention.

You looked up to see Jimin waiting patiently by the entrance, arms crossed, his usual calm presence anchoring the chaos inside you. To you, he was more than a friend — a brother who’d always been there when things got tough.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You okay?”

You shook your head, voice barely above a whisper. “No. I’m not. He shouldn’t be here.”

Jimin sighed but didn’t argue. Instead, he gently rested a hand on your shoulder. “I know. But he’s here. And I know he needs you.”

You let out a shaky breath and tried to pull yourself together, leaning on him as he guided you inside.

The warehouse was thick with tension — the smell of sweat, metal, and adrenaline hung heavy. The crowd roared in the distance, but your eyes locked on the center of the chaos.

There he was.

Jungkook, standing in the ring with his coach, his fists wrapped and bruised, eyes sharp but flickering with exhaustion.

Without hesitation, you pushed past the crowd and climbed up to the edge of the ring.

“Kook!” you shouted, voice breaking but fierce.

He looked up, startled, then relief and guilt washed over his face.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered, but you didn’t care.

“You promised,” you scolded softly, stepping closer so only he could hear. “You promised you wouldn’t do this.”

He swallowed hard, eyes darkening. “I had to. For you.”

Your heart clenched.

“You idiot,” you breathed.

Before you could say more, Jungkook reached up, fingers tracing your cheek with surprising tenderness. “I’m sorry. But I’m here now. And I’m not leaving until I win.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes locked on his.

Then, with a playful smirk, he whispered, “Now, come on — if you want me to win, you better cheer louder than anyone out there.”

You laughed through your tears, heart pounding.

“I’m not letting you off the hook, princess.”

He winked.

And for that moment, surrounded by the roaring crowd and the flashing lights, the world narrowed down to just the two of you — fierce, tangled, and full of everything you’d never dared to say out loud.

—

The backstage corridor was quiet except for the faint hum of the crowd beyond the walls. Flickering lights cast a soft glow, making everything feel fragile and suspended in time. You stood close to Jungkook, your fingers still trembling slightly from the rush of emotions by the ring.

He leaned casually against the wall, but you could see the tension in his jaw and the way his eyes darted away every time they met yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

“So,” you said softly, breaking the silence, “you picked a hell of a night to get all mysterious on me.”

He cracked a small smile, one eyebrow quirking up. “You know me — I like to keep you guessing, princess.”

You rolled your eyes but your lips twitched. “That nickname again?”

“Can’t help it,” he teased, stepping closer, voice low. “You’re the only one who gets it.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, but you fought the urge to lean in. Instead, you kept your voice steady. “Why now, Jungkook? After all this time… why wait until right before you jump into something this dangerous to tell me?”

He looked down for a beat, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt, then back up, eyes soft but full of something like vulnerability. “Maybe I was scared. Scared I’d lose my nerve, or that telling you would change the easy way we have—”

“—The way we don’t have to say things out loud?” you finished for him, stepping closer. “Yeah, I get it.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “But sitting here, with you standing right in front of me, knowing this might be the last time for a while… I couldn’t keep it in.”

Your breath caught. “And what exactly couldn’t you keep in?”

He took a shaky breath, voice barely above a whisper as he stepped closer, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart seize.

“Y/N… I’ve been carrying this inside me for so long… pretending it was just friendship, pretending I was fine with that.” His voice cracked, vulnerability breaking through the usual calm. “But every time I saw you, every time I heard your laugh, felt your hand brush mine… it wasn’t enough. It never was.”

He swallowed hard, pain flickering behind his eyes. “I’ve been scared—scared to admit it, scared of what it would mean if I said it out loud. But I can’t hide it anymore.”

A pause. His breath hitched.

“I like you. More than a friend. More than I ever dared to hope. I’ve been falling for you — every single day — and it terrifies me how much I want you to feel the same.”

The silence hung thick, your breath catching in your throat.

Your hands trembled as you reached up, cupping his face. Tears spilled down your cheeks, but a shaky smile broke through your fear.

“You idiot,” you whispered, voice cracking. “You really are… but I’ve waited for you to say that for so long.”

You laughed softly through your tears, the tension in your chest melting just a little.

“I thought you’d never say it. I thought you were scared too.”

He brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his own eyes glistening now. “I was. Still am. But I needed you to know — before I walked into that fight.”

You leaned in, your forehead resting against his, breath mingling.

“You promise you’ll come back?” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” he said, playful light returning. “Hey, if I make it out alive, let me take you out on a proper date.”

You smiled through your tears, poking his chest lightly. “You better win. Or I’m crashing that fight myself.”

He laughed, pulling you into a gentle hug. “Deal. And princess?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not just fighting for the money anymore.”

Your heart squeezed tight as he pulled back, eyes shining with quiet determination.

“For you.”

—

The warehouse vibrated with noise — stomping feet, wild cheers, curses echoing off the iron walls. Smoke curled through the air, and the lights above the cage flickered harsh and cold.

You stood frozen near the edge of the ring, knuckles white around the metal bars, your heart hammering so loud it drowned out the crowd.

Jimin was right behind you, quiet but firm, his hand on your arm. “Stay still,” he murmured. “Watch him. He can handle this.”

But your eyes never left Jungkook.

He stood in the cage — alone — his fists clenched, his chest rising and falling slow, steady.

Across from him was a mountain of a man, bigger, heavier, brutal looking, grinning like he’d already won.

Jungkook licked his cracked lip, shaking out his arms, gaze steady, jaw tight.

I have to win. For her.

The bell clanged.

The crowd exploded.

They circled each other — slow at first, tension stretching tight as a wire. Jungkook feinted left, testing, dodging the first wild swing.

He’s fast… but that guy’s heavy. One wrong step…

A swing missed. Another grazed his arm. Jungkook ducked, countered — sharp jab to the ribs — the man grunted but grinned wider.

The crowd roared.

Suddenly — too fast — the fighter lunged, driving his shoulder into Jungkook’s chest.

The air cracked.

Jungkook staggered back, ribs screaming, the cage rattling behind him. But before he could recover—

BAM.

A brutal hook crashed into his jaw.

His head snapped sideways, sweat flying. His vision exploded in white.

BAM. Another punch — this time to the gut — folding him like paper.

“Jungkook!” you screamed, panic raw in your throat.

He stumbled, legs buckling — and then fell.

Face down. Hard.

The crowd gasped… then cheered wildly.

“STAY DOWN!” they chanted.

“STAY DOWN!”

Your body lunged forward, but Jimin caught you, wrapping both arms around your waist, holding you tight. “No — no, Y/N — wait. He’s not done. He’s not out. Watch.”

Your hands trembled violently. Your vision blurred. “Jimin — he’s not moving—”

“He’s got this,” Jimin said fiercely. “Just watch him.”

On the mat, Jungkook groaned, chest heaving, head spinning. Blood in his mouth. Lights flickering. His body screamed at him to stay down.

But then…

Through the haze — he saw you.

Your face — beautiful, tear-streaked, full of fear — pressed to the cage, crying his name.

His heart clenched so tight it burned.

No. Not in front of her. Not like this.

He pushed against the mat. Trembling. Slow.

Up to his knees. Then one foot. Then the other.

The crowd roared again — shock, excitement, disbelief.

His vision swam, blurry and broken — until he focused.

On you.

And only you.

A shadow moved beside him. The fighter.

The man chuckled darkly, leaning in close, sneering in his ear.

“That little princess yours?” the man mocked lowly. “Sweet. Maybe I’ll take her out when you’re done here. Maybe I’ll show her what a real man—”

Something in Jungkook snapped.

He turned — slow, dangerous — eyes dark as midnight.

And he smiled.

A low, wicked smile.

The fighter barely had time to flinch.

Jungkook exploded forward.

Fist to his jaw — CRACK.

Knee to the gut — THUD.

Left hook — blood sprayed.

The man stumbled, stunned — but Jungkook was already on him.

For her.

Another punch — vicious, wild, merciless.

For every tear she cried.

A jab to the face — teeth breaking.

For every night she struggled alone.

A savage blow to the temple — the man dropped to one knee.

And then — the last punch — an earth-shattering uppercut that lifted the man clean off the ground before he crashed down, flat, unmoving.

The crowd froze — silent.

Then a thunderous, deafening roar.

But Jungkook didn’t hear it.

He stood over the broken man, chest heaving, eyes blazing — staring straight at you.

At his girl.

The reason he rose. The reason he fought.

And the reason he would never lose.

“AND THE WINNER… BLUE CORNER!!”

The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, barely heard over the eruption of the crowd — a thunderous wave of cheers that shook the metal beams of the warehouse.

Jungkook stood in the center of the ring — chest rising and falling in deep, ragged pulls, sweat and blood dripping from his jaw, fists still clenched by his sides.

But his eyes — God, his eyes — were on you.

Locked. Unmoving. Like the crowd, the lights, the screaming world around him didn’t even exist.

The referee grabbed his wrist and yanked it up high.

“BLUE WINS!!!”

The crowd roared even louder. Stomping feet. Fists pounding the rails. Cameras flashing in frantic bursts.

You gasped, a messy sound of relief and joy breaking from your throat as your knees gave out — but Jimin caught you, holding you steady.

“He did it,” Jimin breathed beside you, grinning wide. “He really did it.”

You shook him off, stumbling toward the ring. “Jimin — boost me — I have to—”

He laughed softly and gave you a lift up onto the apron, pushing you gently under the ropes. “Go get him, princess.”

You scrambled inside — breathless, wild — heart hammering against your ribs.

And then… you froze.

The noise faded into a dull hum.

The air thickened — slow, heavy — like every second was stretching into eternity.

There he was.

Jungkook.

Standing tall under the harsh lights, battered, bruised — beautiful. His chest rose slow, steady. His hair damp, clinging to his forehead. Blood on his lip. But his gaze — soft and burning — was only for you.

Neither of you moved.

Just staring.

Drinking each other in.

Like a scene pulled straight from a movie — pure, slow, fragile.

A corner of his bruised mouth lifted.

“See, princess?” His voice was rough, broken, but teasing. “Told you I’d make it out alive.”

Your breath hitched.

Tears filled your eyes — falling warm and fast — and before another word could escape him, you ran.

Straight into his arms.

He caught you instantly, strong and trembling, pulling you tight against his chest as your arms flew around his neck.

You clung to him like life itself, sobbing into his shoulder — messy, gasping, relieved sobs. Your whole body shook.

“You stupid—stupid—idiot!” you cried into his neck. “Why did you do this to me?! You scared the hell out of me— I thought— I thought I’d lose you—”

His arms tightened around you, hard and warm. He dropped his head into your hair, breathing in like he needed you to stay upright.

“Shhh… I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

And slowly, knees weak, the two of you sank — collapsed — onto the mat, tangled together in the middle of the ring, the roar of the crowd swelling all around.

Your faces stayed close — breathing, shaking — forehead to forehead.

Jungkook cupped your cheek gently, brushing away your tears with the softest touch.

“I love you,” he breathed, voice trembling, eyes wet. “I love you, Y/N. I fought for you. I lived for you.”

Your chest broke open with a shaky, laughing sob. “You absolute idiot… you could’ve told me that before nearly dying, you know…”

He smiled, soft and ruined. “Would’ve been less dramatic.”

And before you could say more, he kissed you — hard, slow, desperate — like this was the only moment in the world that mattered.

The crowd exploded into wild cheers.

Cameras flashed.

Jimin whistled from the side, grinning wide as he cupped his hands around his mouth:

“YEAH! ABOUT TIME! LET’S HEAR IT FOR THEM!!”

The warehouse shook with the sound — whistles, shouts, stomping feet — but none of it touched you.

Only him.

Jungkook pulled back, panting softly, thumb tracing your jaw, eyes drinking you in like he was afraid to blink.

“Hey…” he whispered, teasing, raw. “Told you I’d win. For you.”

You laughed through your tears, leaning in, pressing your nose to his.

“I hate you,” you murmured, breathless. “But I love you more.”

His smile was crooked, beautiful, full of every unspoken promise.

The world spun — lights, sound, chaos — but here, in the center of the storm, it was just you.

Just him.

And finally… everything was exactly where it belonged.

—

“…and that was the first time your dad ever kissed me. Right there. In the middle of the ring, bruised, bloody, and grinning like the world was ours,” you finished softly, eyes warm with the weight of old memories.

Your sixteen-year-old daughter sat cross-legged beside you on the couch, hands clutching a cushion to her chest, wide-eyed and grinning.

“No way,” she gasped. “You’re telling me Dad actually confessed in the middle of a fight? Like in some K-drama?!”

You laughed gently. “Exactly like a K-drama. Lights. Cameras. The whole crowd cheering. He waited until the most dangerous, ridiculous moment to tell me he loved me. Typical Jungkook.”

She groaned dramatically. “Ugh… so extra. I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“I couldn’t help it,” you teased, ruffling her hair. “He was impossible not to love.”

She giggled but hugged the cushion tighter, suddenly shy. “…He’s gonna do the same to Jae when he gets here, isn’t he?”

“Oh definitely.”

As if on cue — the sound of keys at the front door.

“I’m home, princesses!” Jungkook’s familiar, deep voice called as the door opened. He stepped inside, pulling off his work jacket, shaking his slightly messy hair. “Did I miss the storytelling session?”

“Just finished telling her about the ring kiss,” you smiled, tilting your head. “You drama king.”

Jungkook smirked, walking over to drop a kiss on your cheek. “Best confession ever, no regrets.”

“Gross,” your daughter muttered, face burning. “Please don’t start kissing again—”

The doorbell rang.

Jungkook’s brows lifted. “Is that him?”

Your daughter leapt to her feet. “Don’t—! Don’t be weird, Dad—please—”

Jungkook grinned wide and opened the door.

Standing awkwardly on the porch was Jae — hair neatly combed, holding a small bouquet of baby’s breath flowers.

“Uh… h-hi, Mr. Jeon. I’m Jae. N-Nice to meet you, sir,” he stammered, bowing politely.

Jungkook eyed him slowly, arms crossing. “Hmm. So you’re the one taking my daughter out tonight.”

Jae swallowed hard. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Your daughter tugged Jae’s arm with a groan. “Dad… stop. You’re scaring him—”

Jungkook leaned forward, eyes narrowing teasingly.

“You know the rules, right? Home by nine. No funny business. And if you make her cry—” he flashed a slow, dangerous grin— “I still remember how to throw a punch.”

Jae paled. “Yes sir! No funny business! Nine o’clock, sir!”

You bit your lip, smiling behind your hand as your daughter smacked Jungkook’s arm. “You’re embarrassing me to death—”

Jungkook chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Can’t help it, baby. First dates are serious.”

He looked over at the trembling kid in front of him, lightly chuckling before patting his shoulder.

“I’m just playing, kid. You guys have a good time tonight yeah? Take care of her.”

He chuckles, fist bumping the boy, now with a more relaxed look on his face.

“Have a good night princess, I love you, text me if you need anything.”

You watch your husband kiss your daughter on the head softly, your heart melting at the sight.

They headed out the door, Jae nervously glancing back until they were gone, the soft click of the door behind them.

Silence settled.

Warm. Familiar.

Jungkook sighed, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as you leaned into his chest.

“First date already…” he murmured, pressing his lips into your hair. “Feels like yesterday I was dragging you into underground fights and confessing in the stupidest way possible.”

You chuckled, turning to look up at him. “Still the best confession I ever heard.”

“Still the best fight I ever won,” he whispered, eyes soft.

His thumb brushed gently along your jaw — and he leaned in, pressing a slow, quiet kiss to your lips.

“Worth every bruise,” he breathed against you.

“Worth every scar,” you whispered back, smiling.

And just like in the ring all those years ago…

Neither of you ever planned to stop fighting.

For this life.

For this love.

For each other.

a/n : okay highkey- why am I proud of myself for this…. also is it obvious I LOVEEEEE making jimin the matchmaker/the one that’s always their #1 supporter 😐 Anyways I hope you loved this one lovelies mwah mwah xx lmk what you think! 🥹

[jeonette]

say you're mine - jjk 18+

in which Jungkook sees Y/n's ex getting a little too touchy and talkative for his liking. And he's not having any of it. So he takes her home and fucks her silly.

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : possesive romance. jealous!koo

The bass thumped through the floor, vibrating up your legs as you stood near the drink table, laughing politely at something your ex just said.

He was too close. Leaning in like he used to. Fingers brushing your arm casually. Like he hadn’t completely fumbled you months ago.

You stepped back slightly—subtle, but enough.

But not enough for Jungkook.

He was across the room, drink in hand, eyes locked on the two of you. And he wasn’t smiling.

Jaw clenched. Chest rising slow and heavy. That unreadable look he always got when something inside him was burning. You knew it too well by now.

You offered a small smile when you caught his eye—trying to silently say It’s fine, I’m okay. But he was already moving.

He stalked across the room like gravity didn’t touch him, like the air parted just for his rage. You felt it before you saw it—his hand around your waist, pulling you close.

“Time to go,” he murmured against your ear, voice low and sharp. “Now.”

“Jungkook—”

“Not here. Don’t argue.”

You barely had time to register anything before he was steering you out the door, his grip never loosening. As soon as you hit the cold night air, he walked you straight to the car, opening the door like a gentleman—if only his fingers weren’t so tight on the handle.

The second he slid in beside you and shut the door, silence filled the space like smoke.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t even start the car. His hands were on the wheel, knuckles white.

You shifted in your seat. “Koo—”

He turned to you slowly, and that was worse than yelling.

“You think I didn’t see the way he looked at you?” His voice was soft. Controlled. But his eyes were wild.

“I didn’t—”

“You let him touch you,” he muttered, biting the inside of his cheek. “You laughed.”

“He was being friendly,” you said gently. “That’s all.”

“Too friendly.”

You reached for his hand. “Are you jealous?”

He finally looked at you—and fuck, that look. He wasn’t just jealous. He was seething.

“No,” he said. “I’m pissed. And I’m hard.”

That shut you up.

“You’re mine,” he added quietly. “You let him talk to you like that, touch you like that? I don’t care if he’s your ex. I should remind you who you belong to.”

He started the car.

And you didn’t say a word the whole way home.

-

You didn’t even remember getting inside.

One moment he was slamming the door to the apartment shut behind you.

The next—your back hit the wall, hard, but safe. His hands everywhere.

“You don’t get it,” he breathed between kisses. “That fucking look on his face when he touched you? Like he still had something over me?”

He pulled back just enough to yank your top over your head, tossing it aside.

“He doesn’t know a goddamn thing about you. He didn’t even deserve to look at you.”

You gasped when his hands slipped under your skirt, dragging your panties down in one swift motion.

“He didn’t deserve to breathe next to you.”

His voice cracked as he dropped to his knees.

“But I do.”

And then he devoured you.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was punishment—for every second that man got to stand next to you. For every look. Every word. Every breath he dared to take in your space.

You cried out his name—again and again—and each time only made him hungrier.

“Jungkook, please—”

He stood so fast it made your head spin. His lips shiny, chin slick. He wiped it with the back of his hand, staring down at you like he wanted to ruin you for good.

“Bed. Now.”

You scrambled backward, legs shaky, heart pounding.

He was already unbuttoning his jeans as he stalked after you.

When your back hit the mattress, he was on top of you in seconds.

“This body,” he whispered, pressing his mouth to your throat. “This mouth. These fucking eyes. They’re all mine.”

His cock quickly being set free, slamming in hard, and you gasped—nails raking down his back.

“Tell me.”

You could barely breathe. “I’m—fuck, I’m yours, Koo.”

“That’s right.” He slammed into you again. “No one else gets you.”

“I didn’t want him—only you—”

His hand wrapped around your throat, not tight—just enough to make your pulse race.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

You moaned. “I’m yours, Koo. Only yours.”

He growled against your skin, snapping his hips harder, deeper.

“You’re the only thing I care about,” he panted. “The only thing I’ll ever fucking protect like this. You don’t get it, baby. I’d burn the world down for you.”

Your vision blurred.

"Thought you were all giggly with him an hour ago, what happened now?" He slowed down, only to snap his hips harder into you without warning.

"Ohhhh my godddd, shit koo." You were starting to see stars at this point.

"Yeah? Right there? C'mon tell me. Does he fuck you like I do?" He practically growls.

"Nghh- Noo! S-hit soo big in me koo." Your words started to slur.

"Fucckk, yeah? Too big for you mama?" He teases.

"N-no, can take it."

He quickly stops and flips you over before you can comprehend what's happening.

Plunging into you again, this time he's animalistic.

"Shit, such a good girl, taking my dick like it's nothing." He groans out.

"Koo, so- close." You were able to make out.

"Yeah? Gonna cream my cock right now? Fucckkk- if you keep clenching like that I'm gonna nut in you princess." He picks up his pace, feeling you clench every milisecond.

"Wanna- Want youu to fill me up- ohh goddd."

"Yeah? Shit gonna give you want you want princess."

He kissed your tears away as he fucked you into the mattress, every movement raw and unrelenting.

“Shit kook—I’m gonna—”

“Let go,” he whispered. “Right here. While you’re mine.”

You shattered around him, moaning his name like a plea.

And when he followed—deep, hard, possessive—he wrapped both arms around you like a shield.

You were trembling when it was over.

Not from fear.

From everything he made you feel.

He pulled you close, chest to chest, and kissed your temple so softly it made your eyes sting.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much it scares me.”

You buried your face in his neck.

“I love you too.”

His arms tightened.

“He won’t ever come near you again,” he murmured. “I promise.”

You smiled.

Because in Jungkook’s world— His promises were war.

a/n : low-key wayyy too terrified about posting this. I have not written a smut in a whileeeeee. Butttt lowkey fuckin w it?? [ insert laughing emoji cus my fuckass computer doesn't have one ] anywayyyy....hope you lovelies fuck w it as well! mwah mwah lmk what you guys thought hehe xx

[jeonette]

after school hours - jjk

A classic 90's enemies to lovers skit. Mixtapes, rooftop hangouts, and harmless bickering between classes. But somewhere between hallway glances, stolen car rides, and one kiss under the stars, everything changed.

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : enemies to lovers ( my favv )

The classroom buzzed faintly with low chatter and the soft hum of the overhead fan, lazily spinning in the warm air. Pages rustled. A pencil rolled off a desk and clattered to the floor. Somewhere in the back, someone was half-asleep with their head against the window.

And in the middle of it all, Y/N was glaring at Jungkook.

"That’s not even the right metaphor," she muttered under her breath.

Jungkook didn’t look up from his notebook. “It is if you actually understood the poem.”

She scoffed. “I understood it fine. You just love the sound of your own voice.”

“Good thing it’s a nice voice, then.”

Jimin, sitting between them like some long-suffering referee, groaned softly. “You two are like divorced parents. I’m begging you—let me get through one class without a custody battle over Shakespeare.”

Y/N leaned over Jimin to poke Jungkook in the arm with her pen. “You think you’re so smart just because Mr. Kim actually likes your essays.”

“He likes them because they’re good. Unlike your tragic five-paragraph breakdown of 'Romeo + Juliet' where you called Romeo a walking red flag.”

“Am I wrong?”

Jimin stifled a laugh. Jungkook rolled his eyes but the corner of his mouth twitched.

The bell rang before Y/N could get another jab in.

Outside the classroom, muffled voices were already echoing down the hallway.

“Lunchtime!” Hoseok’s voice cut through the noise like a trumpet. “Let’s goooo, I’m starving.”

As students poured out into the corridor, Y/N grabbed her things and slung her denim jacket over one arm. Jimin stuck close by her side, nudging her playfully.

“You’re gonna marry him one day, y’know,” he whispered.

She scoffed. “I’d rather marry my Walkman.”

Jungkook, just ahead, turned slightly like he’d heard—but didn’t say anything. Just that little smirk again.

Outside the classroom, the rest of the crew was already waiting — Hoseok with a candy bar halfway to his mouth, Mina reapplying her lip gloss using the reflection in the vending machine, Jiwoo balancing her textbook on her head like a crown, and Yoongi leaning against the wall with his headphones in, pretending not to care.

“There they are,” Mina sang. “Finally. What took you so long—fighting again?”

“No,” Jimin said. “Just academic foreplay.”

Y/N elbowed him.

They all fell into step down the hallway, laughing, bumping shoulders, voices rising and falling in that chaotic harmony only best friends could make.

-

The cafeteria was full, so the group had claimed their usual spot — a half-shaded corner of the courtyard, where Hoseok’s guitar case was used as a bench and someone had definitely carved “KIM WAS HERE” into the picnic table.

Y/N popped a fry into her mouth while Jiwoo dramatically told the story of how she tripped over her own shoelaces that morning and almost took Mina down with her.

“It was like watching a slow-motion disaster,” Mina said between bites of her sandwich. “I literally felt my life flash before my eyes.”

“Don’t blame me!” Jiwoo whined. “These are the school’s floors, not mine. Slippery as hell.”

“Or maybe your boots are just for fashion, not function,” Yoongi muttered, eyes behind his sunglasses, sipping his iced tea.

Everyone laughed.

Jimin stole a grape off Y/N’s tray; she slapped his hand but offered him another anyway. Jungkook leaned back on his elbows beside her, legs stretched out in front of him, chewing gum and watching the clouds like he couldn’t care less about anything — except he kept glancing her way every now and then.

That was when Mark, Dongyeon, and Chanyeol strolled over, reeking of too much cologne and fake confidence.

Mark leaned against the end of the table. “Ladies.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Gentlemen. Or… whatever you are.”

Jiwoo choked on her drink.

Mina looked amused. “What’s up?”

“There’s a party at mine tonight,” Mark said. “Figured we’d invite the pretty half of this table.”

Chanyeol winked. “You girls should come. Bring that chaotic energy. We like that.”

Dongyeon added, “It’ll be fun. No parents, music, drinks... all the things good girls need to loosen up.”

The air shifted.

Yoongi pushed his sunglasses down, eyes sharp now. “You done?”

Mark blinked. “What?”

Jungkook sat up straighter. His gum hit the ground. “They said no.”

“No one actually said no,” Dongyeon muttered.

“They don’t have to,” Jimin said, voice light but eyes hard. “But since you’re not picking up on social cues, let me translate: no means no. Leave.”

Mark snorted. “Damn, relax. Didn't know they came with bodyguards.”

Hoseok stood. “And you didn’t come with manners.”

The courtyard quieted around them — not enough for teachers to notice, but enough for a few heads to turn.

Mark raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Message received.”

As the trio walked off, Chanyeol threw one last wink at Y/N. “Offer still stands.”

Before Y/N could respond, Jungkook said flatly, “She’s not interested.”

The second they were gone, Jiwoo broke the silence. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

“Ugh,” Mina rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t gonna go anyway. Their parties are just cheap beer and bad flirting.”

Y/N glanced at Jungkook, whose jaw was still tight. “You alright there, hero?”

He shrugged, not looking at her. “They’re just idiots. Doesn’t mean you have to listen to them.”

She smirked. “Aw, was that you caring?”

He gave her a look. “Don’t get used to it.”

“You so totally care,” Jimin said, grinning.

Jungkook kicked his shin under the table.

-

Mina’s place was their go-to hangout spot — big enough to fit the chaos of seven teenagers and loud enough that no one cared if someone accidentally knocked over a lamp during charades.

By the time they got there, shoes were already piled by the door and someone had claimed the remote. Jungkook tossed his backpack in the corner, flopped on the bean bag, and declared he wasn’t moving unless someone bribed him with snacks.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re already eating my chips.”

“Exactly. You bribed me without knowing.”

Mina and Jiwoo were arguing over which CD to play next — Backstreet Boys or Nirvana — while Hoseok tried to convince Yoongi to play a stupid card game he swore he wasn’t rigging.

Then the door creaked open.

Mina’s mom peeked in, smiling warmly. “Well, well, the usual suspects.”

“Hi, Mrs. Lee,” the chorus chimed.

She looked around the room like it brought her joy to see her daughter’s life laid out in laughter and tangled limbs.

“You all staying for dinner?” she asked.

“Only if you’re making your kimchi stew,” Jimin said brightly.

“Oh, I might be persuaded,” she teased — then turned to Mina, voice shifting.

“By the way, I ran into Mark’s mom at the store. She said Mark’s throwing a pre-end-of-semester party tonight. Apparently you girls turned down his invite?”

Mina froze halfway through detangling her hair. “Yeah, uh… wasn’t really our scene.”

Mrs. Lee gave her a pointed look. “Well, she seemed really disappointed. Said Mark had been looking forward to you girls coming. Poor thing, probably nervous about throwing a party.”

Jiwoo muttered, “Yeah, nervous is one word for it.”

But Mina’s mom had already decided. “You should go. Be polite. Just for a little while.”

The boys all exchanged looks. Jungkook’s eyebrows raised. “Did she just guilt-trip you into partying?”

“Apparently so,” Mina sighed.

“We’ll go,” Y/N said with a shrug. “We’ll make an appearance, sip some soda, judge his music choices, and dip.”

“You guys should come too,” Mina said, turning to the boys.

Jimin raised a brow. “You just assumed we’d follow you into social hell?”

“Yes,” Mina deadpanned. “Because you’re whipped for us.”

Hoseok clapped his hands together. “Alright, alright. One hour. That’s it. We go, we dance ironically, we leave.”

-

“No, you can’t wear that,” Jiwoo said, snatching a sparkly crop top out of Y/N’s hands.

“Why not?”

“Because I wanted it.”

The girls raided Mina’s closet like they were prepping for a concert instead of a high school party thrown by a boy who once got suspended for graffitiing his own locker.

Meanwhile, in the living room:

Jimin sprawled on the couch. “Should I change or do I already look too good for this party?”

“You wore that to biology,” Jungkook said.

“And still looked better than you,” Jimin replied.

Yoongi didn’t bother changing — he just swapped his hoodie for a leather jacket and called it a day.

By the time the girls came out — Mina in platform heels, Jiwoo in glitter, Y/N in a cropped tee and low-rise jeans — the boys actually stopped talking for a beat.

Hoseok let out a whistle. “Damn. Okay, maybe we do stay longer than an hour.”

Y/N looked at Jungkook. He looked… unreadable for half a second. And then he tossed her his car keys.

“You call shotgun.”

She caught them. “Why me?”

“Because if I have to suffer through Mark’s voice for an hour, at least I should have decent company.”

-

They stood outside Mina’s driveway, debating the car situation.

“Yoongi’s driving me,” Jimin said, already sliding into the passenger seat.

“Obviously,” Yoongi muttered.

Hoseok gestured to his car. “Girls, hop in.”

Mina paused. “Wait — where’s Y/N going?”

“I’ll take her,” Jungkook said before anyone else answered.

Y/N blinked. “You sure?”

He shrugged. “My car’s quieter.”

Mina raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything.

Y/N slipped into Jungkook’s passenger seat, tossing the keys back to him. “You always this generous with rides?”

He smirked. “Only with people who argue about Shakespeare like it’s a sport.”

The others pulled away, leaving just the two of them under the soft pink glow of the sunset.

The car doors shut.

The music turned low.

And for the first time all day — it was just the two of them.

Jungkook had one hand on the wheel, the other resting loose on the gearshift. The windows were cracked, letting in the breeze, and the stereo played something mellow — probably one of Yoongi’s burned CDs. Lo-fi with a bit of a grunge edge.

“You don’t mind giving me a ride?” Y/N asked casually.

He shrugged, eyes on the road. “Wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

“Could’ve made Jiwoo sit on Mina’s lap in Hoseok’s car.”

“I could’ve,” he said, smirking faintly. “But then you’d be stuck in a car with Dongyeon’s house in your future.”

She laughed. “God, imagine.”

“Don’t even joke about it.”

Y/N nudged his arm lightly. “What, jealous?”

Jungkook glanced at her, jaw twitching ever so slightly. “Of Dongyeon?”

“Of anyone,” she teased.

“Why would I be jealous?”

She tilted her head. “I dunno. You were awfully quick to shut them down earlier. Kind of heroic. Hot, even.”

He rolled his eyes, but she didn’t miss the way his grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

“They’re not good guys,” he said, quieter. “Not the kind who look at you the way they should.”

“And what’s the right way to look at me, Jeon?”

This time he glanced at her — really looked. And for a moment, his voice dropped, softer, less guarded.

“Like you’re not just something to win.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

The car settled into silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It was thick with all the things they weren’t saying.

Then she smiled, leaning back again, breaking the tension. “So philosophical all of a sudden. You trying to win me over with depth now?”

He scoffed. “Nah. Just tired of guys who think throwing parties gives them the right to hit on whoever they want.”

“Sounds like someone’s taking this personally.”

He didn’t answer at first. Then:

“Maybe I am.”

That hung in the air.

She looked over at him again, eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re being weird today.”

He glanced at her again, his voice low. “You make me weird.”

Her heart did a little stutter-step.

Before she could say anything, his phone buzzed in the console. He ignored it. Then it buzzed again. And again.

Y/N peeked over. “Someone’s popular.”

He glanced, saw the name, and rolled his eyes before flipping the phone facedown. “Just Hana. From science. She’s been weird lately.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Weird how?”

“She asked if I wanted to go to the party with her,” he said, casually, like it meant nothing. “I said no.”

“Oh?” Her tone was too light.

“Yeah.” A beat. “Didn’t want to go with anyone else.”

She looked out the window, hiding the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight.”

He shrugged, a little smirk forming. “Maybe I’m finally done pretending I don’t mean it.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. But when they pulled up to the party house, music thumping faintly in the distance, she turned to him.

“I like this version of you.”

“What version?”

“The one that’s just a little jealous. And not afraid to show it.”

He glanced at her, cocky smirk replaced by something gentler.

“Stick around tonight,” he said, voice low. “You might like what else you find.”

-

The bass was already thumping by the time Jungkook pulled up along the curb, headlights washing over a line of cars crammed into Mark’s street. Multicolored lights leaked out through the living room windows. People milled around on the lawn, red solo cups in hand, yelling over music and laughter.

He killed the engine and looked over at Y/N. “You sure you wanna do this?”

She leaned forward, peering at the scene. “Not even a little.”

“Wanna ditch and hit the convenience store instead? Instant ramen and peach soda?”

She smiled, tempted. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Just then, Yoongi’s car pulled up behind them. Hobi’s headlights followed seconds later.

The gang regrouped on the sidewalk, dressed like a band of misfits forced into a high school teen drama.

“I already regret this,” Jiwoo muttered, tugging her jacket tighter around her.

“You and me both,” Yoongi sighed.

Mina groaned. “Let’s just go in, make a loop, and get out.”

As they approached the porch, the music grew louder—fast-paced 90s hip hop, all bass and no taste. Jungkook lingered close to Y/N, his shoulder brushing hers as they climbed the steps.

One of them knocked.

A beat passed.

Then the door cracked open—and there stood Mark, frozen mid-sip of his drink.

“Oh.” His eyes trailed over the girls first. “Didn’t think you were coming.”

Mina crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, my mom ran into your mom.”

Mark blinked. “Seriously?”

“She made us come,” Jiwoo added flatly. “So say thank you to Mrs. Lee.”

His gaze flicked to the boys. “Didn’t know this was a plus-one situation.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

Jungkook stepped forward, calm but unreadable. “We’ll only be here a bit. We won’t get in your way.”

Mark hesitated—clearly annoyed, but too proud to say no. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”

He stepped aside, letting them in.

The second the door opened fully, music hit them like a wave. The living room was packed—kids dancing, some standing around the kitchen shouting over each other, the lights dimmed and replaced by neon strips and someone’s terrible strobe setup. A couple was already making out near the coat rack.

“Classy,” Yoongi muttered.

They filed in, awkwardly scanning the room.

“I need a drink,” Jimin said immediately.

“Peach soda doesn’t sound so bad now, huh?” Jungkook said to Y/N under his breath.

She grinned. “We’re committed. Let’s suffer.”

Hoseok motioned toward the kitchen. “We’ll do a lap. Grab snacks. Scout the exits in case we need to make a dramatic escape.”

As they moved deeper into the house, Mark disappeared into the crowd—but not before throwing one last look at Y/N.

Jungkook noticed.

Of course he noticed.

He didn’t say anything, but his hand brushed the small of her back, gently guiding her away from the doorway, his voice low in her ear.

“Stay close, yeah?”

-

The house was packed.

It smelled like cheap cologne, orange soda, and someone’s burned popcorn. The music bounced off the walls, some mixtape of late-90s bangers that had been left on loop. Every conversation was a shout, every hallway a squeeze.

Y/N stuck close to Jungkook’s side as they moved through the crowd, shoulder-to-shoulder in the worst way. Not that she minded. He was warm and familiar, even in the chaos.

He leaned in toward her, voice low in her ear. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, tugging on the hem of her borrowed top. “Just don’t feel like being here.”

He nodded. “Then don’t leave my side.”

“Wasn’t planning to.”

They found the rest of the group gathered near the kitchen counter, already mid-debate about whether or not the red punch had alcohol in it.

Jiwoo took a cautious sip and cringed. “That’s a no from me.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hoseok said, dramatically wiping down the countertop with a napkin. “The vibe here is sticky.”

Suddenly, a too-familiar voice rang out across the kitchen.

“Well, look who finally showed up.”

They turned just in time to see Chanyeol, drink in hand, flashing his signature too-wide smile.

He approached the girls first, eyes blatantly scanning Y/N, Mina, and Jiwoo.

“Thought you three were too good for this party,” he said, stopping a little too close. “Changed your minds?”

“Nope,” Mina replied. “Our moms did.”

Chanyeol smirked. “Lucky for me, then.”

Jungkook was beside Y/N in half a second, body angling slightly in front of hers.

Chanyeol noticed. Smirked wider.

“Relax, Jeon,” he said lazily. “Just saying hi to our guests.”

Jimin cut in with a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “And now you’ve said hi. Congrats.”

Chanyeol shrugged and moved off, disappearing into the crowd with a wink Y/N pretended not to see.

Once he was gone, Jungkook exhaled slowly.

“You okay?” he asked her again, voice softer.

She nodded, but tucked herself just a little closer to his side.

“You’re sticking to me like glue tonight,” he teased gently.

Y/N gave a half-smile. “That a problem?”

“No,” he said quickly, eyes flicking to her mouth for a second too long. “It’s not.”

They stood like that for a moment—too close to be casual, too quiet to be normal.

Then Jimin appeared beside Y/N with a can of soda in hand.

“For you, m’lady,” he said with a mock bow.

She laughed and took it. “You’re too good to me.”

Jimin bumped her shoulder with his. “You doing okay?”

She gave him a small smile. “Better now.”

He looked at her knowingly, then at Jungkook. “He hasn’t left your side.”

“I haven’t let him,” she said, a little too honest.

Jimin’s expression softened. “That’s how it should be.”

Across the room, Chanyeol was watching again.

And Jungkook noticed.

He reached for Y/N’s hand without a word—just laced their fingers together like it had always been that way.

She looked down at their hands, then up at him, heart beating louder than the bass.

“Just so he gets the message,” Jungkook said, voice low.

She nodded. But they both knew it wasn’t really about Chanyeol anymore.

-

The party continued to pulse around them, but Y/N was only half-aware of it. She could feel Jungkook’s hand still wrapped around hers, thumb brushing gently across her knuckles like he was grounding himself with the contact.

His touch was calm. His energy? Not so much.

Across the room, Chanyeol was still watching — too casual, too smug — while Mark had reappeared, chatting up two girls from their chemistry class and throwing occasional glances in Y/N’s direction.

Jungkook noticed every single one.

“You alright?” she whispered to him, tilting her head just enough so only he could hear.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Just leaned a little closer, his breath brushing her ear as he murmured, “They keep looking at you like they’re waiting for me to slip up.”

She blinked. “Well, you haven’t.”

He gave a soft huff of amusement. “Don’t plan to.”

Just then, Mark sauntered over — red cup in hand, grin a little too practiced.

“Didn’t think you guys would last this long,” he said, eyes sweeping over their intertwined hands.

Jungkook didn’t let go.

“We were about to bounce, actually,” Jiwoo said flatly, already reaching for her bag.

But Mark was quick. “Wait, hold up—me, Dongyeon, and Chanyeol were gonna head upstairs. Start a game.”

Y/N’s brow lifted. “A game?”

“Truth or dare,” he said smoothly. “Classic. Stupid. Fun.”

Jiwoo crossed her arms. “Sounds more like a setup.”

“C’mon,” Chanyeol chimed in, appearing behind him with that lopsided grin. “Just the group of us. Old-school. Like spin-the-bottle but less gross.”

“Can’t promise that,” Dongyeon added, smirking.

The girls exchanged a glance.

Mina rolled her eyes but smiled. “We’ll come only if the boys come too.”

Mark laughed. “Wasn’t gonna exclude them. Especially not Jungkook.”

He clapped Jungkook’s shoulder — a little too hard, a little too familiar.

Jungkook didn’t even blink. Just smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Lead the way.”

Y/N squeezed his hand once.

“Are we seriously doing this?” she whispered as they followed the group toward the stairs.

“Apparently.”

“You’re not gonna kiss Chanyeol if the bottle lands on him, right?”

He looked over at her, deadpan. “Only if you kiss Dongyeon.”

She burst into laughter, leaning into his arm, and just like that — the air between them was warmer again. But something electric hummed underneath.

Because they were heading upstairs.

And if there’s one thing high school parties in the 90s were famous for…

It was what happened when the dares got too real.

-

The group slowly filed in, forming a lopsided circle on the carpet. Jiwoo and Mina plopped down first. Yoongi settled beside Hobi near the corner, arms crossed and expression unreadable as always.

Y/N went to sit in the space between Jimin and an empty spot—clearly left for Jungkook.

Jungkook followed right after her.

But just as he stepped forward—

Chanyeol slid right in, shoulder bumping Jungkook’s arm as he casually dropped down next to Y/N.

“Oops,” Chanyeol said with a smirk, not even looking up. “This spot taken?”

Y/N blinked, startled. “Oh—uh—”

Jungkook froze.

For half a second, his jaw clenched. His eyes dropped to Chanyeol’s hand, which had conveniently braced itself on the carpet a little too close to Y/N’s leg.

But Jungkook said nothing. Just exhaled through his nose and moved to sit on the other side of Jimin, opposite her now.

Jimin noticed everything.

He leaned slightly toward Y/N and gave her arm a gentle nudge. “Don’t worry. He’s fine. He just doesn’t want to ruin the game by launching Chanyeol through a wall.”

Y/N tried not to laugh—but it bubbled out anyway.

Chanyeol didn’t notice. Or pretended not to.

Instead, he turned to her, lowering his voice with faux sincerity. “Haven’t seen you around much this semester. You good?”

She gave a polite nod. “Yeah. Just been busy.”

“With Jungkook?” he asked, with that too-sweet tone.

She tilted her head, answering without hesitation. “Yeah. With Jungkook.”

Across the circle, Jungkook smirked quietly to himself.

“Alright!” Hoseok clapped his hands, grabbing a battered glass soda bottle from the shelf. “Shall we get this 90s cliché started?”

“Let’s,” Yoongi muttered.

Mina spun first. It landed on Jiwoo, who ended up doing a silly dance move in the middle of the circle.

Then Jiwoo spun. “Truth or dare, Dongyeon?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to compliment Mark. With genuine emotion.”

The room howled.

It was lighthearted. Silly. And for a moment, everyone relaxed.

The bottle moved again. Jimin took a truth and admitted he once got detention for dancing too hard in gym class.

Then it was Chanyeol’s spin.

It stopped on Y/N.

“Oh boy,” Mina murmured under her breath.

Chanyeol leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Truth or dare?”

Y/N hesitated for half a beat. “Truth.”

“Alright,” he said, grin stretching. “Who in this room do you think has the biggest crush on you?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped up.

The room went quiet for a second, the energy shifting ever so slightly.

Y/N stared at Chanyeol. He was enjoying this.

Jimin, beside her, muttered under his breath, “You can say ‘pass’ if he keeps being weird.”

But Y/N just smiled sweetly and turned to glance at Jungkook across the circle.

Then, calmly, she looked back at Chanyeol.

“Easy,” she said. “The guy who knows not to ask questions just to prove a point.”

Oof.

Yoongi gave a short, quiet laugh.

Even Hoseok raised his brows. “Damn.”

Jungkook’s mouth tugged into a grin — small but real.

And for the first time all night, Chanyeol looked caught off guard.

The game continued, but now there was a silent undercurrent flowing between Y/N and Jungkook. Every glance, every brush of eye contact held more weight.

-

The game kept going, the circle relaxing again after the slight spike in tension.

Mark got dared to sing a random love ballad with his eyes closed. (He chose the cheesiest one possible — everyone regretted it.)

Yoongi, when asked for a truth, revealed he once broke a vending machine at school and walked away pretending nothing happened. (“We knew it was you,” Hoseok said flatly.)

Then Mina spun the bottle, and it landed on Hoseok.

“Truth or dare, dance captain?” she asked with a grin.

Hoseok dramatically sighed. “Dare.”

“I dare you to text your crush right now and say ‘I’m thinking about you.’ No context.”

Half the room screamed.

“Do I have to send it?” he groaned.

“Yes!” Mina shouted.

He pulled out his phone, muttering, “I swear, if this ruins my life…”

They watched as he typed and hit send, dramatically flinging his phone face down on the floor.

“That’s tomorrow’s problem,” Jimin said, high-fiving him.

The laughter continued. Y/N started to genuinely relax, resting her arm against Jimin’s and occasionally glancing at Jungkook, who caught her eye more than once from across the circle. Every time, it felt like their own private thread pulling tighter.

Then it was Jimin’s turn.

He spun the bottle with too much flair. It rattled, clinked, and landed…

…on Jungkook.

“Ohhh,” Mina teased. “Finally.”

“Truth,” Jungkook said coolly, brushing a hand through his hair.

Jimin grinned like he’d been waiting.

“Alright, be honest. When was the exact moment you realized you liked someone in this room?”

The group immediately ooooooh’d like a sitcom audience.

Y/N tried not to freeze.

Jungkook didn’t blink. He leaned back slightly, one arm draped over his knee, expression unreadable but eyes locked on Jimin’s.

“You’re assuming I like someone in this room.”

“You didn’t say no,” Jimin replied, smug.

There was a beat of silence.

Then Jungkook shrugged. “Okay. It was the second week of school last year.”

Y/N blinked.

“That’s… weirdly specific,” Jiwoo said.

Jungkook didn’t elaborate.

He just looked briefly—so briefly—at Y/N.

And her heart stuttered.

Mina leaned over to Jimin, whispering behind her hand, “We are SO steering the next one.”

Jimin nodded solemnly. “Let’s make history.”

Next spin landed on Jiwoo, who had to wear a kitchen glove on her head for the next five minutes. (“This is bullying,” she said while posing like a queen.)

Then Mina took her turn.

The bottle spun.

And it landed between Y/N and Jungkook.

The group paused. So did Y/N’s breath.

Mina tilted her head dramatically. “Hmmm… we’ll let fate decide.”

She reached over, adjusted the bottle slightly (not subtly), and smiled.

“Looks like it’s Y/N.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “That bottle didn’t even stop moving yet.”

“It did emotionally,” Jimin added, nodding.

Mina smirked. “Truth or dare, sweetheart?”

Y/N glanced across the circle. Jungkook wasn’t smirking like the others. He was just watching her—quietly.

“Truth,” she said.

Mina didn’t miss a beat.

“If you could kiss someone in this room tonight... would you?”

Another beat of silence.

Jiwoo gasped. “That’s not even fair!”

“It’s just a question,” Mina said innocently.

Jimin, beside Y/N, leaned in. “Be brave.”

Y/N looked down, fiddling with the hem of her jeans.

Then she glanced up—only at Jungkook—and said:

“Yes.”

Not loud. Not bold.

But sure.

And just like that, the room seemed to still for a second too long.

Someone cleared their throat. Mark started laughing awkwardly. Jiwoo broke the tension with a joke about wanting another soda.

But Jungkook?

Jungkook’s gaze didn’t waver.

-

The room hadn’t quite recovered from Y/N’s answer.

The air felt heavier now — not uncomfortable, just charged.

Y/N could feel Jungkook’s stare, even when she looked away.

Mina tried to act casual. “Okay. Who’s next?”

Jungkook leaned forward, grabbed the bottle without a word, and spun it with two fingers — smooth, controlled, almost lazy.

It clinked around the circle once… twice…

Then landed on Mina.

“Ugh,” she groaned dramatically. “Knew I shouldn’t have interfered with fate.”

“Truth or dare?” Jungkook asked, calm as ever.

She narrowed her eyes. “Dare.”

Jungkook tilted his head slightly. “I dare you… to pick two people in this room to switch seats.”

Mina blinked. “That’s your dare?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Use it wisely.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped.

Mina took about two seconds to think before pointing between Chanyeol and Jungkook.

“Switch.”

Chanyeol groaned. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she said sweetly. “You’re in Jungkook’s seat.”

Jungkook didn’t wait for permission. He stood, walked back across the circle, and this time, dropped down right beside Y/N.

No one said anything, but they didn’t have to.

Y/N could feel the heat of him now — how close he was, the subtle way his knee brushed hers as he leaned back on one arm, gaze forward but attention on her.

The game went on — more spins, more laughs, more noise — but none of it registered.

Because now it was Y/N and Jungkook.

Side by side.

His voice dropped near her ear when the others were distracted by Mark doing a handstand.

“Was your answer earlier for real?” he asked quietly.

Y/N turned slightly, just enough to meet his gaze.

“You asking because you want to dare me to prove it?”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

She raised a brow, whispering, “Then ask.”

A long pause.

Then—

“Mina,” Jungkook called across the circle, voice casual. “Dare for Y/N.”

Mina looked up from where she was watching Hoseok try to chug orange soda. “What?”

“She said truth before. I’m saying dare now.”

The group oooh’d again.

Y/N felt her pulse in her throat.

Mina, grinning like the chaos fairy she was, nodded. “Alright. Dare it is.”

Jungkook turned to Y/N — slowly, deliberately.

“I dare you to kiss someone in this room.”

Everything stopped.

The music downstairs. The laughter. Even the buzz of cheap light bulbs overhead seemed to fade into static.

Y/N didn’t hesitate.

She leaned forward, caught Jungkook’s collar between her fingers, and kissed him.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t overdone.

But it was real.

Too real for a party game.

His hand came up to her jaw, warm and steady, holding her like he’d wanted to for ages.

No one spoke. No one dared to.

Because even if it was just a dare…

Everyone in the room knew:

That kiss wasn’t part of the game.

-

The party buzzed on without them.

Laughter still echoed down the hall, muffled behind closed doors. Music thumped faintly beneath their feet. But none of it mattered anymore.

Because Y/N was slipping on her jacket, and Jungkook was already holding the door open for her.

They didn’t say anything as they stepped out into the cool night air.

Just moved together — side by side, like muscle memory — until they reached his car parked on the street out front, quiet under a flickering streetlamp.

Jungkook opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

She did.

He walked around, climbed into the driver’s seat, but didn’t turn the key.

Instead, he leaned back, exhaled slowly, and tilted his head up toward the sky.

“Look,” he said softly. “You can actually see stars tonight.”

Y/N followed his gaze.

The sky above was velvet-dark, scattered with tiny pinpricks of light — rare for their town, rare for nights like this.

“You ever think about how crazy that is?” she murmured. “That those stars are millions of years old? And we’re just… here. Existing beneath them for a second.”

Jungkook looked at her. Not the stars.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think about that every time I’m near you.”

She turned to him, breath catching.

“I’m serious,” he added, quieter now. “You walk into a room, and everything slows down. Like the universe forgot what it was doing and just… paused.”

Y/N blinked. “That’s… kind of the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

He gave a lopsided smile. “Well, I don’t say it to just anyone.”

They fell into a comfortable silence. The kind only possible between two people who’ve known each other too long to pretend. The kind that held a weight — not of pressure, but of possibility.

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his arms on the steering wheel.

“You meant it, didn’t you?” he asked. “During the game.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Did you?”

He smiled again. “You kissed me first.”

She laughed softly, turning toward him. “Only because you dared me to.”

“Only because I wanted you to,” he said.

Her heart fluttered. Like it used to when she was younger. Like it always did around him.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers on the center console.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low, “I don’t know what this is. I don’t even know when it started. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since… forever.”

Her fingers turned and laced through his.

“You don’t have to,” she said gently. “I don’t want you to.”

The silence returned — this time warmer, wrapped in headlights and starlight and soft glances that said everything words couldn’t.

Neither of them said “I like you” or “let’s make this official”.

They didn’t need to.

Because right then, in the quiet hum of Jungkook’s car, watching the sky that had seen them grow up…

They knew something had changed.

And neither of them wanted to go back.

-

The drive home was quiet — but in the best way.

Jungkook had the windows rolled down halfway. The cool night breeze slipped in, playing with strands of Y/N’s hair as she leaned back in her seat, half-smiling to herself.

He glanced at her when they stopped at a red light. “What?”

She shrugged, barely looking over. “Nothing.”

“Liar.”

She turned to him with a lazy grin. “Okay. Maybe I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

She hesitated. Then, softly: “About how weird it is that… tonight felt kind of perfect.”

His grip on the steering wheel relaxed.

“Yeah,” he said. “It really did.”

They pulled up in front of her house a few minutes later.

The porch light was still on — a warm, yellow glow washing over the front steps. The rest of the house looked dark.

Jungkook stepped out first, rounding the car to open her door without even thinking.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “You know I’m capable of doing that myself.”

“I know,” he said. “Still wanted to.”

She stepped out, and for a second, they just stood there on the path, their arms brushing.

The energy between them had changed since the party — softer now, but still buzzing underneath their skin.

At the doorstep, they slowed.

Neither made a move to unlock the door just yet.

“So…” she murmured.

“So…” he echoed.

They both laughed quietly. The air smelled like summer grass and sleep.

“I had fun,” she said.

“I had more.”

She raised a brow. “Competitive even now?”

“Only when it comes to you.”

She rolled her eyes again — but this time, she was smiling too wide to hide.

He stepped a little closer.

The space between them was so small now.

“I’m really glad you kissed me,” he said softly.

Y/N’s breath caught. “I’m really glad you dared me to.”

And then, finally—

A kiss.

Not like the one at the party.

This one was gentle. Slow. The kind of kiss that said we don’t have to rush anything — we’re here now.

It lingered for a moment, both of them quietly afraid to pull away.

But then—

A small voice from behind the screen door broke the silence.

“Oooohh I am so telling Mom.”

Y/N jumped, nearly stumbling back as the porch light flickered behind the front window.

Her seven-year-old sister stood there with a juice box in her hand and the smuggest look in the universe.

“Mina!” Y/N gasped. “What are you—why are you awake?!”

Mina just blinked innocently. “I was getting apple juice. And then I saw you kissing a boy.”

Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous laugh.

Mina pointed straight at him. “You’re really handsome.”

Y/N groaned. “Oh my god.”

“Are you her boyfriend?” Mina asked, eyes wide.

“Uhhh…” Jungkook looked like he was about to melt into the ground. “Something like that?”

“Cool,” she said, then turned to Y/N. “Can I be the flower girl at your wedding?”

“Mina, GO TO BED!”

Still grinning, Mina turned and walked back inside, mumbling something about “diaries” and “blackmail.”

Y/N covered her face with both hands.

“I swear, she’s not usually like that.”

Jungkook just laughed, eyes crinkling as he stepped backward down the porch steps.

“I like her. She’s chaotic. Like you.”

She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He smiled. “Night, Y/N.”

And with one last look — the kind that held way too much affection for a single glance — he turned and headed for his car, disappearing down the street as the porch light flickered softly behind her.

-

The morning sun was lazy, bleeding gold across the sidewalk as Y/N walked beside Jimin on their usual route to school.

He was sipping iced coffee from a cup twice the size of his hand, eyebrows raised as he watched her try (and fail) to hide a very suspicious smile.

“…So,” he said, drawing it out.

“So,” she replied.

“You’ve been quiet for approximately two and a half blocks, and you never shut up in the morning. Something’s up.”

She side-eyed him. “I don’t always talk.”

“You once recited your entire math homework aloud just to ‘hear how stupid it sounded.’”

Y/N tried not to laugh. “Okay, fair.”

“So…” Jimin bumped her arm lightly. “You and Jungkook.”

She blinked. “What about us?”

He gave her a deadpan look.

“Y/N, please. You sat next to each other at lunch yesterday like two magnets that just learned what touch was. And you haven’t stopped smiling since we left your house.”

She hesitated, cheeks warming.

“We kissed,” she said quietly.

Jimin nearly tripped on the curb. “I knew it! I knew there was weird tension at that party!”

“He kissed me back,” she added.

Jimin beamed. “You say that like it’s not the most obvious thing in the world that he’s obsessed with you.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, swatting him, but she was grinning now.

They reached the school gates, voices blending into the morning rush. Students poured in from all sides, some dragging feet, others already cracking jokes and chasing each other up the stairs.

But before they could even reach the front steps—

“Y/N!”

Chanyeol’s voice cut across the crowd like a bad ringtone.

She winced. Jimin rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle he didn’t see the future.

Chanyeol jogged up beside them, brushing his messy hair out of his face.

“Hey,” he said, giving Y/N a grin. “You left early last night.”

“Yeah, just got tired,” she said, keeping it short.

Chanyeol leaned a little too close. “We didn’t even get to finish talking.”

“We didn’t start talking,” Jimin muttered.

Chanyeol ignored him. “Anyway, I was thinking maybe we could hang out this weekend? Just us. Something chill—”

“She’s busy,” Jimin cut in flatly.

Chanyeol blinked. “How would you know?”

“Because she has better taste.”

Y/N sighed, already inching toward the doors, but Chanyeol wasn’t done yet.

“I don’t get it,” he said, louder now. “We’ve known each other forever—why are you acting like I’m some creep?”

“Because you are,” Jimin said, smile sharp.

“Dude, back off.”

Chanyeol glared, but Jimin stood his ground, and after a tense pause, Chanyeol scoffed and walked off, shaking his head.

Y/N sighed in relief. “Thanks.”

Jimin just gave a tiny smirk, tapping his coffee cup like he’d just come up with something evil.

“…What?” she asked warily.

“Oh, nothing,” he said sweetly. “I just had an idea.”

-

The courtyard was packed during lunch — bright sun, open tables, and every group claiming their territory across the grass.

Jimin sat beside Jungkook, chewing on his straw, leaning in like he was sharing state secrets.

“You want me to what?” Jungkook said, blinking.

“Just one kiss. Quick. Soft. Maybe a little showy,” Jimin said. “You don’t even have to dip her dramatically, though that would be iconic.”

“Hyung…”

“Chanyeol won’t stop pestering her,” Jimin said seriously. “And Y/N doesn’t like confrontation. But you? You’re the statement.”

Jungkook glanced across the courtyard. Y/N was sitting with Jiwoo and Mina under the big tree, legs crossed, laughing at something.

And Chanyeol was, not so subtly, hovering nearby.

Jaw tightening, Jungkook stood.

Jimin grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

Across the grass, Y/N looked up just as Jungkook approached — hands in his pockets, jaw sharp under the sun, confidence in every step.

He didn’t say anything.

Just walked up.

She stood instinctively, confused. “Jungkook—?”

Before she could finish, he gently cupped her face, leaned down, and kissed her.

Right there.

In front of half the school.

It wasn’t aggressive. Wasn’t rushed.

Just a kiss that said she’s mine. This is real. We’re done playing around.

When he pulled back, her eyes were wide — stunned, heart thudding, hands still frozen midair like she forgot how to move.

And then he smiled — really smiled — and turned, walking back to his table without a word.

Around them, the courtyard exploded.

“OHHHHHHH!”

“WHAT?!”

“HOLY—”

Jiwoo screamed. Mina screamed. Someone from the basketball team yelled, “FINALLY.”

And off to the side…

Chanyeol stood completely still.

Mouth slightly open.

Then he turned and walked away without another word.

Defeated.

Jimin leaned back with his arms crossed, sunglasses on indoors, sipping from his straw like a smug villain.

"Park jimin you wizard. How'd you pull this off?" Hoseok gasped next to him, seeing the look on Jimin's face was enough to tell he was behind this.

He simply smirked. "I did nothing really, they did this to themselves."

"Chanyeol's probably pissed." Yoongi says with a pleased smile, eyes looking back down at his ukulele from the newly announced couple.

Y/N turned slowly back to her seat, dazed.

“Are you okay?” Mina asked between gasps of laughter.

“I… I think I just got publicly claimed,” Y/N whispered.

And somewhere in the distance, Jungkook smiled.

-

Later that night, the sky over town stretched wide and quiet. The streets had gone still. The party echoes and school gossip had long since faded.

But up on Jungkook’s rooftop — a little above it all — two people sat side by side on a blanket, legs dangling over the edge, the night humming gently around them.

The stars were scattered like salt, and the air was cool enough to press them closer.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Y/N murmured, nudging him with her shoulder.

He looked over, grinning. “Did what?”

“You know what.”

“Oh, you mean the epic, public, once-in-a-lifetime kiss in front of the entire school?”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “You’re so annoying.”

“You kissed me back,” he said.

“You kissed me first.”

They both laughed quietly.

The kind of laugh that felt like something new beginning.

“Was it too much?” he asked after a pause. “Too showy?”

Y/N looked at him for a long moment.

And then, simply: “No. It was perfect.”

A breeze drifted between them, and she leaned into his side, head on his shoulder.

They sat like that for a while. No rush. No pressure.

Just two people who had always almost been something… now finally were.

“You know,” she said after a while, voice soft, “I used to think we were just too different.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. You’re loud, I’m quiet. You’re chaos, I’m… slightly less chaos.”

He smirked. “You’re a different kind of chaos.”

She giggled, then went quiet again.

“But then,” she added, “I realized maybe that’s the point. We balance each other out.”

He looked down at her, warmth in his eyes.

“You’re my favorite balance,” he whispered.

She smiled.

“You’re my favorite everything.”

And then he kissed her again.

Not like the one from earlier — not to prove anything, not to claim or perform or make a scene.

Just to feel her smile against his lips.

And when they pulled apart, the stars still above them and the town still asleep below—

“You used to fight me over grammar, you know?” Y/N said, bumping her shoulder against his.

Jungkook smirked. “Only so I could talk to you without sounding obvious.”

She laughed. “Obvious about what?”

He looked at her — soft, a little smug. “Liking you.”

Her breath caught just slightly, but she covered it with a playful eye roll. “Still never beat me in English though.”

He shrugged, that same boyish grin tugging at his lips. “Maybe not. But I did get the girl.”

a/n : btw if you can't already tell, I loved writing this and am currently kicking my feet over my own story and I usually NEVER re-read my stories after it's posted. hehehehe, like, reblog and lmk what you lovelies think below mwahh

[jeonette]

my favourite chapter - jjk

Jungkook and Y/n were each other’s first everything. But the world asked them to choose between love and growth. They didn't want to stop loving each other, but then again, isn't loving someone, letting them go?

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : ride or die love trope. Bittersweet.

The glow from the TV cast flickers across the apartment walls, soft and lazy, the volume a low hum beneath the quiet. A forgotten movie played — something romantic and slow, the kind of film Y/N always said she liked but never finished watching.

She was curled beneath Jungkook’s arm, her head tucked into the slope of his shoulder, one leg draped across his lap. She wore his hoodie, sleeves long enough to swallow her hands, and she smelled like laundry and jasmine and sleep.

Jungkook didn’t move much, but his thumb kept tracing the same circle against her thigh, over and over again.

His eyes were half on the screen, half on her — like he couldn’t decide which was more comforting.

“You’re warm,” she mumbled, voice thick with drowsiness.

He smirked. “I know. That’s why you’re always stealing my hoodies.”

“And your socks. And your pillows.”

“You’re literally turning into me.”

Y/N tilted her head up, smiling sleepily. “That’s the goal.”

Jungkook leaned in and kissed her nose — slow, soft, lingering. “If we’re both you, we’ll never argue again.”

She laughed — that sound he loved so much it hurt sometimes. But the moment passed too fast, and the quiet settled again.

Jungkook looked at his phone. A few unread messages from the group chat. A reminder for tomorrow’s shoot. A text from his manager about a last-minute meeting in the morning.

He clicked the screen off. Turned his face back toward her.

“Sorry I couldn’t call last night,” he said gently. “I didn’t finish filming until three.”

She shrugged, but the movement was too casual. “It’s okay. I figured you were busy.”

That was always the word. Busy.

She meant it — she understood. But the way her voice softened around it made his chest ache.

“I missed you,” he said anyway.

“I know.” Her fingers slipped under his shirt, just to feel his skin. “I missed you too.”

They sat like that for a while — quiet, close. Not speaking, but not disconnected. It was the kind of silence built between people who knew each other too well to need words.

But even then, there were small fractures.

She was leaving in two days to visit her parents. He had rehearsals every night that week. They hadn’t shared breakfast in almost two weeks. And the last time he’d asked how school was going, she’d said, “It’s fine,” then changed the subject.

Neither of them mentioned any of it now.

Instead, he shifted so he could cradle her more fully in his lap, hands on her back beneath the hoodie, his lips brushing her forehead.

“Can I ask you something?” he said quietly.

She nodded against his chest.

“If I weren’t… this,” he murmured, “If I weren’t always traveling or gone or… just too much sometimes—do you think it’d be easier?”

Y/N blinked up at him, frowning.

“Easier?” she echoed. “Maybe. But I didn’t fall in love with easy, Jungkook.”

He looked at her for a long moment. And then — slowly, like she was glass — he kissed her. Deep, aching, reverent.

Her hands curled into his shirt. She kissed him back with the same quiet desperation — like they were both afraid to let the moment slip.

And for a while, neither of them spoke.

_

Hobi’s apartment smelled like instant ramen, candle wax, and coffee — chaotic, lived-in, and somehow always comforting.

Jimin had his feet kicked up on the coffee table, laptop balanced on his thighs as he clicked furiously through their shared presentation slides. Hobi was cross-legged on the floor, a highlighter clenched between his teeth as he sifted through printouts like he was on a mission.

Y/N sat at the dining table, surrounded by open notebooks, empty mugs, and the crumbled remains of snacks they had no intention of cleaning up until absolutely necessary.

“This slide looks like it was made by a sleep-deprived pigeon,” Jimin muttered, squinting at the screen.

“That’s because you made it,” Hobi said flatly.

“Okay, rude—”

“I’m just saying, if we crash and burn during this presentation, I’m blaming you and your aesthetic choices.”

Y/N snorted, eyes still fixed on her own laptop. “Guys, it’s literally a group project. If we crash and burn, we all go down together.”

“I’m not going down for him,” Hobi said dramatically, pointing at Jimin with the highlighter like it was a dagger.

“Excuse me,” Jimin said, affronted. “I bring 'charm' to this team.”

“You bring barely cited sources and too many transitions.”

Their bickering continued, but it was all light — the kind of banter only born from years of friendship and caffeine-fueled all-nighters. Y/N just smiled and tuned them out as she refreshed her email out of habit.

It was meant to be mindless.

A reflex.

But then her screen blinked.

Subject: Full-Time London Scholarship Confirmation — International Academic Award Recipient

Y/N blinked. Once. Twice.

Her heart did a weird little flip.

“…Y/N?”

Jimin’s voice barely cut through the sudden fog in her head.

She stared at the subject line again, then opened the email.

Congratulations. You’ve been awarded a full academic scholarship to continue your graduate studies in London. Program starts this September. Full relocation support included. We hope to see you soon.

Her stomach dropped — not in panic, but in shock. Like the ground had suddenly tilted beneath her chair.

“Y/N?” Hobi leaned over from the floor, frowning. “You good?”

She finally looked up. “Holy shit.” She managed to choke out.

Jimin and Hobi both give each other a look, before approaching her to see what she was staring at.

She swallowed and turned the screen toward them.

The silence that followed was almost reverent.

Hobi’s eyes widened. “Whoa, wait is this? Oh my god."”

“Holy shit,” Jimin breathed. “This is huge.”

“I didn’t even think I’d get it,” she whispered. Her voice sounded far away.

"I'm so happy for you dude, oh my god this is actually insane." Jimin breathes out, instantly pulling her in a side hug, eyes still reading the screen in front of them.

"Yeah, congratulations y/n." Hobi smiled gently, also giving her a side hug.

They both knew that even though this confirmation was highly anticipated, she had always said that she never knew if she was actually going to be able to go.

It was her dream, but this was her home.

“How long is the program?” Hobi asked gently.

Y/N scanned the message again. “Two years. With possible job placement after.”

“Damn.” Jimin sat back, whistling. “That’s not just school. That’s, like… life-changing.”

“London, though…” Hobi glanced at her carefully. “That’s far.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

The words sat heavy in the room. She wasn’t sure why.

Maybe because the moment she read that email, one thought had carved itself deep into the back of her mind — unspoken but immediate.

All she could think about is,

What about Jungkook?

He wasn’t just a boyfriend. He was her person. But he was also… busy. Always moving. Always working. And she had her own future now, too — one that suddenly had a very real, very wide door standing open in front of it.

“You okay?” Jimin asked.

She gave him a small, uncertain smile.

“I don’t know yet.”

"Let it rest, you'll figure it out."

-

The night was quiet, the city wrapped in that late-hour hush where even the neon felt softer.

Y/N stepped into the building with her hood up, the weight of two takeout bags warming her hands. She waved at a staff member she vaguely recognized, offering a polite smile as she slipped past cables, lights, and faint echoes of music still hanging in the air.

Jungkook was still filming, as expected — in the corner of the studio under soft lighting, looking unfairly beautiful even in exhaustion. His hair was damp from sweat, shirt clinging to his back, silver chain glinting beneath the lights.

She didn’t say anything, just watched for a few seconds. He moved like he always did — with focus, precision, intensity. The kind of devotion he never quite knew how to switch off.

Her heart tugged.

Even after everything — even with the email still burning in her inbox — he was still her person.

“Y/N?” one of the stylists spotted her. “He’s almost done. You can wait in the corner.”

She smiled. “I brought food. Thought I’d take him home after.”

“Thank god. He hasn’t eaten since, like, five.”

Y/N quietly set the food down on a side table and took a seat in the shadows, just watching him work.

Ten minutes later, the director called, “Cut!” and Jungkook rolled his shoulders out with a groan, flexing the tension from his arms.

When he spotted her, his whole expression changed.

His tired eyes lit up.

“Hey, baby" His voice came out rough, surprised, almost like he didn’t believe she was real.

Y/N stood and smiled. “I figured you’d forget to eat.”

He didn’t reply at first. Just walked over and pulled her into a hug that lasted a little too long, arms tight around her waist like he needed to hold onto something solid.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her hair.

“I saw you yesterday,” she whispered, grinning.

“Not the point.” He placed light kisses on her face, causing her to giggle.

They sat together on the little couch tucked beside the set, sharing bites of rice and grilled meat from the containers. His legs brushed against hers. Every now and then, she’d steal a piece of meat off his chopsticks and he’d fake-annoyedly swat at her hand, even though he smiled every time.

It was warm. Familiar. Normal.

But even now, it was there — the unspoken thing between them.

He kept checking his phone. She kept zoning out. Both of them noticed, but said nothing.

“Can you go home after this?” she asked, curling into his side.

Jungkook looked at the time. “Yeah. Should be done soon.”

She nodded, fingers fiddling with the drawstring of his hoodie.

They stayed like that for a while — quiet, gentle, almost pretending the real world didn’t exist.

Until the studio door opened.

“Jungkook,” his manager called, walking over quickly. “Sorry — we need you for a few more shot. Lighting wasn’t right in scene four, eight and nine, and the director wants a backup take.”

Jungkook blinked. “Right now?”

“Yeah, sorry. We know its pretty late, but you're already behind on schedule. This shoot with YSL needs to finish by today.”

“Yeah, i'll be out in a few.” He replies. The man walking away.

Y/N tried to keep her face neutral. She really did.

But something flickered. A twitch of the mouth. The shift of her eyes.

And then, under her breath — barely audible — she murmured:

"Of course, again."

It was soft.

But he heard it.

Jungkook froze, then slowly turned to face her.

“What?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Did you just say ‘of course’?”

“I didn’t mean anything.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

She sat up straighter. “Jungkook. It’s fine. Just go finish your shot.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Say what you meant.”

And just like that, the air tightened.

Y/N looked away. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m just… tired.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, standing up. “No, this is about more than tonight. You’ve been distant for weeks.”

“I haven’t—”

“You have.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Y/N, I’m doing my best. I’m showing up when I can. I thought—”

“I know you’re doing your best,” she cut in, voice rising. “I’m not blaming you, Jungkook. But this is what it always is. Plans pushed back. Dinners rescheduled. One more shoot. One more meeting.”

He went quiet.

Y/N stood slowly, wrapping her arms around herself. Her voice cracked a little when she spoke again.

“I didn’t come tonight to fight. I just wanted to be with you. Like we used to be.”

Jungkook looked at her for a long, silent moment. Then:

“So what? You’re giving up?”

The words hit like a slap.

And maybe he didn’t mean it that way. But it landed hard, anyway.

Y/N's chest tightened.

“No,” she said softly. “But I think… I think I have to tell you something.”

He swallowed. “What?”

She hesitated. Just for a second.

Then — all in one breath:

“I got offered a full scholarship. For grad school. In London. Starting this September.”

Jungkook’s face blanked.

“What?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything yet,” she whispered, eyes wide, vulnerable. “I just found out. I didn’t know how. I didn’t know when. I didn’t want to add to your stress or make you feel like I was—”

“You’re moving to London?”

His voice wasn’t angry. Just hollow.

She nodded once.

“I don’t know if I’ll go. I haven’t decided. I just… I needed time to think.”

He sat down again, slowly, like the floor beneath him had vanished.

“You weren’t going to tell me.”

“I was, Jungkook. I just…” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t want this moment to feel like this.”

He said nothing.

The silence stretched.

And then, softer than anything that came before it:

“Do you want to go?”

Y/N stared at him.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s everything I’ve worked for. But you’re— You’re…”

"B-ut, you can't just drop a bomb on me like this. What- what is even going to happen?" He stutters.

Barely tearing, but only because he was holding it in.

He met her eyes, and for once, they didn’t have answers for each other. Just pain.

-

It had rained earlier.

Now, the apartment smelled like wet pavement, jasmine tea, and the faint trace of his cologne clinging to the hoodie draped over the chair.

Y/N was seated on the floor, back against the edge of the couch, papers spread around her like a broken halo — scholarship documents, flight options, apartment listings in London she wasn’t even sure she wanted to look at yet.

Jungkook watched her from the doorway of the kitchen, silent, holding a half-full mug he hadn’t touched in twenty minutes.

She didn’t look up, but she knew he was there. She could feel it — the weight of him in the room, the tension like static in the air.

He finally broke the silence.

“What if I went with you?”

She froze.

Very slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“What?”

He stepped forward, setting the mug on the table with more force than necessary. “To London. For two years. What if I just… went with you?”

Her breath caught.

“Jungkook…”

“I’ve been thinking about it. Really thinking,” he said, crouching in front of her. His eyes were shining, but his voice was steady — too steady. Like he was holding something back. “I could take time off. Pull back from the industry. Just for a while. Just to be with you.”

Her hands gripped the edge of the paper in her lap. “You’re serious?”

“I’m dead serious,” he said, eyes never leaving hers. “Y/N, I don’t want to be without you. Not for two years. Not for one. If it means giving this a real shot — just us — then I’ll do it.”

Her eyes filled, throat burning. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is your dream,” she whispered. “You’ve wanted this since before I even knew you. You fought so hard to get here. You’re selling out shows, your name’s everywhere, your music’s finally reaching the world—”

“And none of it means anything without you.” His voice cracked.

Y/N shook her head. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“No, Jungkook.” She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. “You love music. You love being on that stage. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“I do,” he whispered. “But I love you more.”

"You know this is hard for me too. I can't imagine being without you. Four years of our relationship is not something I want to let go of kook, you know that."

Silence.

Heavy. Sharp.

The kind of silence that shakes foundations.

Y/N pulled her hand away and stood, pacing now, her voice trembling. “But kook, you can’t give everything up for me.”

“I’m not giving it up,” he argued, rising too. “Just putting it on hold.”

“And what happens after two years? What if I choose to stay in London? You and your music might be forgotten. Two years is no joke jungkook. Do you really want that?”

“I want you.”

“And I want you! So much.” she snapped, turning on him. Her eyes were glassy now, her fists clenched at her sides. “But not like this. Not if it means you resenting me every time someone asks why you disappeared. Not if it means you wake up one day and wonder what the hell you gave everything up for.”

“I’d never resent you.”

“You say that now.” Her voice was quiet. “But one day… maybe not.”

He stepped forward, close enough to touch, but didn’t.

"If i cant be apart of your life, I'm going to make sure you don't give up yours before I leave."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and this time he reached up, wiping them away with the gentlest touch.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much it makes everything else feel small.”

“I know,” she choked. “But that’s why I can’t let you come with me.”

His hand dropped slowly.

And then they stood there, in the middle of a quiet apartment that had seen so much laughter, so many kisses, so many whispered promises.

All of it now unraveling.

“Y/N…” he said, barely able to get the word out. “Are we really going to do this?”

She nodded.

“We have to, baby."

He sat down on the edge of the couch like someone had punched the air out of him.

And she stood there, papers rustling at her feet, trying not to collapse.

“I thought love was supposed to be enough,” he said after a moment.

“It is,” she whispered. “But so is purpose. So is growth. So is you, Jungkook.”

He looked up.

“You’re everything to me,” she said. “But whatever we both worked hard for, is as well."

The quiet that followed was thick with everything they hadn’t said — all the words they could’ve used to convince each other, all the little ways they’d both tried to delay the inevitable.

But love wasn’t always about holding on.

Sometimes, it was about knowing when to let go.

-

The silence that followed their fight wasn’t heavy.

It was soft. Tired. Like an exhale after holding your breath too long.

Y/N sat down slowly beside Jungkook, their knees touching. Neither of them said anything for a while. Just breathing in sync. Letting the dust settle.

Jungkook turned his head to look at her — really look.

She was still teary-eyed, but her face was calm now. Braver than he felt.

“You really are going,” he murmured.

Y/N nodded once. “I have to, and you have to continue with music. You have to."

He looked down at his hands.

“But we still have four months,” she said quietly.

Jungkook’s eyes flicked up, sharp. Hopeful.

“I don’t want to spend those four months grieving something we haven’t lost yet,” she whispered. “I don’t want to spend them fighting, or avoiding each other, or pretending this doesn’t hurt.”

Her fingers reached for his — tentative, then firm. “I want to love you. Every day. As much as I can, while I still can.”

He stared at her like she’d just pulled him out of a storm.

“Let’s make the time count,” she said, voice steady now. “Let’s do everything. Late night walks. Falling asleep on the couch. Going out to eat, even when we're tired. Holding hands under the table. Kissing in elevators. Let’s not waste a second.”

Jungkook blinked hard.

Then leaned forward and kissed her — slowly, like he was anchoring himself to the moment. Her hand curled behind his neck. He tasted like tears and something aching and sweet.

When they pulled back, foreheads resting together, she said it again:

“I love you.”

He smiled through the ache in his chest.

“I love you more.”

Y/N laughed, even though it trembled. “That’s not possible.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to find out.”

And they did.

In the days that followed, their apartment came alive again. Music at breakfast. Polaroids taped to the fridge. Shoes by the door tangled together.

They didn’t talk about London much. They didn’t talk about the goodbye.

But they held each other closer. And kissed each other a little longer.

-

The four months passed in a blur of laughter, small moments, and quiet intimacy.

In between work and late-night study sessions, between Jungkook’s rehearsals and Y/N’s growing list of things to pack, they carved out a world just for them.

They slow danced in the living room with no music, the hum of the city their only soundtrack.

They burned toast trying to make breakfast together, and laughed until they cried.

He left sticky notes on her mirror every morning: “You’re beautiful.” “I’m proud of you.” “Don’t forget your charger.”

She made playlists for every mood and sent them to him mid-shoot: “For when you miss me.”

They slept wrapped around each other like the world might take one away in the middle of the night.

Some nights, they cried quietly after making love, tangled in each other, knowing that time was slipping through their fingers.

But they also lived loudly — movie nights with friends, a weekend trip to the coast, getting caught in the rain and laughing as they ran barefoot through the streets.

They didn't talk about London anymore.

They just loved.

Completely.

One week before her flight.

The night was cool and quiet, the sky inked in navy and stars.

Jungkook parked the car at the edge of the park and turned to her with a small smile. “One last secret date?”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “You remembered.”

“How could I forget?” he said, reaching to brush a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “This is where you ruined me forever.”

She laughed softly, heart aching already. “You kissed me first.”

“And you kissed me back like you meant it.”

They walked slowly, hand in hand, through the familiar gravel paths, the trees casting soft shadows under the moonlight. The same bench was still there — the one they sat on that first night, knees brushing, too shy to speak for a while.

They sat down again, this time leaning into each other without hesitation.

“It feels smaller,” Y/N murmured.

“You just got taller.”

“I did not.”

“You did. Your confidence did, at least.”

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “That first night, I was terrified.”

“Same.” He reached for her hand. “I thought I was going to say something stupid and scare you off.”

“You did say something stupid.”

He gasped. “What?!”

“You told me you were going to marry me.”

He blinked, then laughed under his breath. “I was bold back then.”

“You were right back then,” she whispered.

The quiet held them again — soft and deep and sacred.

“I still would,” he murmured, voice cracking. “If things were different. I’d marry you in a second.”

Y/N turned to him, eyes shining. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll say yes.”

He looked at her, really looked — and for a second, time folded. It was them again. That first night. That first kiss. All the maybes, all the ifs, all the could-have-beens.

“I wish I could freeze this,” he whispered. “Right now. Just this.”

Y/N nodded, tears welling. “I’ll remember it. I promise. Every time I close my eyes.”

He pulled her close, lips brushing hers — a kiss so slow, so aching, it felt like a goodbye even though they didn’t say the word.

And then, she whispered:

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

So they did. Until the stars faded. Until their breaths turned to mist. Until they were the only two people in the world.

Because this was their place.

Where it began. Where they fell. And now, where they would hold on one last time.

-

The airport was quieter than usual.

A soft hum of wheels dragging across tiles. Muffled voices behind glass walls. An endless stream of departures and goodbyes — like the air itself was made of endings.

Y/N stood at the gate entrance with Jungkook’s hoodie draped over her shoulders, passport clutched in one hand, the other buried in his.

Neither had said much since arriving. The drive had been quiet — not heavy, just full. Every glance, every touch said more than words could.

Now, with the final call approaching, they stood frozen in the last minutes of their forever.

Jungkook looked at her like he was trying to memorize every detail — the curve of her lips, the light in her eyes, the scar near her brow he always kissed without thinking.

“Four months felt too short,” he said, voice rough.

“I know,” she whispered.

“You were right,” he continued, forcing a small smile. “We shouldn’t have wasted a second.”

“And we didn’t.”

He pulled her into his arms then — not carefully, not cautiously. Like he couldn’t hold her close enough.

Her face buried in his shoulder, his scent already imprinting itself into memory.

“I’m going to miss this,” she whispered. “Miss you.”

His breath hitched, lips pressing into her hair. “Don’t say it like it’s the end.”

“It’s not,” she said, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “It’s just... the in-between.”

Jungkook cupped her face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away a tear before it could fall.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said. “You’re going to change the world, Y/N.”

"And so are you, your music. It's going to save people. People that weren't as lucky as me to have a you in their life to save it for them."

His smile was soft, gentle, aching. He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"We'll make each other proud, it's you and me against the world remember?" He recited a soft inside joke you made on your first date back when you were 16.

She laughed softly through her tears. “You always say the right thing.”

“That’s because it's you.”

Her eyes closed. Her heart cracked and bloomed at once.

Then, he leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed.

It was final.

A kiss made of every morning spent tangled in sheets. Every late-night whisper. Every shared breath and soft laugh and quiet, wordless promise.

He kissed her like she was the only thing that had ever made sense.

And when they parted, their foreheads pressed together.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered.

She shook her head, gently.

“Don’t wait,” she said. “Live. Be everything you were meant to be. And if life brings us back together…”

“Then I’ll fall in love with you all over again,” he finished.

Another final call echoed across the terminal.

This time, she nodded.

Time was up.

She took a shaky step back, fingers slipping from his like threads unraveling.

“I love you,” she said, voice breaking.

“I love you more.”

Her last smile was soft — a quiet kind of brave.

Then she turned and walked toward the gate.

Jungkook didn’t move. But called out to her one last time.

"Love?"

She turned.

Jungkook’s voice was soft — steady, but full of everything he was holding back. “You still owe me that rematch from the claw machine.”

Despite the tears in her eyes, she smiled, and looked down at the keychain jungkook won for her, because she kept on losing.

“Next time, i'm winning that game.”

They both paused — one last breath shared between them.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Her smile faltered, but she nodded. “I will be. Because we were real.”

-

One month later London, 9:43 PM

Y/N dropped her bag by the door and kicked off her shoes, exhaustion pooling in her bones. Her day had stretched longer than it should have — lectures, meetings, cold rain. She still had laundry to fold, assignments to finish, dishes to wash.

But the apartment was hers. The silence felt new, unfamiliar, but safe.

She microwaved leftover curry, tossed on Jungkook’s hoodie — the one he insisted she keep — and sank onto the couch, remote in hand.

She didn’t mean to land on the music channel.

But fate had a habit of timing things perfectly.

The crowd was roaring on screen. Bright lights swept across thousands of fans. A spotlight cut through the dark — and there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing at the edge of the stage in black, silver glinting on his fingers, hair tousled, chest rising and falling with the weight of everything unsaid.

Y/N froze.

She hadn’t seen him since the airport.

She hadn’t let herself watch anything. Not until now.

He stepped up to the mic, one hand gripping it gently, the other resting over his heart.

“Hey everyone, i know you came for the songs,” he said with a soft smile. “But can I talk about something for a second?”

The crowd cheered.

His smile faltered, just slightly — eyes shining beneath the lights.

“There’s someone I wish was here tonight.”

A hush fell.

“She’s the reason I’m standing here. The reason I didn’t give up. A lot of you don’t know this, but I almost took a break from music earlier this year. Almost walked away.”

Y/N sat forward slowly, food forgotten.

“But she wouldn’t let me. She said I was meant for this. Even though it meant letting go.” He paused. Swallowed. “She chose my dream… over our future. And I think that’s the kind of love that doesn’t disappear. That kind of love stays with you forever.”

The camera caught his eyes — glassy, open, full of something so real.

“So this song… is for her.” He looked up. “If you’re watching… I hope London’s treating you well.”

Y/N’s hand flew to her mouth.

He knew.

The first notes of the song began.

A slow, aching piano. Soft strings rising in the background. And then his voice — low, gentle, like a prayer.

“We laugh together, we cry together. These simple feelings were everything I had When will it be? If I see you again, I will look into your eyes And say, "I missed you".

Y/N’s tears spilled silently.

Not because it hurt.

But because it meant something.

She watched him sing — the boy she loved, the man he was becoming — pouring everything into every lyric. Not for the world. Not for the cameras.

For her.

And in that small apartment, miles away from him, she whispered through a smile,

“I love you too.”

She didn’t know when they’d meet again. Or if they ever would. But she would still love him, no matter what.

-

7 years later A quiet coffee shop, Busan

“You still drink your coffee black?” Jimin squinted, wrinkling his nose as he slid into the booth across from Y/N.

“I’ve evolved,” she replied with a grin. “Now I add oat milk.”

Hobi let out a dramatic gasp. “The most London thing I’ve ever heard.”

“What’s next? Earl Grey and scones?” Jimin added, stirring sugar into his iced latte.

“Don’t tempt me. I brought a whole suitcase of Yorkshire tea with me.”

The three of them burst into laughter, the kind that came easy even after years apart. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the cozy Busan café, catching dust motes in its path. The walls were lined with books, mismatched chairs, and the smell of fresh bread and espresso clung to the air like comfort.

Y/N leaned back in her seat, still smiling. “I missed this.”

“We missed you more,” Hobi said, nudging her ankle under the table. “I still remember our dumb group chats. Jimin kept trying to send you memes at 3 a.m. Korea time like you weren’t asleep in another country.”

“I was never asleep,” she chuckled. “I just didn’t reply because they were terrible memes.”

“They were hilarious,” Jimin defended, feigning offense.

Y/N looked between them and softened. “Seriously, though. Thank you for today. I’ve been back for a few weeks, but this is the first time it’s really felt like… home.”

Jimin raised his glass. “To not waiting another seven years.”

“Cheers to that,” Hobi said, clinking glasses with both of them.

They lingered over their drinks, catching up on everything — Y/N’s tiny apartment near the Han River, Hobi’s art residency, Jimin’s half-serious plan to quit and open a bakery.

“You say that every year,” Y/N teased.

“This time I mean it.”

“You also said that last year,” Hobi added dryly.

“Okay, rude.”

Their laughter rolled on until the clock nudged past sunset. Hobi stretched with a yawn. “I’ll grab the bill.”

“Me too,” Jimin said, standing. “Y/N, don’t move. You’re the guest of honor.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Hobi pointed at her. “Sit.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright.”

As they moved toward the counter, Y/N stayed back, sipping the last of her drink, eyes drifting to the soft rustle of leaves outside the window.

Then — the bell above the door chimed.

She glanced up out of habit, then froze.

Jungkook.

He stepped into the café with a friend beside him, mid-conversation, head tilted slightly back in laughter. He looked the same and different — lean, sharp around the edges, still dressed in black, silver glinting from his rings. There was something quieter about him now. Less fire, more warmth.

He turned — and his eyes met hers.

Everything stilled.

His lips parted. “...Y/N?”

She stood slowly, blinking once. “Hey.”

The friend glanced between them, eyes catching something unspoken, and gently excused himself with a nod, heading to the far end of the shop.

Jungkook took a cautious step closer, voice softer. “I wasn’t expecting…”

“I know,” she said. “Me either.”

They stood for a moment just looking at each other. Seven years of distance, of growing into different lives, and somehow… this still felt familiar.

“You look good,” he said finally.

“So do you.”

“London treated you well?”

“It did.” She smiled gently. “You’ve been doing amazing, I've seen."

He gave a modest shrug. “Still figuring it out.”

A pause.

“Want to sit?” she asked, gesturing to the booth.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

They sat opposite each other, and the silence wasn’t awkward — just full. Full of history. Of the version of themselves that only existed when they were nineteen.

“So,” she said, “what brings you to Busan?”

“Just needed to get out of Seoul for a bit, visit mum and dad." he said. “You?”

“Same. Meeting up with Jimin and Hobi. Haven’t seen them in forever.”

“I figured,” he smiled. “Saw them paying at the counter just now. Jimin dropped his card twice.”

She laughed. “Some things don’t change.”

“And some things do.”

Another pause — heavier now.

“You still writing?” he asked.

“Sometimes. Not as much. You?”

“Every day. But not all of it’s for release.” He hesitated. “Some things are just for me now.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

He glanced down at the table, then back at her.

“I saw your interview last year,” she said softly. “When you mentioned your girlfriend.”

A flicker of something passed through his gaze, then softened. “Yeah… she’s great. Grounded. Quiet in the best way.”

“I’m happy for you.”

He smiled, and for a second, he looked nineteen again. “I heard you’re with someone too. Jimin mentioned it in passing.”

She nodded. “His name’s Minjae. We met in a used bookstore — he was holding the last copy of a book I wanted.”

“Let me guess… you charmed it out of him.”

“Obviously.”

They both laughed again, quietly this time.

A breath.

Then, Jungkook leaned back, folding his arms on the table. His voice was careful.

“Do you ever… think about it? What we were?”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t waver. “All the time.”

“Me too.”

“I don’t regret it,” she said.

He shook his head. “Never.”

“It was real,” she added. “Even if it didn’t last.”

He looked down, his thumb absentmindedly tracing a faint ring mark on the wood grain.

“Sometimes I wonder how different everything would’ve been if we hadn’t let go,” he said.

“And sometimes,” she whispered, “I think it was the only reason we became who we were meant to be.”

He looked at her then — really looked.

“I still love you,” he said. “Not the way I used to. But… it’s there. It always will be.”

She smiled, eyes soft and damp. “I know. I feel the same. I love you too. I think i always will.”

They sat in silence, letting the moment settle. No tension. No longing.

Just two people who had loved each other deeply. Who had let go, not because they stopped loving — but because they loved each other enough to do it.

A bell chimed again — Jimin and Hobi returned with cups in hand, freezing mid-step when they saw who sat across from Y/N.

“Uh…” Jimin blinked. “Is this a ghost sighting or…”

“Hi, Jimin,” Jungkook grinned. “Still dropping your card everywhere?”

“Wow. Rude. Nice to see you too.”

“Hi, Jungkook, it's been too long.” Hobi said, grinning. “You want to join us? Catch up a little?”

Jungkook glanced at Y/N, smiled, and stood. “Rain check. I’ve got someone waiting for me.”

“I’m glad I saw you today.” He says, standing up slowly.

“Me too.”

He paused before leaving, hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“So… still stealing books from bookstores?”

Y/N scoffed. “It was one book. And I left money in the sleeve.”

“You left coins, Y/N.”

“Still legal tender.”

He laughed — low and warm, and for a second, it was like nothing had changed.

“I missed this,” he said softly. “Us.”

“Me too.”

He looked at her for a moment. Really looked. Then, quieter, “You’re happy, right?”

“I am,” she said. “Are you?”

“I am.”

A small silence.

He smiled gently. “I always thought we’d meet again someday.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I just didn’t think it would feel so… soft.”

Her eyes softened. “We were never really hard, Jungkook. Just… young.”

He nodded slowly.

Then, with a flicker of something tender, “Do you still carry that dumb keychain I won you?”

“I told you it wasn’t dumb.”

“That’s not a no.”

She smiled. “It’s still on my desk.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh, like it landed somewhere deep.

Then he stepped back, just slightly.

“I should go."

"Okay." You nod, saying goodbye before he turned.

But you stop him. You had to. One last time.

"Kook?" The old nickname rolling off your tongue so easily.

He turns.

"You still owe me a rematch from that claw machine."

He smiles, genuinely.

"I'll still win you, you know that." He replies, with a soft laugh.

A pause. One final glance.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

She nodded. “You too, Jungkook.”

He hesitated, then added, soft as breath, “You were my favorite chapter.”

Her voice barely held. “And you were mine.”

Then he turned and walked away — no turning back, no regrets.

Just two hearts, quietly full.

[jeonette]

eternal obsession - jjk 18+

genre : obsessive, angst, dark romance [ one shot ]

warnings : description of slight gore scenes but nothing bad at all, obsessive stalker plot ( koo is not the stalker, he's her boyfriend ) , passionate sex.

sypnosis : Jungkook is everything Y/N ever wanted — tender, protective, utterly devoted. But behind his love lies a trail of secrets, blood, and bodies no one was ever meant to find. As the truth begins to unravel, Y/N is forced to confront a terrifying question... What if the man who would kill for her… already has? And worse — what if she doesn’t want to stop him? Because if there’s no heaven for people like them, They’ll rule hell, hand in hand.

The city outside blurred into streaks of neon and shadow, every passing car smearing red and gold across the glass. Inside the little bookstore café, it was warm—almost too warm. The scent of old pages and cinnamon steeped the air, and Y/N’s cup of lavender tea steamed gently beneath her fingers.

“God, it’s pouring,” Mina said, brushing rain from her coat as she slid into the seat across from her. “I swear the sky’s been crying all week.”

Y/N smiled faintly, swirling her tea. “Maybe the city needed a cleanse.”

Mina scoffed. “Or maybe it’s just cursed.” She leaned in. “So… are you seeing him tonight?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Her gaze flickered toward the window, where shadows moved past in soft blurs. “Probably. He said he might come by to walk me home.”

“‘Might’? Girl, that man would burn the world to walk you across the street.”

She gave a quiet laugh. “He’s just… attentive.”

“Attentive?” Mina raised an eyebrow. “You told me he showed up outside your work at midnight. You weren’t even on shift.”

Y/N shrugged, feeling a sudden warmth rise to her cheeks. “He said he just wanted to make sure I got home safe. He’s sweet, Mina. Intense, yeah—but sweet.”

“Sweet is flowers. A little clingy. Not ���I tracked your phone just to see your smile’ sweet.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but something shifted behind the glass.

Mina stopped talking.

He was already inside.

Dressed in black from collar to cuff, damp hair curling softly where it brushed his cheekbones. Jungkook walked with quiet purpose, like the world moved for him. His eyes, impossibly dark, locked on Y/N like she was the only thing keeping him breathing.

He didn’t even glance at Mina.

“You’re late,” Y/N teased gently as he reached their table.

“I’m never late to you,” Jungkook said, voice low and warm, wrapping around her like silk. He leaned down, brushing his lips over her temple. “You looked so pretty sitting here, I almost didn’t want to interrupt.”

Y/N smiled. “It’s okay. We were just talking—”

He finally looked at Mina. The smile in his eyes vanished.

Mina shifted under his stare. “Hey.”

Jungkook nodded once. Nothing more.

“I should go,” Mina muttered, grabbing her umbrella. “Call me later, okay?”

Y/N blinked. “You just got here—”

“I forgot I had something. Sorry.” She was already walking away.

Jungkook watched her go until the door swung closed behind her. Then, like a switch flipped, he turned back to Y/N with a softness that made her chest ache.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He took her hand across the table, fingers cold from the rain. “Now that I’m here, yeah. Everything’s perfect.”

Y/N took another sip of tea, trying not to let the awkwardness with Mina settle in her chest. “Today was kind of slow,” she said, gently twirling the spoon between her fingers. “We had this customer come in and ask if we sold perfume. At a bookstore. Can you believe that?”

Jungkook gave a soft laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you talk to him for long?”

She blinked. “The customer?”

“Yeah.” His thumb rubbed small circles into the back of her hand, perfectly casual if not for the slight pressure behind it.

“Not really,” she said with a little frown. “I just pointed him to the shop down the street. Why?”

“No reason.” He smiled, that dimpled grin that always made her stomach flip. “I just like hearing about your day.”

“Well, I also alphabetized the horror section again,” she continued, trying to lighten the mood. “Someone keeps putting Stephen King under ‘S.’ I think it’s an act of rebellion at this point.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Maybe they’re just trying to get your attention.”

“Good luck to them, then,” she said, grinning. “My attention span ends at the letter ‘H’.”

His smile lingered, but his grip on her hand didn’t loosen.

“Did anyone else try to get your attention today?”

She gave him a puzzled look. “You mean like… flirt with me?”

“Maybe.”

She snorted. “Jungkook, I’m wearing a cardigan with moths on it. I think I’m safe.”

“You’re not,” he said so softly it was almost lost under the hum of the café.

“What?”

“You’re never safe,” he repeated, eyes darkening slightly as he leaned in. “Not out there. Not without me.”

The words should have chilled her. But the way he said them—with such devotion, such certainty—it sent a strange heat curling down her spine.

“I’m fine, though,” she said gently. “I made it here on my own, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t see the man who followed you three blocks.”

She froze.

“…What?”

Jungkook’s smile returned, slow and calm. “He stopped when I got close. I don't think he’ll be a problem anymore.”

She stared at him. “Are you serious?”

“Would I let anyone hurt you?”

His voice was low. Intimate. Possessive.

Something about the way he said it made her breath catch—somewhere between fear and fascination.

“…Jungkook, how do you even know he was following me?”

He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

“I always know where you are."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook had always had eyes on his girl. He refused to let her out of his sight even when she wasn't physically with him.

Camera. Bugs. Wires. Location trackers. Anything so he knew she was safe.

He was watching. Her chest rose and fell softly beneath his sheets, one hand curled by her face like she was protecting a secret even in her dreams. She didn’t know, of course. She never stirred when he slipped out of bed and stood there, bare-chested in the dark, just… watching.

Whenever a man dared to look at her in the wrong way, he'd take action.

He moved to the window and opened it an inch. Cold air slipped in, but he liked it that way. It helped him think. Helped him stay in control.

He lit a cigarette and took a long drag, eyes flicking to the building across the street. Fourth floor. Left window. Lights off now.

Good.

That bastard had finally learned.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he exhaled. Just two nights ago, he’d seen the man watching her—watching her from that window like he had the right.

Jungkook had knocked on his door half an hour later. Calm. Smiling. Friendly.

The man hadn’t answered at first.

So Jungkook waited. And waited.

When the door creaked open, he hadn’t said a word.

Just smiled.

And then he’d stepped inside.

He’d returned to Y/N’s apartment an hour later, hands clean, smile easy. She was asleep by then, soft music playing from her phone. She’d left a blanket out for him.

She always did. Even when she didn’t know where he went.

That was love. Trust.

And he would do anything to protect it.

Earlier that day, she had smiled at a cashier. Nothing unusual. Just a polite, passing smile.

But Jungkook had memorized the way the boy’s eyes followed her as she left. He always memorized the faces. The gestures. The threats, even if they never knew they were one.

He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Not really. But they didn’t stop. They never stopped.

Once, she had brushed past a man in the subway. Her bare shoulder had touched his jacket. The man had turned, seen her face, and smiled.

It had taken Jungkook six hours to find out who he was. His address. His routine.

He hadn’t hurt him. Not then.

He’d just… waited outside his building the next morning.

One glimpse of Jungkook’s face, and the man never looked at Y/N again.

He didn’t always need violence. Just presence. Just pressure. Like a hand around a throat that hadn’t started squeezing yet.

But some people needed to be reminded what pain felt like.

Jungkook looked down at his knuckles, the skin still pink from the last time.

A man at the bar last week had grabbed her arm. Just playfully. Just drunk.

Y/N had laughed it off, pulled away.

Jungkook hadn’t.

He’d smiled the rest of the night. Held her like she was glass. Kissed her like nothing was wrong.

The man’s teeth were still scattered in the alley behind the bar.

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray and turned back to her.

She murmured something in her sleep, soft and delicate. His chest ached.

He loved her so much it made his hands shake sometimes. She didn’t understand what it cost to keep her safe. What kind of world she really lived in.

But that was fine.

He would carry the weight. He would do the ugly things. The things that made her world beautiful.

Even if she never thanked him.

Even if she never knew.

As long as she was his.

Forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rain had returned, misting the windows in soft gray streaks, but inside the apartment, it was all warmth and comfort. The overhead lights were off—only the low flicker of candles lit the room, casting a golden glow over blankets, pillows, and tangled limbs on the couch.

Y/N was curled into Jungkook’s lap like she belonged there.

Which she did.

Her head rested against his chest, ear pressed right over his heartbeat. The rhythm was steady, comforting, and so very his. She wore one of his old hoodies—oversized and worn soft, smelling like detergent and something darker, something undeniably him. Her bare legs tangled with his as she reached blindly for a piece of popcorn from the bowl resting near his thigh.

“You keep eating all the caramel ones,” Jungkook murmured against her hair.

She smiled without looking up. “Maybe you’re too slow.”

“I’m just letting you win.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No,” he agreed, amused. “I’m not.”

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling from the TV’s glow, and tilted her face toward his. “You love me anyway, though.”

His hand slid up her thigh in a lazy, lingering caress. “I do,” he said, voice low and rough. “More than anything. You know that.”

Y/N shifted, climbing into his lap more fully now, straddling him. She pressed her forehead against his, her smile softening. “Sometimes I think you love me too much.”

His fingers dug gently into her hips. “Impossible.”

She kissed him then—slow and unhurried. Familiar. Addictive.

He responded in kind, arms winding around her waist, pulling her tighter. Her hands found his jaw, then slid into his hair, curling into the soft strands at the nape of his neck.

His lips parted for hers, deepening the kiss, tongue meeting hers with a hunger that always lingered just below the surface of him. He tasted like cinnamon and need. She felt his fingers flex on her thighs, holding her still even as she shifted closer, needing more, needing all of him.

The movie kept playing in the background, forgotten.

Her breath hitched when he tilted her back slightly, his mouth trailing from her lips to her jaw, then down her neck, grazing just above her collarbone. His voice, breathless now, came in a murmur against her skin: “Tell me what you want, angel.”

She opened her mouth—but then—

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Y/N stilled.

The phone on the coffee table lit up again.

Ding.

Jungkook sighed, pulling back slightly, visibly irritated by the interruption. Y/N blinked herself out of the haze and reached for her phone.

Her brow furrowed. “…That’s weird.”

He watched her carefully. “What is it?”

She opened her messages.

Unknown number:

You looked so pretty tonight. That hoodie doesn’t hide much. I saw you laughing. He doesn’t deserve you. Why don’t you smile like that when you’re alone?

Her stomach dropped.

She froze, reading each line again like it would change the meaning. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice was sharper now, on edge. He sat up straighter beneath her. “What is it?”

She slowly handed him the phone, fingers shaking. “I��I don’t know who that is. I’ve never—Jungkook, someone’s watching me.”

His eyes scanned the messages. Stillness overtook him, a terrifying, glacial kind. His hand tightened around the phone.

“How long has this been happening?” he asked, too calm.

“This is the first time. I swear. I don’t—how would they know I was wearing your hoodie? We didn’t even go out today, I just—” Her voice cracked. She looked around, suddenly paranoid. The windows. The blinds. “Is someone outside? Is someone watching right now?”

Jungkook gently lifted her off his lap, stood, and set the phone down.

“Jungkook—wait, where are you going?”

He didn’t answer.

He crossed the room in three long strides, closed the blinds, and checked the front door’s lock—twice. Then he moved to the bedroom, returned with something she couldn’t see in his hand, and walked quietly to the kitchen window.

Y/N stood there, frozen, arms hugging herself tightly.

When he finally came back, he didn’t speak right away. He walked straight to her and wrapped her in his arms.

His heart was racing. Really racing now.

She pressed her face into his chest. “Who would—why would someone—?”

“Shh,” he whispered into her hair. “Don’t cry, angel. I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“But they saw me,” she whispered. “They said you don’t deserve me. They’ve been watching.”

“They’re wrong.” His voice was steel now. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. Touch you like this. They know it. That’s why they’re hiding.”

“What if they come here?”

“They won’t.” A pause. Then he murmured so quietly, she almost didn’t hear it: “They wouldn’t dare.”

She looked up at him, eyes wet. “How can you be so sure?”

Jungkook held her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears. He kissed her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Gentle. Reassuring.

“I know how to make people disappear,” he said, smiling softly.

She blinked.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, and she didn’t ask what he meant.

She didn’t want to.

She just held onto him tighter.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning after didn’t feel like morning.

It was gray and muted, the kind of day that dragged like wet clothes—heavy, slow, and cold beneath the skin. The candles had long since burned out. The half-watched movie still sat paused on the screen.

Y/N hadn’t touched her phone again.

She sat curled on the edge of the couch, sleeves pulled over her hands, eyes staring blankly at nothing. Jungkook stood across the room, his broad back to her as he adjusted something beneath the kitchen sink. The apartment felt too quiet. Like it was holding its breath.

She hated it.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly.

Jungkook turned immediately. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed rest too.”

He crossed the space and knelt in front of her. His hands found hers, gently tugging the sleeves down. “Angel,” he murmured, eyes searching her face. “You don’t need to be brave right now.”

Y/N looked down. “I keep thinking someone’s out there. Watching. I keep checking the windows and listening for things. I—I know it sounds crazy.”

“It doesn’t.”

“You believe me?”

“I always believe you.”

He kissed her knuckles, holding them to his lips for a long moment.

She closed her eyes. Breathed him in.

But something in his posture had shifted. His shoulders were tighter today. His eyes sharper, more alert. He was still her Jungkook—warm, loving—but a colder energy hummed beneath the surface.

“I have to go out for a few hours,” he said, too casually.

Y/N’s eyes shot open. “What? No.”

“I just need to take care of a few things, baby. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

Her fingers curled around his tighter. “No. Please, don’t. Not now.”

He hesitated.

She reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, holding on like he might disappear if she let go. “Jungkook, please don’t leave me alone. I can’t—what if they come back? What if they’re watching again?”

He cupped her cheek. “They won’t get to you. I promise.”

“That’s not enough,” she whispered. “You’re the only reason I feel safe.”

His throat worked, jaw tight.

Then he exhaled. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

Relief bloomed in her chest, and she practically melted into his arms. He caught her easily, pulling her into his lap as she pressed her face into his neck. His hands roamed her back in slow, calming circles.

“You don’t have to be scared anymore,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

She nodded against him, body sinking deeper into the comfort only he could offer.

The hours passed in a haze. She tried to eat, tried to watch something with him—but her mind wandered constantly. The blinds stayed shut. The door remained bolted. Every little sound outside made her jump.

Eventually, Jungkook coaxed her into the bedroom.

“You need rest,” he said softly, brushing her hair from her face as she lay beneath the sheets. “Just a little. I’ll be right here, okay?”

“You promise?”

“Of course,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Sleep, angel.”

She fell asleep with her hand wrapped around his wrist.

He waited until her breathing evened out—then stayed still a little longer, just watching her. Listening. Letting himself feel everything.

Then, slowly, carefully, he slid his hand free.

In the dark, he moved like a ghost.

First: the front door. He knelt, installing a reinforced deadbolt he’d brought from his apartment. Not the basic kind. This one required biometric input. No one would open it from the outside.

Second: the windows. He reinforced the latches. Taped the blinds shut with black electrical tape. Not a sliver of light—or vision—would leak in or out.

He checked the fire escape. Quietly unscrewed a vital rung from the ladder.

Just in case.

He moved like this for nearly an hour, careful not to make a sound. Methodical. Obsessive. Every lock was tested. Every blind double-checked.

When he was satisfied, he returned to the bedroom.

Y/N hadn’t moved.

She looked so small in his bed. So trusting.

He crouched beside her, watching her sleep the way he always did—like she was his favorite sin. His most fragile treasure. A candle flame he’d kill to keep burning.

He pressed one last kiss to her temple.

Then slipped out the door without a sound.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The warehouse smelled like rust and oil and old violence.

Rain hammered the tin roof above, and fluorescent lights flickered across a long table cluttered with screens. Grainy surveillance footage looped across the monitors—angles from traffic cams, store security, and footage pulled from obscure forums. Some showed city sidewalks. Others, darker and closer, showed her.

The same ones Jungkook had already seen. The ones that had made his jaw lock and his vision go red.

Jimin leaned against the table, arms crossed, mouth set in a hard line. Taehyung was seated nearby, tapping a switchblade against his thigh in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

They looked up the moment Jungkook entered.

He said nothing at first. Just stepped into the room like a storm given shape, black hoodie soaked through, eyes darker than night.

Jimin handed him a tablet. “That’s him. Name’s Ryu. Mid-thirties. Tech background. Obsessive online presence. Started tracking her a few months ago through her social profiles.”

“Worked at a security firm,” Taehyung added, gaze sharp and lazy at once. “Had access to CCTV networks. Wired her apartment building, probably planted something physical too.”

Jungkook stared at the image on the screen—an unremarkable man with pale skin, dark circles, and a faint smirk. One of those forgettable types who passed through crowds unnoticed.

“Where is he now?” Jungkook asked, voice dead calm.

“Southside,” Jimin said. “Abandoned unit near the freight line. We traced his last login through a burner.”

Jungkook handed back the tablet and rolled up his sleeves. His hands were steady.

Taehyung watched him with a knowing grin. “You want him alive, or...?”

“Alive for now.”

“Copy that.”

Twenty minutes later.

The door crashed open with the force of a thunderclap.

Ryu didn’t even have time to scream before he was hauled from his chair, the desk and monitors toppling beside him. Jungkook didn’t say a word. Just dragged him by the collar into the concrete room beyond, flanked by Jimin and Taehyung like wolves on either side.

They tied him to a chair. Fastened the rope tight.

Blood from a split lip already trickled down Ryu’s chin. His breath stuttered when Jungkook knelt in front of him.

“Do you know who she is to me?”

Ryu didn’t answer.

Jungkook backhanded him hard enough to send spit flying.

“Answer.”

“I—I didn’t touch her, I swear—”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I just watched. I was just watching. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just—just curious—”

Jungkook smiled.

It was worse than a snarl.

“Let me tell you what I see,” he whispered, leaning closer. “You watched her like she was prey. You messaged her, tried to scare her. You thought she was alone. You thought she was yours to study. Like she wasn’t mine.”

“Please—”

“But she’s not alone,” Jungkook continued, tone so gentle it sent chills down Jimin’s spine. “She has me. And I will tear the world apart before I let someone like you breathe in her direction again.”

Ryu began to cry.

It didn’t matter.

Jungkook stood. “Break his fingers.”

Taehyung obeyed.

The scream echoed loud and long across the empty corridors of the building.

Two hours later.

Ryu was no longer crying. He wasn’t speaking at all. Just slumped in the chair, breathing shallowly, broken in a dozen places.

Jungkook stood in the center of the room, hands bloodstained, eyes unreadable.

“He’s not going to walk out of here, is he?” Jimin asked quietly, watching his friend with measured calm.

Jungkook shook his head once. “No.”

“Want us to finish it?”

“No,” Jungkook said. He walked to the far wall, picked up a small flash drive from the desk, and pocketed it. “Make it look like an overdose. Clean. Quiet. No noise.”

Taehyung cracked his neck. “I’ll handle it.”

Jungkook turned to the door but paused. “I don’t want this traced. Not a whisper. Not a rumor. If anyone else so much as thinks about her—”

“They won’t,” Jimin said firmly. “We’ll make sure of it.”

There was no satisfaction on Jungkook’s face. Just cold, lethal calm.

“She can’t know,” he said finally.

“She won’t,” Jimin promised.

Jungkook left without another word.

The rain was still falling when he stepped out into the night—but the storm behind him was already over.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing she noticed was the cold.

Not just the sheets — but the air. The emptiness.

Y/N sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing.

The other side of the bed was empty. Flattened, but cooling fast. No warmth. No sign he’d only just stepped out. She scanned the room, eyes wide, breath catching in her throat.

“Jungkook?”

Nothing.

She threw the blankets back and stumbled out of bed, toes hitting the cold floor. Her fingers trembled as she pulled open the bedroom door and stepped into the living room.

It was silent. Still. Wrong.

The curtains — taped shut.

A new lock glinting on the door.

Her stomach flipped.

“Jungkook,” she called again, louder this time. Her voice cracked.

Still no answer.

She checked the kitchen. The bathroom. The hallway.

Nothing.

Panic gripped her chest like a fist. She picked up her phone — hands shaking — and dialed his number.

Voicemail.

Again. Straight to voicemail.

Her knees hit the couch and she clutched the throw pillow like a life raft. Her thoughts spiraled fast and brutal.

What if he left? What if he lied? What if he’s not who you think he is?

Tears pricked her eyes. Her body was tight with anxiety, breath shallow, heart galloping.

He’d promised.

You’re not alone. I’ll be right here. Sleep, angel.

She curled into herself, breath hitching, waiting, hoping—

Until—

The lock turned.

Her head shot up.

The door opened with a slow, soft creak.

And there he was.

Jungkook stepped inside, hoodie damp with morning drizzle, dark hair curled at the edges, his expression calm — like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t just been breaking in his absence.

“Y/N?” he blinked, clearly surprised. “You’re up.”

She was already off the couch and running into his arms.

“Where the hell were you?!” she cried, voice shaking as she collided with him. “You said you wouldn’t leave—I woke up and you were just—gone!”

Jungkook staggered slightly at the force of her, but his arms wrapped around her immediately, protectively, pulling her tight against his chest.

“Hey, hey, angel, shhh—” he murmured, one hand stroking her hair, the other clutching her back. “I’m here. I’m right here. I’m sorry.”

She gripped his hoodie like it was all that tethered her to the ground.

“I thought—I thought something happened. Or—or that you—” she couldn’t even say it. Her voice cracked and crumpled against him.

Jungkook held her tighter, rocking her slightly. “I just stepped out to grab breakfast. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t think you’d panic like that—I’m sorry, baby.”

She buried her face in his chest. The scent of rain clung to him, earthy and clean. Familiar. Reassuring.

And yet…

Her tears slowed. Her breathing evened. But her mind didn’t quiet.

She pulled back slightly and looked up at him — eyes still glassy but sharp now. Searching.

“You taped the blinds.”

His hand stilled on her back.

“I noticed them gapping last night,” he said smoothly. “Didn’t want you waking up anxious again. Figured this would help.”

“And the lock?”

“Extra precaution. Just something to help you sleep better.” He smiled softly. “I want you to feel safe, that’s all.”

Her brow furrowed. “But… you didn’t mention it before.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he said gently, brushing a tear from her cheek. “I had the tools with me. It took five minutes.”

It all made sense. His voice was soft. Steady. He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.

So why did her skin still prickle?

Why did her gut whisper, He’s hiding something?

She didn’t pull away from him.

She clung tighter.

Because love and fear were tangled things. Because despite the doubt, she needed him.

Needed him so badly it made her bones ache.

“I was really scared,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied, lips brushing her temple. “And I’ll never let you feel that way again. Ever.”

She nodded slowly. Let herself believe him.

But as he kissed her cheek and guided her gently to sit down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the moment she’d woken up alone… the world had shifted slightly off-center.

And nothing had quite clicked back into place.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day by day passed. And by each day, the atmosphere turned more intense. Y/n had already developed a suspicion, but the acts done by the day only made them grow more.

Day One She wakes with him beside her.

His arm is tight around her waist, his face buried in her neck. He smells like sleep and sugar. His grip doesn’t loosen — not even when she tries to roll over.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs into her skin. “I won’t let anyone near you.”

She smiles, but her chest tightens. The apartment is spotless again, unnaturally so. Like no one actually lives here.

The front door has three new locks.

Day Two She texts her best friend. Twice.

No reply.

She checks again. The messages show as sent, but… not delivered?

“Something’s wrong with my phone,” she says absently at breakfast.

Jungkook doesn’t look up from the stove. “I can check it later for you.”

That night, her phone sits charging on the kitchen counter.

She finds it off.

Day Three He insists she stays inside.

“Just until the police sort out the stalker thing,” he says, brushing her hair. “You know I’m just being careful.”

She nods.

But when she cracks open the window for air, she finds bars installed on the frame.

They weren’t there yesterday.

Day Four He draws her a bath. Candles. Her favorite bath salts. Music.

“I don’t deserve you,” she says softly, leaning back into his hands as he massages shampoo into her scalp.

“Yes, you do,” he whispers. “You deserve everything.”

She melts under his touch — but when she looks up at the ceiling, she spots a tiny black speck behind the smoke detector’s cover. A red light blinking once. Then gone.

Day Five She wakes in the middle of the night.

Thirsty.

The apartment is dark and silent, but as she walks to the kitchen, she notices the guest room door — usually closed — is cracked open.

She pushes it gently.

Inside: a computer setup she’s never seen before. Monitors. Files. Surveillance footage.

And photos of her.

Hundreds. Candid. Some from years ago. Some from last week.

She hears a sound — and freezes.

“Baby?” Jungkook’s voice calls from behind her. Sleepy. Innocent.

She turns, heart jackhammering in her chest.

“I thought I heard something,” she lies.

He tilts his head. Then smiles softly. “Come back to bed.”

She does.

But she doesn’t sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting, but she hadn’t noticed.

She’d been sitting in the living room for hours, curled into a blanket with her legs tucked to her chest, a cup of untouched tea in her hands. The silence felt different now—no longer safe. Just... loud.

Her eyes kept drifting toward the guest room door. Closed again. Locked.

She knew what she saw.

She wasn’t crazy.

All day, she’d been quietly piecing it together. The missed messages. The camera. The triple locks. The lies spun gently between soft kisses and sugar-sweet reassurances.

And those photos. Her face. Over and over again. His private shrine.

Her fingers tightened around the mug.

The door creaked open behind her.

“Hey, angel,” Jungkook’s voice was soft, like velvet behind her. “You’ve been quiet all day.”

She swallowed. Her pulse spiked.

He walked into the room and sat beside her on the couch. His warmth bled into her immediately.

“You okay?” he asked, brushing hair behind her ear. “Still shaken from the other night?”

Y/N turned to face him slowly. Her expression wasn’t cold—but it wasn’t blind either.

She set the mug down on the coffee table with trembling hands. “I want to ask you something.”

Jungkook’s eyes didn’t blink. “Okay.”

“I’m not… accusing you. I’m not upset. I just…” Her voice dropped. “I need you to tell me the truth. Please.”

He stared at her for a beat too long. Then smiled—gently. Like she’d told a joke. “The truth about what, baby?”

She hesitated. Her throat felt tight. “About… everything. The locks. The cameras. The guest room. My phone not working. Jungkook—why are you watching me?”

His smile faded, just slightly.

Her heart beat faster. She pressed on, soft and shaking. “If something’s wrong… If there’s something you’re protecting me from… I deserve to know. I’m not mad. I just—” she inhaled shakily. “I love you. And I’m scared. I want you to talk to me.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he reached for her hand, lifting it slowly and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“You’re scared?” he murmured, dark lashes lowering. “Of me?”

Her breath caught. “I’m scared because I don’t understand. And I want to.”

He turned her hand in his, studying the shape of her fingers like they were scripture.

“You said you love me,” he said.

She nodded slowly. “I do.”

“Then trust me.”

She tried to keep her voice steady. “I’m trying. That’s why I’m asking.”

Jungkook finally looked up. His eyes were deep and unreadable. “You don’t need to worry about what’s in the guest room. Or the cameras. Or anything else.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve taken care of it.”

She froze. “Taken care of what?”

“The man who was texting you. The one who thought he could follow you home. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

Her lips parted. “Jungkook…”

“I told you,” he said, quiet and firm, “I would never let anyone hurt you.”

She was trembling now. But not pulling away.

“And the cameras?” she asked. “The locks? The phone?”

His thumb stroked her palm. “I need to protect you.”

“But you didn’t tell me.”

“Because you’d be scared. Like you are now.”

There was no apology in his voice. Just calm certainty.

“You don’t need to know everything, Y/N,” he said gently. “You just need to be safe. And with me? You always will be.”

Silence.

She stared at him, heart breaking open in her chest.

Because somewhere deep down… she believed him.

And that terrified her more than anything else.

-------

Y/N sat curled on the bedroom floor, her back against the bedframe, knees hugged tight to her chest. The lights were off. Just the amber glow from the hallway leaking in beneath the door.

She wasn’t crying. Not really.

But her eyes burned.

Her thoughts looped endlessly: He did it for you. He lied to protect you. He’d kill for you. He already has.

She didn’t know how long she sat there. Maybe an hour. Maybe three.

The house was silent. But she felt him on the other side of the door.

Waiting.

When it finally opened, she didn’t flinch.

Jungkook stood there, barefoot, shirtless, drenched in moonlight. He looked like a sinner at confession. Or a boy trying not to lose the only thing that’s ever mattered.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked.

She looked up at him, eyes rimmed red but dry.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “The silence. The waiting. I need to tell you everything. No more half-truths. No more keeping you in the dark.”

She didn’t speak.

So he sank to his knees in front of her.

His hands found hers, gently, like she might vanish if he moved too fast.

“I love you.” His voice trembled. “I know that sounds twisted coming from me right now, but I swear—I have never loved anyone like I love you.”

She kept staring. Listening.

“When we met, I thought I was just lucky. That somehow, I’d stumbled into something pure. But the more I got to know you, the more I realized—I couldn’t lose you. I couldn’t let the world touch you. Not the way it touched me.”

A breath.

“I watched you. I memorized you. And yeah—maybe that was wrong. I know it was wrong. But it didn’t feel that way. It felt like devotion.”

She blinked slowly.

“You didn’t see the messages he sent you. You didn’t see the photos he took of you from across the street. I did. I saw it all. And I handled it. Because no one—no one—gets to make you feel unsafe. Not while I’m breathing.”

Her lip quivered slightly.

“I never meant to scare you,” he whispered. “But I’d burn the world to the ground if it meant you’d never have to be afraid again.”

Silence bloomed between them.

He looked at her like he was preparing to be shattered.

And then—

She leaned forward.

Pressed her mouth to his.

It wasn’t rushed. Or messy. It was quiet and soft and aching.

When she finally pulled away, her voice was barely a whisper. “I understand.”

His eyes widened.

“I don’t agree with everything,” she continued, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “And I need time to figure out what this means for us. But right now... all I feel is how much I love you.”

Jungkook let out a breath like he’d been drowning.

“You’re mine,” he whispered.

“I’ve always been yours.”

That broke something in him.

And then he kissed her like he’d been starved for centuries.

Their bodies tangled fast—his hands roaming her waist, lifting her into his lap as he pressed her back against the edge of the bed. Her breath hitched, soft moans escaping between kisses. Fingers tugging hair, skin burning where their mouths touched, their clothes pulled away slowly like reverent offerings.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered against her throat. “So fucking perfect.”

“Then show me,” she whispered back.

And he did.

All night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was supposed to be a simple outing.

Their first time outside together in days. Y/N had insisted—something small, something normal. Just the two of them. No secrets, no cameras. Just breathing the same air as the rest of the world for a few hours.

So they went to a corner bookstore tucked off a sleepy street. It smelled like old paper and vanilla beans, and the shelves were taller than her head. Jungkook had barely let go of her hand since they left the apartment. His thumb rubbed circles against her palm like he needed to feel her pulse—needed to know she was real.

And Y/N… she was watching him just as closely.

He wasn’t smiling. Not really. His eyes scanned everything. Everyone. Every movement in the corner of the shop. Every man who even glanced her way. His jaw flexed each time someone walked too close.

But for a while, things felt peaceful.

Until they weren’t.

It happened in seconds.

They were leaving the store, her clutching a poetry book to her chest, his hand warm on her lower back. The sidewalk was tight with people. A man in a grey jacket brushed past—too fast, too close.

His arm smacked against her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble.

“Ah—!” Y/N gasped.

Jungkook caught her instantly.

And then he was gone from her side.

She turned in confusion—just in time to see him slam the man back against the brick wall of the alley beside the bookstore.

“You think you can touch her?” Jungkook’s voice was low. Dangerous. “You even know who she is?”

The man struggled, cursing. “Back off, psycho—!”

Jungkook’s fist connected with his jaw before he finished the sentence. Bone crunched. The man’s head hit the wall again, dazed.

Y/N stood frozen, heart thundering. Her book slipped from her hand.

Blood.

Not much, but enough to stain the man’s collar.

“Jungkook—” she whispered, stepping forward.

He didn’t turn.

He pressed his forearm to the man’s throat. “If you ever touch her again—if you breathe near her—I will gut you like a pig.”

Y/N swallowed hard. She should’ve pulled him off. She should’ve screamed. She should’ve done something.

But instead...

She stepped closer.

Her hand slid onto his arm. Gentle.

“Baby,” she said softly. “It’s enough.”

His breathing was ragged. His pulse throbbed beneath her fingers.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Then slowly—slowly—he stepped back.

The man collapsed, coughing, blood dripping from his lip.

Jungkook turned to her, eyes wild.

“You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse.

She nodded, numb. “Yes.”

A pause.

Police sirens whined faintly in the distance—someone must’ve called it in.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, grabbed her hand. “We need to go.”

They ducked into a back alley. She clutched his jacket like a lifeline. Her mind was spinning—but not in fear. In something hotter. Darker.

She’d never seen anyone look at her like that before.

Like she was his entire reason for breathing.

Like he’d destroy the universe just to keep her from flinching.

And when the police finally found them five minutes later, she stepped in before Jungkook could even speak.

“He saved me,” she said, voice steady. “That man grabbed me. Jungkook only defended me. It was self-defense.”

The officer raised a brow. “Did you see him attack you?”

“Yes,” she said. “I was scared. I still am.”

Jungkook stared at her like she’d hung the moon.

—

Back home, the apartment was quiet again.

Y/N sat on the kitchen counter, still in the clothes from earlier, hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. Jungkook stood across from her, leaning against the wall like he didn’t trust himself to get too close.

“You didn’t have to lie for me,” he murmured.

She tilted her head. “I didn’t lie.”

He laughed under his breath. “He barely touched you.”

“He made you angry,” she replied, gaze unwavering. “That’s enough for me.”

His eyes darkened.

She slipped down from the counter and crossed the room slowly.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered, pressing a hand to his chest. “You think I don’t see you? I do. I see the way you look at me. The way you shake when someone else even tries to be near me.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “Y/N…”

“I should be scared,” she said, leaning in until her lips ghosted over his jaw. “But I’m not. Because I feel the same way.”

He froze.

Her voice dropped. “I want you obsessed. I want you burning for me. Because I’m burning for you too.”

That was all it took.

"Fuck."

His hands gripped her waist hard, lips crashing into hers with the kind of desperation that had nothing to do with control—just need. She moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted her back onto the counter, teeth scraping, fingers tugging her shirt up and over.

“Mine,” he breathed against her throat. “Say it.”

“Yours,” she gasped. “Always.”

"Yeah? Let me prove it to you, my love."

And when they came together again—skin to skin, breath tangled—it wasn’t just sex. It was surrender.

It was destruction disguised as love.

And neither of them wanted to be saved.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook lay half-sprawled on the couch, his arm lazily curled around Y/N’s shoulders. She was curled against his chest, her fingertips tracing faint patterns across the black ink running up his forearm. The apartment smelled like sandalwood and mint. Soft movie light flickered against the walls, casting slow-moving shadows.

Her body was draped over his like she belonged there.

Because she did.

“You’re warm,” she murmured, cheek pressed to his shirt. “And distracting. I can’t even follow the movie.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his lips against the crown of her head. “Wasn’t watching it anyway.”

His phone buzzed.

Once.

Then again.

And again.

A pause.

Jungkook shifted slightly and reached for it with a grunt, but didn’t move Y/N. He kept her on top of him, screen tilted toward the arm of the couch as he checked the notifications.

Y/N didn’t even look up—at first.

Until she felt the subtle shift in his breathing.

“Who is it?” she asked casually.

“Mm,” he replied, distracted. “Some girl. Liked a bunch of my old posts. Commented too.”

Y/N’s fingers stopped their lazy trail. She lifted her head slightly, gaze dipping to the edge of the screen.

The girl’s profile picture was visible. Pretty. Flawless makeup. A bit too smiley.

Her comment sat under a photo from nearly a year ago—Jungkook on a rooftop, messy hair, lip ring, eyes like sin.

"God you’re unreal 😍"

Y/N’s body tensed ever so slightly.

Jungkook didn’t react. He barely blinked.

But Y/N tilted her head, eyes still on the phone.

“Is she someone you know?” she asked lightly.

Jungkook’s arm squeezed her just a little tighter. “No. Just some random girl. Probably saw the post from Explore or something.”

“She liked a lot of your photos.”

His thumb moved over the screen — slow, casual. Then, without hesitation, he tapped Block.

Y/N blinked. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he said simply. “I don’t want her looking at me like that. Especially not when I’ve already found everything I need.”

She turned slightly, just enough to look at him over her shoulder.

His eyes were warm but dark. Focused completely on her.

“I don’t care about anyone else,” he said. “Not when I have you like this.”

Y/N felt something strange stir in her chest.

Relief. Satisfaction. Something sharp, but beautiful.

It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t madness.

But it was a new kind of knowing.

That she wanted him like this forever.

Wanted his attention like oxygen. His devotion like a promise tattooed into bone.

“I didn’t like her comment,” Y/N admitted softly, lips brushing the edge of his jaw. “Didn’t like her calling you hot. Not when you’re mine.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened just slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he murmured.

“I’m not jealous,” she said, but her fingers were curling around his shirt now, tugging him closer. “I just don’t want to share.”

His hand slid along her waist, gripping her tighter, pulling her back into his chest.

“Good,” he breathed. “Don’t.”

She turned fully now, straddling his lap in one smooth motion, hands cupping his jaw. Their noses brushed. His hands slid instinctively down to her hips.

“I don’t need to be reminded who you belong to,” she whispered. “But sometimes… I think I like doing it anyway.”

He groaned softly as she leaned in, lips brushing his, not quite kissing yet.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he murmured.

Y/N smiled. “I know.”

Her lips finally met his. Slow. Hot. The kind of kiss that built in heat, not fire — smoldering in soft whimpers and tongue, fingers threading into hair, clothing shifting as their bodies pressed tighter. Jungkook tilted his head and deepened it, one hand splayed on her lower back, the other curling possessively around her thigh.

The movie flickered.

Rain tapped.

The rest of the world blurred into silence.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world outside their apartment was a slow blur of gold and grey.

Rain still clung to the windows, but the storm had softened overnight, retreating into a lazy drizzle that made the light spill gentle and slow into the room.

Y/N stirred first.

She blinked up at the ceiling, breath still slow, body warm under the weight of the duvet — and him.

Jungkook’s arm was wrapped around her waist, his hand resting protectively against her stomach. His legs were tangled with hers, face pressed to the crook of her neck. His breath was warm and even. Still asleep.

Y/N didn’t move.

She didn’t want to.

Instead, she turned just enough to look at him.

He looked... different in the morning.

Younger. Softer. As if sleep peeled back the armor he wore in the daylight and left her with the raw, boyish version of him. Tousled hair. Lips parted just slightly. Thick lashes resting on skin still flushed from last night.

And God — he was beautiful.

Her fingers moved before she could stop them, reaching to trace the edge of his jaw. She felt the faint scrape of stubble. The delicate slope of his cheekbone. The tattooed vines that wrapped around his arm, stark against her bare skin.

She remembered the way he had looked at her.

The way he had blocked that girl without blinking.

The way he had said, “I don’t want her looking at me like that. Not when I’ve already found everything I need.”

Y/N bit her lip.

Her heart ached — not from pain.

From possession.

It wasn’t loud. Wasn’t dramatic.

It was quiet.

A pulse under her skin. A whisper at the back of her mind.

Mine.

She kissed his forehead gently, nose brushing his temple.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered. “I won’t let you.”

And then—

A smile.

Jungkook’s.

His voice, still rough from sleep: “Didn’t plan to.”

Y/N jumped a little. “You’re awake?”

“Wasn’t,” he said, blinking open one eye. “But your voice... kinda made it hard to stay asleep.”

She flushed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He stretched, groaning softly, before dragging her closer.

“Best way to wake up,” he murmured. “With you right here. Watching me like I’m your favorite thing in the world.”

Y/N swallowed.

“Maybe you are.”

He paused at that — just for a second. Something flickered behind his eyes. Not shock. Not fear.

Something darker.

Something hungry.

“You’re dangerous when you say things like that,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

She smiled. “You like it.”

“I do.”

Their foreheads pressed together.

“Stay with me today?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said instantly. “You don’t even have to ask.”

He leaned in and kissed her. Softly. Deeply. Like a man completely smitten, completely ruined.

And as the rain whispered against the glass and the sun bled in between the blinds, Jungkook realized something he hadn’t before:

She wasn’t just falling for him.

She was beginning to mirror him.

Not in cruelty. Not yet.

But in devotion.

And that?

That was more dangerous than anything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The kitchen was filled with soft sounds — the clink of mugs, the low hum of the coffee machine, the rustle of Y/N’s oversized sweater as she padded barefoot across the tiles.

She liked mornings like this.

The kind that felt domestic. Soft. Intimate.

Jungkook had gone into the bedroom a few minutes ago, muttering something about changing into a clean shirt. She hadn’t followed — mostly because she loved watching the rain from the window, fingers curled around warm ceramic, his scent still lingering on her skin.

But when she walked past the half-open bedroom door a moment later, she paused.

A drawer was pulled out from the dresser — not wide, but just enough.

She shouldn’t have looked.

She knew she shouldn’t have looked.

But her eyes flicked down anyway.

Black gloves. A sleek folding knife. A phone — not his regular one — face down, scratched at the edges. And something else. A photo. Just the corner of it peeking out from beneath a black hoodie.

It was her face.

Y/N froze.

Only for a breath.

Only for a second.

Then she took a slow step back. Reached for the edge of the drawer. And gently — without a sound — pushed it shut.

When Jungkook came back, towel slung around his neck, she was leaning against the kitchen counter with two mugs waiting.

He paused, taking her in. “You okay?”

Y/N smiled softly. “Yeah. Just missed you.”

She handed him the coffee. Their fingers brushed. He watched her for a moment — too long.

Something in his gaze darkened, flickered.

“You sure?” he asked again.

“Mhm.” She sipped her drink. “Why?”

He shook his head. Smiled.

“No reason.”

But his eyes lingered on her lips. Her throat. Her pulse.

Because he knew.

She had seen. She had definitely seen.

And she hadn’t said a word.

Later, when they curled back into the couch, Jungkook couldn’t stop touching her.

Not out of lust — not just.

Out of awe.

Because she didn’t scream. Didn’t demand answers. Didn’t even ask who the phone belonged to, or why he had a drawer full of things that didn’t belong in the life they pretended to lead.

Instead, she reached for him.

And he realized:

She had chosen him.

Not in spite of the shadows — but because of them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, palms resting on his knees. He hadn’t looked at her in ten minutes.

Y/N stood across the room, barefoot in one of his shirts, watching him silently. The storm outside flickered lightning through the blinds, flashing across the lines of his body, the tattoos that wrapped around his arms like smoke.

“I need to tell you something,” he said finally, voice rough.

She didn’t speak. Just nodded once.

His eyes didn’t meet hers.

“I didn’t fall in love with you when we met.” A breath. “I already loved you. Before that. Long before.”

Her breath caught — not from surprise. From the weight of it.

“I saw you on the train,” he said. “You were smiling at someone. Just a stranger. And it ruined me.”

He looked up, slowly. There was a storm in his eyes — deeper than the one outside.

“I followed you. Watched you. Found where you worked, where you lived. I memorized the way you walked, the way you laughed, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were focused.”

Y/N’s heart thundered in her chest. Still, she didn’t move.

“I thought it would fade,” he whispered. “But it didn’t. It only got worse. I started getting rid of anything that could hurt you. Anyone.”

She swallowed. “Who?”

Jungkook hesitated — then exhaled like it hurt.

“Mark.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “From my job?”

He nodded once. “I saw the way he looked at you. Touched your arm when you passed. You didn’t see it — but I did. Every time.”

A long pause.

“I waited outside his building. He never made it home.”

Y/N’s lips parted. Her hands curled into the hem of his shirt. Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

“You killed him… for me?”

Jungkook stood then. Slowly. Like a man coming undone.

“I would do it again,” he said. “I would burn down cities for you. Cut through the world just to make sure you never had to flinch. I know it’s sick. I know it’s twisted. But I can’t help it. I love you in a way that doesn’t have brakes.”

He stepped closer.

“I love you in a way that ruins things.”

She let the silence hang for a beat.

Then two.

Then, with eyes glassy, voice trembling, she said:

“Then ruin me.”

Jungkook froze.

Her eyes burned into his.

“I don’t care what you’ve done,” she whispered. “I don’t care how it started. I just care that you’re mine.”

She walked to him — slowly, deliberately — until their chests touched. Her hands slid to his jaw. Her voice was breathless, desperate.

“I want you. All of you. I want to be tangled in your mess. Your violence. Your obsession. I want you to lose your mind over me. Because I’m already losing mine over you.”

He groaned softly — then kissed her.

Not gently.

Not slowly.

He kissed her like a man at the edge of a cliff, like he’d die if he didn’t take her with him.

"Youre driving me crazy." He groaned into her mouth.

Y/N clung to him, moaning into his mouth, fingers tugging his shirt over his head. His hands were already at her thighs, lifting her, gripping like he needed bruises as proof she was real.

She wrapped her legs around him, and he carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing.

His body against hers, his mouth trailing over her neck, her chest, her stomach — worshipping like she was holy. Her fingers tangled in his hair, back arching as he slid down and took his time, tasting, devouring her like she was the only salvation he knew.

She cried out his name — desperate, broken — and he murmured, “That’s it, baby. Let me have all of it.”

When he finally moved over her again, kissing her like he’d never tasted air before, he whispered,

“You’re mine. Every part. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she gasped. “No one else. Only you.”

When he pushed inside, she felt everything — the way his hands trembled, the way his breath stuttered against her skin, the way his eyes locked onto hers like she was the last light in the world.

They moved together, slow at first — then faster, harder, more desperate.

"No one else gets to have you like this, no one gets to look, touch, breathe or fuck you like I do"

"F-uck, koo please."

It wasn’t just sex.

It was claiming.

It was obsession turned sacred.

“You ruin me,” he groaned into her mouth.

“Then let me,” she moaned back, kissing him until their lungs burned.

"Let go, cum for me." He groans.

They came together in a tangle of limbs and cries, hearts pounding against each other’s ribs, lips still clinging, hands still gripping — like even in release, they couldn’t let go.

When it was over, he held her tight, face buried in her neck, chest rising and falling like he’d survived war.

“I’m scared of how much I love you,” he whispered.

Y/N pulled his face up, kissed his lips softly.

“Then don’t fight it,” she whispered. “Let it consume us.”

He smiled — dazed, wrecked.

And she smiled back.

Because there was no going back now.

They were each other’s poison.

And neither wanted the cure.

-----------

A few months later.

An abandoned church just outside the city. Overgrown. Forgotten. There are no guests. No music. Just crumbling stone, shattered stained glass, and a full moon pouring through broken beams.

Y/N stood in front of the cracked mirror in the chapel’s apse, brushing a finger down the curve of her lip.

The reflection looking back at her didn’t belong to the girl who once flinched at shadows.

She wore white — not pure white, but off-cream silk, frayed slightly at the hem. Her hair was pinned back with gold pins. Her skin still bore faint bruises from Jungkook’s hands — not marks of pain, but proof. That she was wanted. Loved. Claimed.

Behind her, footsteps echoed softly against the stone.

Jungkook appeared in the mirror, dressed in black from collar to boots. A knife was strapped to his thigh. His hand carried a simple ring — thin, silver, elegant. She didn’t know where he got it. She didn’t ask.

He stopped behind her.

Neither of them spoke.

Instead, he reached around her waist and pulled her back against him. His chin rested on her shoulder, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“You look like mine,” he whispered.

Y/N smiled faintly at their reflection.

“I’ve always been yours.”

His eyes — dark, endless — stared into hers in the glass. His hands, steady and reverent, slipped the ring onto her finger. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

“No priest. No vows. Just this,” he murmured. “You. Me. Until the end.

Y/N turned in his arms. Her palms found his chest. His heart beat hard beneath her touch.

“Until the end,” she echoed.

And then she kissed him.

Not soft.

Not restrained.

But hungry.

Jungkook groaned into her mouth, backing her into the altar like it was sacred — like she was sacred. Her hands clawed at his jacket, his fingers tugged the silk off her shoulders, and the air thickened between them like heat.

There, in a ruined chapel lit only by moonlight, they made love like sinners pretending to be saints.

She moaned his name like a prayer. He whispered hers like a curse. Their bodies moved in rhythm with something older than forgiveness, something more powerful than absolution.

When it was over, they lay together in silence.

Her cheek rested against his chest. His fingers played with the ring now circling her finger — the only thing left between them and the world.

Jungkook spoke first.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, barely audible.

Y/N smiled. She didn’t even open her eyes.

“No,” she breathed. “I’ve never felt more like myself.”

A long silence.

Then she added, softer

“I used to be afraid of turning into someone unrecognizable.”

He looked down at her.

“And now?”

Y/N turned her face toward the broken mirror beside them.

The girl she used to be was gone.

But in her place was a woman forged from obsession and devotion. And in his arms, she had never felt more alive.

She stared at her reflection.

“I recognize her now,” she whispered. “And she loves you more than her own soul.”

Jungkook kissed her again. This time, not with urgency. But with certainty.

"Koo?"

"Yes, princess."

“Promise me this never ends.” She whispers.

“It can’t. You’re carved into me.”

She smiled, part of her knows nothing will go back to the way it was. But she was okay with it, as long as she had him.

“There’s no heaven waiting for people like us, you know?” she said.

“I don’t need heaven,” he replied. “I have you.”

“Even if we go to hell?” “Then we’ll rule it—hand in hand.”

[jeonette]

living in cyberpunk - jjk 18+

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : dystopian | mafia | forbidden love au

rating : smut, angst, 18+

"you cant get in trouble if you haven't gotten caught"

chapter 3 ; friction sparks fire

The city hadn’t woken yet, but inside the apartment, tension thrummed like a live wire.

You stood at the kitchen sink, staring into a chipped mug filled with cold tea you hadn’t touched. Rain tapped against the windows like a warning you weren’t ready to hear.

Behind you, Jimin paced again. The floor creaked every third step — a sound that had become a heartbeat of its own since dawn.

“We need to leave the city,” he finally said.

Yoongi, seated at the table, didn’t look up. “That won’t stop them.”

“It’ll buy us time.”

“It’ll piss them off,” Yoongi corrected, calmly tapping ash from his cigarette into a cracked glass dish. “And paint targets on our backs from three more directions.”

You finally spoke. “We’re not running.”

Jimin stopped. “You weren’t the one with a gun to your head last night.”

You turned slowly. “No. I was the one who saw him risk his life to protect people he didn’t have to.”

Jimin’s eyes flickered. “You still think he’s innocent?”

“I think he’s not the one with a snake tattoo on the back of his neck.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is it, Jimin?” you snapped, voice sharp. “That you hate the idea that someone like him might care about someone like me?”

The words came out harsher than you meant. The silence that followed hit harder.

Yoongi finally looked up. “He’s not the enemy. But he’s close to him.”

You swallowed, voice quieter now. “I know.”

There was a long pause.

Then Yoongi added, “We need to find out more about Taehyung. And fast. Before this gets worse.”

“Worse?” Jimin scoffed. “People already died last night.”

You glanced down at your mug, fingers trembling slightly. You could still hear the gunfire. Still feel the echo of Jungkook’s hand in yours, the way he looked at you when he said—

“If I’m not, remember what I didn’t say.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until Jimin crossed the room and wrapped you in his arms.

“We’ll protect you,” he murmured against your hair. “Even if it’s from him.”

You clung to him, but inside, a quiet storm was rising.

You needed answers. Not just from Taehyung.

From Jungkook.

From the boy who said nothing, but meant everything.

------

The door clicked shut behind you like a final word.

The hallway outside was dim, lit by a flickering panel above the stairwell. You moved fast, hood up, head down, boots silent on the concrete as you descended three flights into the mouth of Auraxis.

You’d timed it perfectly — Yoongi was asleep, or as close as he ever got to it, one gun under his pillow and one eye probably half open. Jimin had passed out in a chair with an empty bottle and too many ghosts.

Still, you didn't breathe until you’d slipped past the cameras, past the old market stalls being set up for morning traffic, and disappeared into the cracks between city blocks.

Auraxis had veins — alleys, tunnels, overgrown tram lines — and you knew how to walk them without leaving a trail.

The rain slicked the streets. Neon bled into puddles like bruises. You moved on instinct, your feet carrying you east, past the perimeter wards, deeper into Jungkook’s world.

You didn’t know what you were going to say.

You just knew you had to see him.

And then you felt it.

A presence.

Footsteps a beat behind yours. A breath held too long. You ducked into a service tunnel off 7th Street and spun, fist tight around the knife you kept in your coat.

A shape stepped from the shadows.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Leaning against the wall like he’d been waiting for you the whole time. Black hoodie, damp curls falling into his eyes, split lip healing crooked. He looked like hell. And still somehow, like gravity.

“You followed me?” you asked, breathless.

He looked up. “You didn’t make it hard.”

You lowered the knife, barely. “Why?”

“Because I knew you’d come.”

A silence stretched between you. The tunnel felt smaller than it was. You could hear the city breathing above.

“I didn’t know if you were alive,” you whispered. “After last night…”

“I’m fine.” A pause. “Jin isn’t.”

You nodded. “The ambush. It wasn’t yours.”

“No.”

“Taehyung?”

His jaw tensed. “He went off-script.”

You stepped closer. “That tattoo. Jimin recognized it.”

“I know.” His voice went quiet. “That’s why I need you to listen to me. Carefully.”

You stared at him.

And he stared right back — into you. Through you.

“The man who killed your parents,” he said slowly, “is the same man who raised me.”

Silence. Heavy and sharp. Then—

You slapped him.

Hard.

Jungkook didn’t flinch. Just stood there, cheek reddening, eyes steady.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry.

Instead, you whispered, “Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I don’t want to lie to you,” he said. “Not anymore.”

You looked at him. Really looked at him.

“You’re still with them,” you said. “Still one of them.”

“I’m trying not to be.”

Jungkook stood there like a shadow stitched to the wall. Rain dripped from his hoodie, lips parted like he was still trying to breathe.

And you didn’t know what was worse — that he’d told you the truth, or that you believed him.

“I should hate you,” you said softly.

His eyes flickered. “I know.”

“I should run.”

“I know that too.”

“But I’m still here.”

You stepped toward him. The knife in your hand dropped to your side.

Jungkook didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe. You were close enough now to see the tiny scar on his jaw, the one you’d traced once in the dark with your fingers when you’d let yourself forget who he was.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t walk away.”

“Because I haven’t,” he said. “Because every time I close my eyes, it’s you. And I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be him.”

You didn’t mean to reach for him.

But you did.

Fingers curled into the collar of his hoodie, pulling him down, and then—

Your lips met his.

Rough and furious, soaked with rain and grief and things neither of you had names for. He kissed you like he’d been dying to, like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His hands wrapped itself around your waist, like if he let go, you’d vanish.

Pulling you closer, he pushes you against the wall lightly.

"You cant stay away from me now, I wont let you." He murmurs in between the kiss

" I don't want you to too."

The city roared around you. But here, in this tunnel, you could’ve sworn the world stopped.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, your foreheads touched.

“I shouldn’t love you,” you whispered.

“But you do,” he said.

"I love you more, though." He let out a soft and guilty smile.

"We'll fight through this, okay? Together." You let out, breathes entangling with one another.

Jungkook stared into your eyes, he felt so guilty for falling in love with you, but now that he knew you felt the same, he wasn't going to let you go.

He gives you a gentle, soft, lingering kiss.

And then —

A sound.

Bootsteps. Metallic. Deliberate.

Jungkook stiffened.

“Someone followed you,” he said.

“No,” you breathed. “I was careful—”

“Not careful enough.”

You turned as a figure stepped into the far end of the tunnel, backlit by flickering white light. The kind of presence that froze blood before a weapon was even drawn.

“Shit,” Jungkook muttered. “Run.”

“Who—?”

“It’s Taehyung.”

Your heart stopped.

The man who ruined your life. The one you saw in your nightmares. And now he was here, in the flesh, walking toward you with a smile like a knife.

“Well well,” he drawled, voice echoing down the tunnel. “Isn’t this cozy.”

Jungkook stepped in front of you. Shielded you without hesitation.

“Stay back,” he said.

Taehyung tilted his head, amused. “You really think I’d hurt her?”

His eyes found yours.

And for the first time in years, you saw them up close — the exact same eyes that had looked down at your mother’s body that night. Cold. Unflinching. Familiar.

“Hello, Rae,” he said softly. “You look just like her.”

Your knees almost gave out.

“Don’t,” Jungkook growled. “Don’t talk to her.”

“You told her?” Taehyung asked, raising a brow. “That was fast. Bold, even.”

“She had the right to know.”

“Oh, Jungkook,” he sighed. “You always were soft when it mattered most.”

Taehyung took another step forward. The dim light caught the gleam of metal at his side — not drawn, not yet. Just a reminder.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, surprising even yourself.

His eyes flicked back to you, curious. “Do what?”

“Play the villain. We both know you’re already ten moves ahead — so what’s this, then? A warning shot? A performance for Jungkook’s sake?”

He smiled — slow, deliberate. “Smart girl. Like I said, just like your mother.”

Your stomach twisted, but you stood your ground.

Jungkook shifted beside you. You could feel the heat rolling off him — ready to explode, to protect. You touched his arm, a silent plea.

“Why now?” you asked Taehyung. “Why come here?”

“I was curious,” he said. “Curious if the boy I trained would betray me for a pair of pretty eyes.”

“And?” Jungkook growled.

Taehyung looked at him. “And he did. I suppose that means I trained you too well.”

Silence stretched again. Long enough for you to hear the pulse in your ears.

Taehyung turned slightly, gaze sweeping the tunnel behind him. “This city’s shifting. Lines are blurring. Loyalties, even more so.”

He looked at Jungkook one last time.

“Enjoy your night. Both of you. It might be your last one that feels this quiet.”

And just like that, he turned and walked into the dark — swallowed by the city’s bones as if he’d never been there at all.

You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until he was gone.

Jungkook was frozen beside you, shoulders coiled tight, like one wrong move would bring the world crashing down.

You stepped closer, touching his chest — right over where his heart still thundered.

“He’s gone,” you whispered. “We’re okay.”

His hand covered yours slowly, fingers trembling against your skin.

“I should’ve stopped him,” Jungkook said, voice low. Raw. “Should’ve drawn. Fought. Done something.”

“No,” you said. “You did exactly what you needed to.”

“And what was that?”

“Stayed,” you breathed. “With me.”

He looked down at you then, eyes shadowed and shining. “Princess,” he murmured, like the word was both a prayer and a curse. “I don’t know how to be near you without breaking every rule I was raised with.”

You brushed a strand of wet hair from his cheek. “Then break them.”

Jungkook let out a breath, barely a laugh — full of disbelief and want. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

“You’ve said worse,” you smiled.

He stared at you for a long, quiet moment. Rain ran down the side of his neck. His lip was split and his hoodie was still soaked, but none of it mattered.

He leaned in slowly. Pressed his forehead to yours. Closed his eyes like he was memorizing the feeling.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered.

“You didn’t,” you said. “I’m right here.”

“I don’t deserve this,” he murmured, voice breaking now. “You. Any of this.”

You tipped your head, brushing your lips against his. “That’s not your call, Jungkook.”

He pulled you close, kissing you again — slower this time. Less fire, more ache. Like he wanted to savor the seconds, in case they were your last.

When he pulled back, he cupped your face in both hands.

“Come with me,” you said. “Back to my place.”

He hesitated. “Rae—”

“I’m not asking,” you said softly. “You need rest. So do I. And if something’s coming, we face it together.”

He looked at you like you were light in a place he thought would always be dark.

Then he nodded.

“Okay.”

And hand in hand, you walked out of the tunnel. Back into the rising pulse of Auraxis. Back into whatever waited next.

Together.

------

The door creaked open on tired hinges.

You slipped inside first, boots wet from rain, hood down. Jungkook followed a step behind, quiet as a shadow.

Inside, the apartment was dim — the only light came from the orange glow of a neon sign bleeding through the slats of the window. It painted the room in the kind of warmth that didn't reach skin. Only memory.

Jimin was on the couch, head back, a pistol still loose in his hand from where he’d fallen asleep waiting. Yoongi sat in the kitchen, wide awake as ever, eyes already on you.

No one spoke as Jungkook stepped into the apartment and shut the door behind him.

Jimin woke with a start.

“The fuck?” His voice was hoarse. His eyes landed on Jungkook, and his whole body tensed. “You brought him here?”

“I did,” you said, steady. “And you’re not pulling that trigger.”

Jimin stood up, slow but lethal. “He shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet he is,” Yoongi said from the kitchen, flicking ash into a tray, eyes locked on Jungkook like he was a threat one breath away from being neutralized. “You’d better have a reason.”

Jungkook didn’t flinch.

“She asked me to come.”

Jimin’s jaw clenched. “Of course she did.”

“Jimin—” you started.

“No,” he snapped. “You think you can kiss him in the rain and forget what he is?”

Jungkook took a step forward, voice low. “You think I want to be what he made me?”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “You think that matters now?”

“Stop it,” you said sharply, stepping between them.

Silence fell, thick with anger and grief and all the things you didn’t have time to say.

You turned to Yoongi. “Can he stay the night? Just the night.”

Yoongi didn’t look away from Jungkook. “He sleeps where I can see him. And if I hear one wrong sound—”

“You won’t,” Jungkook said.

A long pause.

Then Yoongi nodded once. “Then fine.”

Jimin stormed into the hallway, the slam of the bathroom door shaking the walls.

You exhaled slowly.

Jungkook stood still, the weight of the apartment pressing in on him. Everything here was mismatched — chipped counters, old wiring, a picture frame taped together with copper strips. But it was real. And for a moment, he let himself feel it.

“Princess,” he said softly, turning to you. “You didn’t have to do this.”

You stepped closer, voice low. “Yes, I did.”

His eyes searched yours — exhausted, uncertain.

“You’re safe here,” you said. “Tonight, that’s all that matters.”

He hesitated. Then his hand reached out, brushing against yours like a question. You didn’t pull away.

Yoongi watched from the kitchen. Said nothing.

You led Jungkook to the old cot near the window. A threadbare blanket. A cracked lamp. But to him, it looked like sanctuary.

He sat down slowly, back against the wall, pulling the hoodie from his damp curls. You knelt in front of him, fingers ghosting over his bruised jaw.

“You’re not alone anymore,” you whispered.

His eyes flicked up to you, softening.

“Say it again.”

You leaned in, close enough for your breath to warm his lips.

“You’re not alone.”

He smiled — tired, wrecked, and still beautiful.

“Damn it,” he whispered. “I love you so much it hurts.”

You kissed him again — not like the tunnel. Not desperate. Just true.

Then you pulled away, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

“Sleep, Jungkook.”

He caught your hand before you could move. Held it to his chest.

“Stay with me,” he murmured. “Just until I fall asleep.”

You nodded.

And under the flicker of citylight, you sat beside the boy you shouldn’t love.

And loved him anyway.

------

The door closed with a soft click behind you.

The apartment had quieted since you returned. Jungkook was asleep on the worn couch, your blanket pulled up to his shoulders, breath finally steady. You hadn’t told Jimin or Yoongi everything yet—just enough for them to exchange a long look across the room and not ask more. Not yet.

Now you stood in Jimin’s room, tucked into the back of the apartment, the air still heavy with the scent of gun oil, laundry detergent, and him. Yoongi sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, cigarette unlit between his fingers. Jimin paced, arms crossed, jaw set hard enough to crack.

No one spoke for a moment.

Then—

“You brought him here,” Jimin said, not looking at you. Not accusing. Just… stunned.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you replied, voice low.

Yoongi glanced up. “He’s safe?”

“For now.”

Jimin turned, eyes glassy with too many feelings layered over each other—anger, fear, exhaustion, love. “Rae…”

“I know,” you said, and your voice cracked just enough to make him stop pacing.

You sank onto the edge of the bed beside Yoongi, pressing your hands between your knees like if you could just hold yourself together tight enough, none of this would spill out.

“I didn’t ask for this,” you whispered. “I didn’t ask to feel anything for him.”

Jimin sat down on the floor in front of you, back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest. He looked so much like the boy you grew up with in that moment — the one who cried for your mother’s scarf after the funeral and promised you he’d never let anyone hurt you again.

“I want to hate him,” he said softly. “I really do.”

“I know.”

“But then I see the way he looks at you,” Jimin continued, voice rough, “like the whole world starts and ends in you. And I think maybe that’s what terrifies me most.”

Yoongi flicked the unlit cigarette away, as if deciding there were better things to do than burn. “I don’t trust him,” he said. “But I trust you.”

You looked up at him, surprised.

“You always see things before we do,” Yoongi added. “You saw through that politician who tried to buy us off last year. You saw the patterns in the Hive smuggling runs. Hell, you saw through me when I was two weeks deep into the worst cover job of my life.”

“I got lucky.”

“No,” he said. “You see people. Even when it hurts.”

You swallowed hard, trying to breathe past the ache building in your throat. “He told me about Taehyung. About what he’s done.”

“And you still believe in him?” Jimin asked, eyes searching yours.

“I don’t know if I believe in him,” you answered, honestly. “But I believe in what I felt when he kissed me like I was worth saving.”

That silenced the room.

Yoongi stood, stretching his back with a grunt. “Then we move forward with our eyes open.”

Jimin rubbed his face, then looked up at you, soft again. “You know we’ll fight for you, right?”

“I don’t want you to fight for me,” you whispered. “I want you to fight with me.”

There it was again — the tether. Invisible but unbreakable. You, Jimin, and Yoongi. A family forged in blood and loyalty, not birth.

“I love you both,” you said, barely holding the tears now. “No matter what happens. That doesn’t change.”

Jimin rose and wrapped his arms around you without a word. Yoongi followed, slower but no less steady, resting a hand on your back as your forehead pressed to Jimin’s shoulder.

“We’ve got you,” Jimin murmured. “We always have.”

And for a moment, just a moment, the storm outside faded.

You weren’t alone.

Not anymore.

_____

The scent of instant coffee and fried eggs hung in the air like a peace offering.

Morning sunlight seeped through the cracked blinds, cutting soft golden lines across the kitchen floor. A city like Auraxis never really slept, but the noise outside had dimmed to a low hum — tired neon signs buzzing, delivery drones whining past, someone yelling half-heartedly in the alley two floors down.

Jungkook sat at the tiny table in the corner, barefoot, hoodie traded for a worn black t-shirt. He still looked like hell — cut lip, dark rings under his eyes — but the kind of hell that fit right into the bones of this apartment.

Yoongi passed him a mug of coffee without a word and took the seat across from him. Jimin stood by the stove, flipping eggs like it was the only way to keep his hands busy.

“You eat?” Jimin asked over his shoulder.

Jungkook hesitated, glancing toward Rae’s closed bedroom door. “She made me,” he said after a second.

Yoongi snorted. “Sounds like her.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook murmured, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “She doesn’t take no for an answer.”

Silence followed — not hostile, but cautious. A weight between them, familiar and new all at once.

Jimin plated the eggs and slid one toward Jungkook before sitting down. He tapped his fork once, then looked up.

“So,” he said. “You and Rae.”

Jungkook didn’t flinch, but his grip on the mug tightened.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he said quietly. “I didn’t expect her to… care.”

“And yet here we are,” Yoongi muttered.

“She’s different,” Jungkook added, eyes fixed on the swirling steam from his coffee. “She makes me want to be someone else.”

Jimin studied him carefully. “Someone better?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Good,” Yoongi said simply. “Because if she cries because of you again, I’ll break your ribs.”

Jungkook blinked.

“He’s not kidding,” Jimin said around a mouthful of egg.

“I figured,” Jungkook murmured.

Another beat of silence passed.

Jimin leaned back in his chair. “You know, I used to think she was unbreakable. Rae. She was always the one patching us up, never letting herself fall apart.”

Yoongi nodded, stirring sugar into his mug. “Then last night, she walked in holding onto you like the only thing keeping her standing was your heartbeat.”

Jungkook looked down, guilt etched into every line of him.

“I’d die before I hurt her,” he said.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, not unkindly. “That’s what scares us.”

They let that hang in the air for a while. Somewhere down the hall, a floorboard creaked — the sound of Rae turning over in bed.

Jungkook looked toward her door again, a softness overtaking his features. “She called me ‘home’ last night,” he said under his breath. “I haven’t had that in years.”

Yoongi didn’t speak. Just stared at him for a long moment before finally saying:

“She doesn’t let people in easy.”

“I know.”

“If you’re gonna stay,” Jimin said, setting his fork down, “then stay. Really stay. Don’t give us a reason to lose her again.”

Jungkook met his eyes, steady this time. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time since the night at Nox, something almost like peace settled between them. Not trust. Not yet.

But the beginning of something close.

Yoongi exhaled, finally taking a bite of breakfast. “Well,” he said around the food, “if we’re gonna survive this shitstorm, might as well start the day with eggs.”

Jimin smirked. “And maybe some less brooding tension in the air?”

Jungkook cracked a smile. “I’ll work on it.”

And down the hall, Rae stirred in bed — unaware that, for the first time in weeks, the world outside her door wasn’t falling apart.

It was quietly, tentatively, coming together.

Your bare feet padded softly across the hardwood as you emerged from your room, still wearing the oversized shirt you’d stolen from Yoongi years ago and never returned. The apartment smelled like coffee and fried food — and something warmer. Calmer. Like the tension that had held the walls together for days had finally begun to unravel.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and paused at the doorway.

There they were.

Jimin, half-lounging in a chair with bedhead and a half-empty plate in front of him. Yoongi, hunched over his coffee like it was a tactical weapon. And Jungkook — hair damp from a quick shower, t-shirt clinging to his chest, mug in hand as he listened to something Jimin was saying.

And then he saw you.

The look he gave you wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. It was the quiet kind — the kind that said there you are, I missed you without saying a word at all.

“Morning, Princess,” Jungkook said softly, voice touched with sleep and something tender.

You blinked, trying not to smile. “You’re still here.”

“Told you I would be.”

Jimin raised a brow. “What, no ‘good morning’ for your favorite brother?”

“Good morning, second-favorite brother,” you said with a smirk, brushing past him to steal a piece of toast from his plate.

Jimin gasped in mock offense. “Wow. Betrayal before noon. Incredible.”

Yoongi deadpanned, “You were never first.”

“You were never first either!”

“Still better than third,” Yoongi muttered.

You slid into the empty chair next to Jungkook and let your shoulder brush his. He didn’t pull away. If anything, his hand found your knee under the table, grounding. Gentle.

“I see we’re all pretending to be civil now,” you teased, glancing between them.

“We figured if we’re gonna die together, we might as well eat breakfast first,” Jimin said.

Yoongi nodded. “Dying on an empty stomach is bad form.”

You chuckled, biting into the toast. “Good to know we’ve got our priorities straight.”

“But really,” Jimin said more quietly now, “we talked this morning. Things aren’t… fixed. But they’re not broken either.”

“We’re trying,” Yoongi added, and for him, that was as close to an olive branch as it got.

You looked to Jungkook, who was already watching you, thumb tracing circles against your leg beneath the table.

“I know,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

He leaned in just slightly, brushing a kiss to your temple. “You sleep okay?”

“With you here?” you whispered. “Yeah. I did.”

“Gross,” Jimin said immediately, grabbing his mug. “I take it back. I want the tension back.”

“Agreed,” Yoongi muttered. “Bring back the death glares.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed — really laughed — and for the first time in what felt like forever, it didn’t feel forced. Didn’t feel like armor. Just joy, tangled up in the comfort of familiarity.

For one morning, in the battered glow of a city built on ghosts, you were just four people in an apartment.

Eating breakfast.

Making jokes.

You leaned back in your chair, half-finished toast in hand, watching the people you loved do what they did best — poke at each other like siblings who’d seen too much but still found ways to laugh about it.

“You know,” Jimin said, mouth full of eggs, “I still think I deserve an apology from someone.”

“For what?” you asked.

“For being right,” he said smugly, jabbing a thumb at Jungkook. “I said he was trouble. And guess what? He is.”

“First of all,” you replied, “you call everyone trouble.”

“Because they are!”

“She called you trouble once,” Yoongi added without looking up.

Jimin pointed a dramatic finger. “And she was right.”

You all broke into laughter again, the sound echoing soft against the apartment walls like music. Jungkook shook his head, setting his mug down.

“You really put up with this every day?” he murmured to you, lips brushing your ear.

You turned, voice low. “Only because they put up with me.”

His hand drifted to yours under the table, fingers intertwining. His touch was careful but sure, like he still half-expected you to pull away — and was still amazed when you didn’t.

You squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Jungkook smiled faintly. “I think I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since the day we met.”

“You were too busy threatening me with your dumb leather jacket and tragic stare.”

He leaned closer, a smirk playing at his lips. “You liked the jacket.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“I’m literally throwing it out.”

“Princess, don’t you dare—”

“She’s the princess now?” Jimin cut in, narrowing his eyes. “I swear, if one more person forgets I’m royalty—”

“You’re royalty in your own head,” Yoongi mumbled.

Jimin gasped. “Betrayal from all sides.”

You couldn’t stop laughing. Your chest hurt from it, from joy you hadn’t known you’d missed so badly. Jungkook was still watching you — something softer behind his eyes now. Something raw and real.

You turned to face him, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I just…” He hesitated. “I didn’t think this would ever be mine. Moments like this.”

You looked at him — really looked at him — and your heart ached with how much you wanted to keep him here. Safe. Loved.

“You get to have this,” you whispered. “You deserve to have this.”

He leaned in and kissed you. Just a press of lips, short and sweet, like he couldn’t go another second without doing it. When he pulled back, you rested your forehead against his.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I know,” you whispered back. “Me too.”

Yoongi cleared his throat pointedly. “If you’re both done turning my kitchen into a romance novel—”

“You’re just bitter because no one’s kissed you today,” Jimin muttered.

“Touch me and I’ll shoot you,” Yoongi replied.

“See? So loved.”

You grinned and let the laughter fade slowly into a peaceful kind of silence. The kind that came only when people knew each other down to their bones. You looked at the three of them — two who’d raised you with bite and tenderness, one who kissed you like the world was ending.

And then, quietly, you said what no one wanted to say first:

“We need a plan.”

The mood shifted. Not gone — just tucked gently away, like a favorite photo in the back of a drawer.

Yoongi sat up straighter. “We do.”

Jimin sighed. “You know where I stand.”

“Taehyung isn’t going to let this go,” Jungkook said. “He’s playing a longer game. Last night was just a taste.”

“We need to figure out what he wants,” you said. “Why he revealed himself now.”

“Control,” Yoongi said simply. “And fear. He wants the streets to know he’s still king.”

“But if he’s showing himself,” Jimin said slowly, “maybe he’s not as untouchable as he wants people to think.”

A pause.

You looked around the table. Felt the gravity settle.

“You said lines are blurring,” you said to Jungkook. “Then let’s blur them more. Let’s turn his own game against him.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking rebellion.”

“I’m thinking survival,” you replied. “But yeah. With a little style.”

Jimin smiled. Yoongi reached for his cigarette. And Jungkook?

He looked at you like you were everything he’d never believed he could have — and now wouldn’t let go of for anything.

“Let’s do it, Princess,” he said. “Whatever it takes.”

[jeonette]

masterlist | 𝕵.

ᯓ★ sasha, 18 years

ᯓ★ user has changed from @/jeeonks to @/jeonette.

ᯓ★ fics posted will only cater to jungkook x reader ( list will be updated if a decision to write other members is made, nevertheless, ONLY bts members will be written and posted. )

ᯓ★ minors DNI ! if age is not seen in bio, you will be blocked.

ᯓ★ refrain from reposting my work & plagiarism will ( obviously ) not be tolerated.

ᯓ★‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

series! ── .✦ ╰┈➤

living in cyberpunk ; forbidden love. smut. angst. 18+ [ series. ongoing ]

NOTE! : discontinued until further notice.

part one | part two | part three | part four....

In the heart of Auraxis-a city ruled by secrets and power-Aurelia crosses paths with Jeon Jungkook, a man she was never meant to meet. Their worlds are enemies. Their love is a crime. But no matter how many dangers close in-rival factions, betrayals, threats from every side-they refuse to let go of each other. Staying together means defying everything... and everyone. In a city where trust is deadly and love is a weakness, how far will they go to hold on to the one thing they can't live without?

ᯓ★ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

| one shots! ── .✦

╰┈➤

knockout love ; boxer!best friend, best friend to lovers, he’d do anything for her. fluff + angst.

“I promise I’ll make it out alive, princess.”

soft love ; soft smut, fluff, 18+

in which jungkook makes love to y/n while constantly praising her and her insecurities.

eternal obsession ; dark romance, obsessive, 18+ [ smut, angst ]

In which Jungkook is everything Y/N ever wanted — tender, protective, and obsessed. But behind his love lies a trail of secrets and blood no one was meant to find. What if the man who would kill for her… already has? Because if there’s no heaven for people like them, they’ll rule hell, hand in hand.

my favourite chapter : soft romance, bittersweet.

Jungkook and Y/n were each other’s first everything. But the world asked them to choose between love and growth. They didn't want to stop loving each other, but then again, isn't loving someone, letting them go?

after school hours : enemies to lovers, 90's high school romance.

A classic 90's enemies to lovers skit. Mixtapes, rooftop hangouts, and harmless bickering between classes. But somewhere between hallway glances, stolen car rides, and one kiss under the stars, everything changed.

say you're mine : jealous, posessive romance. 18+ [ smut ]

in which Jungkook sees Y/n's ex getting a little too touchy and talkative for his liking. And he's not having any of it. So he takes her home and fucks her silly.

[jeonette]

living in cyberpunk - jjk 18+

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : dystopian | mafia | forbidden love au

rating : 18+ | smut | angst

"you cant get in trouble if you haven't gotten caught"

chapter two : ghost in the city

My face was burried into my pillow, slowly scrolling through my phone when a message pops up.

The messages started innocently enough.

[ Jungkook ]:  You up?

[ You ]: Hey, yeah I'm up.

[ Jungkook ]: Is it too early to see that pretty face of yours? 

[ You ]: Depends, where are you taking me?

 [ Jungkook ]: Depends, where do you want to go? 

[ You ]: Anywhere. 

[ Jungkook ]: I do have a bike... meet me at the corner of 5th and Neon. In ten.

You and jungkook have been texting for around a week since you last saw each other at the arcade. He was more your type than you could've imagined. 

So when he finally asked you to meet, how could you say no?

You walk into the corner, immediately seeing your guy. 

Black puffer bike jacket, his hair a bit longer than it was before. With that god damn lip piercing you loved. 

"Hey princess" He let out, walking closer towards you.

"Hey... nice ride" 

"Yeah? You like? Its a VX-9 Viper, custom made" 

"Shit that's sexy as hell, I own a seraph blade, too common around here" 

Jungkook simply chuckles "Ready to go?"

_____

The engine of his matte-black bike purred beneath you as you clung to him, arms wrapped tight around his waist. The wind whipped past your face, carrying the scent of ozone, neon, and danger. The city lights bled together in a blur of color, the pulse of Auraxis alive under your skin.

You weren't sure where he was taking you until he slowed atop one of the oldest overpasses in the city. The skyline stretched wide ahead, fractured and beautiful, neon and shadow merging like a dream.

"This is my favorite spot," he said, helmet off now, curls tousled by the wind.

"Its beautiful. Why your favourite though?"

He looked ahead. "Because it's quiet. Out there, no one's trying to survive. Up here, I can breathe."

You stepped closer. "You can breathe with me?"

His smile was soft. Honest. "Yeah. I think I can."

He didn't kiss you. But the air between you carried the weight of a thousand almosts.

The ride back was slower this time. Jungkook wasn't in a rush to end the night, and neither were you. When he pulled up in front of your building, the city had quieted down, the streets empty except for the hum of far-off traffic and flickering streetlights.

He killed the engine but didn't move. Just sat there, helmet tucked under his arm, gaze fixed on you.

You turned to face him. "Thanks for the ride."

"Thanks for saying yes."

You smiled, then paused, tilting your head. "Is this the part where you vanish into the night again?"

He shook his head slowly. "Actually... I was hoping you'd say yes to something else."

Your brow lifted, amused. "Is this where you tell me you're secretly romantic?"

He gave a short laugh, then leaned in just slightly — not too close, but enough to make your breath catch.

"There's this place. Violet Drift." he said. "Tonight. Midnight. I'll be there with my crew."

Your heartbeat picked up. "You want me to come?"

"I want you to see more of me than just city lights and stolen bike rides."

You hesitated. Not because you didn't want to. But because the way he looked at you — like he was asking for something bigger than one night — made it hard to breathe.

"Okay," you said finally. "I'll come."

His smile was small, but something in it shifted — like you'd just stepped over a line that meant something to him.

"I'll see you there," he said, voice low.

Then he was gone — slipping back onto the bike, revving the engine, disappearing into the blur of neon without another word.

_____

"Let me get this straight," Yoongi said as he folded his arms. "He took you on a midnight bike ride and now he wants you to meet his gang friends at one of the most dangerous clubs in the city?"

"They're not just gang friends," you replied, tying your hair up in front of the mirror.

"Oh, I feel so much better now," Jimin muttered, pacing behind you. "Rae, seriously. You don't know these people."

"I know him," you said simply.

Yoongi scoffed. "You know his voice over text."

"He didn't have to ask me. He wanted me there."

"Which is exactly why we're going with you," Jimin cut in. "Because if one of them so much as breathes wrong in your direction—"

"You'll scare him off?" you teased. "Relax. I want to go. And I want you guys with me."

Yoongi and Jimin shared a look. Reluctant. Protective. But resigned.

"Fine," Yoongi said.  

You sigh, moving forward to hug the both of them " I love you guys too much, I just want you guys to like him" 

You hear them both sigh. 

"We know baby. We know."

Violet Drift -

The club was a heartbeat you could feel before you ever saw it.

Down a cracked alley behind what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Its entrance was marked by nothing more than a single glowing sigil above a steel door — dark red, like the promise of something dangerous.

Yoongi surveyed the entrance like he was planning an escape route. "This place smells like blood and bad decisions."

"You say that like it's new," Jimin muttered, pulling his jacket tighter. He glanced at you. "You sure about this?"

You nodded, heart pounding.

You spotted Jungkook near the back bar, lit in violet and red. He wore black on black, rings on his fingers, a chain glinting at his neck. Around him were four others — each dangerous in their own way.

"You came," Jungkook said as you approached, eyes never leaving yours.

"Told you I would."

He smiled, then nodded at his friends.

"My friends. Namjoon. Jin. Hoseok. Taehyung," he introduced.

Each one nodded, offering a variation of polite nods and appraising looks.

"This is Jimin and Yoongi," you said, glancing back at your guys.

Taehyung's gaze lingered on Jimin a moment too long.

Jimin's brows pulled together. There was something there — not memory exactly, but a flicker of recognition. He couldn't place it.

"You look familiar," Jimin said slowly.

Taehyung smiled faintly. "I get that a lot."

You cut in before the tension could build. "You guys all grew up together?"

"Most of us," Jin answered softly, sipping his drink. "Some bonded by blood. Some by bullets."

"Comforting," Yoongi muttered.

Jungkook laughed. "They're family."

Then Jungkook leaned in, lips brushing close to your ear. "Come with me."

You glanced between your friends, hesitant.

"I won't take you far," he added, softer. "Just need a second. Alone."

Jimin mentally sighed, nodding in approval. "We'll wait here, be back soon alright?"

He says softly, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead, not before whispering to you 

"You're wearing the necklace right? Press it if something is wrong, we'll come and get you." 

You simply nod. Giving him an "ill be okay" look, before jungkook takes his hand in yours.

You followed him through the winding corridors of Nox, the music dulling behind you. Up a narrow staircase, he led you to a quiet side balcony overlooking the city.

The air was cooler here. The skyline stretched out in fractured light.

For a long moment, he said nothing — just leaned on the railing, hands clasped together. You joined him, arms brushing.

"Was it too much?" he asked quietly.

"The club?"

"My world."

You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. "I've seen worse."

"I don't want you seeing worse. Not because of me."

"Too late for that," you murmured.

He turned to you fully now. "You keep showing up like I didn't build every wall for a reason."

You tilted your head. "And you keep letting me in like I wasn't built to break them."

His breath hitched slightly. You could see it in the twitch of his jaw, the flare of something in his eyes.

He stepped closer. Not touching. But close enough that the space between you felt electric.

"Rae..." he said softly, voice a little raw. "You scare the shit out of me."

You swallowed. "Why?"

"Because I don't think I'd let go of you, even if I should."

You didn't move. Didn't breathe. But God, you wanted to.

Then— your phone buzzed.

The sound cut the moment in half. You pulled it from your pocket, saw Jimin's name, and answered immediately.

"Jimin?"

Gunshots cracked through the line.

"Rae—get down here. Now. Someone broke in. They're shooting—"

The line cut.

You looked at Jungkook — his expression already shifting, mask slamming down over softness like armor.

"Stay behind me," he said, already turning.

But you were already running_____

The music below cut out.

Then came the screams.

You bolted past Jungkook and down the stairs, your boots pounding against the metal, heart jackhammering in your chest. The flashing lights from the club distorted everything—faces, bodies, shadows. Then the first gunshot shattered the illusion.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

People screamed and scattered. Broken glass rained down from the bar. Someone shoved into you hard as you reached the ground floor. You tripped, caught yourself, and scanned the chaos.

Jimin and Yoongi were crouched behind an overturned table, eyes scanning the exits. Yoongi's gun was already drawn. Jimin pulled you down with them the second he saw you.

"Are you out of your mind?" Jimin shouted over the noise.

"I'm fine, chim" you said, breathless.

"Where is he?" Yoongi asked. You looked behind you to see jungkook not in sight.

"Upstairs—he—he was right behind me—"

A body slammed into the table you were hiding behind, sending it lurching. Gunfire crackled from the balcony now. You turned to look — Jungkook had returned fire, leaning over the railing, shooting into the crowd with precision. He wasn't aiming at civilians. Just one group.

Four men in armored coats and masks had stormed the front entrance. They weren't just random thugs — this was coordinated. Planned. One of them barked into a comm unit as another sprayed bullets across the bar, ripping into the sound system and throwing the place into blackout.

Only strobing lights and chaos remained.

"They're looking for someone," Yoongi growled. "This isn't random."

Jimin's jaw clenched. "You think it's him? Jungkook?"

"Or someone in his crew."

"Either way," you said, pulling a small blade from your boot, "we're not just sitting here."

Jimin stared at you, stunned for a heartbeat. Then he nodded. "Stay behind me."

"Not a chance."

From the smoke, Taehyung appeared, dragging an injured Jin behind a booth. Blood streaked his sleeve but his eyes were clear — calculating. Namjoon flanked him, barking orders, trying to get clubgoers out the back exit.

Jungkook leapt the balcony railing and landed hard beside you, crouched low. "You okay?" he asked.

You nodded. "Your guy's bleeding."

He looked to Jin and winced. "Shit."

"Who the hell are they?" Yoongi asked.

Jungkook's expression hardened. "Not friends."

"Clearly," Jimin snapped. "Why are they targeting you?"

Before Jungkook could answer, a bullet ricocheted off the wall behind him. Everyone ducked. You didn't hesitate — grabbing Jungkook's wrist and pulling him toward the kitchen entrance.

"This way!" you shouted.

Jimin and Yoongi followed, guns drawn, covering you as you dashed behind cover, weaving through the tangle of panicked bodies and furniture. The kitchen door slammed open as you burst through, heart still thundering.

Steam. Metal. Blades. The kitchen was chaos of another kind — staff hiding or fleeing through side doors.

"Emergency exit," Jungkook barked, pointing to the far end.

Namjoon caught up, breathless. "Taehyung's with Jin. Hoseok's pinning the shooters down—buying us time."

"You all need to go," Jungkook said to you, voice low and commanding. "Now."

"Not without you," you said, gripping his jacket.

Bang.Bang.Bang. --- the sound echoes again

Jungkook turned, fired three clean shots over the crowd — warning, not kill. "Who the fuck are these guys?"

"Not locals," Namjoon replied through grit teeth. "They're targeting us."

But you caught the shift. They weren't targeting them.

They were sweeping the crowd — looking for someone.

You.

Yoongi met your eyes across the floor, blood smudged along his cheekbone. "We're leaving. Now."

"Go with them," Jungkook said quickly, already scanning for your exit path. "I'll cover."

You grabbed his arm. "You'll be okay?"

He hesitated. Just a second.

Then leaned in, mouth to your ear. "If I'm not, remember what I didn't say."

And then he was gone — lost in the smoke and gunfire, a blur of leather, steel, and shadow.

_____

You didn't sleep.

None of you did.

Back at the apartment, your knuckles were still trembling as you pressed a wet towel to the scrape along Jimin's arm. Yoongi stood at the window, staring out like the city might throw another enemy through the glass.

"No one followed us," he said, voice low. "But that wasn't random."

Jimin's jaw was clenched. "It was Taehyung."

You froze. "What?"

"I know that face, I saw that damn snake tattoo at the back of his neck." Jimin muttered, flexing his shoulder with a wince. "I couldn't place it before, but I know it now. He was there the night—" He stopped himself.

Yoongi turned. "The night your parents were killed."

Jimin nodded once.

You sat down hard.

"That doesn't mean Jungkook—" you started.

"It means he's connected," Yoongi snapped. "It means we were just at a table with the sons of the man who destroyed our lives."

"That doesn't make Jungkook like him."

"You don't know that."

"I do," you said, voice breaking slightly. "You weren't there on that balcony. He—he sees me."

Jimin's face softened just slightly. But his eyes didn't waver.

"You don't know what he's capable of when it's not you he's trying to impress."

You wrapped your arms around your knees, trying to breathe.

Yoongi knelt in front of you. "We're not telling you this to hurt you. We're telling you because we can't lose you."

"I'm not stupid," you whispered. "I know this isn't simple."

Jimin looked away. "Im sorry rae, this is just a lot right now." He says, slowly walking away into his room, shutting the door behind him.

No one spoke after that. The silence in the room was a weight.

But deep inside your chest, under the fear and the grief, was something else still burning—

His voice in your ear.

"If I'm not, remember what I didn't say."

You didn't know what was coming next.

But something had already started.

And it wasn't stopping now

eeekk chapter two! only a few more chapters to go I'm so so excited!

[jeonette]

soft love - jjk 18+

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : soft love ( koo is whipped for oc )

rating : smut, fluff, 18+

synopsis : he praises her insecurities while making love to her, he loves her so so much

oneshot —

Letting your body fall onto the soft mattress beneath you, you let your eyes close feeling your boyfriend hover above you

his soft and gentle kisses travel from your neck to the spot right behind your ear

"you're so beautiful, have I ever told you that?" he whispers into your ear, chuckling to himself

"You... tell me everyday" you barely make out a sentence, feeling his hands caressing your waist

"Hmm, you deserve to know" he whispers quickly, before letting his kisses work up your cheek, before smothering kisses all over your face

"If only you saw yourself the way I see you, you wouldn't be able to look away from yourself" he whispers, hands roaming all over you

He kisses his way down your shoulders, and stops at your waist

"Youre perfect, your body, your eyes, your lips, your everything baby" he whispers, lightly peppering kisses on your stomach

"Koo..." You whimper out, hands making its way to his hair, lightly pulling onto it, earning a soft groan to slip out from his mouth

"I hate when you look in the mirror and start comparing yourself to other girls" he's already made his way back up, hands slipping into your shirt and his mouth smashed on yours

"Wish I could make love to you everyday so you can finally see how beautiful you are" he whispers in between his kisses

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands around his neck doing the same

"You make me feel so pretty" you whisper out, both of you locking eyes with each other

"Wanna make you feel prettier everyday, my pretty girl" He coo'es

He brings his hands to intertwine with yours, pushing into you slowly

"So so pretty" "My pretty girl" "Shit you're gorgeous baby"

His mouth never leaving the sweet spot behind your ear, whispering things in between his pushes, making him smile whenever you whisper his name out loud

"Let go, l've got you" He whispers, pressing a kiss onto your lips ever so gently, as if you'd break if he pressed any harder

His name slips out your mouth one last time before the both of you practically lean onto each other, catching your breath

The both of you lay next to each other, before he takes you into his arms

"Bet you feel prettier already" he teases, causing you to playfully hit his shoulder

"I feel like the prettiest girl in the world" you whisper, kissing his cheek, earning a big smile from him

"Yeah? Guess we'd have to do this everyday for the next couple of weeks so you'd feel like the prettiest girl in the universe" he whispers, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you close

"And what happens once i do? We stop?" You tease back, feeling him smile against your shoulder

"Never baby, I'll never stop making you feel like you're the most beautiful girl in my eyes"

ugh I miss koo, comment and reblog babies 🥹

[jeonette]

living in cyberpunk - jjk 18+

paring : jungkook x reader

genre : dystopian | mafia | forbidden love au

rating : 18+ | smut | angst

“you can’t get in trouble if you haven’t gotten caught”

chapter one : the chase

"Shit! Drive faster!" your voice reaches the ears of the two other men on separate motorbikes beside you

A bullet flys past you, almost plunging through your head.

The man beside you swiftly unlocks a smoke grenade, throwing it to the back, immediately blowing up, the people chasing you crash, leaving time for all three of you to drive away.

All three of you come to a stop behind a graffiti painted alley, breathing heavily as you rip the helmet off your head.

"shit, that was fun" your friend yoongi breathes out beside you

"we almost died" your other friend jimin heaves out, resting his head against the wall cathing his breath

"that's what makes it fun" yoongi breathes out, slowly getting off of his bike

"Why is it always us" you groan out while locking your bike in place, annoyed that this is you third chase down this week. You barely have had any sleep because you quite literally worry that someone’s going to break into your house.

"Looks like the chase was worth it" Yoongi says, taking out a thumb drive from his pocket.

"Holy shit, you actually got it?" jimin lets out stepping closer

The thumbdrive was full of bank information that gaves us the access to basically get into their leader's account. In simple terms, we're rich.

"Shit yoongi you really outdid yourself" You squeal, jumping to pull him into an excited hug

"Yeah okay, less affection please" he chokes out, patting my back

"this calls for drinks, nox is right around the corner" jimin lets out, pulling you and yoongi along.

_____

Nox. The most notorious yet entertaining club in Auraxis.

You, yoongi and jimin all live in a small home in Auraxis, the city of lights, danger and empowerment.

All of you lost your parents when you were young, leaving all three of you to learn how to fend for yourselves.

Living in a city like this may seem overwhelming, but it’s dangerous, too dangerous if you're not careful. You have to be born here to be able to survive here.

Nobody here is trustable, but you were lucky enough to have been connected with jimin and yoongi ever since childhood.

Having true trustable people around you in a city like this is what makes living here worth it.

The moving lights shine at the three of you walking in, the way too loud music immediately hurting your eardrums.

"Fuck yeah we haven't been here in so long, cmon" Jimin lets out, pulling the two of you over to the bar

"What can I get you guys today?" the man behind the bar turns around, sliding a drink over to the people next to you before turning back

"I'll take a Blackout Boom. Neat."

"Just a synthspike for me"

your two friends let out, nodding at the man Infront of them

"And for the lady?"

"Give me a Deathcoil."

The man smirks, "You sure such a pretty lady can handle such a strong drink?"

He glances at you, while already making the drinks your friends asked for

"Why? Never seen a pretty lady have taste before?”you lean forward, a genuine smile plastered across your face.

The man raises his hands up in defense, simply nodding and letting out an 'okay'

"You sure you can drink that babe? The last time you ended up blacked out for a while" Jimin says in concern, you simply nod telling him you needed this after a long week.

"Alright love, whatever you want" he sighs and smiles, turning back to his phone.

Drinks are served after a short while, Jimin and yoongi could handle alcohol pretty well but you were a different story, although this time you weren't really drunk, just tipsy.

It was only you and jimin at the counter now, Yoongi found himself at the dance floor with some girl, as he usually does.

"I'm going to the bathroom" You let out, standing up from the stool when Jimin stops you.

"I'll come with you" He says firmly but you lose your hand from his grip.

"its okay, I've got it chim"

Jimin squints at you. "No funny stuff got it? You go and come straight back"

Your eyes roll, muttering an 'ive got it' before walking away.

Jimin has always been protective of you, a little too much sometimes, but that's because you knew him first, he had always been protective since you were kids. And that feeling grew and lingered. But you love him, nonetheless.

-----

Stepping out from the bathroom, you fingers once covering your nose to keep it clogged finally left.

"Fuck it smells like shit in there" you whisper to yourself, dusting your hands on your skirt, bringing your hands to the back of your skirt pocket, eyes widening when you feel it empty.

"Shit where'd my knife go"

"What's a pretty girl doing with a knife in her back pocket?"

A voice behind you makes you jump slightly, turning around to meet the only other person in the empty but loud hallway.

You don't reply him yet, though your eyes scan his features.

Dark hair. Mullet. Tattoo arm sleeve. A lip and eyebrow piercing.

He looked breathtaking, but then again, you know alot of guys in the city have the similar look. But for some reason he felt different.

"What's a pretty boy looking at a girl's ass for?" You smile

He chuckles, moving a little closer "I never intended to, was passing by to get to the other side but something else caught my eye"

The both of you never look anywhere else but in each others eyes, you felt a surge of energy through your body

"Well a girl in this city needs to carry protection with her from guys that sneak up on them… or guys that have tattoos and lip piercings" You joke, wanting to see how long this conversation lasts.

He chuckles lightly "Yeah? You gonna stab me princess?"

"Hm, only if you get caught" you breathe out

The both of you already too close to each other than you're suppposed to be. You knew if jimin saw you right now you’d get the scolding of your life

His eyes scan you for a second, wanting to say something before a guy behind him grabs his shoulder.

“There you are, what are you-" The blonde haired guy says, stopping his words when his eyes land on you.

He turns back to the man and sighs "Boss wants us back at base, car leaves in five, we need to move now"

The man with the piercing simply nods, as his friend starts to walk away.

The man turns back to stare at you for a moment, before smiling slightly

"I hope to see you around princess" He breathes out, and makes a very subtle bow gesture with his head, eyes not leaving yours. He simply turns around and walks away, before you can even say anything.

You finally let out a breath of relief, not knowing what just happened or who you just met, you make your way back to the bar. His face lingering throughout the night.

____

“The fuck you can’t do that! I clearly put down a 7” Jimin let’s out frustrated. “Only same colour and number remember?”

“Well that’s fucking stupid, 5 plus 2 equals 7 so let’s just take it as a win yeah?” Yoongi lets out, making jimin bring his palm to his forehead in defeat.

You weren’t paying attention to the card game you three were currently playing, your mind was occupied with the image of the tattooed guy back at Nox. You didn’t even know his name, and it was killing you.

“Aurelia? Earth to aurelia?” Yoongi waves his hand infront of your face, finally catching your attention

“Huh? Oh yeah— uh I don’t have a 7 or a blue” You quickly look through your cards.

“The game ended rae, what’s with you lately? Ever since we came back from Nox you’ve been acting off” Yoongi lets out, concern showing all over his face

“No! Why would you think that, I’m fine.” You sigh out, trying to cover for yourself

“Did something happen back at the bar?” Yoongi questions, they both know that you weren’t acting like this for no reason.

“No.”

“Aurelia.” Jimin drags out.

You sigh “I met this guy back at the bar, I was coming out from the bathroom and he started talking to me, but not in a creepy ‘you’re beautiful let me fuck you’ way. A genuine flirtatious way. He had the most breathtaking tattoos and a lip piercing on the bottom left of his lip, shit you should’ve seen him”

Your story trails out “I wasn’t able to get his name though, his friend came in and said that their boss wanted them back at base or something like that, but I don’t know, he’s all I’m thinking about, he just seems so different”

Jimin sighs “Rae what have I told you about engaging in conversation with random men? I know you can protect yourself but what if something happened? And ‘boss’? It sounds like he’s involved with dangerous shit Rae. You know better than that!”

He scolds you, and you knew it was coming, but you didn’t want to fight back “I’m sorry chim, normally I wouldn’t have, but he just…. I don’t know something about him.”

“Just forget about him, Auraxis is small but huge, we probably won’t ever bump into him again.” Yoongi says, his hands clearing the cards

You let out a small sigh, a pout forming on your lips. “Yeah I figured.”

____

The next day you and jimin both headed to NeuroPlay just to have abit of fun, You tried to drag Yoongi out but he wouldn’t leave his bed. Classic.

“Shit when’d you get so good at archery Rae?” Jimin laughs, his hands behind his neck in disbelief.

You giggle slightly “I’ve been practicing, looks like you owe me a blue soda”

He just chuckles “Alright alright, keep practicing I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere alright?” He says the last sentence firmly, pointing his finger at you

“Yes Mr bodyguard” you roll your eyes and fix back into your form as he leaves the archery booth

Your finger let’s go of the arrow, another ‘9’ flashes in red on the big screen above. You smile to yourself.

“Archery huh? You surprise me” A familiar voice makes you jump and turn around quickly, this time your bow and arrow up in defense.

“Woah, easy princess” The black haired boy breathes out, his hands gesturing.

Your eyes relax, your bow and arrow slowly make its way down. “You.”

You let out, it was the tattooed man from that day. What’s he doing here?

“What are you doing here?” You let out, confused

His eyebrows furrow a little at the question “it’s an arcade, what do you think I’m doing here” he lets out in a chuckle.

“Right.”

“You know I thought I’d never see you again” He says, stepping besides you to grab jimins bow and arrow, slowly aiming it for the board.

“Me either, I didn’t know we’d bump into each other again so quickly”

“Why? Sad to see me?” He glanced at you, before letting the arrow fly towards the dashboard.

Bullseye.

You look back at him from the board “Nevermind, I guess I change my mind”

He chuckles “Have you ever hit a bullseye?”

“Maybe once but it’s been too long, I don’t think it’s possible now”

“Anythings possible princess, c’mere I’ll show you” He gestures you to come closer

And you don’t even hesitate, you just go.

Once you reach his arms, he positions locks your arrow in, and makes his way behind you

“Lower your bow a little” He demands, and I do exactly as he says.

You hear him make a hmm sounds behind you, before you feel his chest against yours, his hands make its way up to your bow and arrow, positioning it himself.

Your breath hitches, you feel warm. You don’t want him to move away but he brings his hands back down

“Keep em steady, don’t think just shoot.” He says it in an almost whisper

You hesitate a little bit “Don’t overthink it princess, just go for it.” He says gently.

Two seconds after he says that you bring your arrow back and let it fly, hitting a bullseye.

Your eyes widen in shock, “oh my god!” You squeal jumping a little “I can’t believe I just did that” You turn around to face him again.

“Thank you” you let out

Hearing him chuckle “I did nothing, that was all you princess”

You smile, scanning his features “I think I deserve a name”

His hands find its way into his pockets. “Jungkook. Jeon jungkook.” One hand raises up to shake yours

“And you are?”

“Aurelia jade. You can call me Rae.” Your hand finds its way to shake his, the handshake wasn’t even a handshake, you both just held each others hands in that position, gazing into each others eyes.

“Pretty name, it suits the owner” He whispers

“What the fuck” A voice comes from behind the two of you, at the entrance of the booth. The both of you drop hands.

You stare at jimin, he looks completely dumbfounded. “I leave you alone for 10 minutes” He lets out

“Jimin! Uh, meet my friend” You quickly pull him inside.

Jungkook has a little look on his face, you can’t fully figure out what though.

Jimin scans his body “Tattoos, lip piercing…” he whispers out “WAIT! Is this the guy you’ve been talking abou-“ Jimin practically yells before you can slap your hand onto his mouth shutting him up.

“Hahahaha, what are you talking about” you giggle nervously

“Jungkook, this is jimin, he’s my brother” You let out, you didn’t really want to tell jungkook jimin was a friend of yours, and jimin was practically your brother, that’s the relationship the both of you have, so you simple said he was your brother.

“Ah I see, nice to meet you man” He extends his hand for a handshake.

Jimins eyes squint a little before accepting it, “So you’re the one making Rae go crazy” He breathes out

You mentally face palm yourself, this was so embarrassing.

“Jimin… shut up” You whisper

You see a smile on jungkooks face “Oh is that so? My apologies that was never my intention, although I will say the feeling is kind of mutual, your sister is beautiful”

He lets out, looking at you the entire time.

Jimin clicks his tongue slightly “mhm.”

“Well, it was nice to meet you jungkook, Rae we need to go home now yoongi’s hungry and he wants us to get food”

You simply nod, knowing that it wasn’t fully true. “Yeah okay, could you give us a few minutes?”

Jimin looks at you, and he squints his eyes sassily. “Yeah, you get five and if you’re not out there you don’t get the soda”

He turns back to gently smile at jungkook before walking out the booth.

Jungkook watches him walk out and turns back to you “ I don’t think your brother likes me very much” he chuckles

“I wouldn’t worry about it, he’s protective, but he’s a really sweet guy once you get to know him” You let out softly

“So…” his voice trails, as he steps closer “I made you go crazy huh?” He teases

Your eyes widen “No! I mean, jimin doesn’t know what he’s saying sometimes” You lie.

“Is that so? Seemed too true to be made up though, you sure you haven’t talked about me?” He whispers, leaving you speechless.

He chuckles “Cat got your tongue princess?”

“N-no, just ….shut up” you let out, looking away from his gaze.

He takes out his phone and holds it toward you.

“If you don’t mind… what about giving me your number? You know, so you can text me once you’re home safe.”

You slide the phone from his hand, eyeing him with a teasing smile as you type.

“You sure that’s why you want it?”

“Yeah. That’s the reason.” he says, pocketing his phone once you hand it back.

You tilt your head, grin widening.

“You give out your number to all the girls you meet for the first time?” You question

He smiles “No… just the pretty ones that carry a knife in their back pocket”

You smile, finding him amusing.

“Careful… giving your number to a girl who carries a knife might just get you in trouble.”

He’s already turning to leave but throws you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Yeah I guess, but only if you get caught. Right?”

eeeeek! my first post on tumblr this is so exciting 🥹 I hope hope u guys love it and don’t hesitate to comment what you think below, part two is coming so soon! hehehe 🤍 ( ps : I’ve been writing on insta since forever before switching to here so @jeeonks on insta if you’re curious 😉 )