#jungkook enemies to lovers

[angellesword]

It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) | JJK

At thirty-two, you thought you had your life figured out. That is until you received a call one day:

"You need to go to Gangwon Police Station now. There are two people here: One thirty-something male claiming to be your husband, and the other is a three-year-old girl claiming to be your daughter. They say they won't leave unless you, the mom of the family, pick them up."

Or alternatively,

a series of events where you fall in love with Jungkook, become a mom, solve your dead best friend's case, and wriggle out of old money's grasp, but not necessarily in this order. (Maybe all at once. Who knows?)

Genre and warnings: enemies to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining, OMG there is only one bed, forced proximity, cohabitating, enemies to friends to lovers, co-parenting, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, car accidents, law, this fic is originally written as an AOT au, but i've changed it to a JJK one, so please pardon any Japanese terms mentioned (they're not too relevant anyway) some of the characters are from aot too. i'm too lazy to change them haha

Pairing: Police Lieutenant! Jungkook x Lawyer!!Reader

Word Count: 45.5k

Spotify playlist here

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It's Friday.

Unlike others, you considered Friday just like any other day—it is a hectic time where you're deeply engrossed in reading what seemed to be an unending stack of files.

People working under you had already gone home. You allowed them to clock out an hour earlier, not hesitating to hand them your card so they could dine at whatever restaurant they liked.

Your employees deserved it after working 45 hours this week. It's the least thing you could do, though they wished you could extend the same treatment to yourself. Unfortunately, being a lawyer didn't give you the luxury to have a fun Friday night out.

You're stuck in the office, finalizing the cases you'd present before the court next week. Some might think you only needed to endure this day before fully giving yourself a break, but that's not true. Your weekend wasn't any better as you'd be spending it taking pro bono cases to help lower your taxes and prove to others that you did not fully succumb to this cruel, capitalistic world.

Speaking of capitalism, you've heard a quick but shy knock on the door. The person outside knew too well not to disturb you on a Friday night, but some things were inevitable.

"Come in," you ordered casually. Your eyes were still trained on the paper on your desk.

The door flew open as you heard your secretary's pointed heels hitting the cold tiles. Timidly, she said, "Sorry to disturb you, Attorney. We have an urgent case concerning your top client."

You hadn't heard the details of the case, yet you could already feel the veins in your head pulsating. This couldn't be any good. Your top client was the Braun-Grice family. The past months had already been too troublesome. What could those brats have done this time?

"Let me guess," you lazily highlighted the paper with red marks before staring at your secretary. "It's Gabi and Falco again, isn't it? Did they vandalize some rich man's house again?"

Your secretary wished it was that simple. She shook her head, "I'm afraid they've done worse than that." Her voice turned solemn. "The teens are involved in a car accident."

You were startled, immediately letting go of your highlighter. The boredom in your face completely disappeared as you questioned your secretary seriously. "What did they do? Let me see the file."

Mina was an obedient employee. She chose to stay in the office with you but with no intention of beating around the bush. She handed you the file immediately, "Ms. Braun called me earlier and said she and Falco need to see you now. They're in Busan Police Station."

Your hands on the file froze. Busan? What were those brats doing in your hometown? Gabi and Falco were both from Seoul. It's also still a weekday, meaning they had classes. Did they skip school to fuck around?

Mina filled in the blanks for you, "Ms. Braun is remorseful over the other line. She said she and Falco were super stressed in school, so they thought, why not try throttle therapy to ease their minds?"

You laughed derisively upon hearing that. Throttle fucking therapy, my ass. You bet it was Gabi's idea. She had always claimed to be fearless and unstoppable because she knew her family was affluent not just in Seoul but all over Korea.

"So what? Did their car crash into something? How much is the damage?" You finally opened the police report. The incident happened approximately three hours ago. Gabi could only reach your secretary after her medical check-up and giving a statement to the traffic police.

That brat! You had told her countless times to keep her useless mouth shut and wait for you to show up. Why did she never learn!?

"That's the thing. The damage isn't convertible in monetary value. Mr. Grice drove the car because Ms. Braun induced him to do so. Unfortunately, they hit two pedestrians before crashing into a tree."

Numbness crawled from your feet to your face. There was ringing in your ears, and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating when you saw the crime scene pictures.

"The victims are a married couple on their way home. Falco immediately called the police to report the incident. The paramedics came at once, but the victims were proven to be dead on arrival."

It's a miracle you could still hear Mina talk despite the nausea attempting to envelope you whole. Tears began to pool in your eyes, and before you knew it, they were already falling straight to wet the cuff of your long-sleeved shirt.

It's black.

The color of your top was black. Its design was similar to the one the dead victim was wearing. Only the color was different. Hers was white, making the blood staining her shirt so bright that it hurt your already bloodshot eyes.

White and black. She wore white because you claimed it fit her innocent personality more. Black was yours because it was as dark as your soul. The shirt was the perfect Christmas gift. Only two pairs were made by the designer. You paid a huge sum of money for these clothes.

You couldn't be mistaken.

You knew the victim all too well.

"The victims have been identified. The woman is named Sora Kang; the other is her husband, an Italian citizen named Niccolo."

That's all you need to hear before you clamp the folder shut. You stood up, "Cancel all my upcoming cases—Pro bono or not—I don't care. I'm going to Busan tonight."

"Yes, Attorney." Mina handed you two tickets. "I've already contacted someone to buy the bullet train tickets for us. It's the fastest route to Busan."

If this was any other day, you'd probably praise her for being the most reliable secretary, but this wasn't like your typical busy Friday.

You were still as busy as ever, but one thing had changed.

Sora, your childhood best friend, had died.

"I'm going to Busan alone." You tossed the keys to your house in this city to Mina, "I need you to go to my place first. There's a brown box under my bed. Pack it along with my other things—clothes and necessities. You already know that. Send it to Busan. The address is written on the lid of the brown box. I expect you to finish your job in two hours. I'll see you then."

Mina had no objections. She practically ran out of the office after you gave your orders.

Your train would leave in twenty minutes. The short time was not enough, but you forced yourself to gather your wits and temporarily bandage your broken heart.

After that, you went straight to the train station with one thing on your mind:

Clean this mess up.

***

It was quiet at the police station when you arrived. As expected, the Busan Police Division was not idle. Chief Police Kim Namjoon probably stationed his subordinates all over the city. Only Officer Park Jimin was at the front desk.

You wasted no time and showed your license to him; Jimin immediately directed you to the interrogation room where Falco and Gabi were being mentally intimidated.

As a seasoned lawyer, your head was held high as you barged inside the room, ignoring Jimin, who was anxiously coaxing you to calm down.

Of course, he'd tell you to calm down. Jimin was one of your childhood friends who had always been calm and rational. He didn't like solving things with violence, but he was smart enough to know you would not listen to him—not after you saw from the interrogation room window how the interrogator raised his fist to punch Falco. It was the typical intimidation to force a confession out of a suspect. You had encountered this scene many times, so your mind and body seemed to be on autopilot when you faced the interrogator. 

You grabbed the devices used to record Gabi and Falco's confession and broke them. At once, all proof gathered in the past hours vanished into thin air.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Gabi, Falco, and the interrogator were dumbfounded by your sudden action.

"You dare!?" The interrogator was the first one to recover from the shock. He quickly turned to you. Intense fury painted his pathetic face as he clenched his hands into tight fists.

His reaction did not faze you one bit. In fact, it only prompted you to say your piece, "Article III, Section 19 of the Constitution states that the employment of physical, psychological, or degrading tactics against a suspect to force out a confession is punishable by the law."

Reciting a provision of the law verbatim was one of your favorite hobbies to defeat opponents. It usually leaves your heart with joy and pride whenever you see their faces morphing into anger and embarrassment. However, none of those exhilarating feelings envelop you.

There was only grief and nostalgia gripping your already broken heart. It was a shame none of these harrowing emotions could be traced in your face—as expected of a ruthless lawyer.

You continued with your attack, "If I remember it right, this is your seventh year in public service, so pray tell, Police Lieutenant Jeon Jungkook, how can you not know this basic law even student police knows?"

The mockery in your voice was palpable. Only fools wouldn't realize your intention to humiliate the interrogator. Unfortunately, Jungkook didn't give you the satisfaction of winning this game.

He soon caught up with you, "I didn't realize you keep track of my position and years of service, little miss esquire."

The burning fury was still visible on Jungkook's face, but it was now mixed with disgust. Jungkook was the type of person who'd proudly wear his heart on his sleeve, especially if it meant getting a jab at you.

It worked. A bubble of anger rushed in you when Jungkook refused to say your name and used your title as a lawyer instead. It's a poor attempt to rile you up, really. He acted as if he didn't remember your name—couldn't care less to remember it. It aimed straight at your pride—his subtle mockery crushed you, but he didn't end it with just that.

"Is it part of your schemes? Knowing what your enemies do, I mean. Do you keep track of us so you can use it to fuck us up?"

Jungkook folded his arms across his chest and jutted his chin out. He was already tall, so his current stance only made him look bigger—like he could swallow you in one go.

That's what Jungkook did in the end. He chewed you out, "I wouldn't be surprised. Seeing that your greed won against your dead best friend."

It was a low blow and Jungkook knew it, but you getting hurt never deterred him from hurting you further. 

"You know, don't you?"

You could keep your face impassive all day, but you couldn't fool Jungkook. One look at you, and he already knew you had gone from Seoul to Busan in haste. It sparked Jungkook's abhorrence even more.

"You know, and you still went here for them." The sharpness and accusation tinging his tone made you and the two teens flinch. That's when you came back to the realization that you and Jungkook were not alone in this room.

This always happened. You and Jungkook seemed to lose sight of your surroundings whenever you started fighting. Seeing Falco and Gabi's worn-out faces brought you back to the cruel reality.

This wasn't like your usual bickering with Jungkook during your high school days. This time, you two were barring your fangs and claws out, full of displaced hatred and pain because Sora was dead.

It took everything in you not to cry. Your legs were turning soft like you were about to pass out any moment from now. Jungkook's red-rimmed eyes felt like the blood that was sucked out of your heart.

"You disgust me." This was Jungkook's final words before walking away, leaving you with only a loud slam of the door.

"A-Attorney..." Gabi tried calling for you until your attention was focused on them.

You did not respond to her call but stomped in her direction. Every click of your pointed heels shook Falco and Gabi's hearts. Gone was the smug look on Gabi's face that appeared every time you came to bail her out of jail.

This case was different. She couldn't make it all go away with money. Gabi looked helpless. Her lips were quivering when she tried calling out for you again, "A-Attorney, please help us—"

Slap!

Gabi's ear hurt. In her nineteen years of existence, this was the first time someone dared lay a hand on her. Gabi was baffled yet couldn't look you in the eyes. Her head remained tilted to the side, allowing you to see the tears cascading down her left cheek.

It was Falco who tried to stop you. His eyes were full-blown panic as he tried to talk some senses into you, "Attorney, don't. Please calm--"

Slap!

You laid a hand on Falco's cheek, too. Naturally, Gabi tried defending her lover by grabbing your hand. You let her grip your right hand because it wouldn't deter you from using your other hand to slap her again.

The teens were teaming up against you. When you slap Falco, Gabi will rescue him, and vice versa. All they did was grab your hand, though. They didn't dare fight back, making it easy for you to alternately slap them until your hands ached.

In the end, the two resigned to their fate and simply allowed you to numb their cheeks with pain.

But it wasn't enough.

No amount of physical pain could equal the lives they had taken because of recklessness. The same goes for you. No amount of pain would justify dereliction of duty. As of now, you were left with no choice but to continue doing your job as a lawyer. You fished a calling card from your slacks' pocket and threw it across Falco's chest.

The calling card fell on the floor. The teens did not dare pick it up or even look at it. But your following words made their bodies tremble.

"If I were you, I'd pick that up and start calling my new lawyer, as I will no longer be representing you in court."

Gabi was wise enough to bend and reluctantly pick up the card. You wanted to step on her fingers and crush them with your pointed heels. But you did not.

Seeing tears form in Gabi's eyes when she spotted the name of the new lawyer you recommended brought you more joy than stepping on her fingers.

The new lawyer was Reiner Braun. He wasn't supposed to be a lawyer in the first place. Reiner was Gabi's cousin; their family's connection made it easy for Reiner to pass the bar despite his lack of knowledge and power. Frankly speaking, Gabi knew this. She tried to argue with you, but you cut her off with another resounding slap.

"You have the audacity to still ask me?" Unadulterated anger settled at the pit of your stomach. You were so mad you ended up laughing. You balled your hands into fists and hid them behind you. It's for the better; otherwise, you would also end up in prison because of an assault. 

"Your idiocy harmed my best friend. She and her husband died while you two fuckers remain in my line of sight—alive." You emphasized the last word with so much hatred, "So don't think even for a second that I will still be representing you in court. Because if I was..." The corner of your mouth turned up as you trailed off.

You looked at Gabi and Falco from head to toe. Only the blind couldn't see the threat dancing in your eyes. "I'll make sure you won't just lose the case. You'll get the maximum penalty, and I'll leave your ten next generations in shambles."

Falco's eyelashes fluttered. Gabi, on the other hand, gripped the card as if her life depended on it. They were resigning to their fate once more.

Good, because you could only take so much in an hour. There were still many things to patch up, and so you turned to leave, following the trail of footsteps Jungkook left.

***

Jungkook thought he was going crazy.

One would think that being in service for seven years would already desensitize his heart from crimes. He supposed that, to some extent, that was true. Unfortunately, no one had prepared Jungkook for all the negative feelings welling up in his chest as he dealt with the suspects involving the death of his loved one.

Sora.

A wave of nausea hit Jungkook as the image of Sora's dead body flashed in his mind. The feeling of helplessness was the worst punch in his gut, leaving his fist aching to beat the two teens in front of him.

Falco and Gabi remained rooted in their spot. Jungkook did not know what to do with them anymore. Whenever Falco confessed his crime, Gabi would refute it by saying it was all her fault. Jungkook couldn't care less about their heroic act; he just wanted someone to pay for Sora's death, but Falco had no plans of condemning Gabi either. He looked at Jungkook with tears, saying that Gabi was innocent.

Fucking brats! Jungkook couldn't take it anymore. He raised his fist to punch Falco; unfortunately, you barged into the room and ruined everything. It's bad enough that Jungkook didn't get to beat up Falco. How dare you destroy his evidence, too!?

"Damn it!" Jungkook kicked the pebbles outside the station. He initially left the interrogation room to cool down a little, but Jimin, his comrade, stopped him from getting back inside. Apparently, you told Jimin about that bullshit called the Bill of Rights.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. Captain Yoongi called. He told me to get you out of the station as soon as possible. You're barred from participating in this investigation. Captain Yoongi is on his way now. He'll be the one interrogating the suspects."

"You can't do this to me, Jimin." Jungkook shook his head, refusing the Captain's order. "Sora's my best friend. You are her friend too! We need to avenge her!"

Jimin surely loved Sora, too, so he understood Jungkook to some extent. But he knew Captain Yoongi's decision was for the better. Jungkook was currently not in the right state of mind. He was grieving. Bloodlust was apparent in his eyes. If he wasn't careful enough, he might ruin this case.

"Go home, Jungkook." Jimin held Jungkook's shoulder firmly, "Or help Taehyung with the arrangement. He's alone and hurting, too."

Right. Jungkook's heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he thought about Taehyung. If anyone's hurting beyond repair right now, it had to be Taehyung. The latter and Sora were like inseparable twins.

Jungkook wanted to see Taehyung after interrogating Falco and Gabi—a form of consolation, if you might. Regrettably, it wasn't possible now, and it was your fault. Nothing ever went Jungkook's way when you were around.

You and Jungkook have known each other since you were kids. You were from the same street in Busan, so it was almost impossible not to see his face daily. You two were even classmates in your schooling days. In fact, you and Jungkook were pretty popular in school, but not for a good reason. 

You two made people want to pull their hair out as you took being rivals too seriously. You argued about the smallest thing, wanting to appear as the stronger one, the smarter one, and the braver one.

But the thing was, your fights with Jungkook were never serious. It was more like teenage bickering. Admittedly, the whole school knew you, Sora, Jungkook, and Taehyung as the Idiot Quartet. Sora and Taehyung played pranks on everyone and did not care much about their academic performance. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook were academic rivals who went out of your way to win against the other. It was so petty that the other students thought you were idiots.

The anger Jungkook felt for you years ago was still apparent today, but he couldn't deny that it changed into something worse.

Hatred.

He'd known you for an ambitious woman who never backed down. You weren't content with your life in Busan and thus moved to Seoul. That part was naturally acceptable. What Jungkook couldn't accept was you casting aside your friendship with Sora for money and power.

You truly exceeded his worst expectations of you. Jungkook clenched his jaw and hands, swearing that you were his enemy from today onwards.

***

Contrary to popular belief, Sora was not an idiot. She had planned not just her life but also her death. This ensured that the living wouldn't be burdened by her passing.

Admittedly, you were involved in the preparations she made. As a lawyer, Sora sought your service to make writing her will easier. It happened three years ago:

Sora recently gave birth to a baby girl named Hanni. The child had blond hair like her father. She was too cute for her own good, so you didn't understand how Sora had the heart to think about death when she had a growing little angel by her side.

It wasn't fair to leave Hanni without a mother in this world.

"This is called safeguarding my baby's future." Sora reasoned out while writing down her 'will.' Her tongue was sticking out, and her brows were pinched together, indicating that she was serious about this ordeal.

It made you sigh.

"Okay! I've finalized the distribution of my...what do you call it again? Estate?"

"Assets." You corrected her firmly. Assets were for the living, and the estate was for the dead. You refused to associate your best friend with anything related to death. It was evident by the way your lips protruded into a sulky pout. You hated having this conversation with her.

"Asset, estate, or whatever you call it. I don't really care as long as it's done. Now, come here and notarize it. I've heard I need a witness when finalizing my will. You are my witness."

"I refuse." You turned away from Sora and busied yourself, caressing Hanni's tiny fist. "Your mum is cruel, isn't she, little one?"

Sora rolled her eyes and huffed, "It's for her sake, you know. Can't you see my situation now? I'm an orphan. My parents died when I could barely say a full sentence."

Sora always felt she inherited the curse of her parents dying young. It was unfair to disregard this thought as she was sure Hanni would be the lonely one carrying the burden once it happened.

"I'm assigning legal guardians for my child. Niccolo is number one, but I can't be too complacent." Sora released a deep breath. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing that her husband was crazy in love with her. It felt like he was willing to follow her even in death.

"Hear that, Hanni? Your mum is giving you away. Say bad, mummy, bad!" You carried Hanni into your arms while glaring at Sora. You couldn't believe your best friend traveled to Seoul with her little child just to say this bullshit.

"Stop being so dramatic," Sora lost count of how many times she had rolled her eyes. "It's not like I'm giving her to a stranger."

"Huh." You wiped Hanni's drool before casting a curious look at her mom, "Who are you naming her guardian, then? Jongsuk and Ji-eun?"

"Nope." Sora sounded disappointed. "I wanted to, but you know how busy they are with their two kids."

"Jongsuk is fucking rich. I'm sure they can afford to feed one more kid." You decided to humor Sora after realizing you couldn't change her mind.

Unfortunately, Sora deflated. "You bet. They have three more children coming."

"What the fuck?" You laid Hanni back in her crib, afraid you'd drop her after Sora dropped a bomb on you. "Are you telling me Ji-eun is pregnant again? And triplets?"

Sora's grin was wide. She wiggled her brows in excitement.

You were dumbfounded. "Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with Jongsuk!?"

Didn't Ji-eun just give birth last year!? What did Jongsuk plan on doing?

"Ah, duh? Have you seen Ji-eun? If I were Jongsuk, I'd do the same."

You pondered for a second. It didn't take you long to agree with your best friend. Damn right, Ji-eun was hot. If you didn't have the unfortunate curse of liking straight men, you bet you'd be pursuing Ji-eun relentlessly. She wasn't just a pretty face. Ji-eun was tantamount to what people called 'The Man.' Perhaps even better than the phrase.

Suddenly, you understood why a certain someone was head over heels with her.

"You're thinking about Jungkook, aren't you?"

You whipped your head up and met Sora's teasing eyes. You were about to refute her absurdity, but she beat you to it.

"Don't deny it. I know your 'I'm thinking about Jungkook' face. It's so obvious! Your brows become one, and your frown couldn't be any deeper!"

"That's right," you relaxed a little. "It's cause I hate him. I can't even crack a fake smile whenever I think about his stupid face."

Your disgusted face wasn't fooling anyone, though. But Sora didn't expose you. She just riled you up, "Well, at least his stupid face is popular with girls. Did you know? Niccolo has been setting Jungkook up with his foreign friends. Ah! Right!" The spark in her eyes was blinding. 

"Jungkook has a blind date tonight. I've heard he's meeting a supermodel from Italy. She's the same—hey, hey! What are you doing!?"

Sora's eyes dilated upon seeing you gripping her baby's toy tightly. She snatched it from you and gasped, "What's gotten you so worked up? You broke Hanni's toy! This is her favorite!" And Jungkook was the one who gave the baby that toy. Sora didn't dare tell you as you might destroy it further.

You wouldn't do it, though. You actually felt guilty for letting out your inexplicable anger to the toy, "Sorry. I'd buy Hanni a new one, yeah?"

"You better!" Sora let it go and went back to drafting her will. She continued pestering you about some law jargon until your head hurt.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop now." Sora put the documents inside a brown box and handed it to you. "Here it is. My final will. I'm giving it to you for safekeeping."

"Huh," you snorted but still accepted the box. You handed Sora a similar package. "I gave you a Christmas present, and I get your will in return? Unfair."

You couldn't help but toss the brown box under your bed. You hoped there wouldn't be a time when you'd be forced to open that damn box.

Sora's eyes creased, "I'll buy you the prettiest present next time, okay?" Then she kissed your cheek, "Thanks for this lovely shirt! I love it so much."

"White suits you the most." You're like my angel, Sora. "I got mine in black so we could match."

"Cool!" Sora turned to her daughter. "You hear that, Hanni? Your Godmother wants to match with me. You need to find someone like her in the future, okay?"

Hanni giggled as if she understood her mother. It warmed your heart seeing them like this. Unfortunately, this precious moment would soon be taken away from them.

Come to think of it, everything that transpired three years ago was like a sick premonition of what would happen tonight. Wasn't it funny? Sora died wearing the clothes you'd gifted her, and now here you were, forced to open the brown box you hated with passion.

Sora prepared everything. Inside the box were her will and handwritten letters for her daughter and friends. Unsurprisingly, she didn't leave a note for Niccolo.

It's like Sora knew.

"I hate you," you whimpered lowly as you hugged Sora's letter. I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for being right. I hate you. I hate you so much, Kang Sora.

***

Since Sora was an orphan, Taehyung, as her friend, was qualified to make the arrangements for her and her husband's remains. This was also because he was the one who registered their death after Doctor Kim Seokjin announced the time of their passing.

Jungkook wanted to help Taehyung out, but Taehyung said he could handle it himself and that it would be better for Jungkook to care for Hanni instead.

Hanni was at home with her temporary babysitter. Niccolo was a chef at his restaurant, while Sora was the head manager there. They usually didn't have enough time to care for Hanni, so they hired a nighttime caregiver for their kid. Hanni attended daycare in the morning, which was one less worry for her parents.

The babysitter's shift ended a few hours ago, though. Jungkook had no choice but to rush to the Kang' residence.

Jungkook had an apology ready at the tip of his tongue and thousands of won to appease the babysitter for working overtime. He was surprised when he didn't see the cute babysitter and instead saw a temptress wearing a suit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jungkook spat as he raised his guard up. Who else could he be talking to besides you? You were the only person who could annoy him until steam came off his ears.

Weren't you just at the police station? Jungkook quickly glanced at his wristwatch. The time was 10:15pm. You arrived to wreak havoc in the interrogation room at around 9:00pm. Were you that good of a lawyer to escape Captain Yoongi's inquest in just an hour?

Looking at you, it seemed you had been here for quite some time now. Hanni happily snuggled in your arms while sucking on her milk bottle. The baby looked sleepy, unaware that her parents had already crossed the afterlife road.

Jungkook felt his heart tighten. Did you go here to use Hanni as leverage to help free those damned murderers? Thinking about your menacing schemes, Jungkook couldn't help but raise his hand to snatch Hanni away from your embrace.

"Let go of Hanni now!" Jungkook gnashed his teeth, deliberating on calling the police on you, but then he remembered he was also a police officer. Right. If he wanted to, he could arrest you for using an innocent kid to your advantage.

"Will you stop being so dramatic?" you recognized Jungkook's intention, so you rolled your eyes at his stupidity. You also laid Hanni back inside her crib but didn't do it to appease Jungkook. It was because your arms were starting to get numb from carrying her—not to mention that your chest was covered in Hanni's spilled milk, too.

Jungkook's line of sight focused on your chest, not knowing what to make out of it as you gently wipe the milk with your bare hand.

You pretended not to see him swallowing thickly and struggling to look away from you. "Relax, will you? Your tiny brain might not comprehend it, but I'm telling you now. I am not here to harm Hanni. I'm her godparent, after all—just like you."

Your busy work schedule did not allow you to see Hanni all the time, but Sora made sure to video call you whenever she had the chance. Frankly speaking, seeing your goddaughter after a tiring day calmed you down. Hanni was your sweet butterfly. You loved her to death.

"And for the record, I am not representing Gabi and Falco in court."

Your sharp tone made Jungkook stop. His intense gaze studied you. This time, your face wasn't devoid of emotions. He could see fire in your eyes—as if you were ready to burn anyone who dared oppose you.

"T-Then," Jungkook's Adam's apple bobbed, "Why'd you destroy my evidence?" It took him hours to force confessions out of those bastards. He doubted that was enough as Falco and Gabi kept protecting each other, but still...

"How are you even a police lieutenant? Did Chief Kim bump his head before promoting you?"

Jungkook was offended and wanted to argue, but you gave him no chance.

"The evidence you've gathered is inadmissible to court. It's fucking illegal, idiot. Those brats could've filed a case against you if I hadn't destroyed the evidence of your idiocy."

Simply put, you had protected Jungkook from incrimination. "What happened to the Jungkook I know? Didn't you always hate Jongsuk Lee for being a suicidal maniac?"

The Idiot Quartet was good friends with Jongsuk and Ji-eun, too. You had known them since childhood. If your group was called the Idiot Quartet, then Ji-eun, Jongsuk, and Jimin were known as the Powerhouse Trio. The three were good in academics and sports, but Jongsuk fell short of a good attitude. Jongsuk was ridiculously impatient that he would not hesitate to charge recklessly, even at the expense of his life. Jongsuk was a police officer like Jungkook. It was just that Chief Namjoon Kim assigned Jongsuk to the special operation squad.

Jongsuk was a sore spot for Jungkook as it seemed like whatever Jungkook wanted, Jongsuk had. 

Truth be told, Jungkook scoffed at the mention of Jongsuk's name. He glared at you, "I'm nothing like that suicidal maniac. Don't compare me to him." 

You shrugged and did not push it. Fighting Jungkook tonight was not worthy of your time. There was a more pressing issue to discuss.

"Anyway, I'm not involved with Gabi and Falco anymore. You can rest assured."

Jungkook didn't want to fight you either. He was tired. He only wanted to honor his dead best friend. "It's good that you didn't completely stray the wrong path."

Surprisingly, the seed of hatred Jungkook planted in his heart had been dug up at the speed of light. You see, he wasn't muddle-headed like you claimed. Jungkook got irritated by your mere presence and sharp mouth, but hating someone without apparent reason was beyond him.

Maybe he could trust you? Thinking about this, Jungkook tried to push his luck, "So, if you aren't going to be those brats' lawyer, does it mean you came here to represent Sora and Niccolo?"

You just said you did not want to fight him, but on God, was he testing your patience. It took everything in you not to mock him, "I am a defense lawyer, smart-ass. This is a criminal case; it's those brats against the general public. Sora and Niccolo must be represented by a prosecutor. I trust you know the difference between a pro—"

"I know! I get it already. Stop it." Jungkook's cheeks turned crimson when he realized his mistake. His brain must have short-circuited because of the awkwardness and the milk on your chest—damn it, there was still traces of milk in your cleavage.

Jungkook forced himself to look away, making the corner of your lips turn up. 

"It's Ji-eun." You said abruptly and without context. Jungkook looked at you, confused.

You sighed, "Ji-eun is a prosecutor, which I'm guessing you're very familiar with."

Of course, Jungkook knew precisely what Ji-eun did for a living. It was the main reason Jungkook fell in love with Ji-eun—he thought she was cool for upholding justice.

Jungkook had this illusion that he and Ji-eun complemented each other, mainly because both their line of work involved helping ordinary people. It was the complete opposite of what you do. In Jungkook's vocabulary, you were a scum—defending criminals who ruined the balance of the world.

"I called Ji-eun earlier. She agreed, but we have yet to discuss the details. The legalities of the case can be postponed for now. There's something urgent we need to address first." Jungkook recognized the seriousness in your tone. He furrowed a brow and listened to you intently.

"Sora named me as the executor of her will." Your face turned solemn, side glancing at Hanni, who was sound asleep. Your heart ached for her. "She has written notes to everyone, including us."

Jungkook watched you pick up a brown box on the floor. That's when he noticed the suitcase next to it.

Wait—Jungkook's eyes shrunk. Is that your suitcase?

His question was soon answered when you handed Sora's letter to him. Jungkook immediately tore it open, skimming through its contents.

His eyes widened comically upon reading the most ridiculous request of all times:

Sora was leaving Hanni in your and Jungkook's care.

What the fuck.

***

Taehyung felt floating as he took the way to Sora's house. It was past ten in the evening, meaning it took him hours to arrange Sora and Niccolo's funeral.

He was physically exhausted from having to go from place to place. Fortunately, he had a bit of time to rest since Sora and Niccolo's bodies were still at the mortuary. Taehyung thought he'd check up on Hanni first, then ask Jungkook to tidy the Kang' residence to make it a decent place to hold the wake. Sadly, Taehyung's plans went haywire as soon as he stepped inside the house.

"Oh, yeah? Why don't you tell that to yourself, you mama's boy!? I'm not the one who has an Oedipus complex!"

Taehyung watched as Jungkook's complexion turned red because of anger. He rolled the sleeves of his police uniform, seemingly ready to fight you.

"Well, fuck you and your mommy issues. Just admit you're jealous I have a kind mom. It's not my fault your mom only loves you whenever you achieve something that will boost her ego!"

Violence was never the answer, but you couldn't help but pick up one of Hanni's toys and throw it at Jungkook's broad chest. You screamed at him, "What the fuck is wrong with you!?" He was hitting you where it hurt.

"No, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Jungkook threw the question back at you. You were the one who pissed him off first.

Sadly, Taehyung did not care whose fault it was. He just wanted this petty fight to end, so he screamed before you or Jungkook started going at each other again.

"What the hell is happening here?" Taehyung was the type of friend who goofed around a lot, though no one could deny he was the most scary when angered. Just the sound of his voice was enough to stain your and Jungkook's back with cold sweat. Almost at once, Jungkook kept his mouth shut.

Conversely, you smiled awkwardly at Taehyung and acted oblivious, "Hi, Taehyung. Didn't see you there."

Jungkook held back a scoff at how fast you changed your annoying tone to a saccharine one. Your eyes even crinkled with fondness. Damn it. You were such a great pretender! Weren't you just acting like a dragon and breathing fire in Jungkook's direction? Taehyung saw it, too, preventing you from escaping this mess.

"How can you see me when you're busy fighting Jungkook again?" Taehyung huffed and shook his head in disappointment, "You two never changed, do you? To think of fighting in the presence of your dead best friend's kid. Have you no shame?"

As said, it was common knowledge not to anger Taehyung, yet no one warned you how scary he was when he couldn't bring himself to be angry anymore. Right now, Taehyung was just tired of your bullshit.

Remorse seeped into your heart. Truth be told, you knew where Taehyung was coming from. You and Jungkook were both adults, yet you failed to act like one. You didn't even know how your fight started. All you remembered was Jungkook vehemently opposing Sora's decision to leave Hanni to you and his care.

He thought you were undeserving of looking after a small child. You got mad, saying he had high expectations for female guardians because of his weird relationship with his mother.

Of course, it wasn't true. But you were so pissed you couldn't stop spouting nonsense. Truthfully, you could have gone forever with your insults had it not been for Taehyung's arrival.

"Don't take it seriously, Taehyung. We're just fooling around to cheer up Hanni. We thought some loud noises would divert her attention to something else." Jungkook added unhelpfully.

Taehyung pressed his lips into a thin line and looked at Hanni, who was sleeping peacefully: "...."

"Haha," You laughed in embarrassment and were forced to playfully smack Jungkook's biceps. "See? Our loudness helped Hanni sleep. Didn't Sora always sing her a goodnight song? We did it too!"

"Yes!" Jungkook gathered some files on the floor. The both of you had thrown them in the midst of fighting. The Kang' residence was a mess because of you two's silliness.

"Anyway, didn't you say the wake will be held here? Why don't you rest first? We'll take it from here. Right, Jungkook?"

Taehyung watched the two of you for a while before resigning to the guest room. He heard your whispered sighs but didn't mind as you quickly resolved it with a temporary truce.

Taehyung sighed and looked at the white ceiling. The tears he had repressed all night finally cascaded down his cheeks.

He sobbed quietly and thought about the dead, "You really have idiots as your best friends, Sora."

***

Sora and Niccolo's wake would be held for one day only. Tomorrow was the scheduled funeral, so all the departed's friends gathered at the Kang' residence for the final goodbye. You and Jungkook behaved this time—your temporary truce helped you welcome the guests without hiccups.

Ji-eun and Jongsuk arrived in the morning with their five children. It was a blessing in disguise, really. Jongsuk took care of the kids, including Hanni, while you and Ji-eun discussed the legalities of the case filed against Gabi and Falco. Captain Yoongi joined the discussion, too.

Yoongi lived in your neighborhood as well. He used to teach kids your age some self-defense tricks. He was specifically fond of Sora as she made unconventional defenses easier to execute. Looking back, you realize Sora was the glue holding the group together. There were moments you couldn't tolerate the extremity of Captain Yoongi's training, but Sora persuaded you and the others to be more patient and courageous.

"Thanks for doing this, Captain." You smiled softly at Yoongi. He merely raised a brow, drank his tea, and said, "Not a problem. This isn't a formal discussion."

The Captain didn't want to disrespect the solemnity of the wake, so he invited you and Ji-eun to talk in his office after the funeral. He only joined today's talk to say some urgent matters.

"I thought you should know beforehand that we have a strong case, mainly because the incident was captured by cameras. However, we have a formidable opponent. Annie Leonhart is defending those brats in court."

Your stomach knotted with bitterness upon hearing that. Annie Leonhart was indeed a formidable lawyer. However, you couldn't deny that your heart felt at ease when you met Ji-eun's unyielding gaze. Yes, you couldn't forget that this prosecutor never lost a case. She would do Sora justice.

It wouldn't be too difficult as long as dumb people didn't interfere. 

Jungkook. Your brain immediately thought of Jungkook as he was the only one you could associate with the word dumb.

Just like now, Jungkook was standing in the corner of the room while staring at your group dumbly—scratch that, it was obvious he had his puppy eyes focused on Ji-eun.

You rolled your eyes. Of fucking course. How could you forget that this dumbass was in love with Prosecutor Lee? Did the fact that she was already married ever stop Jungkook from pining after Ji-eun? No.

"Attorney, Captain, will you excuse me for a moment?" You gritted your teeth while your gaze was still trained on Jungkook. The two Mins did not hold you back, making it easier for you to instantly trudge over Jungkook's direction.

"Hey, loser. I wanted to quote Article 333 of the family code for you, but then I remembered Ji-eun will never commit adultery, more so if it's with your sorry ass." You smirked at Jungkook, rage still boiling within you.

You were not the only one annoyed, though. Jungkook looked at you in disbelief; his eyebrows pinched together as he huffed, "What is it this time? I'm not doing anything!"

"You're not fooling anyone here, asshole. Don't think for a moment that I don't see you looking pathetically at Mrs. Lee."

"The heck are you on?"

"That you're in love with Ji-eun? That's the only reason why you're looking in our direction." You rolled your eyes, looking smug. "Unless you had a change of heart and are now pining after Captain Yoongi—which I'm not opposed to, by the way. I'm all for gay rights. You might be too late, though. I think he's a little too in love with your Chief Police Kim."

You shook your head in pity for Jungkook. Ji-eun and Yoongi were cousins. Why did Jungkook seem to only like Mins, who were already in love with someone else?

"Will you shut up?" Jungkook's jaw ticked. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He looked panicked.

You snickered, "Oh, no. Is Jungkook-boy shy—" 

"I'm looking at you, damn it!" Jungkook seized your wrist and pulled you closer to him. From the outside's point of view, it looked like Jungkook was some gang leader bullying a helpless girl. But that's the thing. Only his looks were imposing—Jungkook's grey suit perfectly hugged his toned body. His hairstyle drastically changed since your teenage years, too. Per the police officer standard, Jungkook was now sporting an undercut that made his jaw look more chiseled. His aura was intimidating, but only you knew how gently he had pulled you close to his body.

Jungkook whispered into your ears, "I'm worried, alright? I need your help. Can you see those two women sitting by the window? They've been here since morning, and they're watching you and me—us. I don't seem to recall their faces. Sora and Niccolo were not related to them in any way either."

Jungkook had met the people around the married couple. He knew even the customers in Sora and Niccolo's restaurant. This was the first time Jungkook was seeing these women.

You were alerted, too. It was uncommon for strangers to attend the departed's wake, so these two women could either be from Falco and Gabi's side or...

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization. Unfortunately, before you could warn Jungkook, the two ladies had already noticed your gaze and immediately walked in your direction.

"Hi there. My name is Frieda, and this is my coworker, Ms. Kiyomi. We're social workers assigned by the local government to check on orphans."

"It's nice to meet you." Thankfully, you had no problems switching gears. Being a lawyer taught you to fake pleasantries despite shaking on the inside. As expected, these two women were social workers here to see Hanni's condition. Regrettably, you had failed to discuss this earlier with Jungkook.

"I know this is not the best time to visit, but we're just concerned about the little girl. Hanni, that's her name, right?" Kiyomi was an old woman who appeared strict and conservative. Her smile made your eyes twitch. "I take it you're the host of this wake. Do you mind sharing with us if Mr. Niccolo and his wife assigned a legal guardian for Hanni?"

"Legal guardians, actually." You mirrored Kiyomi's smile. "I'm the family's lawyer and Sora's childhood best friend. She has left her notarized will with me. I can send you both the hard and soft copy any time."

"That's good to hear," Frieda answered, "But right now, we want to personally meet the assigned guardians. Where is Hanni, by the way?"

"Hanni is sleeping in her room with SWAT officer Lee's children, right, babe?"

"Huh?" Jungkook asked dumbly when he felt your hand encircling his biceps. To say he was shocked by your term of endearment would be an understatement because what the fuck? Did you just call him babe?

"A little absentminded, are we?" You chuckled awkwardly and pinched Jungkook's biceps 'lovingly' Damn, was he ripped. "Forgive my fiancé, lovely ladies. He's just a bit tired after pulling an all-nighter to arrange our best friends' wake and trying to pacify little Hanni."

"Oh," Kiyomi's eyes lit up. "You're the assigned guardians, I suppose?"

"Yes, we are." You felt Jungkook stiffen when you leaned your head onto his biceps. You originally wanted to lean on his shoulder, but he was too tall. You guessed it didn't matter as long as you had skin contact with Jungkook.

Kiyomi didn't seem to be convinced, though. Her keen eyes wandered over yours and Jungkook's empty ring fingers.

"Ah!" You grabbed Jungkook's left hand and intertwined your fingers with his. "We removed our engagement rings for now. You know, Hanni's at the age where she just likes sucking onto everything. You can't have a kid swallowing a diamond, can you?"

The two women laughed at your lame joke. Meanwhile, Jungkook's face still couldn't be painted. Every part of his being urged him to push you away, but he had a hunch that would be unwise.

Jungkook looked at the two ladies before side-eyeing you. He felt like losing to a sick game, which didn't sit well with him. Jungkook hated it when you were one step ahead, so he played your game despite not knowing the rules.

He grabbed your interlaced fingers and kissed them. "Don't worry, hon. The ring is just for aesthetic purposes. I am still yours without it."

"Oh, my. What a lovely couple!" Kiyomi finally fell into your gimmick. She rubbed her chest as if what she saw warmed her heart, "It's getting late. People are coming, why don't you go and welcome them? Frieda and I are just leaving."

You calmed your beating heart before answering the old lady, "Don't you wanna see Hanni first?"

Frieda and Kiyomi fell silent and seemed to be hesitant. Hearing SWAT officer Lee's name actually scared them. They were afraid of offending Jongsuk. Kids were especially fussy when their nap was disturbed, yes?

"No need. We have already imposed too much. Why don't we schedule a meeting after the funeral?" Frieda raised her brow.

"Sounds lovely. Wait a second. We'll give you our contact information."

The two social workers finally left after exchanging contact details and a few more pleasantries. Your hand was still enveloped by Jungkook's big, warm hand. He took this as an opportunity to lightly drag you into an empty room.

"What the hell just happened there?" For someone who's confused, Jungkook sure enjoyed holding your hand. His grip tightened when you laughed mockingly.

"You called me hon—cringe, by the way—but you can't grasp what happened there? Are you for real?"

"Just answer the damn question!" Jungkook's ears were red. He swore he wasn't stupid. You were just making him appear to be like that. "And as if you're any better. Calling me babe, really? And fiancé? Who the hell wants to marry you!?"

"Let go!" You wriggled out of his grasp, yet Jungkook did not let you go. He pulled you close to him and stared at you intently.

"No." Jungkook jutted his chin. "Not unless you explain what that was all about."

Looking at Jungkook's eyes made you shudder. You knew him. He was stubborn. Seeing the determination in his eyes, you realized it was wise not to tease him any further. Jungkook was many things, but he never joked about romantic feelings. Call it old school, but he already regretted playing your game. How could he forget how much of a menace you were?

"I'm not making fun of you, alright? I had to pretend we're lovers, for Hanni's sake." You explained to Jungkook that most social workers were vicious when doing their jobs. Kiyomi was an old lady. Of course, she'd prefer to see Hanni with a loving and complete family as her guardians. She had the power to manipulate the judge's decision. You were afraid she would suggest assigning Hanni to strangers who could give her an illusion of a 'happy family.'

"So are you saying we have to pretend we're dating in front of those social workers?" Jungkook wasn't unreasonable. He was willing to hear your ridiculous idea if this meant keeping Hanni in a safe space.

"Well," you sighed in lament. "Not just in front of the social workers, unfortunately. Kiyomi and Frieda might interview anyone in our circle. It will be bad if they find out we're lying, worse, that we hate each other."

"I don't hate you, though." Jungkook's response was immediate. He creased his forehead as if not understanding what you said. "But I find you extremely annoying."

"The feeling is mutual." You exerted all your energy to wriggle out of his grasp. 

Jungkook smirked and thought of getting back at you for getting him all flustered before those social workers, "Eh? Are you getting sick of my touch already? Careful. We might have to do more than hold hands to convince people we're to be married."

"You are so..." You trailed off because of irritation. "Irrational and a hypocrite! Don't you hate faking romantic things with me?" And aren't you in love with Ji-eun?

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly; a smirk was still plastered on his lips. "I adapt fast. I can tolerate your annoying face, for Hanni's sake." 

He pinched your cheek.

You slapped his hand away and squared your shoulders. Damn you, Jungkook Jeon.

"Bring it on, then."

***

Bullshit.

Your claim against Jungkook to 'bring it on" was complete and utter bullshit. Not only was it difficult, but it was also unrealistic and close to being impossible. Truthfully, you two did not feel it at once, mainly because you were busy with the funeral and had your other friends help you with Hanni.

Now, however...

"Terni, I'm sorry," Hanni's bright eyes glistened with tears as she stared at you. She was only three, but surprisingly, she could already pronounce words clearly—except maybe the word attorney.

Sora told her daughter to call you 'Attorney' so the little one could brag to people about having a cool godmother who was a lawyer. Hanni was an intelligent child. Admittedly, you suspected she could actually pronounce the word attorney correctly. She simply preferred calling you Terni as it was cuter and perhaps because it was easier to escape your wrath.

Hanni accidentally spilled a full glass of her favorite chocolate drink on your work documents. These were all related to the cases you told your secretary to cancel when you found out Sora died. Unfortunately, your words held no weight as you still needed to take on these cases—whether you wanted to or not. Besides, your mourning period was coming to an end. Sora and Niccolo had found their resting place already. Your only worry was Hanni and your pending cases.

"It's okay, darling." The side of your upper lip twitched while you threw the files in the trash bin. You kept reminding yourself that lashing out at a three-year-old kid was unreasonable. 

'But it's not unreasonable to displace your anger to a certain police lieutenant.' The voice inside your head supplied. You smirked, feeling enlightened. Obviously, you were going to listen to the voice. Every chance you got to annoy Jungkook was gold.

"Why don't I put you in your crib first? Terni will just talk to Jungkook-boy, okay?"

Because she knew she was at fault here, Hanni nodded and let you carry her back to her room. The Kang' residence was quite big. You, Hanni, and Jungkook each had your own rooms. The master bedroom remained untouched, though. You didn't have the heart to invade the late couple's personal space. Besides, you were only temporarily residing here. This was not your house, and Hanni was not your child—you weren't even fully recognized by the court as Hanni's guardian. This could all be taken away from you sooner or later.

It was better not to get attached and keep things as they were. Taking this into consideration, you went to the kitchen to annoy Jungkook. Unfortunately, you were only able to say a few words before your face and mind blanked out. Clearly, no one prepared you on how to react seeing Jungkook buzzing around the kitchen while washing dishes—the same dishes you and Hanni used for breakfast this morning.

Jungkook wore washing gloves; soap suds painted his left cheek while pots and plates surrounded him. 

"What'd you say again?" Jungkook spared you a glance, washing the mug you used for coffee earlier.

You swallowed thickly and forced your eyes away from the dishes. You originally wanted to chastise him for slacking off and not bringing Hanni to the daycare center on time. If Hanni was at the daycare, then your files wouldn't get soaked up in a chocolate drink in the first place. You couldn't blame him now, could you? Not when he was busy cleaning the kitchen after preparing breakfast for you and Hanni.

In your defense, you did not ask him to cook for you, too. You woke up with the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs wafting inside your room. Of course, you got up to scold him for not turning on the exhaust hood.

"You're awake?" You remembered Jungkook raising a brow upon seeing you. Hanni was already sitting on her high chair; her mouth was watering because of how good her breakfast smelled. "Come on, join us for breakfast."

You swallowed the insults at the tip of your tongue as Jungkook placed two big plates and a small one on the table.

"I don't eat breakfast," you said indifferently. It was true. When you reach your office, your secretary will have a cup of macadamia-flavored coffee ready. That was the only thing you had for breakfast. It had probably been years since you'd eaten anything solid during the morning.

Jungkook seemed to misunderstand your response, though. He thought you just didn't like to eat what he cooked. He taunted you, "There's no poison here, Empress. Your lowly male concubines have tasted the food for you."

To demonstrate, Jungkook swallowed a spoonful of bacon and pancakes.

"You're mistaken. You are no concubine of mine." You sneered but took a seat to eat. "You're merely my eunuch."

Teenager Jungkook would have turned red-faced and just cussed you out, but he grew up, and those blind dates with countless supermodels had improved his confidence. Jungkook pressed his hand on the table and peered down at you. His broad chest was inches away from your face.

"Now, that would be misleading, Empress. Can a eunuch have this?" He didn't use words, merely gesturing toward himself, particularly on the lower portion of his body.

The teenager you would have turned pissed and just cussed Jungkook out, but despite maturing into an adult woman, you still couldn't handle jokes like this, causing your face to turn scarlet.

Jungkook chuckled at your reaction but didn't push you anymore. He liked pressing your buttons, though not to the point of making you uncomfortable. He was not an ass.

"Let's just eat, alright?"

Jungkook happily agreed and put some food on your plate. You merely glanced at it before playing it cool by opening up another topic, "It's your turn to send Hanni to daycare today, right? Her class is at 7am. Her teacher said she could go back to class but is welcome to extend her break."

Hanni's parents just died, after all. Besides, it wasn't a formal school. The daycare was established as a consideration for children who had working parents.

"Yes, I'll bathe her today. too, then we'll go to the center after." Jungkook smeared maple syrup on Hanni's pancakes. He had added finely cut grapes on top of it as he was afraid Hanni would choke on the circled fruit.

"Good. I'll finish some work today," you said as a form of respect.

You and Jungkook decided to co-parent Hanni and see if you could commit to it. Jungkook was assigned to take care of Hanni from Monday to Wednesday. Meanwhile, your schedule was from Thursday to Saturday. This included sending Hanni to school, feeding, bathing, and playing with her. Sunday was your only free day, as Hanni would be in the care of your friends. Captain Yoongi and Chief Namjoon said they'd bring Hanni out to play this Sunday.

It was a relief, really. You need to go back to Seoul this Sunday to finish some work and formally announce to your subordinates and clients that you will be moving to Busan for the time being. Your schedule this week was jampacked. Fortunately, Kiyomi and Frieda postponed the meeting and said they would inform you at their earliest convenience. As it turned out, those social workers weren't utterly heartless as they intended to give you and Jungkook a breather until the settlement of Sora and Niccolo's case.

Right. That was another concern of yours. You turned to Jungkook, "What time is your lunch break? I'm meeting up with Prosecutor Lee and Captain Yoongi this afternoon. Wanna join us?"

You and Jungkook played well when you were teaming up instead of being rivals. He shook his head in lament, "I can't. I have to finish some work at the station too. Just fill me in with the details later."

"Alright." You continued eating after that. Surprisingly, the breakfast with Hanni and Jungkook went well. Your morning would have been perfect hadn't been for Hanni messing up your files—which led you back to staring dumbly at Jungkook, who was still busy cleaning up the kitchen.

It was past seven in the morning. You were busy working and weren't able to track time. "Didn't you say you would send Hanni to daycare today? Why haven't you?"

"Oh." Jungkook scratched the back of his head. "I called the teacher and informed her that Hanni isn't coming today." Jungkook let Hanni walk around the house and find you. He guessed it was his fault for having too much confidence in a three-year-old kid. Of course, giving Hanni a chocolate drink wasn't a guarantee that she would be able to tell you she wasn't going to school today. Jungkook was too much of a pussy to tell you himself. He knew how you were when working. You would breathe fire at him for disturbing you.

"Why, though?" You puffed out air, "We can't keep doing this, you know? Hanni needs to socialize with other people." It wasn't that you wanted Hanni to forget her parents, but lately, Hanni had been asking where her mum and dad went. You and Jungkook hadn't discussed a healthy way to go over such a sensitive topic. Besides, you and Jungkook were working adults who needed time to do their jobs. You couldn't spend all day looking after Hanni.

"I know, but she sneezed twice this morning. It's already so cold outside. What if she catches the flu?"

"Oh, my gosh, you overprotective dumbass." You rolled your eyes at Jungkook, but the latter shrugged it off. You could call him whatever you wanted. However, he couldn't risk his goddaughter getting sick.

"I'll go to work in a while and drop by Hanni's doctor after my shift. I'll inquire about her medical records and see if we can get her a flu vaccine. Don't worry," Jungkook's eyes were thoughtful. "It's Monday, so I'll take care of everything myself. You can go to work today. I'll just text you if something comes up."

The day wasn't even halfway done, but you found yourself agreeing to Jungkook without a need for a fight. This was new, and you found it surprisingly refreshing.

"Fine." You acquiesced as the urge to blame him for your soaked files disappeared. Maybe you were wrong—maybe, just maybe, co-parenting Hanni with Jungkook wasn't as bad as you imagined.

***

Your afternoon turned out to be hectic, so the meeting with the two Mins was pushed to 3pm. Captain Yoongi invited you to a tea shop as it was quieter there.

"I personally think we have no shot in filing a murder case against those brats." Chamomile tea wasn't enough to calm you down as you looked at the crime pictures again.

Sora was sprawled on the cold ground; the pool of blood made you wanna puke. It didn't help that Ji-eun was drinking a strawberry-flavored tea.

"You're right. Given the elements of a murder, two are not present. Mens rea and actus rus," Ji-eun voiced out the legal terms. According to Captain Yoongi, Gabi and Falco gave consistent explanations during the interrogation. It was similar to what they told your secretary.

The teens did not intend to kill Sora and her husband. They were merely trying throttle therapy, which, unfortunately, went wrong.

Falco said he switched lanes to avoid crashing into a car maneuvering into a U-turn. It just happened that Sora and Niccolo were crossing the street before Falco could step on the break.

"I think that's what Jungkook did when he forced confessions from the brats. He wanted them to admit to murdering Sora and Niccolo so they could get the maximum penalty. However, I can tell it was an accident. We can only file for reckless imprudence resulting in multiple homicides." Captain Yoongi held his cup tightly, an indication that he was angry at what happened but couldn't do anything about it.

"That's my plan, but I think Annie Leonhart will reduce her clients' charges to manslaughter."

Manslaughter? Yoongi's brow creased. He wasn't a lawyer, so naturally, he couldn't immediately follow the logic behind the prosecutor's words.

You explained it to him, "It means Annie is a bitch, Captain. Based on my assumption, I bet she'll fake some medical records and say Falco took some kind of drug to help with his mental health issues." She would make it appear that Falco was unaware the drug given to him could cause hallucinations, confusion, and probably a loss of energy. "Or she'll have the clients' families pay a random person to confess tampering with Falco's car, hence the break not working. Either way, Attorney Leonhart will find a scapegoat and make it appear that what Gabi and Falco did was unintentional."

"You're so familiar with these tactics, aren't you?" Yoongi knitted his brow. In return, you tilted your head to the side as if to show a 'what can I say' attitude. The Captain was not wrong. You were also familiar with the techniques you mentioned because you were a defense lawyer.

Ji-eun wasn't bothered. She figured out the logic behind your tactics. She clasped her hands and said, "Captain Yoongi called me on the day of the incident. I've sent some people to subject Falco and Gabi to medical examinations. No need to fret. The results will show if they've taken any drugs. There were two more independent examiners, so they can't accuse us of faking the results." 

Good. Your shoulders relaxed upon hearing that. Ji-eun continued, "We must pay attention to the other excuse Annie might choose." Prosecutor Lee emphasized how affluent the Braun and Grice families were. It would be easy for them to fake 'dispute' with people, forcing them to tamper with the car Falco drove. "Captain, my cousin-in-law is good friends with this case's judge, correct? I need your help with evidence submitted before the trial. I need time to study the witnesses, too."

"Cousin-in-law?" Ji-eun said many things, but this was the only thing Yoongi grasped. The Captain was not married yet. Who could Ji-eun be referring to as her cousin-in-law?

"Chief Police Namjoon Kim." Prosecutor Lee said with a face vacant of any emotions that even the hard-to-faze Yoongi almost spit his tea. You laughed heartily. Oh, men and their poor attempt to conceal their feelings. It was hilarious when boys fell in love. They looked like idiots who seemed to forget how to navigate life.

"Namjoon is not your cousin-in-law...yet," Yoongi cleared his throat. "But yes, he will be...helping you with anything you need with the case. Just send either one of us a text or go to our house. Make sure to bring Rin when you visit."

Rin was Ji-eun and Jongsuk's eldest son and Yoongi's favorite. He spoiled that kid rotten. You adored that kid, too. Admittedly, your topic switched to the Lee kids, and you also took this time to ask Ji-eun for tips on caring for a small child.

The sun had already set by the time your meeting ended. A fond smile was still plastered on your lips long after the Ji-eun and Yoongi left, but it didn't take long for your smile to disappear once you heard your phone buzz.

Someone had sent you a message. The number wasn't saved in your contacts, but the previous messages gave you a clue about who it was.

Unknown number:

Seoul is colder now that you're not here. I miss you.

You stared at the message for some time, then sighed as if accepting defeat. You scrolled through your contacts and called the one named 'Eunuch Jungkook.'

"What can I do for you, Empress?" Jungkook answered after two rings. His tone carried some teasing, which eased your heart a little.

"Something came up. I'm going back to Seoul tonight. My secretary said she needs help—"

"Alright," Jungkook responded softly before you could finish your excuse. You did not need to explain to him. Jungkook understood your line of work. He couldn't hold it against you. Besides, it's Monday. He could care for Hanni himself. "Just text me when you'll be back. And don't you dare forget to bring back some monjayaki for me and Hanni!"

"Fine, fine." You rolled your eyes, feigning irritation. "I'll see you soon."

"Good. Take care." Jungkook had you talk to Hanni for a few minutes before hanging up. After that, you booked a car to drive you back to Seoul. This was better than a subway. After all, you need to conserve energy to talk to that one person.

You sighed. This would definitely be a long night...

***

Mina bombarded you with workloads the second you stepped foot in your office in Seoul. 

"I'm sorry, Attorney." Mina was apologetic when she handed you the documents. "You need to attend to one more hearing tomorrow." 

"Another business dispute?" You looked at your secretary in disbelief. Seriously? All the cases you have been handling these past couple of days were related to businesses dealing with trademark infringement and violating the labor code. It was a surprise that these business owners still trusted you. Admittedly, you thought most of your clients would withdraw now that you didn't have the support of the Braun and Grice families.

"Yes, your client refused to settle as they did not want to pay the amount demanded by the other party."

You scoffed. Those greedy assholes. They had the nerve to ignore the labor law but couldn't face the consequences of their actions?

"Tell my client I'm meeting them in an hour. Either that or they can go find another lawyer." You would 'persuade' them to settle out of court today as you couldn't attend tomorrow's hearing. You were in a hurry to return to Busan since it was already Sunday. Jungkook had been caring for Hanni the whole week, which made you feel guilty. Jungkook had another role he needed to fulfill aside from being Hanni's guardian. What kind of person were you if you kept on holding him back?

Besides, there was still another person you must meet today. Thankfully, you were able to convince your client to settle, although you were not proud of the method you used to persuade them. Eh. You guessed it didn't matter because you finally told Jungkook you were heading back to Busan tonight.

"Who're you texting?" The last person you met tonight was him—him, as in the one who claimed to 'miss you' but whose number was still unregistered to your phone.

"Work," you replied indifferently before switching off your phone. You will read Jungkook's message later. For now, you had to deal with this annoying bastard.

"You'll go back to Busan tonight?" He sounded unhappy. Rico Braun had always been like this—too clingy—too whiny. You'd think he was obsessed with you if you didn't know any better. But that's the thing. You were aware of what kind of guy he was. He liked having a successful woman by his side, someone he could brag to his family and friends. You fit his criteria well—a beautiful woman who worked hard for a better life. It was a bonus that the Braun family liked you for Rico, too.

"I already told you," you pushed Rico's hand that was about to encircle your waist. "I'll be staying in Busan for a while. I only went back here to finish some work and to say some things to you."

Rico's eyes sparkled in anticipation. He claimed to be wise, but he couldn't even detect the coldness in your tone. You did not want him. "I've said this before, and I'm saying this again: whatever romantic idea you have about the two of us will never manifest. I can't be your girlfriend, okay?"

Rico wanted to argue, but you cut him off.

"It's not an invitation for you to ask me to be your wife. I don't like you anymore, Rico." Sometimes, being honest was the only way to save your future self from more trouble. Rico had been bugging you since your college days. There was one time you considered dating him—thinking it was for the better—that a ruthless lawyer like you was perfect for a narcissistic boy like him.

"This is also the last time I'm meeting with you. From now on, do not bother me. Your family is not connected with me anymore, either. They probably hate me." Rico was Gabi's older brother. How this person still had the audacity to meet you after what his sibling did to your best friend was beyond you. "Are we clear on this matter?"

Rico's face was impassive, acting as if the news you dropped did not concern him. He crinkled his eyes, "Well, then. It's getting late. I can't have you take the train at this hour, right? Come. I'll drive you to Busan."

"No need." You were about to walk away, but Rico seized your wrist.

His lips twitched. "I insist. Please? For old time's sake."

There was no winning when it came to this blockhead. You relented when he promised this would be the last time he'd ask to drive you. He said he was going back to the U.S. next week, anyway.

The drive back to Busan was fortunately short. Rico drove safely and did not insist on talking while on the road. You imagined being friends with him after what happened with Sora, but you just couldn't do it.

You and Rico had a fair share of understanding each other before, though all those memories were now buried deep in your heart. You did not want anything to do with them anymore.

"Thanks for the ride." You hopped off Rico's car the second it stopped in front of the Kang' residence. You felt nauseated and couldn't help but feel guilty that someone related to Sora's murderer was here. You used to think guilt by association was nonsensical, but now you understand it was a way to ease an angry person's pain.

"You're welcome." Rico rolled down the window and smiled at you. "Have a good night."

You immediately went inside the house after that short exchange. You and Jungkook both had duplicates of the key's door, so you got inside without calling Jungkook.

It was already late, so Hanni was most likely asleep. Maybe Jungkook retired for the night, too. Thinking about this, you tiptoed inside and made sure not to make any loud noises.

However, you were shocked when you saw Jungkook standing by the floor-length window and looking outside it like some predatory bird.

"Did you promote yourself from being a lowly eunuch to an empress' royal guard?" It was meant to be a sneer, but your tone made it seem like gentle teasing.

Jungkook whipped his head and met your eyes. He was shocked to see you, too. "I'm not waiting for you." He denied vehemently. He even crossed his arms. "I just thought it was Hanni who arrived."

"Oh?" You checked your wristwatch. "It's past nine. Hanni's still not home?"

Jungkook shook his head, "Not yet. Captain Yoongi called. He said Hanni's enjoying herself too much in their home. Apparently, Chief Namjoon built a playground for her." Ji-eun and Jongsuk's children were there too. "Who drove you here? Your secretary? A friend? Your colleague?"

Jungkook saw the flashy car outside and how fast you hopped out of that vehicle. He wondered why. Was it because the driver did something to get you all flustered?

Jungkook found himself clenching his fist. It did not help that you were avoiding his question. Admittedly, you did not want Jungkook to know that Rico drove you here. Luckily, you found a way to divert the topic when you looked at him directly.

"Huh?" You squinted your eyes. You didn't catch it earlier since you were meters away from him, but now you could clearly see the bruise on his face. "Is that a black eye?"

It was Jungkook's turn to avoid your question. He looked away and kept his mouth sealed. What the hell?

"What? Are you playing deaf now? I'm asking you, asshole. Is that a black eye?" You trudged toward him and grabbed his jaw so you could examine his face. You were right. Jungkook had a black eye and a cut in his lips.

Looking at him made your temple hurt. You gritted your teeth in anger.

"What are you up to these days, huh? Did you go around fighting civilians? Aren't you in public service? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's not a big deal." Jungkook shook his head to wriggle out of your grasp. "There's a guy at the station who pissed me off."

"That's it?" Wow. He was really an idiot. "Do you go around punching people who pissed you off? What about me, then? Since you piss me off so much, should I just punch you to death?"

You pulled Jungkook to sit on the couch and grabbed the first aid kit to clean his wounds. Jungkook was not even bothered with his cuts. He just displayed them as if they were some kind of Christmas decorations.

Jungkook endured how hard you pressed the cotton swab in his face. He was like a docile kid listening to an adult talk. His posture was relaxed, though. Jungkook had his arms spread on the armrest while his legs were wide apart.

"When did this happen, anyway? Did Hanni see you like this? How did she react?" You couldn't bear seeing Hanni cry and questioning why her precious Jungkook-boy was hurt. Hanni was softhearted. How could anyone talk to her about stinky men fighting? It was disgusting.

Jungkook sighed when he realized you would not let it go. "It happened earlier, alright? Captain Yoongi and I met at the police station to discuss something before he went home with Hanni. It's his and the Chief's day off today. Ji-eun dropped by at the station, too. She came bearing bad news..."

Apparently, the one who impounded Falco's car was negligent. He let some people check the vehicle without proper documents. Now, these people were claiming to be car mechanics and that they found Falco's car to have a faulty break.

Damn it. Your premonition had come true. Jungkook was so mad he punched the negligent asshole until he was crying and shaking on the ground. Captain Yoongi saw what happened, so he stopped Jungkook by punching him in the face. He didn't want to, but he had to act 'fair' in front of other police officers. Besides, if he didn't stop Jungkook, there was a big probability that Jungkook would end up killing that negligent officer.

"Why didn't you call me?" You whispered. You couldn't bear to press the cotton swab harder on Jungkook's face after finding out what happened.

"Why?" Jungkook hmphed. " So you can stop me?"

"No." You met his eyes. "So I can punch that asshole too."

Jungkook clearly did not expect that response from you, yet he couldn't help his lips from curling up. Right. You told him before not to worry—you loved Sora so much that you wouldn't let go of those who hurt her.

"Nah," Jungkook shook his head and grabbed your hand. It was close to his lips. You could feel his hot breath on your hand. "You're just gonna hurt your hands. Empresses shouldn't fight lowly people."

Jungkook managed to make you laugh before dropping the bad news to you, "The guy is sent to the hospital and broke a few bones. Serves him right, although..." He smiled in embarrassment, "Captain Yoongi suspended me. I am jobless for a month."

What?

Before you could react, Jungkook stood up to defend himself in case you punched him, "Isn't it great? Now, you have more time to work! I can take care of Hanni the whole day. Yay?"

"Jungkook, you idiot!" You took off your shoe to throw it at him. Unfortunately, the doorbell rang.

Jungkook rushed to the door, "Hanni's here! Don't hurt me, Terni. You can't teach a three-year-old violence!"

The door opened while your shoe was flying in the air. Captain Yoongi was the first to enter the house, causing the shoe to hit his chest.

"Captain!" You and Jungkook snickered. Namjoon was behind him, carrying a sleeping Hanni in his arms. He saw what had happened to Yoongi. The Chief didn't react, though. In fact, he seemed to be holding back a chuckle.

Yoongi glared at Namjoon before throwing a daggered look at you and Jungkook. He loosened his tie and said, "Come here while I'm still asking nicely."

You seemed to teleport back to when Yoongi was training you and the other kids in martial arts. The traumatic memories prompted you to back away and wave your hand in a hurry, "Well, then. It's getting late. Jungkook, you should put Hanni to bed. Captain, Chief, it's nice to see you. Good night!"

You ran to your bedroom after that, ignoring Jungkook's incessant call to you. Captain Yoongi pulled the collar of Jungkook's shirt. He was about to teach him a lesson but backed off when he saw the bruise on his face.

"You're lucky I don't want to touch your face anymore." Yoongi pushed Jungkook and gestured for Namjoon to hand Hanni back to Jungkook. "Take back your kid. She ate all the candies at home. I'll buy more tomorrow and feed them to her next week. Good night."

Jungkook was dumbfounded as he carried Hanni into his arms. He smiled awkwardly at his bosses. "Good night, Captain. Good night, Chief."

Namjoon patted Jungkook's back before following Yoongi outside. "Good night, Jungkook."

Jungkook stood there for a few minutes before blinking back to reality. His bosses were long gone, but he still felt he was in a fever dream. 

"Huh," Jungkook muttered to himself as he made a beeline to Hanni's bedroom. "What a strange night."

Indeed, it was a strange night.

***

The strangeness of that same night didn't end instantly. At 11pm, you and Jungkook jolted awake and rushed to Hanni's room when you heard her loud wail from each of your baby monitors.

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay." You took Hanni's small frame and rubbed the back of her head. You were panting from being forcefully woken up to attending to Hanni in a matter of seconds.

Jungkook was also worried about Hanni but wasn't as disoriented as you. You guessed it was because his work forced him to deal with much more dangerous things. He assessed the situation by languidly looking at you as you pacified the child.

"Bad dream?" Jungkook caressed Hanni's hot cheek. Tears were still falling down her face. The little kid nodded and nuzzled her cheek to Jungkook's finger as if finding comfort in his soft touch.

"Can you tell us what happened, Hanni?" You continued rubbing her back and called her by her given name. You just needed to make sure she was present and that she knew you would listen to what she had to say.

"Let's sit for a while, yeah?" Sleepiness could still be traced to Jungkook's eyes. He didn't seem to have fully woken up yet, but ironically, he was aware of his surroundings.

One look at you, and Jungkook's hand had already made its way to fix the strap of your lingerie that fell on your shoulder. 

Goosebumps pricked at your skin. Jungkook's palm was unbelievably warm—it calmed your shaking body as if telling you Hanni was safe. There was no need to worry if Jungkook's attention could stray to a petty matter like the strap of your dress.

But damn it. Was this really a small matter? Your face was flushed red, and your heart felt like it was about to explode because of embarrassment. You were wearing a sexy nightgown, after all. This was your secretary's fault! Why'd she pack these clothes for you?

'No. This isn't about me.' You scolded yourself as you gently helped Hanni sit on her crib bed. You sat on the floor, and Jungkook, the attentive man he was, retrieved a blanket you could use for cover. He sat on the floor, too, gently coaxing Hanni to talk about her nightmare.

The little girl said she saw her parents in her dream. She kept calling for them, but Sora and Niccolo never looked back. The couple just walked farther away from her.

"I miss mummy and daddy," Hanni said through whiny sobs. Your heart ached for her.

You knew you hadn't given your best for this godchild of yours. Your attention was mainly focused on work and Sora's case. Could you even call yourself a guardian at this point? Hanni was a small child who needed protection without asking. Why did it take you so long to comfort her? Why did you think skipping over an important topic was okay just because you were afraid to see how she would react?

Hanni was nothing like you. She was not an adult who could understand her emotions. She was a child. She needed to feel. She needed to understand what emotions were.

"Do you like rabbits, Hanni?" You spoke with bated breaths, but your smile was wide as ever. You couldn't break down this time. Hanni needed you. 

Jungkook didn't steal your spotlight, either. He sat quietly and listened to how you would explain things to Hanni.

The child looked confused and lost, yet she nodded her head at your question, "I like rabbits. Mummy and Daddy brought me to the zoo before. There are so many of them."

A small smile cracked Hanni's lips, but her heart felt heavy as she hugged the rabbit toy in her bed.

Admittedly, you didn't know where this topic would stray at first. The rabbit toy simply caught your attention, and before you knew it, you were already using it as a euphemism for Sora and Niccolo's passing.

"Yes, sweetheart. There are so many rabbits in this world! Your mummy and daddy didn't hear your call because they're busy looking after the rabbits."

"I-I don't understand," Hanni pouted her cherry lips.

You patted her head, "Well, do you remember what it's like to be at your mummy and daddy's restaurant?"

Hanni said yes and briefly described the place and experience to be lively. She really enjoyed watching everyone enjoy eating their food.

"Your mummy and daddy are currently on a mission, Hanni. They are in a faraway place trying to feed rabbits. Your daddy cooks delicious food, right? Mummy is with him to make sure every rabbit has a full belly and a cute smile."

"Really?" Hanni's eyes glistened with astonishment. "Mummy and daddy are making sure all rabbits are happy? They're superheroes!?"

"Yes!" You laughed merrily. "Aren't your mummy and daddy great? They know you love rabbits so much that they want them to live a long and happy life."

"That's good." Hanni seemed happy initially, but she knitted her brow in confusion afterward. "But when are they coming back?"

You looked at Jungkook and signaled him to help you. Regrettably, the dumbass appeared to be deeply engrossed by your story too. He shrugged and mouthed for you to continue.

You rolled your eyes at him before grinning at Hanni, "There are many, many, many, many rabbits in the world, so it's gonna take one hundred years before you can see your mummy and daddy again."

"Hundred years?" Hanni stared at her palm and attempted to count using her fingers. She had only counted one to three before completely giving up.

"I don't know how to count to a hundred, Terni." Hanni was frustrated. Thankfully, Jungkook finally interjected the conversation. 

"Don't worry, little one. Terni and I will help you count every day, okay? We'll take care of you for one hundred years until you're reunited with your mummy and daddy."

"Really?" Hanni's fear and sadness were not in sight anymore. She raised her tiny arms enthusiastically, "Hanni's very happy. I love Terni and Jungkook-boy so much!"

You and Jungkook both squeezed to fit Hanni's embrace. The little girl was excited about the possibility of spending time with her new guardians, so you let her talk until she fell asleep.

It didn't take long as Hanni was already exhausted from overplaying at Captain Yoongi's place. You guessed this was also the reason why she had a nightmare. Kids weren't supposed to overexert energy and sleep late, so you thought this was the right time for you and Jungkook to make a new schedule for Hanni's daily activities.

The next morning, you got up early to prepare breakfast. It wasn't only Hanni's schedule that you needed to fix. Her eating habits must be taken into consideration, too. Jungkook brought Hanni to her pediatrician last week and sent you the doctor's findings and suggestions.

Sora and Niccolo used to feed Hanni anything under the sun. It didn't help that your friends, especially Captain Yoongi, were a bunch of softhearted fools who always bought sweets for the little one.

You figured you'd cut Hanni's sugar intake and feed her a full meal twice and a bottle of formulated milk at night.

Today's breakfast was a simple avocado toast and random fruits you'd found in the kitchen and threw into the blender. You were not used to doing this as your secretary took care of all your meals. Fortunately, almost everything was searchable on the internet already.

It didn't take you long to follow the recipe you found online. In fact, you even had time to make Jungkook breakfast, too. It was sort of a 'thank you meal' for handling all matters related to Hanni last week.

You thought Jungkook wasn't so bad. After all, it was hard to hate someone who was soft to kids and respectful to women. Although you knew he was like this from the beginning, the younger version of you would not appreciate it because, hey! You were a regular teenager back then. You had a phase of liking walking red flags and had the "I can fix him" attitude.

You didn't want to indulge in the past anymore, though. You thought one of the few beauties of this world was a person's metamorphosis. You were far from perfect and still had many things to improve, but you were also far from the teenager willing to sacrifice herself for a fraction of someone's affection.

However, you were still a human and craved validation. You waited for Jungkook and Hanni to wake up so they could tell you what they thought about the food you made. Unfortunately, Jungkook seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

You didn't notice it at first as he was still all smiles when he greeted you good morning. He even happily played with Hanni before placing her in her high chair. Now that you thought about it, Jungkook's mood only soured when he was checking the mailbox.

"What's wrong with you?" You couldn't help but ask. You were about to eat breakfast. Hanni's starry eyes were excitedly looking at the food you made. You didn't want to start eating while Jungkook's mood was this sour.

Jungkook was surprised that you noticed his bitter expression. He attempted to smoothen his crumpled face and said casually to you, "Nothing's wrong with me. I just find these flowers ugly."

You were so focused on Jungkook's reaction that you didn't notice the bouquet of baby breath flowers he placed on the kitchen countertop.

You winced, "Where'd you get that?"

"Outside. Someone must have left them for you." There was a small card with your name on it. Seeing the handwriting, you instantly knew who it came from.

That damn Rico sure did not know how to give up.

"Serious question, are you dating somebody?" Jungkook asked out of the blue, watching as you picked up the white flowers.

You were still wincing, "Why are you asking me this question again?"

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders to appear nonchalant. Unfortunately, he looked more like he was sulking than uncaring. "I just think it's fair for me to know. I mean, we are co-parenting Hanni. What if other people misunderstand? What if they think we have a secret baby cause we fucked around years ago? I don't want some random dude or woman punching me in the fa—"

"Okay, first of all, shut up." You cut Jungkook off. "Secondly, what the hell? You're acting weird, asshole. I'm not dating anyone. And if I am, do you really think I'll start my relationship being all dishonest? If Hanni's my child, I'd tell my partner immediately. I can't date someone who can't love me and my child. Hello? Is the world turning backward?"

"So you're single?" Jungkook disregarded your speech and only focused on one aspect. Gosh. He still hadn't changed. Jungkook would always get on your nerves. He was an idiot. 

"No. I'll kill my boyfriend if he gives me baby breaths. Seriously?" You looked at the flowers in disgust. "This looks like popcorn."

"Exactly my thoughts! It's like an impostor. Why don't you throw it away?"

You glared at Jungkook and shielded the flowers, "No way. You can't throw away things just cause they're ugly. What are you? Four?"

"I'm three!" Hanni raised her right hand and giggled. She had been watching you and Jungkook converse. She found you two amusing and thought it would be cool to be a part of it.

"Yes, darling. You're three. Still a baby—our baby." You kissed Hanni's cheeks and said to Jungkook, "I'm displaying these flowers until they wither. Now sit your ass here and eat."

"Haha, Terni. Look at Jungkook-boy." Hanni chuckled and pointed at Jungkook, "He's pouting like a silly boy!"

"I'm not pouting!" Jungkook was defensive. He pursed his lips and forced himself to sit down. He harshly took bites of his avocado toast.

"Hey, you greedy fool. Is this Empress not feeding you enough? Slow down. Geez, there's more." You pushed another slice of avocado toast in his direction.

Jungkook drank his smoothie, "This is pretty decent. I didn't know you were good at this."

Well, you didn't know either. "I'll make our breakfast from now on. We can't keep feeding Hanni random foods. We should go grocery shopping, too."

"We should," Jungkook gently wiped Hanni's mouth. The kid was eating so well. "And oh, have I told you already? Kiyomi and Frieda called last night. They said they'd be visiting on Thursday. We need to prepare."

It was good that you brought up the topic of grocery shopping. Jungkook planned to buy some ingredients to cook a hearty meal for the social workers. His mind was simple: he wanted to thank Kiyomi and Frieda for attentively ensuring Hanni was in good hands.

However, you were different from Jungkook. You agreed about the meal preparation for those social workers, but not with the same logic as him. You only agreed because you wanted Kiyomi and Frieda to think you and Jungkook could handle the basic things parents must do: prepare food for their children despite being committed to work. This would allow you to appear as the perfect guardians.

"It's settled, then. I'm taking half a day off work. We can go shopping after breakfast." You worked your ass off last week, barely having the time to sleep. This week would be less hectic. Besides, this was akin to a transition period, as you wouldn't be accepting complex cases in the meantime. You would opt for clients willing to settle their matters out-of-court. As said, your top priority was Hanni and Sora's case. You trusted your team in Seoul, especially Mina. They had minds of their own. You also disliked micro-managing your subordinates. 

Everything was falling into its right place. Jungkook thought so, too. A huge grin decorated his lips as he thought of how he'd prepare for tomorrow's visit. The first on Jungkook's list? Make sure the Kang' residence was tidy and homey—and what made a house homey if not flowers?

Jungkook smirked. Yes, he'd buy flowers and get rid of those stupid popcorn pretending to be pretty flowers. Hah!

***

The day of the social workers' visit had finally arrived. You and Jungkook woke up early to prepare. Hanni still needed to go to the daycare, so you dressed her and sent her to school. Fortunately, her class was until 4pm today, giving you and Jungkook ample time without worrying about the little one.

Jungkook stayed behind as he was occupied with cooking and decorating the house. He might have gone overboard with the decorations, but it was worth it once everything fell into place.

You were bitchy about it, though. You teased Jungkook by playfully asking if his motif for today's lunch was a memorial place. The Kang' residence was spotless, though it had flowers almost at every corner of the house.

Jungkook didn't engage with your poor attempt to fight and just stuck his tongue out at you. You could say everything you wanted, but he knew deep down you liked what he had done to the house.

He was wrong, though. You didn't just like it. You loved it. The flowers Jungkook bought were different colors of daisies—which, coincidentally, was your favorite type of flora. But you'd be damned before you admitted it. You knew how smug Jungkook could be when praised—just like now.

"I can't believe you've cooked this, Mr. Jeon. It's very delicious." Kiyomi was enjoying some nikujaga. You were the one who suggested that Jungkook cook this. The soy sauce had a slightly sweet taste, which was good to dip in the vegetables. Kids like Hanni would surely enjoy this meal.

"It's rare to see a man, more so a Police Lieutenant, cook," Kiyomi added. Jungkook blushed, relishing the compliment. Truthfully, he did not cook often since he still lived with his parents. Jungkook never really grew up in his "mama's boy" phase and still enjoyed the meals she cooked for him. In fact, the nikujaga recipe came from his mother. Jungkook informed the social workers about it and said, "Besides, I don't cook often. My fiancée does."

The social workers' attention switched to you upon hearing Jungkook. You cracked a smile and rubbed the back of Jungkook's hand.

Jungkook's fingers were long and bony, making anyone think that Jungkook could break one's neck in just a snap of his finger. It was probably true, especially with how arduous his training was at the police academy. Jungkook had wielded heavy weapons and smashed bottles on criminals' heads more than one could count.

However, looking and feeling were two different things. Surprisingly, Jungkook's hand felt soft under your touch. The protruding veins in the back of his hands pulsated a little, their light green color perfectly contrasting with his silver Versace wristwatch. 

"Cooking is the least I can do for this family, really." You spoke, watching as Jungkook's eyes drooped when he felt your fingers languidly drawing circles on the back of his palm. 

You had been cooking their meals these past few days, but that was only because Jungkook had a soft spot for Hanni. He'd indulge her sweet tooth, relenting every time Hanni requested overly sweet pancakes and candies. That wouldn't work for you. Your priority was Hanni's health. 

"I work a lot, so Jungkook mainly takes care of Hanni. I just support the two of them."

"Oh? Aren't you busy with work, too, Lieutenant?" Frieda enquired. Jungkook's lips quivered, and for a second, he looked as if he wanted to divulge why he wasn't working. You saved him from his idiocy at the last minute:

"He's currently on a one-month leave." You continued tracing circles on Jungkook's hand until your action forced the social workers to look at Jungkook's hand. They spotted a fake engagement ring. You and Jungkook bought it to make your acting more convincing. "Jungkook's initially saving his leave credits for our honeymoon, but Captain Min forced him to get some time off work. This fiancé of mine is so hardworking. Can you believe it? He hasn't filed for a leave in years!"

The key to a good lie was mixing it with the truth. Admittedly, Jungkook hadn't filed for a leave for many years now. His coworkers often teased him, saying he wouldn't find a wife to marry if he focused his time working. However, Jungkook wasn't bothered anymore. He grew tired of spending his weekends going on blind dates. The girls were all pretty and nice, but he didn't feel more for them. He was stuck in the attraction phase. It was as if something was missing. Jungkook wasn't an asshole, so he cut connections with those girls so as to not give them false hope.

There was this one girl who was head over heels for him, though. The woman even brought her parents to the station to cajole Jungkook into marrying their daughter, but the parents gave up halfway because Jungkook seemed oblivious to what they wanted. It was Jimin who told Jungkook about the parents' plan, but Jungkook doubted it. He thought the girl's parents were just being nice.

"Has he not?" Frieda wondered how often you and Jungkook see each other every week if you're both busy with work. She also started asking about your first meeting with Jungkook.

"We've known each other from a very young age. We lived in the same neighborhood and studied in the same school. Though, we only started dating after college." Jungkook lied.

You and Jungkook faked this story together. You two had to make a believable scenario to avoid suspicion. You told more lies, "Yes, as you can see, we started as rivals. Cute, isn't it? Our romantic story is similar to what you see in books."

You brought out your phone and clicked an album in your photo gallery to prove your point. There were a bunch of pictures of you and Jungkook taken in the past. You showed them to the social workers.

"Wow, you've really known each other for so long!" Kiyomi was impressed. There was a photo of a drawing competition during your elementary days. It was captured by your father using an old model camera.

It was one of the worst days of your life. Jungkook was good at drawing, so he was expected to win. He got first place while you were the second placer. Naturally, you could not accept it—especially not after Jungkook mocked you by drawing himself wearing a golden medal. On his feet was a drawing of you kowtowing at him. In a fit of rage, you kicked his shin, causing him to stumble on the ground. Jungkook did not hit you back but told the teachers and your parents about it.

Your mother held a high position in school, so it was embarrassing for her to see her daughter bully kids. She scolded you and forced you to apologize to Jungkook. You did not want to do it, so you cried and kicked your feet.

Jungkook's parents were understanding. They did not get mad at you and instead told Jungkook to apologize first. It was his fault, anyway. You would not kick him if he did not make fun of you.

Since Jungkook feared his parents, especially his mother, he was left with no choice but to mumble a reluctant sorry. His apology only became sincere when he saw your red eyes. For some reason, Jungkook hated seeing you cry, and so he took off his golden medal and let you wear it.

That was the moment your father captured through a photo: Jungkook was giving you his medal while you looked expectantly at him.

Seeing this, Frieda and Kiyomi couldn't help but feel their hearts softening. They scrolled through your phone and found more pictures of you and Jungkook. All of them were taken mainly by Sora since she used to like photography.

"I now understand why you called yourselves rivals," Frieda crinkled her eyes. She found it endearing rather than annoying, "You compete about almost everything, but I gotta say this one's the most interesting."

Frieda showed a picture of you and Jungkook outside your university. You two were wearing formal clothing while protesting. You were holding a "Be fair to all your students" placard written in red bold letters. Meanwhile, Jungkook had a placard that said, "Kim Mingyu is innocent."

"We didn't know you two were activists. I know who Kim Mingyu is. He's classmates with my younger sister Historia before. Mingyu's case was pretty controversial, wasn't it?"

Kim Mingyu was one of Jungkook's best friends, so it was natural for you to be acquainted with him as well. There were many moments when the Idiot Quartet shared meals with Mingyu. In fact, Mingyu once helped you with an academic project during your freshman year.

Everything was going well until your last semester in college. Someone tipped the school officers that a student from Room 509 was possessing illegal drugs. All students present that day were brought in for investigation. Their things were confiscated, and unfortunately, the only student who had unlawful drugs inside his bag was Mingyu.

But that's the thing. Mingyu might have been possessing the drugs, but his medical records showed no signs of being under the influence of any drugs. There was one student who tested positive in the drug test, though.

It was Mingyu's seatmate. Regrettably, this person was from an affluent family in Seoul whose connection extended to Busan. It was obvious that he planted the drugs inside Mingyu's bag so Mingyu could take the fall.

Mingyu initially tried to appeal, asking his friends and classmates for support. However, no one dared help him. The real culprit was powerful, after all. They did not want to get themselves involved in stuff like this.

It was only you and Jungkook who had the courage to protest. Even Sora and the others were hesitant. They told you not to be reckless and to find another way to help Mingyu without revealing your identity.

Looking back, you realized you didn't have any right to mock Jungkook and Jongsuk for being a so-called suicidal maniac because you were just like them. You were very passionate about upholding justice until one day:

A man in a black suit visited you. You just got home after another unfruitful day of protesting in school on behalf of Mingyu. You didn't really feel like talking to anyone that day, but the man made a promising proposal:

He told you he saw your potential and was willing to fund your law school education until you graduate. Everything would be provided by this man. Starting from your tuition fee up to your personal allowance. All he asked was that you move to Seoul as soon as possible, and...

"So that's it?" Jungkook's spiteful face was clear in your head as if the memory had happened recently—except it wasn't. This was after your conversation with that man in a suit. Heck. It didn't even take you an hour to decide.

You have already made a decision.

"I'm going to Seoul next week. I don't have time to protest anymore." You said simply. Your voice carried no hint of regret or sadness.

You were just indifferent.

Jungkook scoffed at your reaction—or the lack thereof. His heart had gone cold, and there was no trace of affection left on his soul after your temporary truce for Mingyu's sake.

"Yeah, as if I'm going to believe that. You're saying it's a coincidence that the Braun clan is sponsoring your studies, right? Hah. Sorry, but I call that bullshit." For a moment, Jungkook looked like he would spit on your face, but he didn't. He just balled his hands into fists and looked at you in contempt.

"You made a deal with that family, didn't you? You'll stop protesting in exchange for a straight path they'd dig up for you and your greediness."

Jungkook usually said the most idiotic things, but you couldn't accuse him now—not when he got everything right.

In exchange for a sure success in life, you betrayed Mingyu and Jungkook.

"I've made up my mind." You said with finality. The situation had already come to this. There was no point in sugarcoating things.

Jungkook didn't say anything, the silence burrowing into your heart and growing into two different emotions:

Yours was grief, and all Jungkook felt was bitterness. That day, you parted ways and never spoke to each other again. Sure, there were times you two were forced to be in the same room—like the day of Sora's wedding and when she gave birth to Hanni.

But even then, you barely looked at each other's directions. Somehow, you always felt like Jungkook was lying when he told you recently that he never hated you—that all there was to feel was annoyance at your devilish face.

It was untrue. After all, not even yourself was on your side. Jungkook might say he didn't hate you, but you sure did.

Wasn't it funny? You had achieved your dreams, but there were still some nights you thought you could go back in time. Maybe then, Mingyu and his family wouldn't have to be sent to the most rural part of Japan.

Mingyu wasn't sent to prison, but his life had been caged while his wings were cut off. Meanwhile, Mingyu's seatmate, who had ruined his life, was free—he went by the name Rico Braun.

***

The lunch with the social workers went well. You didn't want to be complacent, but you saw Frieda encircling  5 on her rating sheet. This number represented the highest point to rate you and Jungkook.

"Shall we open a bottle of wine for this success? It's still early to pick up Hanni. What do you think?" You asked Jungkook as you picked up the dirty plates and brought them to the sink.

Cleaning up after playing host was one of the things you hated doing. It didn't help that Jungkook was giving you the cold shoulder—or at least this was what you thought.

Jungkook hadn't spoken to you since Frieda and Kiyomi left half an hour ago. Jungkook had his lips puckered, and his brows creased together. You were familiar with this reaction well.

Either he was pensive or pissed. Knowing him, it was most likely the latter. After all, you could only take a few days of not fighting. Anything more than a week would be a goddamn miracle.

"Or we can just finish our chores in silence." You raised your shoulders slightly, taking a peek at Jungkook, who was still eerily quiet.

You heaved a sigh. Fine. You wouldn't push it.

'Or maybe you should.' The little voice inside your head made a comeback, so it was only natural to listen to the voice.

You didn't attack Jungkook at once, though. Firstly, you stood beside him and 'helped' him wash the dishes. You were the one lathering soap on the plates while he washed them with clean water.

It started subtly—you whisked soap suds in his direction until they hit his forearms.

Jungkook did not mind it and just continued washing the dishes.

You rolled your eyes before doing it again. This time, you whisked soap suds into his forearm with more force.

Jungkook did not react, prompting you to whisk more until his arm was covered with soap suds.

You were about to do it again, but Jungkook had seized your treacherous wrist.

"What?" You titled your head up and stared at him innocently.  Jungkook peered down at you and opened his mouth. For a moment, he seemed like he was going to berate you, but he stopped when he saw your lips curving into a teasing smile.

Jungkook felt like he lost his mind a little whenever he looked at your annoying face. How could this be? How could he be stressing over something related to you while you looked like you had no clue you were fucking him up?

It was not fair.

Jungkook pulled you closer to him, letting you have a whiff of his expensive cologne: sandalwood. Jungkook did not know it, but you were not doing better than him. Your weakness was men who smelled good, alright? You were just a girl, after all. You were attracted to things that screamed masculinity, and sandalwood was one of them. The musky and earthy aroma made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

As if that wasn't enough, your heart also skipped a beat when he licked his lips and pushed you slightly on the kitchen countertop, effectively caging you in his arms. 

Jungkook suddenly leaned closer and whispered to your ears.

"Why'd you keep them?" His voice dropped an octave.

"Keep what?"

It was a miracle that you could still look at him in the eyes and act all oblivious. It made Jungkook want to pull his hair out.

"You know what I'm talking about." He insisted. However, you were more stubborn than he was.

"I don't. Last time I checked, I'm a defense lawyer, not a mind reader."

No one said Jungkook had a good temper. He closed his eyes tightly, seemingly fighting the urge to snap at you—he did not. He just breathed out slowly and asked you the question as patiently as he could.

"Fine. Play dumb, but I won't accept a half-ass answer." He narrowed his eyes at you, "Why did you keep all our photos together?"

The photos were at least twenty years' worth of your life together. You were thirty-two now. Sometimes, it still fascinated you to remember that you had known Jungkook all your life.

"Don't speak nonsense about you being sentimental. We both know that's not the case because you can let go of everyone without thinking too much about it."

You scoffed at that. Hah. You knew it. Jungkook did hate you for leaving—he hated how you could throw away your bond with the people here in Busan just to make a name for yourself. Until now, Jungkook had some reservations about you. He racked his brain of why you would be keeping those photos.

It might mean nothing to you—that this was just one of your schemes to trick those social workers. But could you have found all those pictures in a few days? Not to mention that some were really old.

So why? Why did you keep them—even the ugly and blurred ones.

Jungkook was desperate for an answer, and he didn't know why. Sadly, you did not relent and even went as far as throwing back a question at him.

"What about you? Why did you fill this place with flowers? Daisies, on top of that."

It shouldn't mean anything. Heck. The question you asked was a shot in the dark. The better part of you knew it was simply a coincidence, but sometimes, your self-preservation didn't seem to work. You put meanings to things that didn't hold value for others.

"I asked you a question first." Jungkook dodged the bullet. He could be stubborn, too.

"Well, I'm not answering your question until you answer me."

"Ditto."

You glared at each other. Silence permeated the room. A few seconds later, you and Jungkook both turned away from each other as if accepting defeat without bruising your egos.

'Fine. I won't say anything.' He muttered to himself.

'Over my dead body.' You thought silently.

And with that, no questions were answered, but fear and hope entangled your and Jungkook's hearts.

***

Sora and Niccolo's case finally progressed to the highest court a month later. Justice could be achieved promptly when you know prominent people in the field.

Captain Yoongi and Chief Kim did everything they could to help you and Ji-eun win the case. Thanks to the prosecutor's ability, the jury's hearts were won.

Ji-eun managed to rebuke the faulty break allegations, arguing that even though the break was tampered with, the defendants were still guilty of negligence. Ji-eun's exact words before the judge went like this:

"Defendant Falco Grice, do you know how many seconds there are in a minute?"

"Yes. There are sixty seconds." Falco supplied.

"Then, how many hours do you spend studying every day?"

The question made Falco's eyes light up. Right! He liked answering questions regarding his studies because, according to Attorney Leonhart, his dedication to academic activities would prove how stressed he was in school, which resulted in him and Gabi trying throttle therapy.

The defendants couldn't retract their statements anymore as they had already been recorded by the traffic police and Captain Yoongi. Annie had no choice but to just turn things around.

If she couldn't minimize her clients' charges, she'd just shift the attention to hating the school and making them liable for giving unrealistic workloads to their students. This would surely earn the sympathy of students and parents.

Unfortunately, you and Ji-eun had read through this tactic, so you readied yourselves for a comeback.

"I studied a maximum of 18 hours a day, Mam Prosecutor, including eight schooling hours."

"So that means you spend 10 hours studying alone and taking special classes?"

"Yes, Mam." Falco did not know where Ji-eun was going with her questions, yet he answered them as truthfully as possible. He thought being sincere could help him win the people's hearts in court.

"You know what I find ironic?" Ji-eun quirked her brow. Disbelief was written all over her face as if this ordeal was absurd. "You study 18 hours a day because you are afraid to fail your classes, but are you telling me you can't spend a minute or two checking the condition of your car? If you're so scared of hJiming someone, then why did you use your car without checking it first? You claim to love studying, but how about studying your lessons during your driving schooling days? Did you forget everything just because you have your license now?"

"T-That's not it..." Falco trembled. Tears immediately welled up in his eyes. He looked at Annie, so the lawyer tried to object to Ji-eun's statement.

"Objection, Your Honor! Argumentative." Annie gritted her teeth. "Why are you badgering my client, Prosecutor Lee? Are you telling everyone in this honorable court that studying is not important? Why are you shaming my client for studying hard? Students are the future of our country! If there's something rotten here, isn't it the education system that gives unrealistic syllabus to students?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Ji-eun fought back. The judge gave her the signal to speak. "Why are you holding other people accountable for your client's negligence? Shouldn't we also blame those driving schools if we follow your logic? The police officers? The honorable court and judges? This is not the first time someone has been charged with negligence. It happened before and is happening now. Are you telling me we should hold the people in public service accountable since the cycle keeps repeating?"

The people inside the court were scandalized by what Ji-eun said. You smirked as you watched things unfold. Things were going according to how you and Ji-eun pictured it.

The judge overruled Annie's objection. Attorney Leonhart couldn't lower the charges to manslaughter either. The court hearing was coming to an end, but before the closing remarks of both lawyers, the judge first allowed some people to take the stand.

You were one of those people with the privilege to say a few things, mainly addressed to the judge and the jury. You and Ji-eun talked about this. At first, it was to gain more sympathy, but as you take the stand, with Hanni sleeping soundly in your arms, you suddenly become vulnerable. You felt like you were back to being your teenage self—no sense of accomplishment and powerless to defend your loved ones.

You could only offer your heart.

"I stand here today not as a lawyer nor someone who will put justice in her own hands. Rather, I stand here as a friend and as a-a..." You trailed off when you heard your voice cracking.

Perhaps Ji-eun was right. You should have prepared a written speech for this moment. However, scheming was already part of your soul. You feared you'd end up writing a speech with malicious intent. You did not want that—not for Sora. Everything you would say today would come from the bottom of your heart.

"A guardian of a three-year-old child." You swallowed the lump in your throat while looking at Hanni with gentle eyes. You focused on the baby and nuzzled her nose with your pointer finger. Hanni cooed and smiled in her sleep. The jury watched silently, feeling their heartstrings being pulled.

"An average person in Japan lives until the ripe age of eighty, but my best friend Sora Kang and her husband were unfortunately robbed forty-eight years of their lives." Your lungs hurt. They felt like they were burning. You hated this. "Defendant Falco Grice and Gabi Braun stole those forty-eight years where Sora and Niccolo could have spent caring for their daughter—the same girl I have in my arms right now."

Hanni looked more obedient when asleep. No one could resist purring seeing her chubby cheeks and pouty lips. What more if they saw her ocean-blue eyes? You told Ji-eun you would not bring Hanni to the stand while awake. You refused to let her hear about the unfortunate things her parents went through.

"Sora and Niccolo won't see their daughter attend her first prom. They won't see her grow into a loving woman who's so innocent that she wants to save all the rabbits in this world." You looked at Gabi and Falco. "And why is that? The answer is in front of you. Falco Grice and Gabi Braun, claiming to be stressed because of school, aimed to relax through that thing they called throttle therapy, but because of that, two lives were lost. Their throttle therapy made them feel the cool air hit their faces, but what about Sora and Niccolo? Air was robbed of their lungs!" Your anger was palpable. 

The jury's heart throbbed in pain.

"Falco and Gabi felt their hearts beat fast because of the excitement and adrenaline of overspeeding their car, but what about Sora and Niccolo? Their hearts were not beating fast—it's not beating at all." 

Sometimes, you lay in tears in bed at night, wondering if your best friend and her husband died immediately—at least then, they wouldn't feel the agonizing thought of leaving their small child while feeling every bone in their body ache.

Your speech continued for a few more minutes before you ended with, "Attorney Leonhart said it herself: the youth is the hope of this country, so honorable jury, and judge, I implore you to think about your decisions carefully. A three-year-old in my arms could grow up with hope or a bad image of the world where injustice is fostered. In the end, the choice is yours."

Silence enveloped the courtroom. You went back beside Jungkook, who wrapped his arms around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. Hanni was passed to Taehyung for a while. The poor boy needed someone to hold, too.

A while later, the decision was made. You, Jungkook, and the others listened in anticipation as the jury's foreperson announced the verdict.

Both Falco and Gabbi were found guilty of reckless imprudence, resulting in multiple homicides. As the driver, Falco got seven years in prison and was ordered to pay ten million won. Meanwhile, Gabi needed to serve two years in prison for influencing Falco and was ordered to pay five million won. Both their cases were nonbailable.

"So ordered!" Your squared shoulders slumped when you heard this, followed by the absolute sound of the gavel. Jungkook visibly relaxed beside you, too. He squeezed your shoulder once before rubbing it and kissing your temple.

It was a surreal moment. The warmth of his lips made your body soft. You leaned to him and buried your face to his chest. Jungkook caressed your hair, not minding at all that his suit was stained by your tears.

They were happy tears. Finally, justice was served.

***

The end of the month not only concluded Sora's case but also marked the end of Jungkook's suspension at work.

It was a relief, really. Jungkook staying at home might be helpful since you didn't have to hire a babysitter anymore, but goddamn, did it not make your life easier. In fact, it made you feel like you were living in hell.

Hell was said to be hot, which you felt precisely every morning. One thing you learned about Jungkook was that he couldn't go on his day without working out. Jungkook recently found the convenience of exercising at home, which turned out to be the start of your life in hell.

Every morning, he'd go to the house's garden to do some pull-ups, planks, squats, and other workout moves. There didn't seem to be any problem with this, right?

Wrong.

Jungkook's workout routine distracted you from working. Unfortunately, your temporary office was at the Kang' residence, too. You made the mistake of putting your table near the floor-length window where you'd have a clear view of the garden. Your intention in doing so was to calm your tense mind by looking at the greeneries. But instead, what you saw was Jungkook grunting; his lips puckered as sweat rolled down his body.

You willed yourself to ignore him, but your clients did not make doing so easy. Admittedly, most of your clients would space out during the consultation as they were busy salivating over Jungkook working out. Sometimes, you'd be forced to draw on the curtains, but this was proven inefficient since your office would be so dark that you couldn't read the files on your table.

Thankfully, the worst had come to an end. Jungkook's going back to work. Conversely, you did not open your office today, saving you the mouth-drying experience of seeing Jungkook exercise.

However, fate refused to be on your side while the heavens liked seeing your knees turn into jellies. You didn't see Jungkook during his workout session, but you saw him post-workout.

You had just woken up and were feeling a bit thirsty, so you went to the kitchen without regard to your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and gunk stuck in your eyes, causing you to rub it off.

You yawned while waiting for your water to boil. Unexpectedly, Jungkook emerged in front of you.

"Mornin." He flashed a lazy smile at you. His slightly out-of-breath tone from working out all morning snapped you out of your sleep-like trance.

"Damn it." You were almost burnt by the water. Jungkook's eyes widened, immediately pulling your hand away from the kettle.

"What's up, sleepyhead?" Jungkook teased before blowing hot air on your slightly red hands. "Water's overflowing. Did you forget how to use a kettle, hm?"

You had filled the kettle with water beyond the maximum point. Not to mention that you had also switched on the fire to the highest temperature.

You couldn't argue with Jungkook. This was indeed your fault. You were careless.

"Sorry," you tried to make your voice as flat as possible while subtly wriggling out of his grasp. Jungkook noticed your avoidance, so he let you go at once.

Right. He was all sweaty. Of course, you'd be disgusted by his touch. However, this was far from the truth. You were simply caught off guard by his presence and how he looked.

Jungkook was wearing a black compression shirt and baggy grey training pants. His usual silver wristwatch was replaced by a smartwatch.

He looked...hot. You couldn't deny this, and for some reason, your temples throbbed, giving you an illusion that someone's soft lips were caressing it.

Fuck.

You should definitely check your period tracker. You were probably ovulating a little earlier this month.

You weren't the only one having dilemmas with your body. Jungkook watched as you clumsily poured yourself water and drank it. You looked disoriented, and that shouldn't be a good sign. But oddly enough, Jungkook liked seeing you like this—your guard was not up, and you were uncaring about how you looked.

You're just being you.

Jungkook was unaware that his smartwatch had detected his heartbeat. It flashed red warning lights, indicating that his heartbeat was abnormally fast.

Jungkook cleared his throat. You looked at him.

"I'm going back to work today. Thanks for making breakfast for me these few weeks, but you don't have to anymore. Captain Yoongi always brings us food."

Jungkook was seriously grateful for your efforts. Besides, your food was very savory. Jungkook just didn't want to burden you further. You barely had time for yourself since you were busy attending to Hanni and your work.

Frankly, Jungkook did not expect you to be this caring. He guessed he had this notion of you pouring your efforts just for money and power. He was not proud of this, alright?

"Oh," you blinked, "But I've already prepared your breakfast last night." You made some veggie-packed breakfast sandwiches and overnight oats. Actually, you asked Jungkook's mother for some breakfast recipes. She gladly talked to you over the phone but said she'd love to see you in person, too. The Jeon residence had a huge garden where you could pick up fruits and vegetables. That would be fun.

"I'm not going to cook tonight, though. Taehyung invited us to dinner." Your friend made a reservation in a fancy restaurant to mark the win of Sora and Niccolo's case. Taehyung wanted to thank everyone, especially you and Ji-eun, for pushing through.

"Oh, right. It's tonight." Jungkook asked how the three of you would go to the restaurant. You told him you had business near the police station later, so you could drop by there. Afterward, you and Jungkook could pick up Hanni from the daycare before driving to the restaurant.

Jungkook agreed with your plan. After that, your day had been pretty much the same. Thankfully, your client for today was easy to talk to and just agreed to whatever you suggested. He said you were the expert, not him. As a result, your meeting with the client ended thirty minutes earlier. You thought it was a waste to drive back home, so you just went to the police station to hang out.

Everyone was having a feast. Apparently, a good citizen brought food for the police officers as a 'thank you' for saving her life. It was a woman in her early thirties. You heard people calling her Pieck. She had a soft smile on her lips as she urged the officers to eat.

Jungkook saw you the moment you stepped foot inside the station. Unfortunately, he couldn't attend to you as he was the star of this joyous event. You simply waved at him and mouthed, "I can wait."

Jungkook smiled and nodded before turning his attention to Pieck and his comrades.

You watched them for a while, feeling your chest wJiming at the thought of people praising Jungkook. He deserved it. You hadn't met anyone aside from Jongsuk Lee, who was as passionate about freeing people from the hands of criminals.

Your soft heart even turned softer when an older woman stood beside you and told you to eat some food. She introduced herself as the mother of Pieck Finger. 

"Lieutenant Jeon is indeed a hero," You couldn't say no when Mrs. Finger shoved desserts in your hands. You ate them. "You know him, don't you? He saved my Pieck from a group of drunkards trying to assault her."

The incident happened just a few days before Sora's accident. Pieck didn't have the opportunity to express her gratitude to Jungkook because the first time they went to visit the police station, Pieck's parents overwhelmed Jungkook with the intention of marrying off their daughter to him.

Pieck's parents wanted Jungkook to be their son-in-law, someone who wasn't armed but wouldn't hesitate to fight a group of evil men. Mrs. Finger told you that Jungkook was in a bar that night. He was off-duty, so he didn't bother bringing his gun. Jungkook just used beer bottles to smash the heads of the pricks who dared lay a hand on Pieck.

Sadly, Pieck didn't get away unscathed. The men had broken her leg even before Jungkook came to save her. Actually, Pieck was wearing a leg cast until now. She still had a week to go before completely removing it.

Pieck had a hard time standing and walking. Jungkook wasn't heartless to watch her struggle, so he held her shoulders and guided her while handing food to the officers.

You and Mrs. Finger watched them. The latter snuck a glance at you, her lips curving into a smirk.

"Don't you think Lieutenant Jeon and my daughter look good together?"

Oh? 

You didn't switch your gaze at the old woman and instead remained watching Jungkook and Pieck. You tried to picture them together, but you just couldn't do so.

"I don't think so," you replied to Mrs. Finger truthfully. She scoffed and furrowed her brows. She looked like she aged 10 more years after hearing your blatant disrespect.

You shrugged off your shoulders and casually showed her your right hand adorned with an engagement ring. "I think Lieutenant Jeon and I look better together."

If you thought Mrs. Finger would backtrack her statement just because you and Jungkook were 'engaged,' then you were wrong.

She eyed you from head to toe before looking at her precious daughter. You were nothingcompared to Pieck.

"My daughter is a teacher." Mrs. Finger crossed her arms, "She knows how to take care of a small child, so it won't be hard for her to be the perfect wife for Lieutenant Jeon. Unlike you..." She looked at the way you dressed. Too classy. You seemed high-maintenance. It would be a waste if Jungkook used his salary coming from the people's taxes to support you.

"You're still a woman, so I think you won't have a hard time looking for a husband, but you and Lieutenant Jeon don't match. Just Look at him..." Mrs. Finger urged you to look at Jungkook and Pieck. "Look at the way he treats my daughter. He thinks she's a delicate flower."

Her description made you cackle. You couldn't help it. This old woman was both funny and pathetic.

"Genuine question: do you think Jungkook 'perfectly' matches your daughter just because he treats her like a human being?"

Your concerned face didn't look fake. But instead of finding it endearing, Mrs. Finger thought you were mocking her.

"And what do you mean by that?" Mrs. Finger got all defensive.

You heaved a sigh, "I just think it's sad that you are forcing an already committed man to your gorgeous daughter." You were telling the truth. Pieck was a catch. "And you're doing all this just because he treats her kindly. It makes me wonder what kind of men you and your daughter surround yourselves with—seeing that you become all desperate for the bare minimum."

"You—!!" Mrs. Finger was speechless. Her face was red because of humiliation.

You were not trying to embarrass her, though. You pitied her. Admittedly, if what you and Jungkook had was real, you didn't think you'd be jealous of how he treated Pieck. You were actually going to question his behavior if he wasn't treating her like this.

You didn't want to date a man who was only good to you.

"You said your daughter is a teacher, right? I hope she doesn't teach kids that something normal must be rewarded with God-like treatment. Because if that's the case, your standards in people, especially men, are on the floor."

Mrs. Finger was about to say something, but she saw Jungkook jogging in your direction.

"Hey," Jungkook greeted you, a sweet smile was plastered on his lips. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Are you ready to go?"

"Mn. Mrs. Finger and I were just idly chatting," 

Jungkook was so focused on you that he didn't notice the old woman beside you. He bowed at her, thanking her for helping Pieck cook the food for today.

"But you barely ate, Lieutenant." Mrs. Finger subtly complained. Her brows were knitted together. She hadn't calmed down from her rage yet. She wished she could pull your hair for being too arrogant.

"Ah, sorry," Jungkook smiled sheepishly. "I've eaten a lot earlier at lunch. My fiancée packed me a bento box. You've met her, right?"

Jungkook introduced you and Mrs. Finger more formally this time. The old man was forced to shake your hands before bidding you goodbye.

"We have to go. We'll see you later, Mrs. Finger." Jungkook's hand snaked above your waist but below your breast. This hold was way more intimate than handholding or grabbing someone's shoulder to help them walk.

Mrs. Finger gritted her teeth and glared, resenting you for naturally getting this treatment from Jungkook.

You just smirked at her and walked away.

"By the way, shithead," you called Jungkook when you two were out of the station.

"What?" Jungkook was carried away from pretending. He'd been bragging about you to his comrades and Pieck all afternoon.

"I didn't make your bento for lunch. I just bought it." You did not have time to cook it yourself.

Jungkook stopped walking. You thought he'd mock you, but he shrugged nonchalantly and said, "Doesn't matter. You still thought of me when you bought it."

Now, it was your turn to be stunned. You furrowed your brow at Jungkook, wanting to ask what he meant, but were afraid of hearing the answer.

Like usual, you let it go, refusing to hear it from him.

There was another chance for the truth—just not today.

***

Dinner with Taehyung and the others went well. You continued pretending to have a romantic relationship with Jungkook in front of them. Admittedly, telling them and acting weren't that difficult. You still remember how they reacted when you told them about you and Jungkook a month ago.

The conversation with Yoongi and Namjoon went like this:

"Chief, Captain, I am getting married with her." Jungkook intertwined your fingers together. You'd like to think you were a good actress, so you did not understand why the news did not shock the two men. 

Namjoon merely raised his brow and said, "Is this your way of asking us to sponsor your wedding?" The chief thought it would be possible. Jungkook was one of his own. He and Yoongi started saving money for their boys when Jongsuk got married.

"No, no. I mean..." Jungkook scratched the back of his head. His plan didn't go as far as asking his bosses to sponsor his fake wedding. "I just wanna tell you that I'm engaged. You know, just in case someone asks you. We've been together for a while now."

"We know." Namjoon was confused. He looked at Yoongi, who was busy drinking tea. The captain didn't look bothered. "Yoongi, didn’t you tell me before that these two are dating?"

"Huh?" You and Jungkook were perplexed. Did Yoongi come from an alternate universe? Or did he hit his head? Because there was no way either you or Jungkook told Yoongi you were dating.

"Aren't you brats dating since you were 10 years old? The other kids complained about you two flirting during missions." Yoongi said in a flat tone.

You and Jungkook looked at each other. With tacit understanding, you decided not to refute the captain's belief. After all, the sole purpose of this conversation was to make them believe you and Jungkook had a thing. Oh well.

The second person you and Jungkook talked to was Ji-eun. Unlike Yoongi and Namjoon, prosecutor Lee was not easy to fool.

"You're pretending to be dating to get Hanni under your custody, right?" Not just that. She even exposed your lies. As expected of a great lawyer.

You looked at Ji-eun proudly, "So...? Can we trust you to keep this to yourself?"

"Of course." Ji-eun did not hesitate. "You have the attorney-client privilege."

With that, your conversation with Ji-eun ended. You also asked her to relay the news to Jongsuk and Jimin to save time. You and Jungkook were conserving your energy because you thought explaining your situation to Taehyung would be difficult.

Taehyung, your dumbass of a friend.

To your surprise, you didn't have to waste your brain cells trying to make sense of the setup you had with Jungkook. All Taehyung needed to hear was the word marry and he was already pulling you and Jungkook to Sora's grave.

You asked Taehyung why.

"Are you kidding? I owe Sora 3,000 won now. We've made a bet before. She told me you and Jungkook would be engaged in your early thirties. I guess it's my fault for thinking you're gonna drag it until you're in your forties. But you can't blame a guy, can you? You're both stubborn."

With the lies perfectly set, pretending came easy. No one batted an eye with how 'lovey-dovey' you and Jungkook were. The dinner was fun, though the children made it a little chaotic. You did not mind since you were learning to live in the presence of screaming children. Honestly, you admired Ji-eun for keeping a straight face while her kids go crazy. She was pretty chill. Jongsuk was the one tasked to calm the kids.

Speaking of kids, you were worried after talking to Hanni's teacher. She said the daycare had arranged a family trip for their students. You and Jungkook had to accompany Hanni to this event. From what you heard, the parents and their kids needed matching costumes. There would be games that would teach the little ones the importance of family values.

Fortunately, the event fell on the weekend, so you and Jungkook did not have to worry about work. These past weeks, you were learning to take things slow and enjoy life's little moments. You had to remind yourself that you were not running out of time. You did not have to constantly take on many cases to prove to everyone that you were a good lawyer.

"Don't stress yourself too much with our costume, okay? I already have it figured out." Jungkook assured you one evening. The trip was tomorrow. How could you not overthink? You still hadn't seen the costume in person.

"Would you just tell me what you bought for us? I don't trust you."

"Why not?" Jungkook was sulking. "I've thought about it carefully."

"You don't know my size, dumbass." You were going to kill him if he bought something inappropriate or too small for you.

Jungkook's lips curved up. He looked at you from head to toe and said, "Nah. I got it right."

Your knee-jerk reaction was to cover your chest. Jungkook scoffed and told you he was not a pervert.

You didn't care about what he said, especially when the day of the trip finally came. Hanni's teacher came bearing bad news. You thought you had lost your mind when she told you that you, Jungkook, and Hanni were staying in the same room and bed.

This setup was supposed to make the children feel closer to their parents. After all, not everyone had the luxury of spending time with their kids—daycare was even established because the parents were too busy to look after their children.

Hanni was delighted to be spending the night with you and Jungkook. Unfortunately, she recognized the deep frown on your face. She knew you were not happy about this.

"Terni, don't you want to sleep with me and Jungkook-boy?" Hanni's mood plummeted, making your heart drop. You didn't want to hurt her feelings.

"Of course not, sweetheart. It’s just that..." You tongued the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say. "Jungkook-boy and I can't sleep in the same bed."

"Why not?" Hanni folded her little arms across her chest. You did not speak, so she turned to Jungkook. Sadly, Jungkook wasn't sure what to say either. He was as surprised as you were. He just scratched the back of his neck—this was one of his bad habits every time he was lost.

You sighed, knowing you had to explain things yourself.

"Because Jungkook-boy and I aren't like your mummy and daddy."

"You're not!?" Hanni was shocked. She wrinkled her forehead. "But you said you'll take care of me for a hundred years! Isn't that the job of a mummy and daddy?"

You were running out of excuses. Besides, you couldn't tell Hanni the whole thing. Frieda and Kiyomi were not yet done with their deliberations. You couldn't expose yourselves early on.

"I'll just sleep on the floor," Jungkook said sheepishly. Frankly speaking, he was embarrassed. He was the one who attended the meeting regarding this trip. Jungkook knew you two would stay in the same room, but in his defense, he thought there were two separate beds. Jungkook would disagree if he had known there was only one bed. He would not take advantage of you like that. He wouldn't do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, either.

"Or I'll just book another room. Don't worry about it." Jungkook stood up and gathered his things. He was halfway through the door when you stopped him.

"You can stay," you swallowed thickly. Jungkook's eyes lit up, but he still did not know what to say. "No need to book another room. The teacher and the other parents might get the wrong idea. We can't show them we're not happy we're staying together."

"Then I'll just sleep on the floor." Jungkook offered genuinely. He wasn't trying to sound like a sad boy, yet that was the vibe Hanni got from him.

Hanni's little shoulders sagged, "But Jungkook-boy, the floor will hurt your back!" For a three-year-old, Hanni sure knew a lot. You guessed this happened when your mom was Sora Kang—the girl who loved potatoes so much but was willing to break them in half and give them to a random stranger with a growling stomach.

"We can sleep in the same bed, alright?" You rolled your eyes to hide your nervousness, "This sounds awful, but Hanni will 'sort of' be our divider. She sleeps in the middle. I will kick your ass if you snore."

Jungkook nodded his head obediently. He was happy he wouldn't have to deal with a stiff neck and a sore back.

"And shower first! I don't like stinky men in my bed!"

Jungkook and Hanni followed your instructions before getting into bed. Both of them realized how much of a clean freak you were. However, you still find sleeping hard despite adhering to all pre-sleeping routines.

You glanced at the wall clock. It was past one in the morning already. Jungkook and Hanni were sound asleep beside you.

You don't usually find it difficult to sleep in a new place. In fact, you were used to it since your job required you to meet your clients all over Japan. The hotel room the daycare had booked for tonight was pretty decent, too.

The air conditioner worked well, and the duvet was clean and soft.

Damn it. You slightly tossed and turned, desperately looking for the perfect sleeping position. In the end, nothing worked.

It was quarter to three in the morning. You released a defeated sigh, resigning to insomnia, and were just about to play with your phone when Jungkook suddenly spoke.

"Can't sleep?"

Goosebumps pricked at your skin because of how raspy his voice was. You turned to face him, about to apologize because you thought you'd accidentally woken him up by tossing and turning. However, you were shocked when he handed you the only pillow he was using.

"What's this?" You asked dumbly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes lazily. "Oh, come on. You know it's a pillow. Just accept it, alright? We both know you can't fall asleep with just one pillow."

Oh.

He remembered that?

Jungkook seemed to have read your mind. He breathed out and pillowed his arm. His gaze was on the white ceiling as if reminiscing.

"I can't forget even if I want to. All my memories of our camping days with Captain Yoongi are just  you complaining that you can't sleep."

So that was it. Captain Yoongi used to arrange many camping trips before. He did not separate the sleeping quarters of girls and boys. He always said, "Accidents and disasters can happen anytime. You can't choose who you're with when that happens, so learn to suck it up and deal with the situation with both your friends and enemies."

What Captain Yoongi said made sense. Jungkook learned how to be more patient as he spent the camping days calming himself despite your whiny ass.

"Hey, he made us sleep with a single pillow, okay? My neck hurts." You accepted Jungkook's pillow and tried to lower your voice so as not to wake Hanni. The kid knew how to throw a fit when disturbed. "Thanks."

Jungkook hummed and closed his eyes. You looked at his sleeping figure, feeling your heart flutter. Jungkook had long lashes. From your angle, you could also see his Adam's apple bobbing and his broad chest heaving. You suddenly wondered what laying your head against his chest would be like. Was it warm? Did his heart beat slowly? Or fast? Would it calm you down? Would its sound finally make you doze off?

There were so many questions swimming in your head. Unfortunately, you still couldn't sleep despite exhausting your mind. You tried clamping your eyes tighter, but it was useless.

You didn't remember drinking coffee earlier. What about milk? Should you try downing a glass of milk to help you sleep? Perhaps counting sheep would help. Or maybe you were just craving physical touch.

Right.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you suddenly felt Jungkook wrapping his hand around your thumb. He started stroking your fingers.

Your breath caught in your throat—

"Sleep." He whispered gently, "You are safe here."

—And then your breathing evened as he continued caressing your finger. His actions and words seemed to be the potion your mind was looking for because you really did fall asleep a few minutes later.

The following day, you were awakened by the alarm and a little monkey climbing your leg.

"Terni, wake up!" The monkey was shaking your leg and hips. "Please! Please wake up! It's family day today!"

"No. I wanna sleep!" You cried begrudgingly. Why must a little monkey and an annoying alarm disturb your sleep?

Have they no conscience? This was your first time sleeping peacefully, so you tried kicking the monkey at your feet and hugged your pillow tighter.

This pillow was pretty good. It was warm and sturdy. It even smelled like fresh air and a bit loamy.

Good. You thought you could stay in this position forever as you rubbed your cheek in the pillow.

"I'm starting to think you're not actually sleeping and are just taking advantage of me." The pillow talked, forcing you to stop pinching the pillow and open your eyes.

The world seemed to stop when you were met with Jungkook's lukewarm gaze.

"Is your pillow soft and warm, Empress?" Jungkook quirked a brow, his lips curving into a teasing smile.

You gasped. All this time, you were pinching and caressing Jungkook's biceps, not a pillow! Your head was comfortably leaning on his chest, too.

Scandalous! This was all too scandalous! How dare you wrap your legs around his hipbone. And Hanni! Hanni was still latching on your leg while playing with the hem of your nightdress. 

To make things worse, Jungkook chuckled lowly in your red ear and said, "Who's the pervert now?"

No!!!!!! This was your last straw. You pulled Hanni away from your leg and immediately got up from the bed to sprint and lock yourself in the bathroom.

Damn it. This day was not how your morning should've started!

***

You did not have a crush on Jungkook— this was what you kept telling yourself while stuck in the bathroom. 

It did not matter that all you could think about was him as you bathed. Or how you couldn't stop seeing the image of him standing behind you to gather your hair in one place so you could brush your teeth better.

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as you thought about how good he had been to you the past weeks, of how attentive he was to your needs. You thought it wasn't a big deal how he gave you the only pillow he had for the night, or how he held you in the police station, or how he decorated the house with daisies every day—yes. Jungkook's madness with flowers never stopped ever since Kiyomi and Frieda's visit. He also habitually checked the mailbox first thing in the morning. You pretended not to understand why, but you knew he was checking if baby breaths were on the doorstep.

There were also times when you went home late because of work. Jungkook would then stand outside the Kang' residence, pretending to enjoy the night stars, but he was just waiting for you to come home.

You brushed off how much you appreciated his jokes, how he distracted you from the pain of losing your best friend, and how he took care of Hanni when he saw you were overwhelmed with everything. Nothing mattered to you because you were not in love—you didn't have a crush on Jungkook.

'Keep telling yourself that,' The voice inside your head betrayed you, yet you stood your ground and ignored the seed of feelings that had long since bloomed into colorful flora.

You were annoyed during the family trip. Not only were you being pestered by your damn feelings, but you were also tormented by how ridiculous you looked.

"Terni, come on. We're late!" Hanni banged her little fists on the hotel room's door. She and Jungkook had been waiting for you to come out for quite some time now.

"Go on without me! I'm not going out there!" You hissed, itching to remove your pink gloves.

"Oh, come on." You heard Jungkook's voice. He also banged the door. "The ceremony is about to start. Let's just go, please?"

You did not open the door as an acquiesce to Jungkook's soft plea. You only showed yourself to them so you could hit Jungkook in the face.

"This is your fault!"

Jungkook let you hit him. He simply chuckled at how cute you looked.

"What are you sulking for? It's not so bad!" Jungkook playfully pulled at your fake whiskers.

You hit him again. "What do you mean it's not so bad! I look stupid!"

Jungkook really exceeded your worst expectations. Who would have thought he'd buy matching rabbit costumes for the three of you? You swore to kill him if he bought something inappropriate, but honestly, you felt a slutty rabbit costume would be better than the rabbit onesie he chose. To make it worse, Jungkook purchased the pink one for you. He had the blue one, while Hanni wore a pastel purple—it was obviously the result of combining the colors pink and blue.

Now, the three of you looked like a happy family. It would have been fine if Jungkook chose a royal or superhero costume. But a rabbit? Seriously?

“Those are overrated,” Jungkook told you this when you complained about not having a Wonder Woman costume. Truthfully, you had seen two families near your hotel room wearing DC superhero costumes.

“Let’s take a picture together. I’ll send it to Kiyomi and Frieda.” Jungkook carried Hanni into his arms and pulled you closer to him. He brought out a camera and took a photo of the three of you.

You couldn’t complain after that since the two dragged you out to participate in today’s activities. Soon enough, your embarrassment did not matter as your competitive side resurfaced to shit on everyone.

It started off fun. Some parents and kids praised you and Jungkook for taking the games seriously. But things started going downhill during the segment called Family Trivia. Your family was leading by ten points, which didn’t hinder you from scoring more.

Old habits indeed died hard. You felt like you were in school again, feeling the thrill of answering rounds of questions. You lost your mind whenever another team answered the question first.

“The word family is derived from the word famulus!”

Hanni’s teacher was about to give the other family a point for scoring, but you pressed the buzzer to complain. The teacher looked at you in defeat, wanting to ignore you but couldn’t.

“Her answer is incomplete!” You argued. You were quite embarrassing, really. You reviewed the questions and games the teacher gave each family more than thrice. This was where you focused your energy; that was why you couldn’t check the trip itinerary and didn’t see you and Jungkook were sharing one bed.

“The word famulus is Latin. It means servant. Say, teacher, give us the point, not to them!”

The teacher looked apologetically at the family that was robbed of point. She couldn’t argue with you since the rules said the answers must be complete.

The other families stared at you contemptuously, but you didn’t mind since Hanni and Jungkook were cheering you on. Jungkook had also never grown out of his competitive phase. His heart swelled with pride as he raised his hand to give you a high-five.

The participants for the next game were the father and his child. Hanni would help Jungkook build a tent. It took the other families twenty minutes to set up their tents, but Jungkook and Hanni did it in less than 10 minutes—this was kudos to Jungkook’s training at the police academy and years of practice doing it during your camping days with Captain Yoongi.

None of the families wanted to talk to you by the end of the games. They thought you ruined the fun for their children. Some kids even scoffed at Hanni, leaving your poor goddaughter crying.

Your heart ached to see Hanni sad. You couldn’t help but blame yourself for taking things this far. It was your competitiveness that ruined Hanni’s reputation at the daycare. Needless to say, Jungkook rubbed yours and Hanni’s back, telling the two of you that you’d win back their hearts before the night's end.

However, you didn’t seem to have a chance to do that when rain suddenly started pouring. You were currently at the top of the mountain. The hike down wasn’t too far, but the ground would be slippery. It was already getting dark. The plan was to sleep in the tent the fathers and children set up earlier, but that didn’t seem viable now.

“We’d like to apologize for this unforeseen event.” Hanni’s teacher was apologetic. It was their mistake for not checking the weather forecast more clearly. “Let’s just wait for the rain to stop; then, we can all hike and sleep in the hotel instead. Don’t worry. The daycare will shoulder all expenses.”

The teacher’s statement did not pacify the parents, as their children started whining and throwing a fit because of the lightning and thunder. Hanni was the only well-behaved child—kudos to Jungkook for sitting with Hanni back at home and educating her about navigating rainy days.

“It’s okay, Jungkook-boy. I’m not scared.” Hanni assured Jungkook. Your heart recoiled with joy seeing them like this. The feelings you had been hiding since morning threatened to resurface again. This time, you were utterly defenseless and were left with no choice but to step back and let the arrow pierce your delicate heart.

 Jungkook was a good guardian—a better father than most men you knew. Any woman would be lucky to have him father her children.

You looked around. Most fathers did not know what to do when faced with their crying child. Some tried to subtly scold the little kids for acting up. The others did not bother to hide that they were pinching the kid’s arms to get them to calm down. The mothers were feeling distressed, too.

You abruptly stood up. Hanni was sitting on Jungkook’s lap. Both of them met your gaze and asked where you were going.

“I’ll talk to the teacher. Just give me a minute.” You did not wait for their response and just headed in front. The teacher was having a hard time calming down the kids. You signaled that you wanted to talk, so she nodded and found a quiet place for you to converse.

Several seconds later, you stood before the parents and the students while holding a guitar. Hanni’s teacher borrowed this instrument from one of the families cosplaying as a family of performers.

“Hello, everyone ~” you greeted them. Only a few spared you a glance as they were still busy pacifying their crying kids. You proceeded with your mini-speech and told them you’d be singing a song.

“Kids, you need to listen to the song, alright? Don’t think about the thunder. Just focus on the melody." Then you strummed the guitar strings. Along with it was the light tugging of your heartstrings. Music, particularly singing, was your passion. It was your escape whenever things started getting overwhelming.

Soon enough, the thunder was overpowered by your singing voice. Call it a miracle or just pure talent, but your melodious voice caused peace to seep through everyone’s heart.

You were singing You’ll Be In My Heart by Phil Collins. You were both excellent singers, but something in your voice made you stand out more. Perhaps it was because of how painfully raw your voice was—when you sang, you didn’t just sing with your mouth. You sang with your heart. 

You created your own version of the original song that no one could recreate, not even the most prominent voice impersonator. Your voice was like kisses and candles and warm hugs. You were like the last bit of sunlight before the raging storm. And when the storm was over, you were the rainbow—the colorful hues that told people there was hope. 

The children stopped crying. Jungkook was the first to stand up and clap his hands like his life depended on it. The other followed suit; whistles and laughter echoed the place.

A little while later, the rain finally stopped, and Jungkook’s claim turned out to be correct:

You’d won the people’s hearts before the night ended.

***

The path going down the mountain would take ten minutes or so. It was also a straight and smooth trail, so the kids wouldn't find walking difficult. However, the adults didn't have the heart to let these three-year-old children walk. Luckily, there were mountain wagons they could ride.

Hanni was hanging out with her friends again. Your singing voice really warmed them up. They thought Hanni was pretty cool for having a guardian whose voice was as good as Elsa from Frozen and other Disney princesses.

"Does this mean you're demoted to being just a princess, Empress?" Jungkook teased you on the way back to the hotel. You two were walking beside each other.

The teacher, parents, and other officials guided all the kids in the wagon. Jungkook decided to walk at the back of the group, his police lieutenant personality kicking in. He wanted to make sure no one was left behind.

You figured you'd just accompany him as you didn't want to converse with other parents. Besides, they were busy looking after the wagons.

"Shut up, you lowly subject. This empress felt happy, so I thought, why not appease my people?" You shot back at Jungkook. He laughed at your poor attempt to talk like a royalty. It was funny, considering you were still in your rabbit costume.

Jungkook encircled his hands on your waist and pulled you near him, ensuring you didn't hit any trees. He hummed, "I haven't heard you sing in years."

Of course, he had not. Law school and your life in general fucked you up so badly. You had experienced failure after failure to the point that you questioned yourself—starting from the things that defined you to the things you loved and hated.

You wondered if you would ever amount to more. Failures took such a great toll on you that even the thing you loved the most didn't feel fulfilling anymore. There was a point in your life where you thought you didn't have the right to make music—that it should be reserved for people who were good at it and not someone like you who just loved it.

"That's cause I haven't sung in years." You admitted.

Jungkook cast his gaze on the ground. His heart was uneasy, wanting to ask you a question, but he wasn't sure if he had the right to.

"Last time I sang was when I was with you."

Your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Jungkook still heard it. He paused. Then he looked at you intently.

You weren't lying. Years ago, you were passionate about music. You even composed your own songs. Sora and Taehyung used to listen to your work all the time, but those two were easily distracted and would just tell you, "It's good." Of course, you still appreciated it.

However, you seemed to be looking for something more. You thought of Jungkook at that time. He was down and feeling edgy the past weeks. It was because his mother got into an accident and ended up needing leg surgery.

Jungkook barely ate, worrying about his mother to the point of insanity. You couldn't take it anymore, so you once went to him with a guitar.

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you," Jungkook warned. There were no biting remarks in his tone, just pure exhaustion. The fire in his eyes was extinguished, too.

You rolled your eyes and sighed.

"I'm not here to fight. I just need you to listen to me sing."

"Huh?" Jungkook flinched. He was clearly perplexed about what you said. Did you seriously want to sing in front of him? Were you sick? You never liked to sing whenever Jungkook was around. You said he ruined your mood, so what changed now?

"It's just that..." You trailed off and copied his habit of scratching the back of his neck. It was a good thing you could immediately think of an excuse, "You're my rival. Rivals talk shit a lot about each other, right? I'm joining a singing competition soon. I want you to hear it first, and then you can criticize me all you want. I need to hear them."

Jungkook was not convinced, but he let you be. After all, it was easier to listen to your angelic voice rather than fight you.

You sang your own composition. It was not a love or a heartbreak song. Jungkook sat there dazed, wondering why his heart unexpectedly felt light as you sang words of encouragement—it was as if you were telling him that the huge storm would pass, and all that would be left was a mother's loving embrace.

Jungkook felt tears filling his eyes. He blinked and wiped them before you could see.

"How was it?" You put down your guitar. A gracious smile was plastered on your lips.

It's stupid. I hate it. Don't sing again. These were the words Jungkook wanted to say because these were what you were expecting. But Jungkook was not a liar and was always vocal about his feelings. The first time he met Ji-eun, he did not hesitate to tell her she had pretty hair.

"Thank you," Jungkook ended up telling you. His voice was unbelievably soft that your heart couldn't help but melt. "It was beautiful." You were beautiful.

It sure was. Jungkook did not know what else to say, but it was okay. Later that day and the following days, Jungkook was back to his old self.

He could eat and smile again.

He then asked about the singing competition, but you shrugged and said, "Nah. I don't want to join anymore."

Only a few years later did Jungkook realize that there was no singing competition in the first place.

Jungkook's eyes drooped. You were already in Seoul when he found out about it. Sometimes, he entertained the idea of confronting you about it. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity to do it, but Jungkook just caught your wrist instead of asking you about it.

"Hm?" You stared at him innocently. He stopped walking, and so did you.

"Would you..." Jungkook swallowed hard and licked his lower lip. He felt his heart stuttering.

Your eyes were glistening despite the lack of a moon in the sky.

"Would you...sing a song for me again?"

There was a pregnant pause in the air. You blinked at Jungkook, and for a moment, Jungkook thought you would say no. But then you gently cleared your throat and nodded.

"Let's walk." You pulled him and started descending the mountain. You two were keeping a good distance from the group of people. From here, you could see Hanni laughing heartily with her classmates.

The wind blew, hugging you and Jungkook with its coldness.

"All I knew this morning when I woke, is I know something now, know something now I didn't before~"

When Jungkook asked you to sing, your mind instantly went into autopilot and sang whatever your heart told you.

Everything Has Changed—the song title was exactly what you felt for Jungkook. Wasn't it funny? You went to Busan for your dead best friend.

Sometimes, you felt guilty you were not mourning her enough—that Sora was dead, but your treacherous heart was beating like it never did before.

There was death, but there was also rebirth—the blooming of something you thought you buried for good and left with not even a trace of sunlight.

Daylight had come.

It went in the shade of all right and tall guy with gentle eyes.

Jungkook smiled softly at you. He did not react until you finished singing.

You were almost down the mountain. The kids and the others were already at the foot. It was just you and Jungkook here.

"How's my singing, Your Majesty the Emperor?" You intended to go for a light teasing, but something in Jungkook snapped when you called him emperor.

You were the empress, weren't you?

No words were exchanged. Jungkook put his hand on the small of your back, drawing you in.

Jungkook had kissed other people before. Whenever he did, he always held their cheeks before diving in. But with you, it was different.

He first stroked your head before his right hand gently held the back of your head; his other hand was still in the small of your back.

Jungkook stared deep into your eyes. It was as if he wanted to touch your soul with how intense yet languid he looked at you.

He seemed to want to memorize every part of your face—afraid you'd vanish if he so much as blinked.

But looking was not enough. He wanted a taste, too.

Jungkook wetted his lips, leaning in. Then, very slowly, he inched closer to you as if giving you time to push him away.

You did not.

But Jungkook was still so afraid. His eyelashes quivered before he dipped his head and gave you a soft peck on the lips.

There were no fireworks or grand and flowery words people read in novels.

The kiss was just it—a kiss.

There were no intense feelings, but there was Jungkook and his soft eyes and open heart.

There were no fireworks, but there was the sound of inserting the key in the door lock, then came the twisting of the knob before the door opened.

There was no rollercoaster kind of feeling in that one kiss. Because the only thing here was home.

Kissing Jungkook felt like coming home.

PART 2

likes and comments are highly appreciated 🙏 it motivates me to write more 😉💙

Y/N of this fic patterned to my IRL best friend. i love her so much pls listen to her cover of You'll Be in My Heart as this is how I imagined Y/N singing the song.

[curse-of-art]

I love it when two idiots keep flirting stupidly without meaning it omg this chapter was so sweet🥹 my delusional inner monster is happy 🫶🏻

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 23

˗ˏˋmatching threads ˎˊ˗

"You didn’t expect Jungkook’s birthday to end with soft talks about Mayer, thunderstorms and stupid craft projects. And yet, here you are."

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 9.5k

content: delayed gifts, hand brushing, subtle comfort, emotional hypervigilance, miscommunication, clashing attachment styles, slow understanding, quiet intimacy, unexpected softness, bittersweet memories, trauma-informed reactions, symbolic objects, real conversations, familial grief undertones, perceptive but clueless boys, warmth in small gestures, psychological contrast, vulnerability denial, casual closeness, accidental meaning, rain metaphors.

Kiki Nation’s official discussion thread for FMU 23

✧ author's note ✧

This chapter made me feel some type of way, and not in the thirst-posting way for once (shocking, I know). There’s a softness to it that snuck up on me. Like I sat down to write what I thought would be a moment of transition, and ended up face-planting into the kind of quiet, delicate intimacy that’s so often overlooked both in fiction and real life. So here I am, feeling dumb and raw and tender over two forks.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Chapter 21, specifically that hand-touch moment—how subtle it was, and how I never explicitly addressed it in the narration because I didn’t want to. That’s the thing with psychologically driven writing: you’re not meant to be spoon-fed emotional meaning. You’re supposed to notice the tiny things. The almosts. The unspoken. The instinctive kindness that isn’t necessarily romantic, but still manages to get under your skin. That’s what that subway touch was. Not Jungkook being in love. Not a declaration. Just him, in his purest, most unaware form—being soft. Gentle. Deeply perceptive in a way that hurts because it’s so unconscious.

And that’s what this whole chapter is circling around. It’s not about a confession. It’s not even about clarity. It’s about conflict—internal, relational, unintentional conflict between people who are shaped by opposite emotional mechanisms.

Jungkook isn’t emotionally open, but he acts open because he’s thoughtful. Reader is emotionally hyperaware, but she reacts closed-off, because she’s scared and guarded. He acts without thinking deeply about it. She thinks deeply and then doesn’t act. They miss each other again and again not because they don’t care, but because their blueprints don’t match. And yet—they try. Or maybe, they accidentally try. And isn’t that so real?

One of them touches without thinking. The other flinches while overthinking. One gives a gift like it’s nothing. The other interprets it like it’s everything. They’re both right. They’re both wrong. That tension? That’s the story.

This chapter doesn’t show love blooming. It shows understanding struggling to sprout in barren soil.

They have so much ahead of them, so many versions of themselves they haven’t grown into yet. This moment is not culmination—it’s foundation. It matters. It matters more than if they’d just fucked again. Because emotional timing? Matters. And this wasn’t the time for sex. It was the time for emotionally loaded shit I can’t name because you haven’t read the chapter yet, but is now haunting me forever.

Read slow. Read deep. Look for the invisible thread. That’s where the truth is.

⋆｡°✩ read on✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

Walking back into the karaoke room feels like entering a different dimension—one where rooftop confessions and ex-girlfriend confrontations don't exist.

The noise hits you first, a wall of sound that's almost physical in its intensity. Hobi is mid-Mariah, belting out a note that should probably be classified as a war crime, while Ryan and Seth egg him on with increasingly chaotic dance moves. Tessa's doubled over laughing on the couch next to Diana, both of them recording the spectacle on their phones. Yeji and Irya are engaged in what appears to be a heated debate with Jimin over whether Britney or Christina had the better 90s catalog. Yoongi watches it all from his corner seat, expression caught somewhere between amusement and exhaustion.

"Holy shit, he's alive!" Kevin shouts when Jungkook steps through the doorway. 

The room erupts in cheers and catcalls, like they're welcoming a returning champion rather than someone who disappeared for half an hour.

"Dude, we thought you fell in," David calls out, raising his drink in salute. "World's longest bathroom break."

"Nah, he was definitely sneaking in a Clash Royale marathon," Kevin argues, tossing an empty cup that Jungkook easily dodges. "Probably hiding in a stall like a true gamer."

"You wish your stats were as good as mine," Jungkook fires back, slipping effortlessly into the friendly banter like he wasn't just having some kind of existential crisis on the rooftop. 

It's impressive, really—the way he can flip that switch, become this version of himself that fits perfectly into the chaos around him.

While everyone's attention is focused on Jungkook's triumphant return, Taehyung makes a beeline for Yoongi and Hobi, who've gravitated toward each other in a corner of the room. 

You're not trying to eavesdrop, exactly, but you happen to be standing close enough to hear the urgent whisper:

"He was on the roof."

The effect is immediate. Both Yoongi and Hobi snap their heads toward Taehyung, their expressions shifting so quickly it's almost comical—except there's nothing funny about the naked fear that flashes across their faces.

"It wasn't like that!" Jungkook interrupts, appearing beside them with surprising speed. His voice is a harsh whisper-shout, barely audible over the music but intense enough to make all three of his friends freeze. "I just needed air. Seriously."

"Bro..." Yoongi's voice is low, the single syllable carrying more weight than it should.

"Jungkook, you know how that looks to us," Hobi says, softer but no less serious. 

"I know. I'm sorry," Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you're starting to recognize as his nervous tic. "But it wasn't... that. I swear. I just went there to think."

"After seeing her?" Taehyung presses, still tense.

"Yeah," Jungkook admits, "but it wasn't—look, can we not do this right now? It's fine. I'm fine."

There's clearly more to whatever ‘it’ is—something significant enough to make three grown men look like they've seen a ghost. 

But Jungkook's expression makes it clear the discussion is over, at least for now.

You should probably stop pretending to be fascinated by the karaoke song list and move away before they realize you're listening. 

But before you can, Jungkook abruptly changes the subject, his voice rising to a cheerful pitch that sounds slightly forced.

"Alright, alright!" He claps his hands together, turning to face the room. "So... birthday gifts for the birthday boy?"

The tension shatters as the crowd erupts in excited chatter. Seth whoops loudly, and someone (Ryan, you think) starts an off-key rendition of ‘For He's A Jolly Good Fellow’ that quickly derails into chaos. Jungkook's shoulders visibly relax as the attention shifts from whatever just happened to the much safer territory of presents.

One by one, people approach with gifts—some wrapped beautifully, others clearly hastily stuffed into whatever bag was available. 

Taehyung goes first, handing over a sleek black box tied with a simple red ribbon.

"Don't make it weird," he warns as Jungkook takes it.

Inside is what appears to be a ridiculously expensive camera lens. You don't know enough about photography to identify it, but based on the way Jungkook's eyes widen and his mouth forms a perfect ‘o,’ it's something significant.

"Dude," he breathes, lifting it carefully like it might shatter. "This is—holy shit, Tae."

"Yeah, well." Taehyung shrugs, but you catch the pleased smile he tries to hide. "You've been whining about needing a better wide-angle for your urban shots, so."

Jungkook looks genuinely moved, holding the lens like it's made of gold. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I always remember," Taehyung says simply, and the way he says it that makes you think he means more than just camera preferences.

Hobi goes next, presenting a sleek box containing what looks like high-end wireless headphones. 

“For all those late-night production sessions," he explains with a grin. "So we don't have to hear your trash music taste through the walls anymore."

"You love my music, asshole," Jungkook laughs, already testing them out.

"I love peace more," Hobi retorts, but he's beaming as Jungkook gives an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Yoongi's gift is less physical—a card containing what appears to be a voucher for studio time. 

“Booked you sixteen hours at Blueline," he says with characteristic understatement. "For that soundtrack project you mentioned."

Jungkook looks up from the card, something like disbelief crossing his face. "Dude, Blueline is impossible to get into. How did you—"

"I know people," Yoongi shrugs. "Just don't waste it making crap."

"I would never disrespect the temple," Jungkook promises solemnly, pressing the card to his heart with mock reverence.

The gift-giving continues, a parade of thoughtful items that speak to genuine friendship: rare vinyl records, vintage film books, an artisan coffee setup that makes Jungkook actually bounce with excitement. 

It's sweet, really—seeing him surrounded by people who clearly know him well, who've put thought into what he'd like.

And then it hits you.

Fuck.

The Mayer vinyl. Sitting on your dresser at home, still in its brown paper wrapping from that record store in Williamsburg. 

Because okay, first of all—who brings a fragile vinyl record to MOMA and then a karaoke bar? 

You simply had no way of bringing it without raising suspicions. 

And maybe asking Yoongi for help bringing it over would’ve made it look like you cared, so.

The gifts are winding down, and Jungkook is making his rounds, thanking everyone with what seems like genuine gratitude. He looks happier now, more relaxed—whatever happened with Mia and on the rooftop temporarily forgotten in the warmth of celebration.

You're contemplating whether you should make up some excuse about your gift when suddenly he's right there, appearing in your peripheral vision like he materialized out of thin air.

"So," he says, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as he leans just a bit too close. "Where's my present, Pyx?"

The nickname rolls off his tongue, familiar enough now that you've stopped rolling your eyes every time he uses it. (Mostly.)

"At home," you admit, trying to sound casual and not like someone who completely failed at basic gift logistics.

"Oh?" 

His lips purse, fighting back what's clearly a smirk. 

The glint in his eye is positively dangerous. 

"At home?"

Your cheeks heat up against your will. 

“Not—I don't mean it like that," you stammer, realizing too late how your answer could be interpreted. "I mean I literally left it at the apartment. It wouldn't fit in my bag."

"Big gift, huh?" he murmurs, leaning even closer. His breath brushes your ear, warm and smelling faintly of vanilla. "I'm intrigued."

"It's just a thing," you say lamely. "Nothing special."

"I'd honestly be happy with the other interpretation, for the record," he continues like you haven't spoken, voice dropping to a register that should be illegal in public spaces. 

"In your dreams," you scoff, but it comes out weaker than intended.

"Every night," he confirms, that infuriating smirk spreading across his face now. "Detailed, technicolor dreams. Sometimes you even—"

"Boundaries, Rogue," you cut him off, pressing a finger against his lips. "We're in public."

"That didn't stop you earlier," he whispers, gaze flicking to your lips for the briefest second. "On the roof?"

"That was different."

"Different how?"

"We were alone then."

"We could be alone again," he suggests, voice casual but eyes anything but. "Plenty of dark corners in this building."

"You're incorrigible."

"You like it."

Before you can come up with a suitably cutting response, Ryan's voice cuts through the general noise of the room: "Yo, I'm gonna crash out! It's getting late!"

The announcement triggers a cascade of similar declarations. 

Suddenly people are gathering coats, exchanging final birthday wishes, making plans to meet up later in the week. The energy in the room shifts from celebration to conclusion, that particular lull that comes at the end of a good night.

As people begin filing out, Seth materializes beside you, a confident smile plastered across his face that probably works on most girls but just makes you want to step back a foot or three.

"So," he says, leaning in close enough that you can smell the tequila on his breath, "I was thinking I should get your number. You know, to hang out sometime."

"Uhhh," you stall, searching for a polite rejection. "No thanks."

His smile doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. 

“Come on, we had fun tonight, right? Just give me your number. I promise I'll only use it for emergencies." He winks, like this is some clever line that's going to change your mind.

"I said no thanks," you repeat, firmer this time.

"Don't be like that," he persists, stepping even closer. "Just your number. What's the big deal?"

You're about to tell him exactly what the big deal is when Jungkook appears at your side, his expression suddenly hard.

"Bro," he says, annoyance coloring his tone, "can't you see she ain't interested?"

Seth blinks, looking between you and Jungkook. "I'm just asking for her number, man. No harm in that."

"Except she already said no. Twice." Jungkook's tone is still light, but there's an edge to it now. "So maybe take the hint?"

For a moment, Seth looks like he might argue. Then he sighs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. 

"Fine, whatever. Your loss," he adds, with a final glance your way before merging back into the departing crowd.

"How is that your friend?" you ask once he's safely out of earshot, genuinely baffled that someone like Jungkook would hang out with such a persistent creep.

"He isn't, technically," Jungkook shrugs, watching Seth's retreating back with a slightly disgusted look. "He's Ryan's friend, who sometimes hangs out with Ryan, and so with us too. Definitely not my pick for the squad."

"Thank god for small mercies," you mutter, and he laughs, the tension from the Seth encounter dissipating as quickly as it arrived.

Jungkook steps back from you, that heated moment dissipating as he slips back into social host mode. You watch as he makes his rounds, thanking everyone for coming, accepting final hugs and handshakes. He's good at this—making each person feel individually appreciated, remembered. 

It's a side of him you are staring to recognize more and more often. 

When he reaches Tessa, you notice how his posture softens slightly. He says something that makes her laugh, tucking that perfect auburn hair behind her ear in a gesture that's both shy and flirtatious.

"You need a ride?" he asks her, and you barely manage to overhear. "I can call an Uber."

"No need," she smiles, gesturing toward Diana. "We're sharing a car. Diana lives just a few blocks from me."

"Good," he nods, looking genuinely relieved. "Text when you get home safe?"

It's sweet, the way he's concerned for her safety. Not what you'd expect from the guy who leaves his dirty dishes in the sink for days and thinks changing the toilet paper roll is optional. 

But then again, tonight has been full of surprises when it comes to Jungkook.

"Will do," Tessa promises, then hesitates before leaning in to give him a quick hug. "Happy birthday, Jungkook."

You watch them, something jittery settling in your chest. 

His lucky ass might actually score someone genuinely nice and put-together, who seems to actually like him beyond just his face and body. 

Good for him. 

Good for her, even, if she can't see that she's way out of his league.

Ten minutes later, the room has mostly cleared. Only your strange merged group remains—Yeji and Irya saying their goodbyes to Jimin by the door, while Taehyung, Hobi, Yoongi, Jungkook, and you linger in a loose circle near the couches.

"Subway?" Yoongi asks, addressing both you and Jungkook with his usual economy of words.

Jungkook nods, glancing at his phone. "Still running for another hour."

"I'll walk with you guys to the station," Taehyung offers, but Jungkook shakes his head.

"Nah, you're uptown. That's the opposite direction."

"I don't mind."

"I'm fine, Tae," Jungkook says firmly, and there's a weight to the words that seems to carry a conversation from earlier. "Really."

Taehyung doesn't look convinced, but after a moment of silent communication, he relents. "Text me when you get home."

"Yes, mom."

"I'm serious."

"I know," Jungkook's tone softens. "I will."

The farewells are quick after that—Hobi heading uptown with Taehyung, Jimin walking Yeji and Irya to their car, and the three of you—you, Jungkook, and Yoongi—making your way toward the subway station that will take you back to your shared apartment.

It feels like you've been gone for days rather than hours—like the person who left the apartment this morning for her first day at Barnes & Noble somehow isn't quite the same one heading home now.

But that's a thought for another time, when your head isn't fuzzy with tequila and your feet aren't aching from standing half the night.

For now, you just follow your roommates through the city streets toward the subway station, the quiet between you comfortable in a way it hasn't been before.

The subway car at this hour is practically abandoned—just a few night owls and the occasional service worker scattered across the seats like human tumbleweeds. 

Yoongi claims a seat by the door, immediately slipping his AirPods exactly like someone who's perfected the art of social avoidance. Within seconds, his head is tilted back against the subway wall, eyes closed. 

Either he's fallen asleep that quickly, or he's just really committed to pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist.

Jungkook drops into the seat beside him, legs splayed wide in that uniquely male way that screams ‘my balls need their own zip code.’ You take the spot next to him, trying to claim whatever minimal space is left.

Like seriously? There are literally twenty empty seats.

You nudge your knee pointedly against his. "Do you mind?"

"Wha?" He glances down, genuinely confused.

"The manspreading, bro," you gesture at his legs. "You're taking up enough space for three people."

He grins, completely unashamed. "I need to air out the jewels."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" You swat his arm, genuinely annoyed. "That's exactly the problem with guys like you. Public space isn't designed for your testicle ventilation system."

"Guys like me?" He raises an eyebrow, still smirking but at least looking slightly less smug.

"Yes. Guys who think their comfort is more important than the space of everyone around them." You're on a roll now, the combination of lingering tequila and genuine irritation fueling your feminist rant. "Women are literally conditioned to take up as little space as possible, to cross our legs, to fold ourselves into tiny spaces, while men just spread out like they own the world. It's literally a physical manifestation of patriarchal entitlement."

His smirk fades slightly, replaced by something closer to actual consideration. 

He glances down at his legs, then at the way you've automatically tucked yours together to accommodate his sprawl.

"Shit, I sound like a TikTok right now, don't I?" you mutter.

"No, no," he says, actually shifting his legs together. "You're not wrong. I didn't really think about it that way."

Wait. What?

"You're just saying that because it's your birthday and you think you get a free pass," you say suspiciously.

"No, I actually get it," he says, looking strangely thoughtful. "My mom used to call me out for the same shit. Called it 'man space disease.' Said my dad had it too."

And now you don't know what to do with yourself. 

Because what the actual fuck? 

How are you supposed to maintain righteous irritation when he just... listens? Takes criticism? Brings up his mom in a way that makes him seem like an actual human person with a past and stuff?

Goddammit. Now you can't even properly be mad at him, which somehow makes you even more annoyed. 

"Anyway," you say, desperate to change the subject before you lose all moral high ground. "Happy birthday again or whatever."

"Thanks," he says, and then adds, "for everything. The museum was actually cool. Didn't know you had taste, Phee."

"I'm literally an English major."

"Yeah, but that just means you read boring-ass books from dead white guys."

"That's... not what English degrees are about," you sputter. "And I bet 90% of your film classes are just Scorsese and Tarantino circle jerks."

He laughs, a genuine sound that echoes in the empty subway car. "Fuck, you got me there. Though Tarantino is—"

"If you say 'ahead of his time,' I will push you onto the tracks at the next stop."

"I was gonna say overrated, actually. Everyone loses their mind over Pulp Fiction, but honestly? Mid."

You blink, genuinely surprised. "Okay, that's the most correct opinion you've ever had."

"I have tons of correct opinions. You just never ask me about them."

"Sure, like your opinion that coffee is better than tea?"

"Because it is!"

"That whole statement is a crime, is what it is."

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, and leans back, conversation over because he’s clearly not arguing over this. 

So the subway rattles on, the rhythmic clacking of wheels against track filling the silence. 

Your thoughts drift to earlier tonight—to that moment on the first subway ride when his hand had brushed against yours. 

Just a whisper of contact, his pinky grazing yours on the metal bar.

Why did he do that? What was the deal with that?

The question nags at you, an itch you can't scratch. Not because it matters in any deep way—obviously it doesn't—but because puzzling out Jungkook's behavior is becoming something of a hobby. 

A frustrating, often pointless hobby, but still.

"Hey," you say before you can talk yourself out of it. "Question for you."

He turns toward you, eyebrows raised slightly. "Shoot."

"Earlier, on the subway..." You hesitate, suddenly feeling stupid for bringing it up. "You kind of touched my hand on the bar? What was that about?"

"Huh?" He looks genuinely confused for a moment, then recognition dawns. "Oh! That."

He says it so casually, like it wasn't something worth remembering. Which it isn't. Obviously.

"I just noticed you had a panic attack this morning," he continues, his tone matter-of-fact. "In my room."

"What?" Your voice comes out sharper than intended, surprise making your pulse quicken. "How did you—"

"I passed by and heard your breathing," he explains, shrugging like this is a completely normal thing to say. "But I didn't want to intrude. Since it's something very personal and knowing you..." 

He looks to the side as he gestures vaguely. 

"Well, I don't think you'd have appreciated me barging in, so I just went back to cooking my super pancakes."

You stare at him, dumbfounded. 

Who… Who the fuck is this dude? When did Jungkook develop this thoughtful, considerate side? Is he possessed? Should you be checking for pod people?

"So on the subway," he continues, oblivious to your internal crisis, "I dunno, I felt you had off vibes, and—"

"Again with the vibes?" You can't help but interject.

He laughs, the sound sharp and genuine. "Bro, you had this face like the sad hamster meme and I couldn't take it. That's why I brushed your hand. Reassurance, y'know?"

"The... sad hamster meme?" you repeat, incredulous.

He whips out his phone, types something, then shows you the screen: a round-faced hamster looking depressed as hell, its tiny eyes radiating existential despair.

"That's not—I don't look like that!" you protest.

"You literally did. One hundred percent emotional support hamster energy."

"I will actually murder you in your sleep."

His expression shifts, something vulnerable flickering across his features.

"My mom—" 

He cuts himself off, suddenly looking down at his lap.

But somehow, he decides to continue.

"My mom used to do that for me, so I thought it might help. The hand thing. Not calling you a hamster," he clarifies quickly. "Just a small touch when I was stressed. Sorry if it was weird."

Oh.

"No, no, it wasn't weird," you say quickly. 

The image of a younger Jungkook, being comforted by his mother with small touches, is annoyingly humanizing. 

Couldn't he just stay a two-dimensional asshole? Would make life so much simpler.

"No?" He looks up, searching your face.

"...No." You clear your throat, trying to regain your footing. "It's kind of nice, actually. That you're this attentive." 

You clear your throat then; but it’s like the air is getting stuck in your throat at the sudden sincerity of this conversation.

So you can't help adding: "I guess. Could've apply it to the household, you know? Like maybe notice when the trash needs taking out?"

He snorts at that, the weird moment breaking; and you couldn’t be happier.

“One step at a time, Pyx. One step at a time."

"So your observational skills only work when it comes to me having panic attacks, not when the dishes need doing?" 

"I have selective observation abilities," he admits with a grin. "Like a very specific superpower."

"World's shittiest X-Man," you mutter. "'I'm Emotional Support Man. I can tell when you're sad but can't locate the broom.'"

He laughs, harder this time. "Fuck, that's actually my brand. Can I put that in my Instagram bio?"

"Only if you credit me."

"Deal."

The subway lurches around a corner, and you both sway with the movement. You catch Yoongi cracking one eye open, glancing at you both before apparently deciding you're not interesting enough to stay awake for and closing it again.

"So like, you must be psyched about the studio time from Yoongi," you say, genuinely curious about this part of Jungkook's life that you know almost nothing about.

"Dude, you have no idea. Blueline is like..." he gestures expansively, searching for the right words, "it's basically where half the top-charting albums from last year were produced. Their equipment is insane. Sixteen hours there is worth like, a month in a regular studio."

"And he just... got that for you? Just like that?"

"Yoongi knows people," Jungkook says, with a hint of pride. "He's lowkey connected as fuck in the music scene. Doesn't talk about it much, but he's got production credits on some tracks that went viral last year."

"Wait, seriously? Yoongi? Our Yoongi? The guy who speaks like four words a day?"

"That's his whole strategy," Jungkook whispers dramatically, leaning closer like he's sharing state secrets. "The less he says, the more people think he's some kind of genius."

"Is it working?" you ask, also whispering despite yourself.

He grins. "I mean, he got me sixteen hours at Blueline, so yeah, I'd say it's working pretty well."

"What are you gonna do there?"

"I'm scoring a short film by this director I know. Nothing major, just like a fifteen-minute thing, but I've been wanting to experiment with this sound for a while—like lo-fi beats but with some orchestral elements mixed in. Kind of a vibe Jonny Greenwood meets Nujabes thing, if that makes sense?"

It doesn't, really, but the way his eyes light up as he talks about it is surprisingly engaging. 

Cute.

Because that’s Jungkook when he talks about something he cares deeply about. He just… gestures as he explains, hands moving expressively, and his entire demeanor changes.

"That's actually really cool," you admit before you can stop yourself.

"Yeah?" He looks genuinely pleased by your approval, which is weird. Since when does he care what you think? "You should come by sometime. Check it out."

"I didn't know you were into all that," you say, genuinely curious now. "The music stuff, I mean. I knew about the film major, but..."

"I'm a man of many talents, Phee," he says with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes.

"Okay, and we're back to you being insufferable. That was a nice five-minute break."

He laughs, not at all offended. "Can't let you get too comfortable. Gotta keep you on your toes."

The subway announcement system announces your stop is next. 

Yoongi's eyes open immediately, like he has some kind of sixth sense for exactly when to wake up. He removes his AirPods, tucking them into his pocket as he stands.

"You coming?" he asks, directing the question to both of you but somehow making it sound like he couldn't care less either way.

"Yeah, yeah," Jungkook says, already standing. 

He offers you a hand up, the gesture casual but unexpected.

You hesitate for just a second before taking it, letting him pull you to your feet. His hand is warm, the calluses from guitar playing rough against your palm. And then he drops it as soon as you're standing, no lingering, no loaded moment. Just a simple courtesy.

But it’s the normal, everyday nature of the gesture that throws you. 

Like this is just what you do now—casual, friendly touches that mean nothing beyond basic human interaction.

The subway slows as it approaches your stop, and you grab the pole to steady yourself, pushing this strange new dynamic to the back of your mind to examine later. 

When you're alone. 

And preferably sober.

You've never heard Griffin meow that loudly outside of dinner time, and even then, it's not this fucking dramatic.

The elevator doors have barely slid open when the unholy feline screeching hits your ears—a sound that could only be described as a cat being simultaneously vacuumed and baptized against its will.

"What the fuck?" you mutter, already picking up your pace toward the apartment door.

Jungkook's reaction is instantaneous. One second he's trudging beside you, still talking about some obscure music producer, and the next he's bolting down the hallway like someone lit his ass on fire.

"Griffin!" His voice carries genuine panic as he fumbles with his keys, hands suddenly clumsy with urgency.

You follow right behind him, though your motivations are decidedly less noble. 

The building has a strict no-pets policy, and the last thing you need is to get evicted because Jungkook's furry contraband is having a meltdown at 1 AM.

"Jesus Christ, let me do it," you hiss, shoving at his hands. "You're gonna wake up the whole floor."

"I got it, I got it," he insists, still struggling with the lock as Griffin continues his banshee impression on the other side of the door.

"Clearly you don't got it," you argue, trying to wrestle the keys from his grip. "You're making it worse!"

"Can you just—will you just—give me a second—"

You're both so busy fighting over the keys that neither of you notices Yoongi until he's physically shoving both of you aside with surprisingly pointy elbows.

"Move," he grunts, extracting his own key and long since given up on expecting basic competence from either of you.

The lock clicks open, and the door swings wide just in time for an orange blur to come rocketing out into the hallway. 

Griffin shoots between your legs like he's auditioning for some Usain Bolt competition (but make it feline), though to no avail, because Jungkook's reflexes are impressively fast. 

Three quick strides and he's scooping the cat up, cradling him against his chest.

"Hey, hey, buddy, what's wrong?" he murmurs, immediately checking the cat for injuries. "You okay? What happened?"

Griffin, now safely ensconced in Jungkook's arms, has miraculously stopped his caterwauling and is instead purring loud enough to vibrate the hallway. 

The little shit.

"Oh my god, Jungkook, tell your cat to shut the fuck up," you hiss, glancing nervously toward neighboring doors. "You know the neighbors are gonna snitch if he keeps that up."

"No they won't," he says with the confidence of someone who's never faced consequences for anything in his life. "They all love me."

You blink. "You know all the neighbors?"

He just shrugs, already carrying Griffin back into the apartment like the entire dramatic episode never happened.

Yoongi, having completed his sole contribution to the crisis, is already disappearing into his bedroom, door clicking shut behind him with a finality that says ‘do not disturb under penalty of death.’

You stand awkwardly in the entryway, fidgeting with your keys, suddenly hyperaware that you're alone with Jungkook for the first time since... whatever that moment on the rooftop was.

He snorts, still cradling Griffin like a baby. 

"So where's my gift?"

Of course. Of course he couldn't just let it go. Had to make things weird and awkward because god forbid Jungkook let any interaction proceed without maximum discomfort.

You grunt noncommittally and trudge to your bedroom, pointedly closing the door behind you. 

There, sitting innocently on your dresser, is the crumpled paper bag from the flea market. 

Inside is the stupid vinyl record you'd impulsively bought for fifteen bucks because it had "John Mayer" on it and you vaguely remembered Jungkook had a vinyl wall with what looked like Mayer albums.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. 

Now, you're not so sure.

But it's not like you have any alternatives, and you did promise him a gift, so...

You grab the bag and head back out, careful not to make eye contact. You have no idea why you're suddenly nervous about this. It's just a vinyl. Probably one he already has. No big deal either way.

"Here," you say, thrusting the paper bag toward him.

He quirks an eyebrow, clearly puzzled by the plainness of your offering. 

What was he expecting? A fucking gift-wrapped Ferrari?

He sets Griffin down carefully on the armchair before taking the bag from you. The cat immediately curls into a perfect circle, clearly untroubled by whatever had sent him into hysterics five minutes ago.

Jungkook pulls the vinyl from the bag with deliberate slowness, like he's trying to extend the suspense. A small smile forms on his lips when he sees it's a record, but then—

His face contorts into an expression you can't begin to interpret. 

It's like watching someone cycle through all five stages of grief in under five seconds, ending on some emotion that looks like he might either laugh hysterically or have a stroke.

Your stomach drops. Fuck. You knew it. He already has it. Or worse, he hates this album. 

Great going, genius. You had one job.

"Nix," he starts, his voice strangled.

"It's fine," you interject quickly, already looking away and biting your lip. "I mean, if you already—"

"Phoenix."

Something in the way he says your nickname—your full nickname, not the shortened version—makes you reluctantly look back at him.

He's not... mad. Or disgusted. Or disappointed. 

If anything, he looks... stunned? 

His eyes are practically twinkling, like you just handed him the fucking Holy Grail instead of a dusty old record.

"Where the fuck..." he starts, then shakes his head slightly. "Where the fuck did you get this, Nix?"

You blink, caught off guard by his reaction.

"I—a girl has her secrets," you mumble, because no way in hell are you admitting you found it in a five-dollar bin at a flea market.

"This is Inside Wants Out," he says, staring at the record like it might vanish if he blinks.

"Yup. That's what it says," you confirm, pointing unnecessarily at the album title clearly printed on the cover.

Like, yeah. Thanks for confirming he can read. At least he’s not that stupid. 

"It's John Mayer, right...? I thought... I mean since your whole vinyl wall is mostly—"

"This is Inside Wants Out," he repeats, more emphatically this time, like you're not getting the significance.

You nod slowly. "Yeah... I heard you the first time."

"Do you know how hard it is to get this shit, Nix?" His eyes are still wide with disbelief. "This is a collector's item."

Oh.

Oh wow.

Oh fuck.

You didn't mean to give him something with actual significance. You were just trying to not completely fail at basic gift-giving. But now he's looking at you like you just casually handed him a winning lottery ticket, and you have no idea how to respond.

"I mean... I knew you'd appreciate it," you lie smoothly, like you totally knew what you were doing. "You seem like the type to be into the rare stuff."

His eyes narrow slightly, like he's not entirely buying your sudden expertise in John Mayer collectibles, but he's too excited about the record to push it.

"It was his first EP," he explains, still handling the vinyl like it might explode. "Self-released in '99, before he got signed. There were only like a thousand copies ever pressed, and they never reissued it on vinyl."

"Oh," you say eloquently. "Cool."

"Cool?" 

He laughs, the sound both incredulous and delighted. 

"Nix, this thing goes for like three hundred dollars on eBay if you can even find one. How did you—" He cuts himself off, shaking his head again. "You know what, never mind. I don't even want to know. Just... thank you."

Three hundred dollars? 

You almost choke. The grimy old man at the flea market had sold it to you for fifteen bucks, and even then, you'd thought you were overpaying.

Holy shit. You accidentally gave Jungkook the perfect gift.

You're still processing this bizarre turn of events when he does something even more unexpected. He steps forward and hugs you—a quick, one-armed embrace that's over almost before it begins, but still manages to short-circuit your brain for a solid three seconds.

"Seriously," he says, already stepping back. "This is... thank you."

"I—yeah, of course," you manage, still off-balance from the sudden contact. "Happy birthday or whatever."

He grins, already carefully examining the record sleeve for any damage. 

"Or whatever," he echoes, but there's no mockery in it. 

Just warmth.

A warmth that makes something in your chest twist in a way you don't want to examine too closely.

Jungkook flips the vinyl over in his hands, tracing the track listing with his finger. 

"I started collecting his stuff in high school," he says, voice softer than usual. "Everyone gives him shit, you know? Like he's this basic white dude music or whatever."

"Isn't he, though?" You can't help asking, even as you drift closer to the couch instead of retreating to your room like you'd planned.

He looks up at you, expression caught between offense and amusement. "That's what everyone thinks. But his guitar work? Seriously underrated. The guy's technically insane."

You perch on the arm of the couch, watching as he continues examining the record. 

“So you're into him for the... technical aspects?"

"Partly." Jungkook shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. "But honestly? His music just hits sometimes, you know? Like when you're driving at night with the windows down, or when you just need to chill and not think for a while."

"Didn't take you for the introspective type."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Phee," he says, but it's not a challenge or a flirtation. Just a simple statement of fact.

"Like what?"

He looks surprised you asked, like he expected you to roll your eyes and walk away. 

After a moment's hesitation, he gestures toward his bedroom. 

“I've got every vinyl he's released. Started with Continuum when I was fifteen..." He trails off, then shakes his head slightly. "Anyway, been collecting ever since."

You’re not sure whether he wants you to ask, or doesn’t want to overshare. So to play it safe, you don’t dig.

Instead, you find yourself saying, "My dad's obsessed with him."

Now it's your turn to be surprised—by your own admission. Because you hadn't planned to share that.

Jungkook's eyebrows lift. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you confirm, suddenly interested in a loose thread on your sleeve. "Used to play his albums constantly during gardening weekends. My mom would pretend to hate it, but I'd catch her humming along when she thought no one was listening."

"Gardening weekends?"

"Mandatory family bonding," you explain, the memory both distant and vivid. "Every other Saturday in spring and summer. Dad would handle the heavy stuff, Mom did the flowers, and I was on weed duty."

"Weed duty," Jungkook repeats, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Like, you grew pot with your parents? Damn, Nix, I had you all wrong."

You roll your eyes, but you're fighting a smile too. "Garden weeds, dumbass. The actual nuisance plants."

"So what? You'd all be out there pulling weeds while John Mayer serenaded you from a boombox?"

"Something like that," you say, the mental image so accurate it catches you off guard. "How'd you know about the boombox?"

"Dads and boomboxes go together like peanut butter and jelly," he says with authority. "It's basic dad culture."

"Fair point." You hesitate, then add, "He had this super old one. Battery-operated, because the garden was too far from the house for an extension cord. The sound quality was garbage, but he refused to upgrade. Said it had 'character.'"

Jungkook smiles at that, a genuine one that reaches his eyes. "Sounds like my kind of guy."

"You'd hate each other," you say automatically, but then consider it. "Actually, no. You'd probably bond over guitar shit and expensive coffee, and it would be absolutely insufferable for everyone else."

"I'm great with parents," he protests. "They love me."

"That's because they don't have to live with you."

He gasps in offense. "What? Come on, living with me is the best experience ever.”

"So now ‘best experience ever’ is you eating my leftovers and folding your briefs on the entrance table?”

"And mind-blowing sex," he adds, because of course he does. "Don't forget that part."

"And we're done here," you announce, standing up from the couch arm. 

"Wait," he says, surprising you again. "What was your favorite song? From those gardening days, I mean."

You pause, considering whether to answer. It feels oddly personal, sharing music taste with Jungkook. More intimate somehow than the physical stuff you've done together.

But he's looking at you with genuine curiosity, still cradling the vinyl you gave him like it's something precious, and you find yourself responding before you can overthink it.

"'Slow Dancing in a Burning Room,'" you admit, the memory rising unbidden. "Not off that album, obviously, but it was on Continuum."

“Really? I wouldn't have pegged you for that one."

"Well, I wasn't exactly vibing with the lyrics at age ten," you say, defensive without knowing why. "It just... reminds me of my mom."

"Your mom was into songs about dysfunctional relationships?"

"No, dumbass." 

You take a breath, weighing whether to elaborate. 

Fuck it. 

“There was this one time, we were gardening, and it started raining—like, suddenly pouring. Dad ran inside with the boombox, but Mom just... stayed out there. And I did too."

Jungkook's watching you intently now, the vinyl temporarily forgotten in his hands.

"That song was playing right before the rain started," you continue, eyes fixed on that loose thread again. "And when Dad got inside, he must have put the song on again inside the house, because we could hear it through the open windows. Mom just... started dancing. In the rain. And she pulled me in, and we were spinning around like idiots, getting completely soaked, while Dad watched from the porch and pretended to be embarrassed by us."

You risk a glance at Jungkook and find him smiling softly.

"What?" you demand.

"Nothing," he says, but his smile doesn't fade. "Just... that's a really good memory. I like that it wasn't some deep angsty reason. Just your mom being cool."

"She wasn't always," you say before you can stop yourself. "Cool, I mean. But she had her moments."

A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind you didn't think was possible with Jungkook. He's still looking at you with that soft expression, and you find yourself continuing without really meaning to.

“Anyway,” you say, desperate to lighten the sudden heaviness between you. “I like sad songs and thunderstorms. Shocking revelation about the English major, I know.”

His mouth curves into a smile, but it’s gentler than his usual smirk. 

“I know you like thunderstorms.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he nods, setting the vinyl aside with careful hands. “Remember the first time we hooked up in this apartment? There was a storm outside.”

“How do you remember that?”

He shrugs, casual, unbothered.

Like it doesn’t cost him anything at all to reveal he keeps details in mind or cares. 

“You were curled up in that bean bag by the window, watching the rain like it was telling you secrets. All broody and intense. Very on-brand.”

“I wasn’t broody,” you protest automatically.

“You were staring at a lightning storm. The only way you could’ve been broodier is if you were wearing fingerless gloves and listening to The Cure.”

You throw a decorative pillow at his head, which he catches easily. “Fuck off, I don’t even own fingerless gloves.”

“Yet,” he adds with a grin. “There’s still time, though. Hot Topic’s having a sale.”

You flip him off, but you’re smiling despite yourself.

“I just like storms, okay? They’re… honest.”

“Honest?” He raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely curious.

You struggle to articulate something you’ve never had to put into words before. 

“Yeah, like… they don’t pretend to be anything other than what they are. They’re loud and chaotic and messy, and they don’t apologize for it.”

“Huh,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “Never thought about it like that.”

“Plus,” you add, tone deliberately lighter, “they smell good.”

“Yeah I guess they do,” he agrees, and for some reason, this tiny point of connection feels significant.

“You smell like rain,” you say, the words slipping out before your brain can catch up with your mouth.

“Huh?” he looks at you, confusion replacing his easy smile.

“I mean,” you backtrack, suddenly feeling stupid, “you’re always saying I smell like vanilla and stuff. And you really like vanilla, right? With your vanilla extract flask or whatever. Well, you smell like rain. At least to me. I really like rain. That’s all.”

There’s a moment of silence, just long enough for you to start mentally calculating how quickly you could fake your own death and flee the country.

“I smell like rain,” he repeats, expression unreadable.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say quickly. “Just an observation. Like how Yoongi smells like coffee and disappointment.”

He laughs at that, breaking the weird tension. “That’s… oddly accurate.”

“I’m very accurate,” you say with mock seriousness. “My superpower.”

And… why exactly are you quoting him? That’s exactly what he said in the subway.

And you said it without thinking. 

“Well,” he says, not catching onto that or at least not making it about that; leaning back into the couch cushions, “for what it’s worth, I’m glad I don’t smell like disappointment. Rain is definitely the better option.”

“Don’t get too excited. I didn’t say you smell good,” you lie, because of course he smells good, the bastard. “Just like rain.”

“Uh-huh.” His smile is knowing, infuriating. “You literally just said you really like rain, though.”

“I changed my mind. Rain is overrated.”

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

Griffin chooses that moment to stretch dramatically on the armchair, reminding you both of his presence. The cat yawns widely, showing tiny needle teeth, before resettling into an even tighter ball.

“Anyway,” you say, seizing the opportunity to change the subject, “your cat is still a menace, even if he has good timing.”

“The best timing,” Jungkook agrees, reaching over to scratch behind Griffin’s ears. “Though I still don’t know what set him off earlier.”

“Maybe he sensed a disturbance in the force.”

“Maybe he just missed me,” Jungkook suggests, and the sad thing is, he’s probably right. Griffin is ridiculously attached to him, like some kind of orange, furry shadow.

“Cats don’t miss people,” you argue, just to be contrary. “They’re cold-blooded killers who tolerate humans because we operate can openers.”

“Griffin misses me,” he insists, stroking the cat’s back. “Don’t you, buddy? Tell Phoenix how much you missed your dad.”

Griffin blinks slowly in response, which Jungkook apparently interprets as agreement. 

“See? He says he was devastated by my absence.”

“He says he’s plotting to kill us both in our sleep,” you counter.

“Nah, he only does that to people who don’t bring him treats. Speaking of which…” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small packet of cat treats, shaking a few onto his palm.

Griffin is suddenly wide awake, lunging for the offering with surprising agility for a creature that was seemingly comatose two seconds ago.

“You carry cat treats in your pocket?” you ask, incredulous. “To a club? To a karaoke bar?”

“Always be prepared,” he says solemnly, as if quoting some ancient cat-owner wisdom. “Besides, Griffin can sense when I don’t have them.”

“Your relationship with this cat is genuinely concerning.”

“Says the person who talks to him when she thinks no one’s listening.” He smirks at your surprised expression. “Yeah, I’ve heard you. ‘Who’s a little murder machine? Is it you? Yes it is.’”

You feel your cheeks warm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You baby-talk my cat, Phoenix. Just admit it.”

“I do not baby-talk—”

Your phone chimes with a text notification, cutting off what would have undoubtedly been a brilliant denial. 

You move towards the entryway, where you'd left your purse on the table, and reach to look for your phone, when suddenly—

Oh. 

The DIY bracelets. Right.

You'd left them at the shop at first for that contribution project Ash had talked about, but then... something had pinched at you when Jungkook mentioned having one similar as a kid. 

How it reminded him of his mom.

And now that you're talking about mourning a mom that you still have alive, because the mom from your memories often differs from the one who exists now... it feels like the right moment. Like maybe these stupid friendship bracelets aren't just arts and crafts bullshit but something that might actually mean something.

Fuck, that's corny. You're being corny right now. This is what happens when you let your guard down for five seconds around Jungkook—suddenly you're having feelings and shit. Gross.

But your fingers are already closing around the bracelets. 

You're impulsive like that. Always have been. Jump first, think later. It's gotten you into trouble more times than you can count, but occasionally—very occasionally—it works out.

You slip them into your fist, hiding them behind your back as you walk slowly toward Jungkook. He's still standing there, watching you with that half-curious, half-amused expression that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and—

"Hmm? What's up, Phoenix?" he asks, eyebrows lifting slightly when he notices your hands hidden behind your back.

"Nothing," you say, too quickly.

His eyes narrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“What's that?" He takes a step closer, trying to peek around you. "You hiding something?"

"No," you lie, taking a step back. "Mind your business."

"You're being weird," he says, his smirk widening into a full-on grin. "What is it? A love letter? Secret diary? Embarrassing photos of you in middle school with braces?"

"I never had braces," you retort, still backing up as he advances. "And it's nothing, so back off."

"If it's nothing, why are you hiding it?" He lunges suddenly, trying to grab at your hands, but you twist away, nearly knocking over a lamp in the process.

"Jungkook, I swear to god—"

"Come on, just show me!" He's laughing now, the asshole, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "What's so secret that you can't—"

He makes another grab, and this time his fingers catch your wrist. You try to pull away, but he's stronger than you, the jerk, and before you can stop him, he's pried your fingers open.

The bracelets fall into his palm.

His laughter cuts off abruptly. 

He stares down at them, then back up at you, his expression shifting to something you can't quite read. 

His eyes go all soft and wide, like some anime character or something, and it makes your forsaken insides twist.

"How?" he asks, voice quieter than before. "I thought we left these at the shop."

You look to the side, feeling heat crawl up your neck. 

This is so fucking embarrassing. 

It's just bracelets. 

Stupid, childish bracelets that shouldn't mean anything.

"When I came back to get my phone, I..." You trail off, not sure how to explain without sounding like a complete sap. "I saw them and I just..."

You shut up, because what are you supposed to say? That you couldn't stand the thought of leaving them behind? That something about his face when he talked about his mom's bracelet made you want to give him this small piece of today?

He seems to understand anyway, nodding slowly as he looks down at the bracelets again. 

"Thanks," he says, and it's so genuine it makes you uncomfortable.

He holds them for a moment longer, then asks, "Can I?" gesturing toward your wrist.

You extend your arm automatically, then realize what he's doing as he fumbles with the clasp of the Phoenix bracelet.

"No, let me wear the Rogue one," you say quickly.

He pauses, brows furrowing. "But I am Rogue."

"Well, you said you didn't want to wear a bracelet calling you 'Rogue,'" you point out, "so... might as well wear the Rogue one myself and you wear the Phoenix one."

A slow smile spreads across his face, like what you've just said makes perfect sense instead of being the most backward logic ever. 

And with a soft, delicate breath he says:

“Deal."

His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens the Rogue bracelet around your wrist. You try not to react, but your pulse quickens traitorously beneath his fingertips.

When he's done, you take the Phoenix bracelet from him, gesturing for his wrist. He extends it without hesitation, and you're struck by how much larger his hand is than yours, how warm his skin feels beneath your fingers as you fumble with the clasp.

"There," you say, pulling away quickly once it's secured. "Now we're even."

"Even," he echoes, looking down at the bracelet on his wrist, the fiery beads catching the light. "I guess we are."

You stare at the bracelet on your wrist for a few seconds, the beads catching the dim light of your apartment living room. Your eyes flicker up to his wrist—he's doing the same thing, turning his arm slightly to inspect his newly acquired accessory like he's never seen a fucking bracelet before. 

His eyes catch yours, and you can't help asking, "You gonna wear it?"

He rotates his wrist, watching how the beads interact with the light. 

“Maybe." The corner of his mouth twitches. "I don't know, does it fit my vibe?"

Is he serious right now? 

You deadpan him, staring straight into his eyes without blinking.

He can't help but snort, his shoulders shaking slightly. "That's a no, then?"

"Whatever," you say, waving your hand dismissively. "You don't need to wear it. It's a silly thing anyway." 

And it is. Just a stupid arts and crafts project you made while trying to keep him busy for his birthday party. 

No big deal if he tosses it in a drawer and forgets about it. Literally could not care less.

"Nah, it's cool," he says, examining it again. "Kind of tacky, but in a fun way."

He looks back at you when you stare in silence too long. 

"What about you?"

"Huh?" You blink, caught off-guard.

"Are you gonna wear yours?" He gestures toward your wrist with his chin.

"I don't know." You twist the beads around your wrist, acting like you're still deciding. "It's not like I want people to know I have friendship bracelet gay shit with you."

He snorts, rolling his eyes. "Right, I had forgotten what I'm gonna say when people ask what 'PHOENIX' means."

Your eyes flicker back to him, side-eyeing him suspiciously. "What would you say?"

"Maybe I should tell them it's from my roommate," he says, tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Who rose from the ashes and all that. Like some kind of angry, book-obsessed firebird."

"Don't you dare talk about me like that!" You immediately shove at his shoulder, scowling. "Oh my god."

He sidesteps your attack, continuing, "—into this majestic creature who's deep down probably not plotting to murder me in my sleep—"

"I swear to god," you lunge at him again, "if you say that cringy shit about me to anyone—"

"—and who secretly loves making friendship bracelets—"

"I will end you," you threaten, trying to grab his arm while he deftly avoids your attempts. The audacity of this asshole. "I will literally smother you with a pillow."

"—and wearing them too!" He's full-on laughing now, dodging around the coffee table. "The bracelet represents how we've evolved from mortal enemies to... slightly less mortal enemies."

"That's it." You grab a throw pillow from the couch and hurl it at his head. "You're dead to me."

He catches the pillow easily, still grinning like an idiot. "Aw, come on, Nix. Embrace your phoenix identity. Like the bird, you too have emerged from—"

"If you say 'ashes' one more time," you threaten, grabbing another pillow, "I will personally ensure you become some."

"Violent," he comments, raising his eyebrows. "And after I accepted your little craft project."

"It's not a—" 

You start to protest, then stop yourself. 

What the hell would you call it?

"Whatever. It's just a bracelet."

"A bracelet of tolerance," he suggests, his eyes dancing with amusement. "At best."

"Exactly," you say, oddly annoyed that he's stolen your line. "A bracelet of 'you're still annoying as fuck but occasionally tolerable.'"

"A bracelet of 'we haven't killed each other yet, which is honestly impressive,'" he offers.

"A bracelet of 'the apartment lease says I can't legally push you off the balcony,'" you suggest.

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Cool. I'll take it."

"Don't make it weird," you mutter, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the direction this conversation has taken. Why is he being almost... nice? "It's just a stupid bracelet I accidentally made while you were trying to avoid talking about your Instagram."

"Right," he nods, tapping the beads against the table. "Just like how you 'accidentally' bought me a super rare vinyl."

"Shut up."

"Never," he says, shifting Griffin to make room on the armchair. "So, this means you're warming up to me, huh? All it took was some karaoke and a rooftop heart-to-heart."

"I already told you we'll see," you remind him, rolling your eyes. "Don't push it, Rogue."

"Fine, fine," he holds up his hands in surrender. "Just saying, the evidence is mounting."

"What evidence?"

He starts counting off on his fingers. "One, you made me a bracelet. Two, you bought me a vinyl. Three, you didn't ditch me at my own birthday thing. Four, you haven't tried to poison my coffee in at least three days."

"That you know of," you counter, but you can feel the corner of your mouth twitching traitorously.

"See? You're not even denying it," he says, pointing at you triumphantly. "Face it, Phee. You tolerate me."

"The bare minimum bar for human interaction. Congratulations."

Griffin chooses that moment to let out a pathetically dramatic meow, clearly offended that he's no longer the center of attention.

"Someone's jealous," Jungkook immediately turns to scratch his cat under the chin. "Don't worry, G, you'll always be my number one roommate."

You roll your eyes. "Great, I've been demoted behind the cat."

"He doesn't leave wet teabags in the sink," Jungkook points out.

"He literally shits in a box in our bathroom."

"Yeah, but at least he covers it up."

"I'm not having this argument," you declare, standing up from the couch. It's late, you're tired, and this whole day has been weird enough already. "I'm going to bed."

"Night, Nix," he says, voice softer than his usual teasing tone.

"Night, Rogue," you reply, hesitating for just a moment too long before adding, "Happy birthday. Again."

He smiles—that same genuine smile from before. "Thanks. For everything."

"Don't get used to it," you warn, already backing toward your bedroom. "Tomorrow I go back to hating your guts."

"Looking forward to it," he calls after you, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You close your bedroom door a bit harder than necessary, but you're smiling as you do it. And if your fingers brush against the beads on your wrist as you change into your pajamas, well, that's nobody's business but yours.

It's just a bracelet. Whatever.

goal: 650 notes. can’t believe how quickly kiki nation got the goals back, you guys are amazing and unhinged. 😭❤️‍🩹

if you liked this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee!! ♡'･ᴗ･'♡ https://ko-fi.com/jungkoode

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @jkrailme @rpwprpwprpwprw @mar-lo-pap @jeontae @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex @minniejim @btstrology @vialattea00 @curse-of-art @mellyyyyyyx @mimi1097 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @dltyum

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[youthguk]

Entropy: Collapse (Finale) | jjk (m)

College AU | Fuckboy Jungkook x Physics Student Y/N 

“The universe tends toward chaos.”

You said it was just sex. But gravity doesn’t stop pulling — and entropy always ends in collapse.

genre: smut, college AU, fuckboy!jungkook, explicit sexual content, strong language

Wc: 10k

part 1 here (!!!) your feedback means the world to me. 🖤

You’ve spent the past four hours staring at the same simulation code, and the red blinking cursor feels more like a threat than a prompt. Your desk lamp is the only light on in the room, casting long shadows over textbooks, half-drunk tea, and the wrinkled copy of your research grant application — still unsigned, still mocking you with possibility.

It's one forty-seven a.m., the kind of hour that strips everything quiet, even your thoughts. The sky outside is the color of unfinished ink, and the campus streets below are empty. No movement. No noise. Just the occasional flicker of a hallway light going out down the corridor — dormitory entropy, in real time.

You rub your eyes and stretch your neck, but nothing shifts. Not the physics paper. Not the persistent heat blooming in your stomach. Not the memory of how his voice rasped when he told you to open wider. Five days have passed since Jeon Jungkook's last text.

Well — not since you left him hard in the TA room, lips bitten raw and pants around his thighs, after whispering “Don’t think this means anything.”

Your phone lights up with his name again - no message this time. He's already sent plenty that you've left unanswered, filling your notifications with desperate attempts at connection.

Something tugs at you, an invisible force as real as gravity. Your hand moves toward the phone with the careful slowness of someone trying not to startle fate. Each moment feels weighted with possibility, with the kind of weakness that threatens to become something more significant.

Without responding to his messages, you press call. The phone rings twice before his sleep-rough voice answers, "...Y/N?"

That sound - deep, warm, familiar in the worst way - hits you like a collapsing wave. You lean back, eyes closed, phone pressed to your ear. "Are you alone?"

A pause. "Yeah."

Your voice softens instinctively. "I'm in bed."

Through the speaker, sheets rustle. "Are you okay?"

"I can't stop thinking about that night."

His exhale trembles. "Baby..." The word slips past his pride. "I've been going crazy."

You wish you could stop, wish you could call this a mistake, but the moment has already consumed you. "I've been touching myself."

A guttural groan tears from his chest. You picture his hand flying beneath the sheets, his cock hardening as your thighs press together. "Fuck," he rasps. "Tell me what you're doing. Please—"

The leather chair squeaks as you shift, fingers trailing over your sleep shorts. "My hand's already there. I'm so wet, Jungkook."

His moan fills the line. "Are you rubbing your clit?"

"Mhm..."

"Slow?"

"Not slow enough."

His rhythm becomes clear through the phone - his ragged breathing, rustling fabric, the unmistakable sound of him stroking himself. You picture his tattooed hand wrapped tight around his cock, eyes closed, lips parted.

"Fuck, I wish I was there. I'd spread you open, use my mouth until you begged."

"I don't beg."

"You did," he growls. "You do."

Your breath catches as your fingers quicken, hips rolling toward something forbidden. "You'd fuck me slow first, wouldn't you? Just to tease."

His groan sounds pained. "Yes. God, yes. I'd make you come on my cock until you forget your name."

"Too late."

His laugh comes broken, winded. "God, you're unreal."

Your soft moan makes his rhythm falter. "Don't stop," he gasps. "Please, baby—talk to me—don't stop—"

You let him drown in your breathing, in the slick sounds of your movements, let him believe you're about to unravel. Then you pull away, letting silence fill the void.

"Y/N?" His voice comes breathless.

"I have to go," you whisper. "Goodnight."

"Wait—"

The call ends before he can finish. You stare at the dark screen, pulse still hammering between your legs, throat dry and cheeks burning. Somewhere in his room, he's still hard, still aching, still alone.

Without smiling, you let your head fall back and whisper to the ceiling, "Thermodynamics never warned me about this kind of heat."

The phone is face-down on the desk now, like it’s guilty. Your hand is still sticky with want. Your heart still beats faster than it should. But the room is quiet again — painfully, cruelly quiet. As if nothing just happened. As if you didn’t just break your own rules for the fifth time in two weeks.

You don’t move. You just sit in the stillness, surrounded by half-solved equations and the low hum of your old desk lamp. Your body is flushed and your mind is disgustingly awake.

The post-call static crackles louder than it should in your ears. What the hell are you doing? This wasn’t supposed to be anything.

Jeon Jungkook was entropy incarnate — hot and careless and untouchable. A beautiful disaster contained in perfect muscle memory. A reputation in motion. You were supposed to observe him like any other chaotic system: from a distance, with your hands behind your back and your lab coat on.

But now? Now you’re one of his goddamn data points. You swipe your tongue across your lips, still tasting the desperation in your own voice. He sounded wrecked. And the worst part? You liked it.

You liked knowing you could pull him apart with a few words. You liked the way his breath shook when he said your name. You liked the way you made him beg, even when you were the one unraveling.

The thrill of power over him was intoxicating, but that only made it worse. Your control slipped too easily when his voice came through the line - low and desperate, cock in hand, saying things that made your breath catch. He spoke like you were his whole universe, the only constant worth orbiting, and that terrified you.

With guilt tightening your spine, you push back from the desk and stand. This is exactly why you don't let yourself get attached. This is why you insisted it was nothing more than sex.

Because you can’t afford to lose focus. Not now. Not when you’re a finalist for the CERN summer rotation, when your advisor just asked for your draft proposal, when your whole future has to be measured in unit conversions and GPA decimals. And Jungkook? He doesn’t fit into the equation. He’s not a constant. He’s not a vector. He’s not even a variable. He’s the error term — the chaotic, unpredictable, heat-inducing mistake that corrupts the entire model. The kind of anomaly your professors warned you about.

And still, the memory of his moan echoes in your mind - that raw, strangled "baby" when you confessed your hand was between your thighs. Your knees buckle and you collapse face-down into your pillow, groaning into cotton.

You make the same promises you always do: You'll delete his number tomorrow. You'll end it properly next time. You'll mean it when you say it's over.

Because you are not a girl who gets off to old mistakes. And even thought entropy is inevitable — collapse is still a choice.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The campus courtyard is flooded with late-morning sunlight, the kind that turns everything golden and too warm, like the world’s trying to trick you into slowing down. You don’t. Your sneakers hit pavement with the same clipped rhythm they always do — fast, focused, efficient. A girl with a purpose.

There’s a coffee cup in one hand, a folder clutched to your chest, and your headphones are in — not for music, just for armor. Physics department office hours, then lab, then TA prep. No room for detours. No reason to look anywhere but straight ahead.

And yet, something catches your attention - his laugh. That low, boyish sound you've memorized despite yourself. Your steps falter slightly as your eyes find him: Jeon Jungkook.

Back leaned casually against the stone column outside the business department, one ankle crossed over the other, sleeves rolled up to his elbows like the heat doesn’t dare touch him. Two girls are perched far too close on either side of him, their voices high and coy, like everything they say is an invitation. One twirls a strand of hair around her finger. The other leans in, whispering something near his ear.

His smile is polite but distracted - his eyes are fixed solely on you. The moment your gazes meet, you freeze, blood rushing through your veins as your mouth fills with the bitter taste of caffeine and regret. He's not doing anything extraordinary, just standing there, yet the air seems to bend around him like he's become the center of gravity itself.

The sunlight catches him perfectly - illuminating his golden skin, the intricate tattoos peeking from beneath his shirt cuff, the silver ring glinting as he absently brushes hair from his face. You despise how vividly you remember those fingers against your skin, how he's the only one who's ever made you come undone with just his voice through a phone, making you feel completely his.

When his expression shifts into a subtle frown, hurt evident in the slight crease of his brow, you immediately drop your gaze. Without hesitation, you continue walking, shoulders squared and headphones suddenly deafening despite their silence. Behind you, Jungkook pushes away from the column, his eyes tracking your retreat until you vanish behind the admin building.

The girl beside him notices, nudging his arm with a pout. "Who's that? She looked... intense."

He doesn't answer, because only one thought consumes him: She saw me. And looked away like I never happened.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The seminar room smells like chalk dust, overripe fruit from someone’s lunchbox, and too many minds running on too little sleep. Fluorescent lights hum overhead. Your pen taps lightly against your knee, bouncing in rhythm with the low buzz of voices filling the space before the professor arrives.

You’re early. As always. You’ve got your notes laid out like a defense line: printed equations, a crisp copy of the grant rubric, your half-drafted proposal for the summer placement. It’s the kind of prep that should settle your nerves, that should root you in facts and numbers and control.

But exhaustion weighs heavy, and your mind wanders to dangerous territory - his voice still echoing in your ears. Please, baby—talk to me—don't stop

Behind you, two girls slip into their seats, their laughter cutting through your thoughts.

"God, he's such a slut," one says, voice dripping with disdain.

"Who?" her friend asks absently.

"Jeon Jungkook. I swear if I see him flirting with another freshman outside the business library again..."

"He doesn't even try," the other scoffs. "Girls just throw themselves at him like they want their lives ruined."

Their gossip continues - something about a chemistry student with green hair, an economics major who fell off a table. Their words blur together as you stare at your notes, at the clean columns of formulas. ΔS = ΔQ/T. Entropy as heat divided by temperature. Order, motion, equations - these should be your constants.

But your stomach twists as memories flood back unbidden: your knees on his bedroom floor two weeks ago, his fingers teasing you under a library table while Newton's third law lay forgotten, his name on your lips just last night as aftershocks rippled through you.

They don't know. They shouldn't know. This was meant to be meaningless - for both of you. You were supposed to be different, just an anomaly in his system, a temporary spike in temperature. Yet here you are, his touch branded into your skin, his name still burning on your tongue.

When the professor walks in, you force yourself to focus on the equations before you, ignoring how your throat constricts and your hand trembles around your pen.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The air outside the lab building is heavy with spring. Not fresh — just close. Like something’s about to happen, but hasn’t yet. The sky’s turned white with too much light, and your skin feels a few degrees too warm as you step outside, research proposal folder pressed tight to your chest.

You need coffee. You need silence. You need distance from the way your body still pulses whenever you remember his voice on the phone.

Your heart stops when you spot him on the ledge near the back entrance. Jungkook lounges there with deceptive casualness - one foot propped on the low wall, black ball cap shadowing his face, fingers toying with his hoodie drawstrings. Though his posture seems relaxed, you know he's been waiting. Your stomach sinks as reality settles in.

A futile glance over your shoulder confirms this isn't your imagination. His eyes lock onto yours, and there's no escape.

And for a split second, his face breaks open like light through cloud cover — too fast, too warm. He stands up.

“Y/N.”

You continue walking, but he matches your stride, undeterred.

Keeping your eyes fixed ahead, you barely acknowledge his soft "hey" with a slight nod.

“Didn’t think I’d see you outside a textbook this week.”

You huff out a dry sound that might pass for a laugh. “I’m busy.”

He falls into step beside you. His hands are in his hoodie pockets. You can feel the heat coming off him like a small sun — too close, too real.

“You always say that,” he says, trying to joke. “Even when you’re coming on my—”

“Don’t.” The words come out too fast, too sharp. He falls silent as they continue walking, the tension between them thick enough to slice through.

When he finally speaks again, his voice is lower, gentler: "Hey... about the other night..."

You pause mid-step, refusing to meet his gaze. "There is no other night," you say coldly. "There was nothing."

He flinches as if struck, and you continue walking, leaving him behind.

And before he can recover enough to respond, you’ve already pushed through the glass doors of the research wing and disappeared into the building.

Behind you, Jungkook stands frozen in the courtyard, lips parted, jaw tightening.

He watches the door for a full ten seconds before muttering to no one, “…yeah. Fucking nothing.”

You don't stop walking until you're inside the stairwell, out of sight, out of breath.

Your fingers are white-knuckled around the folder. You hate that your hands are shaking. You hate that your heart is doing that thing again — the stuttering thing, like you just sprinted across a field when all you did was stand in his shadow for sixty seconds.

There was nothing. The words left your mouth with practiced ease, rehearsed like a formula you'd memorized. They should have felt precise and clinical - a clean incision to excise what had grown between you. Instead, the declaration burned like touching a live wire, leaving aftershocks that refused to fade.

The cool wall against your back offered little comfort as you tried to steady your breathing. His appearance had shattered your careful equations - that smile that hinted at shared secrets, that look that suggested you still held meaning. You'd convinced yourself he was forgettable, reduced him to simple physics: just impulse, just friction. But one glance was enough to resurrect every memory of his touch, every place his mouth had mapped your skin.

What twisted deepest was the hope in his eyes - that earnest belief that you might want conversation, that you hadn't truly relegated him to past tense. You pressed your knuckles to your lips, drinking in oxygen like it could douse the ember in your chest. You'd told him there was nothing, but your body betrayed you with every quickened heartbeat, every nerve ending crying out for more.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The third floor of the physics library holds a particular kind of silence - tense and punishing, where even the slightest sound draws sharp glares from focused grad students and ambitious TAs. Usually, this atmosphere helps clear your mind, but today the quiet only amplifies your thoughts.

From your favorite corner cubicle, you stare at your open laptop and notebook, equations sprawling across the pages in messy trails. The grant deadline looms just three days away, but instead of focusing on formulas, your mind keeps drifting to Jungkook's expression when you dismissed what was between you - not angry or smug, just wounded in a way that makes your chest ache.

You shift in your seat, grateful for the comfort of your loose sweater and short black skirt, hair clipped back carelessly. Relief should come easily after ending things, but your body betrays you - thighs pressed together, fingers twitching with muscle memory of threading through his hair.

The soft scrape of a chair breaks your reverie. An iced Americano appears at your elbow, condensation beading on the plastic, and your breath catches as Jungkook settles across from you uninvited. He's wearing a hoodie and black cap, a light sheen of sweat suggesting he rushed here. When his eyes meet yours, the silence between you grows thick with unspoken words.

He just nods once toward the drink. “You look like you needed it.”

Your jaw tightens. “Don’t.”

He raises his palms, surrendering. “Just being nice.”

You remain silent, knowing you should tell him to leave but finding yourself unable to form the words. Returning to your notes proves futile as the numbers blur together, his presence impossible to ignore. His leg brushes against yours under the table once, then again. Though you shift away slightly, you don't completely break the contact.

He leans in, his voice low, soft as static. “You don’t have to say anything.”

You blink slowly. “Then why are you here?”

He shrugs, lips curling into something unreadable. “You’re the only person who’s ever made me come from a phone call.”

Heat floods your cheeks. “I was alone.”

“You didn’t sound alone.”

You glance at him, sharply. But he’s not teasing. His gaze drops to your lips.

“I keep thinking about the way you sounded. Like you were trying not to moan.”

His voice dips lower. “Like you wanted me to beg.”

Your mouth is dry. “That’s not—”

His hand moves beneath the table, landing on your knee with deliberate intent. You freeze as he speaks in a low, steady voice: "Tell me to stop and I will." His fingers trace upward along your thigh in a slow caress, and though you know you should stop him, the words catch in your throat. His touch continues its path until he reaches the heat between your legs, pausing just shy of where you need him most. You can feel the warmth of his skin hovering there like a promise, and your body betrays you - already wet, wanting, yearning for more.

“I knew it,” Jungkook whispers, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. “I fucking knew it.”

Then he touches you. A single stroke through your folds — not too hard, not too soft — just enough pressure to make your back lift a half inch from your chair. You suck in a breath. Sharp. Audible.He doesn’t stop.

His fingers slide through your slick again, this time slower, almost reverent, parting your folds like he’s learning them from scratch. His middle finger circles your clit, not quite touching it directly — just close enough to make your thighs tremble.

“You shaved for me?” he murmurs, voice low and filthy. “Came to study like this?”

Words fail you, conscious thought evaporating at his touch. Because just then, he pushes two fingers inside you. You bite your fist, hard.

The stretch is immediate. The way his fingers hook — upward, firm, unrelenting — makes your eyes roll back. You clench around him, wet and hot and embarrassingly ready, and he groans low under his breath like he feels it in his spine.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He starts moving — slow at first. A careful pump. Testing. Feeling how you open for him. His thumb brushes your clit, and your thighs jerk again. The table shakes slightly. You dig your heel into the floor to ground yourself, but it’s useless. He has you.

Every curl of his fingers finds that same spot inside you — the one that makes your knees want to give out.

Every stroke deeper makes your walls flutter. And every second your body stays silent is a war.

“Good girl,” he breathes. “Taking my fingers so well. So fucking good.”

You glance at the students two rows away — hunched over laptops, lost in problem sets. They have no idea you’re being finger-fucked within arm’s reach. That he’s curling his fingers just right. That his thumb is pressed to your clit now in slow, deliberate circles. That you’re already starting to twitch, to break.

“Keep your eyes open,” he whispers. “I want you to see how good I make you feel.”

You try with every ounce of willpower you possess. But when he leans across the table and growls “Come for me like this — right now — let them sit and fucking listen if you can't stay quiet,” you lose it.

Your orgasm shatters through you with the force of a detonation, your body pulsing desperately around his fingers as your hips buck forward. Stifling a moan, you bite down hard on your hand, stars exploding behind your eyes as waves of pleasure leave you trembling and wrecked. His fingers slow their torturous pace before slipping free, leaving you clenching around empty air, your skin feverish and oversensitive. When you finally manage to look up, you find him watching you intently as he slowly licks his fingers clean.

And before he can speak — before he can smirk or tease or reach for your hand — you’re already standing, already shoving your notebook back in your bag.

Wordlessly, you brush past his chair, pausing only to whisper close to his ear, "Don't follow me next time." Before he can respond, you slip away, leaving nothing but the ghost of your breath against his skin.

Jungkook remains in the sterile silence of the library, his chest heaving and body aching with need. Beyond the physical desire, something deeper and unfamiliar takes root in his chest - a feeling he can't name or shake.

The journey down the stairs passes in a haze, your legs unsteady and skin electric with lingering sensation. Your skirt clings damply, and every breath carries the taste of what just happened - salt and secrets, wild and unspoken.

The bright afternoon sun assaults your senses as you exit the building, the glare through the glass awning making your eyes water. Your heart still pounds an erratic rhythm as you stride forward, refusing to look back. You don't need to - you can feel his gaze following you from the third-floor window, heavy and inevitable as gravity itself, weighted with something that feels dangerously close to guilt.

By the time you make it to the research building, your pulse has evened out — mostly. You’ve redone your lip gloss. Pulled your hair down to hide your flushed neck. Smoothed the back of your skirt at least twice.

No one would suspect what had happened in that silent library just minutes ago, but the memory burns fresh in your mind. You climb the stairs rapidly, attempting to focus on anything else - trying to reclaim your identity as the dedicated student who lives for equations and late nights of study.

Your advisor stands outside his office, leaning against the doorframe with a coffee mug bearing "I Void Warranties." After exchanging greetings, you follow him into his paper-strewn office clutching your proposal folder like a shield.

"I read your draft," he says, thumbing through the pages. "The structure and math are solid. Your quantum modeling section exceeds expectations. If you complete the final sections this week, I'll submit it early to the CERN summer board."

Your breath catches at the mention of CERN - the pinnacle, the dream, your escape route. You manage a quiet thanks as he continues.

"Remember, you're competing with grad students," he adds, pausing to sip his coffee. "Stay focused. Don't lose momentum now - especially not for a boy, no matter how good he looks in sweatpants."

Your spine stiffens at the casual observation. Though he delivers it like light banter, the implication makes your ears burn. You respond with a quick "Understood" before taking your folder and retreating to the hallway.

Outside, the ambient noise feels overwhelming - footsteps, vending machines, the persistent hum of academic ambition. As you press your hand to your chest, the reality crystallizes: Jungkook represents entropy while this grant embodies order. The math should be simple, with order emerging victorious - shouldn't it?

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

There’s something almost sacred about an empty hallway just past four p.m. — the way footsteps echo too loud, the way the scent of old paper and aging floor polish settles like a hush over everything. The way the fading afternoon light slices through the tall windows in strips, dust motes dancing like particles suspended in time. You’re alone in the TA room.

The door’s cracked open. Your laptop hums softly beside the thick stack of lab reports you haven’t graded. You’ve half-forgotten what time it is. The world feels far away — a distant thing made of unread emails and unreadier feelings. The hum of fluorescent lights above your head offers the only company.

The soft click of the door opening makes you freeze. You look up to see Jeon Jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence filling the room with an unspoken tension. His footsteps echo as he moves closer, each step weighted with purpose.

You don’t look up at first. You can’t. Because the second you do, the second you see the way his sweatshirt hangs off his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens as he closes the door behind him — you know this whole room is about to become a physics problem you can’t solve.

“I need help,” he says, casual, soft, like he’s reciting a line from memory.

You finally meet his eyes. “Wrong department.”

He exhales a laugh — just air, no humor. “I know.”

You glance past him toward the hallway, toward the closing door. The click echoes too loud in the silence. You straighten in your chair, fingers curling loosely around your pen. “If someone sees you here...”

“They won’t.”

Silence hangs between you, the air thick with tension as he moves closer, each deliberate step echoing in the quiet room.

“I’ve been trying to leave you alone,” he murmurs, voice pitched low, head tilted like he’s trying to read your expression. “I really fucking have.”

“Try harder.”

His lips twitch at the edge. “You don’t want that.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

He nods slowly. “No,” he says. “But I know how you sound when I’m inside you.”

Your breath catches. Your thighs press together instinctively. The chair creaks beneath you, traitorous. You stand before you know why. Maybe to put distance. Maybe to make it worse.

“I told you,” you say, not quite steady, “this isn’t anything.”

He steps into your space so slowly it feels like a drug — all heat and closeness and scent. His fingers reach out, grazing the hem of your sleeve.

“But you keep letting me in,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing. Just tension. Raw and real. “You keep looking at me like this means nothing, then moaning like it’s the only thing that’s ever made you feel alive.”

You look up at him sharply. And that’s when it breaks. His hand catches the side of your jaw as his mouth crashes into yours, and there’s no slowness now, no subtlety. His other hand is already at your waist, pulling you in, gripping you like he’s waited years for this. Your folders scatter to the floor behind you, pages fluttering like panicked wings.

He pushes you against the door — not hard, but firm, solid. You gasp into his mouth, and he takes the sound like it belongs to him.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, lips brushing yours, breath hot, chest pressed to yours like he’s daring you to lie.

Your silence answers for you, and without another word, he sinks to his knees. Hands sliding up your skirt, mouth already open against your thigh, biting gently as he drags your underwear down — not teasing this time, not patient. His fingers dig into your ass as he pulls you closer, lips ghosting up your inner thigh, nose brushing your skin.

And when his mouth finds you — hot, wet, already aching — you nearly scream. He licks you slow and deep, like he’s memorizing every inch. Tongue flattened, circling your clit, then sucking it softly until your knees buckle. You press your palms against the door behind you to stay upright. He groans into you, like the taste of you is something that hurts. His tongue works faster. You’re panting now, trying to stay quiet, trying not to grind against his mouth — and failing.

“Jungkook...” you whisper, broken, breathless.

He hums in response, lips wrapping around your clit again, two fingers suddenly sliding inside you. The stretch, the fullness, the sound of your wetness filling the room — it all hits at once.

You bite down hard on your knuckle as your legs tremble beneath you, feeling the heat of tension radiating through the wood at your back. The familiar tightness builds deep inside as he senses your approaching release.

“Come on,” he growls, lips slick against your cunt. “Come for me. Right fucking now.”

And when it hits, your world dissolves into pure sensation. The force of your release ripples through you like an inverted gravitational pull, your body writhing against the wall as waves of pleasure crash over you. Through the haze of your climax, you're dimly aware of your thighs clenching around his head, your desperate gasps for air echoing in the empty room.

He continues his relentless attention until your breathless pleas finally make him stop. When he pulls away, his face is slick with evidence of your pleasure, his swollen lips curved into satisfaction as he takes in your thoroughly debauched state.

Before he can speak or reach for you, your mind snaps back to reality and the words are already forming on your tongue.

“This doesn’t change anything.”

He flinches, barely. Straightens slowly, chest still heaving.

“I’m busy,” you say again, voice steadier now, cooler. “You should go.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. He just stares at you, jaw tight, chest rising and falling beneath his hoodie, the look in his eyes something molten and close to violent. Not dangerous. But on edge. Like he’s been keeping something down and you just dared him to let it loose.

He takes one step closer and you don’t back away.

“You really want me to go?” he asks, voice too calm, too soft, too furious. “After everything?”

“Yes.”

Another step. Close now. You can smell yourself on him. and it makes your knees lock.

“After the fucking library? After this?” He gestures downward, voice rising. “After you came on my face and still had the audacity to look me in the eye and pretend it meant nothing?”

You straighten your spine. “It doesn’t.”

His face hardens. “You’re such a liar.”

“I told you what this was.”

“No,” he growls, “you told me what it wasn’t.”

The air shifts. You feel it happen — the weight of the silence that follows. Heavy. Stifling. The kind that carries consequence.

Then his movements shift - he takes hold of your wrist with a grip that's firm yet gentle, his touch deliberate and sure. You shove him back instinctively, but he catches you again, faster this time. Presses you to the door — hard, body flush to yours, arm braced beside your head.

His mouth is just inches from yours. His eyes burn like he’s standing at the center of a star.

“You want me to stop?” he asks again, voice low, cracking at the edges. “Tell me to stop.”

You don’t, instead, you tilt your chin higher and whisper, “Make it quick.”

Without hesitation, his hand finds its way between your thighs as he shifts your panties aside. His hardened length presses against your slick entrance, drawing simultaneous sounds of pleasure from both of you - your sharp gasp mingling with his deep groan.

“No time,” he mutters, lining himself up. “No teasing. I need to be inside you now.”

And then he’s pushing in. You cry out — soft, sharp — your fingers digging into his hoodie as he fills you in one deep, unrelenting stroke. He’s thick, hot, and you’re still too wet from before. Your walls clench around him instantly.

“Fuck,” he growls into your neck. “You feel—so—fucking—good.”

You whimper, nails catching the fabric on his back.

He starts to move — slow only for the first two thrusts, then fast, desperate, furious — hips slamming into you with a rhythm that’s more like punishment than pleasure, but it still makes your toes curl. The door rattles. The room fills with breath and skin and the slap of his body against yours. Your head hits the wood behind you as he thrusts harder, deeper, fucking into you like he’s trying to leave his shape inside you.

“Tell me it’s nothing now,” he spits, voice hot in your ear. You moan.

“Say it,” he growls, hand gripping your thigh, hiking it up higher. “Say it while I’m fucking you so deep you can’t think straight.”

You can’t speak. You’re too full. Too gone. Your fingers claw for purchase as he pounds into you again and again, the pressure building fast, filthy, sharp. Every thrust pushes the breath from your lungs, and every time he slams in deeper, your walls tighten helplessly around him.

“God, you’re so wet,” he gasps. “So fucking tight. You were waiting for this, weren’t you?”

You shake your head — a weak denial. He grabs your face with one hand, turning your mouth to his.

“You’re mine when you come,” he whispers. “No lies. No running.”

And then his fingers slip between your bodies to find your clit.

You shatter in seconds.

The orgasm rips through you — fast, brutal, silent but screaming in every nerve. Your body arches, clenches, legs shaking as he fucks you through it, still chasing his own. It only takes three more thrusts before he groans and stills, cock pulsing deep inside the condom, forehead pressed to yours. The silence after is deafening.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as his arms cage you in, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric between you. When you finally open your eyes, you find him already watching - no smile, no smirk, just an intense gaze that makes your chest tighten. For a fleeting moment, everything feels weighted with possibility.

The silence stretches between you as he slowly withdraws, his movements careful and deliberate. His fingers trace delicate patterns at your waist, like he's memorizing the curve of you, and his breath fans hot against your neck. When he finally breaks the quiet, his voice is barely above a whisper, but carries a gravity that makes your pulse skip.

“You’re more than this,” Jungkook says. “Why do you keep acting like I’m not supposed to see that?”

You blink, stunned by the softness in his voice. By the truth in it. He looks at you — really looks at you — and there’s no arrogance left, no cocky smirk, no boyish charm to hide behind. Just eyes that burn too bright and too honest, like he’s tired of pretending this is all it is.

Something inside you fractures at his words. No one has ever spoken to you with such certainty, touched you as though you were irreplaceable. Not even him, until this moment.

Yet you can't afford to let him in - not when you've finally built something stable, something that won't crumble under the weight of feelings over logic.

With practiced ease, you retreat behind your walls. As you smooth your sweater and adjust your skirt, you keep your gaze fixed anywhere but his face, methodically erasing any evidence that his touch had left you trembling just moments ago.

"I have work," you say flatly, turning away. "And you need to go."

His brows pull tight as he whispers your name, but you cut him off.

"You got what you wanted."

"I didn't come here for sex," he says, voice strained. "I came here to see you."

You grab your folder from the floor, each movement deliberate and distant. "Well, now you have."

Before he can say anything else - before he can make you stay or tell you something you're not ready to hear - you slip past him and out the door, leaving him alone in a room that still echoes with everything left unsaid.

His texts light up your screen, but you can't bring yourself to open them. Three messages in total - two from last night, one this afternoon. Each notification feels like a weight on your chest.

Deep down, you already know what they say. His words echo in your mind without needing to read them: "hey, you okay?" followed by "can we talk?" and finally, "just tell me what's going on, please." The familiar cadence of his concern makes your heart ache.

You've repeated the mantra countless times - that you're done, that letting him in again would only lead to more heartache. Yet when the knock echoes through your building, your body betrays you. Despite every logical reason to stay put, your feet carry you downstairs, drawn to him like gravity refusing to let go.

He waits outside, hood drawn and hat low, hands tucked in his pockets as if trying to make himself invisible in the daylight. When you step out and close the door behind you, the sharp morning air fills your lungs.

His posture straightens at the sight of you, but his expression remains solemn. "You've been ignoring me."

You cross your arms tight against your chest, offering a noncommittal shrug. "I've been busy."

His jaw tightens as he studies you. "I needed to see you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what we're doing anymore."

"There's no 'we,' Jungkook."

He draws a careful breath. "You've said that before."

"Because it's true." Your voice wavers despite your resolve.

"You claimed there was nothing between us," he says, "yet you kept coming back."

"It was just sex."

The words strike him visibly, making him flinch. You force yourself to look away, focusing on the empty street while he shakes his head. "You're lying."

A bitter smile crosses your lips. "So what if I am?"

His eyes meet yours, filled with a desperate kind of hope that's beginning to fade. "Then prove it. Look me in the eye and tell me I meant nothing."

You face him, mouth parting to speak, but the words die in your throat. The truth is, you can't bring yourself to be that cruel.

The silence stretches between you like a thread about to snap. Finally, you break his gaze. "I don't have time for this. I have a future to think about."

He accepts this like a final verdict, nodding once. "Then I won't bother you again."

As he walks to the curb without looking back, you remain frozen on the steps, heart caught in your throat. You try to convince yourself this is what you wanted, even as you watch the one person who truly saw you walk away.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The bass vibrates through the off-campus house, each beat sinking into your ribs like a reminder of something long forgotten. You wonder, not for the first time tonight, why you let your friend drag you to this party where you clearly don't belong.

The scene feels foreign now - dim lights casting shadows, sharp laughter cutting through stale air, and hallways thick with the scent of vodka and poor choices. You lean against the kitchen counter, nursing a sour drink, dodging the occasional stumbling partygoer.

Despite telling yourself you'll leave within an hour, your eyes keep searching the room. And there he is - Jungkook, lounging in the corner couch with casual grace, his hoodie unzipped and a restrained laugh playing at his lips. It's nothing like the unguarded joy you remember from more intimate moments.

But he's not alone. A blonde in a short skirt presses against his side, her fingers trailing his arm with practiced familiarity as she whispers against his jaw. The sight makes your chest constrict. He neither welcomes nor rejects her attention, remaining perfectly still as she continues her advances.

Your grip tightens around your cup while someone - your friend, probably - says something you can't process. Heat rises behind your eyes as you watch this scene unfold, jealousy coursing through you despite having no right to feel it. After all, you were the one who insisted there was nothing between you.

The girl moves closer, her fingers now skimming his necklace with clear intent. But then he turns his head and catches your gaze across the room. Everything freezes - her voice fading to background noise as his eyes lock with yours, intense and unreadable.

You want to look away but can't, knowing exactly what he sees: you in your tight black dress, perfect lipstick masking hollow eyes, jealousy written in every line of your body. After three endless seconds, you break first - turning sharply and walking out into the spring night that smells of cigarettes and missed chances.

When his footsteps follow you onto the porch moments later, you cross your arms tighter and whisper to yourself: "Don't be stupid. Don't turn around. Don't let him be the thing you'll regret."

When he says your name behind you - just once, soft and broken - you already know this night will undo you again.

The cold night air wraps around you as you stand at the edge of the porch, arms crossed tightly against your chest. From here, the party's music feels distant, muffled like memories you're trying to forget. The street beyond the lawn stretches dark and empty, while you remain fixed in place, caught between staying and leaving.

The door opens behind you, followed by his footsteps and then his breath. You stay facing forward as he hovers there, the space between you charged with everything left unsaid.

"I wasn't going to kiss her," he says quietly.

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't have to."

You close your eyes, letting silence settle between you before he speaks again.

"She doesn't matter," he says softly. "None of them do."

A bitter laugh escapes you - not because you doubt him, but because it would be easier if you did. "I'm sure they'd be thrilled to hear that."

His voice comes rougher now, raw with honesty. "I didn't even want to be here tonight."

"Then why come?"

"Because I knew you might be."

Something in his words makes you turn. The porch light traces silver along his features - his messy hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes that makes your breath catch.

"You think showing up changes anything?" you ask.

"I don't want to change things," he says. "I just want you to stop running."

"Running?" The word comes out hollow.

"Yes." He steps closer, voice dropping low. "You come to me like you need me, then leave like we're strangers."

Your chest tightens. "It was just sex."

"No." His eyes narrow, voice sharp with frustration. "Say it like you mean it."

You stay silent as he continues, moving closer still. "You say that, but you look at me like I've broken something. Like you hate me for making you feel."

"I don't hate you."

"But you don't trust me either."

The truth of it makes your heart pound as he softens, vulnerability bleeding through. "I'm not asking for forever. Just... a chance. I want you to try."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me."

You look down, fingers twisting in your dress as the words you've been holding back finally spill out. "I'm leaving. I got the grant."

His expression shifts subtly - not shock or anger, but a careful kind of hurt. "When?"

"End of term. Three months of research abroad."

"You weren't going to tell me."

"What would it change?"

"I don't know," he says quietly. "Maybe I wouldn't have wasted time trying to hold onto something that was always leaving."

His words sting more than you expected. When your eyes meet his again, the world seems to pause, holding its breath.

"It wasn't supposed to be anything," you whisper.

"Then why are you still here?"

You have no answer, but he isn't finished. Drawing closer until you can feel his warmth, he speaks again, voice raw with emotion. "If this was just sex, why do I still taste you every time I close my eyes? Why do I check my phone constantly for a name I know won't appear?"

"I've been with others," he continues, "but never like this. Never feeling like I'm losing something I never had the right to claim."

The silence that follows feels heavy with possibility. You want to tell him so many things - not to wait, that he deserves better, that you're terrified. Instead, you whisper, "You shouldn't want me."

"Then stop making me."

His words hang between you like static, making everything else fade away. When he looks away and runs a hand through his hair, the gesture betrays his vulnerability. The quiet between you has transformed from tense to aching, filled with unspoken pleas.

"Let me go with you."

The words stop your breath. "What?"

"I mean it." His voice grows gentle but determined. "Wherever this grant takes you - I don't care. I'll follow."

"You can't just-"

"Why not?"

"Because it's not realistic," you say. "This is my work, my life. Not a vacation."

"I'm not trying to make it one."

His gaze holds steady, all pretense gone. "I'll figure it out. Find something short-term, take time off. Get a place nearby."

"You can't be serious."

"I've never meant anything more."

Looking at him now, you see past the facade - beyond the cocky student who once teased you under library desks, beyond the reputation that follows him through whispered conversations. This is him stripped bare, offering something no one else has: the promise that you're worth chasing, worth disrupting a life for, worth not having to face everything alone.

"I can't promise anything," you whisper.

"I'm not asking for promises. Just a chance."

As your arms finally fall to your sides, the tension shifts but doesn't break. He moves closer, voice soft and intimate. "I don't want to be your distraction. I want to be the reason you don't carry everything alone."

You close your eyes, the desire to say yes burning in your throat. But when you look at him again, all you can manage is, "I need to think."

He nods, understanding. "Okay. Think."

Then he steps away and leaves you standing there, your heart beating out of rhythm as the universe seems to tilt on its axis. For the first time, you're not sure if running is what you want anymore.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

There's a hidden principle in thermodynamics that textbooks rarely mention: systems naturally resist equilibrium, fighting against stillness until the very end. Like heat dispersing through space and time, energy spreads itself thin across moments and people until everything settles into quiet calm.

But what happens when the natural order breaks? When something you're meant to release keeps drawing you back in - like gravity with too much memory, like a particle defying probability?

Jungkook is exactly that - a force of chaos and warmth, disrupting every calculated decision. He collapses your carefully constructed equations, making you realize that entropy isn't about disorder at all. It's about surrender, about letting go of control and allowing yourself to drift toward the heat that's always been there, waiting.

So this time, you’re not fighting it anymore. Every calculation, every logical path leads to him. And instead of running, you’re finally walking toward what you've been trying to deny all along.

✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.✧.

The campus has quieted into hushed twilight when you arrive at his door, the usual bustle of footsteps and laughter faded to memory. Your heart beats steady and low like background radiation as you stand there, fingers curled at your sides - not urgent or frantic, just persistent.

Neither of you has reached out since that moment on the porch, since you said you needed time to think. But in the silence between then and now, your mind has done nothing but circle back to him, again and again.

When you finally knock - just once, soft - and hear movement inside, you know with certainty that you're not here for closure. You're here for him.

The door opens to reveal Jungkook looking beautifully disheveled - hoodie inside out, chain visible, hair mussed as if he's been running his fingers through it endlessly. But it's his eyes that catch you - they come alive the moment they find yours, filled with recognition and something deeper.

No words pass between you as you step into his apartment. The door closes softly behind you, and you're enveloped by warmth - his cologne lingering on the couch fabric, an open book abandoned spine-up on the table, another hoodie draped over a chair. Everything speaks of waiting, of anticipation.

When you turn to face him, his gaze is both cautious and hopeful in the dim light. The silence stretches between you, heavy with possibility, until you finally bridge the gap - reaching for him with steady hands and certain heart.

You don’t say anything when your hand curls into his hoodie, pulling him forward. You don’t explain when your mouth finds his — soft, slow, shy. He gasps like he wasn’t sure you’d really come. And then he kisses you back.

And suddenly nothing matters but the way his hands cradle your face like it’s fragile, like he can’t believe you’re real. The way he breathes your name between kisses, reverent and raw. The way you slide your hands beneath his sweatshirt and find warmth, skin, muscle — him.

When your clothes hit the floor, it’s not frantic. It’s intentional. His fingers pull your shirt over your head like he’s memorizing the shape of you. His lips brush your shoulder, your collarbone, the valley between your breasts. He whispers something — too low to catch — but it sounds like finally.

You fall into his bed and he follows. When you wrap your legs around his waist, it’s not for leverage. It’s to keep him close. When he sinks into you, slow and warm and so deep you forget how to breathe, it doesn’t feel like friction — it feels like home.

He’s careful at first. One hand gripping your hip, the other splayed across your lower back as if to shield you from the world while he pushes in, inch by inch, holding his breath like your body is holy.

“Fuck,” he whispers, jaw tight. “You’re so warm… baby, you’re perfect.”

You let your head fall back, lips parting in a soft gasp when he bottoms out. He stays there, not moving, just breathing — buried so deep inside you it feels like he could disappear there, if you let him. And you would. When he starts to move, it’s unhurried — slow, deliberate strokes that drag against every nerve ending, make you arch your back into him, make your thighs shake.

“Tell me how it feels,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with restraint, as though he’s trying to hold back from letting go too fast. “I need to hear you.”

You meet his eyes, dazed and already drunk off the stretch, the pace, the way he’s looking at you like nothing else has ever mattered.

“You feel…” you start, and the words melt in your throat. You don’t want to say “good.” That’s not enough. Not nearlyenough.

“You feel like I finally exhaled.”

He groans, and it sounds broken, like you cracked something inside him that he didn’t know was still fragile. His thrusts deepen. Not faster or harder.

Just… more. More skin. More closeness. His chest flush against yours, lips dragging across your cheek before his mouth finds the corner of yours.

He doesn’t kiss you, not right away. He nuzzles. Soft. Slow. Like he’s trying to memorize your breath. And then, finally, he kisses you — not possessive, not filthy, but aching. A mouth pressed to yours like a secret, like the beginning of a confession, like if he could live in the space where your lips meet, he would.

You moan into it, hips rolling to meet his. His hand moves to your breast, fingers circling your nipple with the lightest brush, and when you whimper, he does it again — soft, slow, coaxing your body to bloom for him like it never has for anyone else.

Your voice is almost too breathless to be heard.

“Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

You wrap your arms around his back, press your palm between his shoulder blades, hold him like you’re afraid this is all a dream.

He starts to move faster then — a new rhythm building, deeper now, hungrier, but still sweet, still controlled. Each thrust pulls a sound from your throat, quiet, high, desperate. Your nails rake softly down his spine and he hisses at the contact, fucking you harder for a beat before slowing again.

“God,” he pants, forehead to yours, “you take me so well—always. Fuck, I missed you.”

You clench around him and he notices.

“Ohhh,” he moans, voice guttural, “you like that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Say it again. Let me hear you.”

You arch into him, voice softer than a whisper. “I missed you too.”

His pace stutters. Something in him gives way. And suddenly, he’s grabbing your hand — the one beside your head — lacing his fingers through yours like he can’t bear to come without holding you.

“I’m close,” he warns, and it sounds like an apology.

“Me too,” you whisper. “Don’t stop. Please—don’t stop.”

He moves faster then. His hips slap against yours. Sweat beads at his temples. His thrusts grow sloppy, raw, needy. Your legs lock around him. You feel it building — low and sharp and inevitable.

Your climax rushes up from your spine and down your thighs, spreading like a slow, golden shatter. You cry out softly, clutching him, your whole body arching into his as you pulse around him, wave after wave rolling through you.

He breaks a second later, burying his face in your neck with a sharp groan as he spills into the condom. His body trembles above yours like a string pulled too tight while you whisper his name into his shoulder until he stills. He stays there, holding you close, neither of you wanting to break the connection.

When he finally lifts his head to kiss you — soft and unhurried and achingly tender — it feels less like an ending and more like the beginning of whatever comes next. The moment calls for words, but you let your body soften against his instead, finding comfort in the silence between you. For the first time, that silence feels full. Not empty. Not scared. Just real.

.

.🖤

taglist: @joansie9 @mgstudyingrocks @existentialzaddy @revolutionbreez @lyb3124 @parkinglot-nights @bhonbhon

[mi55delulu]

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay ��� i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

[curse-of-art]

No I'm not exploding with emotions… I've been missing THIS for days??!! Oh my god this chapter is so intenseeee😭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I was floating on the air with happiness and satisfaction and then literally crashed to the ground 😭😭 I want to hug her and make that boss suffer so bad! My heart can't take this series anymore IT'S ALWAYS SO GOOD❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 You are, the genious love of my life, an incredible writer🫵🏻💜

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 16/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: My dear Army, hi 🥰🥺 I wrote a new chapter to you and I want to say it turned out to be emotional 🥺 I was writing it and thinking all the time, did I was not cruel to my heroine, but then I thought she has to go through pain to get her biggest reward in the future 🥹🙏🏻 I even cried at the end 😭😄 Tell me, is it normal for an author to cry from her own work? 🤭 So I look forward to your feedback! You know I'm really looking forward to them and appreciate every comment 😭💘 Enjoy ✨🥰

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @someoneelse0109, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @someoneelse0109, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl, @vantelover1306, @deepikhaprakash, @mar-lo-pap, @zeytiable, @lallataegi, @vintagemoonsstuff, @indigomoonchild09, @diame93, @bts-ruu, @asyr97, @taeloversblog, @songbyeonkim, @miniruuu, @hubbytaehyung, @queen1599, @goldenboysmuse , @nikkinikj, @kookiesncreamri, @guwol, @unholyforjk, @hisdecalcomania17, @kooklovee (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 16. Fate, which mocks

You couldn't relax. Jungkook who just finished talking on the phone, sat to your left, leaning back. One of his hands confidently held the leather steering wheel, the other rested calmly on the gear lever.

You stole glances at him several times a minute. He looked calm, even a little thoughtful, while your mind was raging. As soon as you thought back to the morning's events-the way his fingers had squeezed your breasts, the way the belt had whipped your buttocks, the way his voice had murmured low in your ear-you felt the familiar throbbing between your thighs.

You clenched your knees.

"God. Think of something else. Anything."

You turned your gaze to the window, trying to calm down, looking at the stream of cars that crawled along the road with his black Mercedes. It was Sunday morning, but Seoul is always crowded, always bustling.

You didn't notice Jungkook give you a brief but intense glance. His eyes slid over your image - a tight cream skirt, a white blouse, fingers tightly clutching the strap of your bag, and those lips of yours that you kept biting.

He sighed slightly and gripped the steering wheel tighter. His thoughts were far from innocent. He still felt like he had the taste of your skin on his tongue.

"You look like you're on your way to confess to high treason," Jungkook joked quietly, slyly peering out from under his eyelashes. You turned your head sharply at him when you heard his voice.

"I... um..." you trailed off. In fact, you were more worried about the morning's sex than about the work itself. Though the thought of going back to work after all that was really scary. "I'm a little... nervous," you said, looking down and fixing your hair. "I feel like I haven't been to work in forever."

"You don't have to worry, you're good at your job and you'll do even better this time," he said gently. "So relax. Don't look like you've killed someone... or done something much worse."

Your face instantly flushed.

"Don't start," you muttered.

"Don't start what?" Jungkook replied with feigned innocence, but there was a familiar sparkle in his eyes. "I didn't say anything at all."

"But you thought!" you complained, swallowing a wave of new memories of how well he had done you this morning. You glanced down at his lips and looked back up at the road.

"How can I not think about you?" he asked rhetorically. You cleared your throat, trying to calm the chaos inside you.

"Like thinking, only the other way around," you said seriously. Jungkook laughed softly. Luckily for you, he got a call and for most of the rest of the trip, you drove listening to him another talk business.

When you reached the ʼEON Creativeʼ headquarters, Jungkook slowed down smoothly, stopping at the entrance. You clutched your purse.

"Thank you for the ride..." you said gratefully, but before you could finish your sentence, Jungkook leaned over the armrest and got close to your face.

"Will I see you tonight?" he asked in a low purring tone. You froze, looking at his lips.

"Why?" you said, frightened. It was automatic. It was just... you weren't expecting such a question.

"What do you mean ‘why’?" Jungkook wondered. "I think we have unfinished business." His fingers touched your cheek. He leaned closer and you automatically closed your eyes. But instead of a kiss, there was only the touch of his nose on your cheekbone, his breath tickling your skin Jungkook's lips gently touched your cheekbone, moving up to your ear. "I have more to show you."

"Jungkook," you called, protesting slightly. He pulled away from your ear, looking into your eyes.

"What did I asked you to call me?" his voice was low, deep. Not angry. No. But slightly possessive, demanding. You reflexively squeezed his hand harder, and he felt it.

"Kook," you corrected yourself, quickly. He looked at you for a moment, and that was enough for you to see his eyes soften. He didn't let you say anything else, because in the next moment he pressed his lips to yours in a full, hot kiss. His tongue entered your mouth easily, and you surrendered. It was sweet. And... too good.

You even forgot that you had to go, you were probably late already. But no matter, for some reason his lips were more important.

Jungkook put his hand on your knee, and without hesitation, he slid his hand under your skirt. He slowly raised his hand up your thigh. You should have stopped him... but you couldn't.

"Kook, stop," you mutter, forcing your lips away from his. He doesn't let you rest and continues kissing you, his hand already reaching your underwear. His fingers gently touch your aroused center and you squeeze his shoulders with your fingers.

"It's almost impossible," Jungkook says as he pulls away from your lips. He goes down to your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. He massages your clit without letting himself push back the fabric of your thong. Because if he did, he would have to fuck you for the second time this morning.

Your brain is frozen, but your body is on fire.

"I'm going to be late," you breathed out, giving him better access to your neck.

Jungkook's lips lifted to yours and you opened your eyes, breathing deeply, excited.

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" he asks seriously. You are dumbfounded. He can't be serious! Not this soon. You seem to be crazy about each other. Why do you two, want to fuck every free minute?

"Kook, I'm really late..." you said in desperation. Jungkook pushed your underwear aside and touched your wet clit. You were soaked and it was no surprise to him. His cock is also hardened. But he's late for the meeting, too. No matter how much Jungkook wants to fuck you, he has to hold back. But to tease you, to get you excited so that you'll come back tonight just to finish the that you two started - that's his real intention.

You bit your lip, holding your breath as his fingers touched your clit. Jungkook's handsome face is just centimeters away and you can't stand that hungry look. You close your eyes again.

"Answer the question," Jungkook whispers against your lips. His middle finger penetrates you. You squeezed your shoulders and moaned softly. At the same time, his other finger pressed on your clit. He's teased you and now you really want to.

"Yes," you say barely.

"Say it clearly," he demands, his voice fogging your mind as his fingers move deeper.

"Yes, Kook. I want you to fuck me now," you say more clearly. You open your eyes and see his sly look and sly smile, and for some reason you don't like it. He speeds up his movements inside you, and on your clit too. You can feel your orgasm coming.

Jungkook kisses you, deeply, a little roughly, and you come on his finger, squeezing his palm between your legs. You moan into his mouth, and when the peak of pleasure passes, he releases your lips.

Jungkook pulls his palm out from under your skirt and licks his fingers defiantly. Your cheeks are red, and your hair is a little disheveled. He gently adjusts your skirt and then your blouse.

He kisses you briefly on the lips.

"Pervert..." he whispered barely audibly against your lips. You smiled, it was both so embarrassing and so funny to hear him say that word.

"You... aren't exactly 'normal' either," you whispered back, and his smile grew wider.

"I know."

Jungkook let go of you. You looked in the mirror, checking to see if you could see your recent satisfaction. Your hair was a mess. You decided to let your hair down, it would look neater. Your lips were still swollen. But you had already pulled yourself together.

Your gaze slid down and you saw the fabric of his jeans stretched in obvious arousal. But he feigned calm. You smiled.

"Can you handle it?" you couldn't help but ask mockingly, glancing at his crotch.

"Don't worry, I'll calm down soon," he said with a sly smile. You pressed your lips together, nodding your head as if to agree with his statement.

"Okay, thanks for the ride. And for the wet underwear," you fixed your hair again, finally opened the car door and got out. Jungkook leaned over the armrest, throwing a look at your back.

"So you're coming tonight?" he said hopefully. He was more than sure that you would say yes.

"You are so insatiable. Give me a break," you said, faking indignation. Jungkook laughed.

"If you don't come to me, I'll come to you myself." he said. You threw your purse over your shoulder, and felt the wetness between your legs and the echoes of your orgasm.

"I won't open the door for you," you teased.

"Than I'll know your pin code, it won't be a problem for me, you know that."

You gasped in surprise, but you weren't angry or protesting. You smiled to show that it was all a joke.

"You're so persistent," you said. Jungkook smiled again, tongue touching the piercing in his lip.

"I know that's your favorite thing about me."

You barked out a laugh.

"Maybe it's also the thing I hate most about you. Bye." You said and walked away. Jungkook watched your back, not wanting to let you out of his sight until the last moment.

The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, and you tried to focus. But your mind kept clinging to what Jungkook had called you as he left.

"Pervert..."

You pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose, unable to stop smiling. Trying to calm yourself down. This man is really a bad influence on you. He also takes up too much space in your thoughts. You exhaled sharply and blinked a few times, thinking that this would make the thoughts of Jungkook disappear.

The elevator stopped at the top floor. You took a breath, stepped out onto the company floor, and walked confidently down the corridor. Greetings with colleagues were dry and distant.

No one asked how you were doing. And no one was happy to your return, except for Jisu, who immediately threw herself into your arms. You felt every eye that was directed at you. It was as if you were a random person here.

"Y/N, go to the conference room. They are waiting for you there," Jisu said. You nodded gratefully and left.

The meeting room was half empty, but the atmosphere was tense.

Kang Yongwon was sitting at the table, with a young man and a girl next to him. They both immediately looked up at you, and there was nothing but undisguised interest in their eyes. As if you had just been laid out on a plate.

"You're finally here," Yongwon smiled showing his feigned joy, and he nodded his hand to a chair, inviting you to sit down.

"Greeting," you bowed, and walked over to the table, listening to your own heartbeat. You quickly glanced in the direction of the boss and noticed that he was looking you over from head to toe, lingering on the neckline of your blouse and your legs. That look made you feel terribly. Just like before. The disgusting feeling is so familiar.

Nothing has changed.

"This is Seo Yuna and Min Jaehwan. They'll be working with you on the project," he said getting straight to business. His voice became serious and his gaze piercing. "Han Y/N-shi, I chose them to be a good support for you. Your task will be to tell them everything. Starting from the stage when the first idea appeared. So that they better understand where and how you need help."

You blinked. You glanced quickly at the people you were about to work with and felt tension fill every cell in your body.

"Excuse me... what about Jisu? We've always worked together... I thought she would be on the team..."

"She's involved in another important project," Yongwon explained coldly. "And these two are with you now. They'll be fine for you."

Yuna smiled, tilting her head.

"It's nice to meet you. I just recently joined the company." She held out her hand to you. You hesitated for a moment and then gently shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," you squeezed out of yourself.

Jaehwan was the next to shake your hands.

"The honor is mine. Unfortunately, I didn't have the opportunity to meet you before. But I've heard a lot of... good things." He stuttered after the word "a lot," and you barely stopped yourself from cringing. You imagined he had heard "good things" about you.

Great. You don't know them. Absolutely not.

You, your team, and your boss sat around for a while organizing the work. You shared the main details of the project, but that's it. For the next three days, you have a lot of work to do with these two people, so you have to focus and do a good job.

You walked out of the meeting room and noticed that Yuna followed your boss into his office. It didn't seem strange, maybe they were having a conversation or he had some work for her.

But knowing how weak your boss is in front of beautiful women and in the eternal search for Miss Kang, you doubted it. You're lucky if his focus shifts away from you, so you can work in the company in peace when you return.

You were met by Jisu and you went to lunch together in the cafe on the first floor of the company. Your friend asked you unceremoniously about Jungkook and whether you had made a make up with him. You awkwardly answered yes. She demanded more details, but you joked that little girls like her shouldn't know. And Jisu exploded. She started to pester you until you told her some of the truth about the night before, but not much else.

After lunch with Jisu, you ordered a taxi and went home. You went about your daily routine, putting away the laundry, wiping down the table, and going through the mail. You called your grandmother and talked to her. Fortunately, she was doing well. You told her that you were going to participate in a prestigious competition to present your project, and she was very happy for you.

Then you sat down at laptop again, to prepared some files for tomorrow.

Almost a day passed like that. And the closer it got to evening, the more you thought about Jungkook. His request to come over in the evening because "you had unfinished business" made your insides tremble. You glanced at your phone. The screen was black.

What should you do? Should you wait for him to text or just go to him yourself? But then he'd think you were a real pervert who hadn't had enough in the morning. You sighed and lightly massaged your temples with your fingers, trying to calm your thoughts.

"No. I'm not going to see him. We... we have sex all the time. If it goes on like this, I'll fall in love. And then that's it. Another pain in the ass. No. Thank you."

But the memories treacherously made you remember moment. The morning. His voice, the promise to explore your darkest desires... and suddenly, memory threw up one very specific detail.

A conversation. He wanted to talk about something, even before he handcuffed you. You intended to ask about the conversation in the car. But there was no right moment. Jungkook kept talking on the phone, and then... he finger fuck you.

You need to know what he wanted to discuss. You grabbed the phone, mentally reassuring yourself that this was not another opportunity to be with him.

📱 8:22 p.m. | You: "Are you home?"

You wrote briefly. Jungkook read it in less than half a minute. The number ‘2’ appeared next to your message.

📲 8.22 p.m. | Jungkook: "Yes. I've been waiting for you for ages here 😏"

You couldn't hold back a smile. Warmth swept through your body and settled somewhere in the pit of your stomach. Butterflies. They are here again.

But he wasn't waiting for a conversation. And to cool things down a bit, you quickly dialed another one:

📱 8.23. p. m. | You: "You wanted to talk to me in the morning. We never did. Was it an important conversation or can it wait until we see each other? Or you can write me here."

You looked at the screen nervously. Your pride made you look reserved: you weren't running to him, just looking for an explanation. But inside... you wanted him to say: "Come."

Animated dots appeared on the screen.

📲 8.24 p.m. Jungkook: "Of course this is an important conversation. And it can't wait until tomorrow. Come to me, or... if you want, I'll come to you?"

Your heart fluttered. You smiled, happy that he had lived up to your expectations.

Your fingers hit the sensor, typing a message to him.

📱 8.24 p.m. | You: "I'll come to you in 20 minutes. I have to finish work,"

You lied so that you would have time to shower and look perfect.

📲 8.24 p.m. | Jungkook: "I'll wait. Did you have dinner? Should I order something?"

You look at the screen, biting your lip. Your eyes are shining and you can't stop smiling. It looks like you have a date. But you recover in time to write the next message.

📱 8.25 p.m. | You: "No. I'm not hungry. I'll come over and we'll just talk."

Jungkook doesn't respond for about a minute, and then you get his last message.

📲 8.25 p.m. | Jungkook: "Hurry up, kitten. I really want to talk to you."

You turned off the screen. Butterflies stirred in your stomach again. But you knew he not just wanted to talk to you, he wants more than just that. And you didn't mind.

Going to the bathroom, you quickly took a shower. Then you gently smeared a delicate cream with coconut and almonds on your body - the scent was light, barely perceptible, but it beckoned to touch.

You put on soft cotton pants, a white top, and a loose shirt. It seemed like nothing special. But underneath the clothes was a thin cream-colored lace underwear that gave you confidence and hidden temptation.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you picked up the phone and went out into the hallway. The door to Jungkook's apartment was immediately in your field of vision. You approached it slowly. You stopped at the door. Your heart was pounding. Taking a deep breath, you pressed the doorbell button.

The door opened almost instantly, and you froze - he was standing there in wide black sweatpants, wearing a white oversized T-shirt, but his silky, slightly disheveled hair and relaxed look made him illegally attractive, even in his homey look.

You wanted to make a move to go in, but you felt Jungkook grab your wrist and pull you inside. His lips instantly captured yours. The door closed behind you somewhere in the background, but you didn't notice it.

Your body was between it and the wall. His tongue persistently explored every inch of yours, and for a moment you forgot why you had come at all. You put your hands on his chest, feeling him squeeze your buttocks, holding you close as he could.

You tried to turn your head to the side, to push him away a little, but Jungkook didn't even think to stop. His arms held you steady. Jungkook's kiss was hot, greedy, too sincere not to make you want to respond. But you forced yourself to pull away.

"Kook..." you breathed out under your breath, trying not to give in to the wave of desire. "We... that's not why... I didn't come here..."

"Then why?" he murmured, leaning down to your lips again. "If not for that, then why do you smell like that... why do you look like that... and why is your heart beating like crazy?" his voice was low, husky, and impossibly seductive.

"Oh, God," you breathed out. When he touched his lips to your earlobe. Your legs refused to hold you. You need to get away from him, otherwise you'll never talk. "Talk first, then everything else," you thought. "The conversation. You said it was important."

Jungkook pulled away from your sweet skin and looked into your eyes.

"Conversation..." he grumbled and touched your lips again, briefly, softly, as if he couldn't help himself. "But how can we talk when you're standing in front of me like this? How am I supposed to think when all day long I've been imagining you coming to me like this, and for another reason..."

"Jungkook!" you grabbed him sharply by the front folds of his T-shirt, finally pulling out of his arms. You removed his hands and stepped away. He looked at you, taking a deep breath, as if trying to collect himself. "We have to talk," you said again, more confidently. "If you really wanted me to know something important, let's get down to business. I didn't come here for sex."

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds, looking into your eyes. His gaze became serious, and you could read the tension in it. He sighed in frustration and walked toward the bar. You watch him, arms crossed over your chest.

Jungkook took two beers, placed one on the table next to the couch, and opened the other immediately.

"You want one?" he offered softly. You looked at him, evaluating his offer, and decided to drink. You didn't know what the conversation would be like or about, so alcohol might ease the growing excitement inside you.

You took a can of beer and sat down next to him. You were silent, watching him as he opened the can for himself and took a few sips.

"How is your halmoni doing?" he suddenly asked. You froze with the can of beer at your lips. You took a slow sip and answered.

"She's fine, why do you ask about her?"

A slight smile touched his lips. You raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I just want to know how she is. I haven't asked you about her since. Since we came back from Busan."

You raised your eyebrows and took a sip of your beer.

"She's fine," you say shortly, again. When Jungkook doesn't say anything, you look up at him. He looks thoughtful.

"And how is your mother? Has she called you since?" he asks another question.

You think about it for a moment and realize that your mother hasn't really called you since then, and your grandmother hasn't mentioned her either.

"No, she hasn't called anymore," you say. Your eyes narrow and you look suspiciously at Jungkook, who takes another sip of beer. "You didn’t touch her, did you?" you ask. Jungkook freezes for a split second, but you catch that micro-movement.

"No, I didn't do anything," he says confidently, but he doesn't look you in the eye.

"Look me in the eye and tell me the same thing," you demanded.

Jungkook slowly turned his gaze to you. His dark eyes momentarily revealed something-a shadow of emotion, a memory, or a reproach to himself. But in a second, it disappeared, and a familiar mask of calm appeared on his face.

"I didn't touch her," he repeated in a steady tone. "I promise."

You stared at him, trying to figure out if you could believe his words. But Jungkook, as always, was opaque. Just like when it was easy for him to hide who he really was.

You kept your eyes on him for a moment longer and then nodded.

"Okay."

Meanwhile, Jungkook turned away and took another sip of beer. But there was a memory in his head that he didn't want to say out loud.

This morning when he was jogging, he was talking to Manager Lee. They discussed the fact that you were illegitimate Kang Tehwon's daughter and Manager Lee assured him that he had checked the information well and that it was definitely true. Jungkook was shocked by the news. He couldn't believe it and had to ask you personally what you knew about your father.

Jungkook remembered what your mother had said when she came to your grandmother's house:

"You found yourself a rich man... He will leave you as soon as he gets tired of you. Just like your father did to me..."

So far, everything was coming together. Jungkook also mentioned that he had promised you that your mother would give you back everything she had taken from your grandmother. This woman, who had no right to be called your mother, should pay for her years of terror.

Jungkook ordered the manager:

"Check if Y/N’s mother has debts. If so, then find those who are keeping her in debt. And pay them off. But do it not on my behalf, but on hers, but she must not know anything."

"You mean secretly?" the manager clarified. Jungkook nodded his head, but Lee didn't see it, so he said it out loud.

"That's right. I want this woman to think that she paid everything herself. I want her to think that she's pulled that money out of her own flesh and blood. I want her to lose everything and to be left with nothing."

"I see. How much do you want to spend on this?" the manager's voice was as serious as ever.

"Up to five million won. If it's more than that, I'll need a separate report." Jungkook sighed as he stopped in front of the front door of the multi-storey building where he lived.

"Okay," Lee said shortly.

"One more thing. Have her literally sell everything she has: her clothes, her furniture, her house. You can even simulate pressure from the 'creditors'. But she must believe that this is her own 'success'. When she pays off everything, find her a job with housing in another city and send her there. If she starts drinking there, it will be her problem. The money received from Y/N's mother, put on deposited to grandmother's account. Find it out through the hospital where she was treated." Jungkook was silent for a moment, raised his head and looked up at upstairs of the house, "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Jungkook-nim, I understand, I'm already looking for people for your plan."

"Good, keep me posted. Also, find out Y/N's account number. She needs to deposit 7 million won into the account."

"Transfer 7 million through your personal account?" asked Lee, immediately thinking correctly.

"Yes. So that my father doesn't see the money." confirmed Jungkook.

"Why are you interested in her and halmoni? It's suspicious," you say, making your assumptions.

"I'm just curious about your family, is that bad?" Jungkook sat down deeper, turning to face you. You looked at him sideways.

"My mother is not part of my family." you said, looking down. Your voice suddenly became lower, calmer, but painfully sincere. "We've always had a... bad relationship. You could see that back in Busan."

Jungkook noticed the change in your voice and it tightened his chest.

"Why is your relationship like that?"

You put down your beer and sat down deeper on the couch. You pulled your legs under you, wrapping your arms around them.

"She..." you hummed, "she hated me. And I probably hated her too. She was always drinking. Always. Drunk is my only memory of her from childhood. Angry. Cold. And indifferent." Your voice trembled, but you continued, "My mother... never wanted me. I don't remember her hugging me once. And I never felt like I had a mom. My mom is my halmoni. And that woman... is just the woman who gave birth to me."

Jungkook was watching you closely, not missing a single word or emotion. It hurt him that you had such a terrible mother and had to go through this as a child.

"Who was she? Why did she started drinking?" Jungkook asked cautiously. You turned your head to him and he saw your eyes glistening with pain.

"I don't know why she started drinking. Halmoni said she was a model. She was very famous. When I found out, I even looked for her in old magazines. And I found her. She was beautiful. Very beautiful. And this... only hurt more. Because I looked at her picture and I couldn't believe that this woman... this woman... had yelled at me, hit me, called me names."

"She hit you?" Jungkook asked, his eyebrows raised. His jaw clenched unconsciously. How can you hit a little girl?

"Yes," you smiled sadly. You told Jungkook everything, not wanting to hide a drop of truth from him. It was the first time you had ever been asked about your family like that, and he didn't look at you with disgust or pity. On the contrary, you saw indignation in Jungkook's eyes. "It happened a lot. I don't know if she beat me when I was very young, but it happened. Because of her work, my grandmother rarely visited me. She didn't know how my mother treated me, and I was afraid to tell her. When my grandmother found out, she took me away immediately. Me were about 12, that my grandmother took me in, and I've lived with her ever since."

"Why did she beat you?" Jungkook asked again.

"For different reasons. But mostly when I talked about my father. Especially when I wanted to know who he was."

"So did she tell you who he was?"

"No. I still don't know who that man is. My grandmother never told me either. And now I'm not interested. Although my mother often said that I resemble him. But how can I understand in what way? I never knew, who he really was" your voice trembled. You went through all those memories again and it hurt. You were silent for a moment, and then you remembered. "One day she beat me so badly that I couldn't go to school because the bruises on my face were so big. I didn't want my classmates to tease me because they all knew my mother was drinking."

It was hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. Hot tears broke off rolled down your shocks as you closed your eyes to catch your breath. You hadn't planned to cry in front of Jungkook, but he had touched the deepest and most painful strings of your soul.

Suddenly, you felt him sit down and hug you. And you could not hold back. You cried, releasing the pain you had been holding for many years. And no matter how many times you cried, it didn't make it go away.

You clung to his chest, crying softly, and you were grateful that he was there for you when you were not strong.

You don't know how much time passed, but you were in Jungkook's arms for a long time. You calmed down and didn't cry anymore, just felt the warmth of his hand stroking your waist. You wiped your wet cheeks with your hand and looked up, not moving away from his chest.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" you remembered that instead of talking about your parents, you were supposed to talk to him. Jungkook tilted his head down to look at you. "Is it about the deal?" you asked, sniffling.

But there was no answer. Jungkook leaned down and kissed you. Gently, cautiously, as if he wanted to calm you down even more. You immediately responded to his kiss, realizing that you needed it now. You really needed him. Because when you are with him, you don't think about anything.

You laughed in your mind. It's Jungkook. The same Jungkook you couldn't stand a month ago, and now you need him more than anyone else in the world. What's wrong with you? You haven't fallen in love with him, have you?

This question, which you mentally threw to yourself, remained unanswered. You didn't even have time to formulate it, because Jungkook, as if he sensed that something had changed in you, deepened the kiss. And you drowned in it.

It was not a kiss of desire, not a kiss of habit. It was... deep. Slow. Soft. There was no rush, only care and warmth. He kissed you as if he was apologizing for all the pain of your childhood. For every insult, for every scar you didn't deserve.

Jungkook parted your lips and you slowly opened your eyes. You looked at each other as if you were talking in your minds. You said "Thank you" to him and heard him say "I'll be there for you." You wanted his closeness. It seemed to you that he was the only one who could take away your pain. You pulled him to you and kissed him.

Your lips connected and Jungkook could taste the saltiness of your tears. He didn't want you to cry. He never wanted to see you cry again. He did the right thing by your mother, and after what you told him, he thought he was even soft on her. He wants to protect you from everyone, to erase all your pain. To destroy everyone who has ever hurt you.

The kiss turned from gentle and grateful to passionate and exciting. Jungkook deepened the kiss, wanting to show you that he needed you. You responded with no less passion, showing that you needed him too.

Without breaking the kiss, you climbed onto his lap and sat on top of him. Jungkook put his palms on your waist, and without staying there for long, he put his hands on your buttocks. He squeezed them, pressing you closer to his crotch and you could feel how hard he was.

You felt how hard he was, and you couldn't help but move on him, wanting more. Your pussy was wet between your legs, your clit throbbing with desire.

Jungkook moaned against your lips and responded by moving his hips. His arms held you down until your bodies were one without even taking off your clothes.

Your hips slid back and forth, and you sighed softly as you felt his body respond to your every move. Jungkook squeezed your flesh, trying to keep control.

"Let me have you..." he whispered, leaning down slightly to look into your eyes. His voice sounded hoarse, almost broken, as if this desire was burning him up inside.

He pulled off your shirt. It fell somewhere near his feet. Following the shirt, he took off your top, exposing your breasts.

Jungkook touched one of your breasts with his lips and kissed it gently, without the usual lust. It was incredibly pleasant, so intimate as never before. Usually your sex is crazy and rough. But now it was different.

He let go of your nipple and kissed you between your breasts, slowly moving up to your neck. He left almost no place unkissed.

You pulled away, stopping him. Your hand reached for the edge of his T-shirt, and Jungkook silently raised his hands, letting you take it off. His torso was hot, tense, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over it.

Your fingers touched his beautiful body, as if to explore it anew. You touched his tattoos, which had always attracted your attention. After, you touched his shoulder with your lips. You kissed his forearm, then the place between his neck and shoulder. You climbed up your lips at his neck and felt his breath catch. You moved next to his jaw, to his chin, and finally found his lips.

You kissed him first and couldn't get enough of his closeness. It was as if you were in heaven. You hid from all your problems and felt calm.

You were the first to pull away from his lips and smiled when you saw his eyes closed. Jungkook opened them, looking at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. His gaze was almost reverent.

"You are so beautiful," he said softly, touching your face. You leaned against his palm, touching the inside of it with your lips. Jungkook's heart fluttered.

Fuck. This must be it. He's fallen in love.

Jungkook grabbed you by the waist and stood up. You barely managed to grab him your hands, clinging to his waist with your legs. He held you tightly, not giving you any hint that you might fall.

Without a word, he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed as if you were made of porcelain. Jungkook slowly took off your cotton pants. He saw the lace underwear and for the first time smiled slyly, as you were used to seeing him during your sex.

"So you wore that lace to come simple talk to me," he grabbed the edge of the thong and pulled it down, slowly, almost mockingly.

You were breathing fast, but a smile appeared on your lips, which meant that you were caught.

"Do you think that if I wore regular underwear, it would prove that I didn't prepare for sex?"

Jungkook laughed softly. He pulled off your thong and threw it into your pants. He took off his sweatpants in one quick movement, and you gasped silently.

There was no underwear underneath. His cock was aroused, hard, straight. You turned your stormy gaze to Jungkook. He had already climbed onto the bed and was approaching you with a sly smile.

When his body touched yours, you felt his warmth. His weight pressed you pleasantly against the bed. You opened your legs, letting him get comfortable between them.

Jungkook put his arms under yours so you could hug him. He came closer and kissed you, more eagerly, but not with the usual hunger.

"I think you've been preparing," he kissed the spot between your neck and jaw, "and so have I, as you can see."

You smiled wider, running your fingers through his hair, feeling its softness.

"I noticed," you said, enjoying his kisses. Jungkook lifted his head. His eyes ran over your face.

"I want you. I want all of you," he said. Your smile slowly disappeared. What did he mean ‘all of you’? It was what you thought it was? You would want him too, but is it possible? Is it possible for you to be with them outside of the agreement?

You couldn't say anything to him in response. The words just stuck somewhere in your throat. Instead, you pulled him in for another kiss. Jungkook eagerly responded, intertwining your tongues. He noticed that this was the third time you had kissed him first, although he usually took the initiative.

You moved your hips, rubbing your wet pussy against his cock. Urging him to move into action. Jungkook moved his hips to meet you. Desire had eclipsed all thought, and now he just wanted to be inside you. He released your lips and you whispered.

"I want you. Come in," you couldn't wait any longer.

Jungkook bit your plump lips briefly and stood up. He took his cock and slowly, very slowly, brought it to you. And when he entered, it was something incredible. Something you will never stop needing. You couldn't hold back a moan, and he bit his lip to keep from losing control from your sound.

He entered you completely, gently, without jerking. He lay on top of you, holding you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to feel the strength of his body, every muscle. Jungkook lie in this position a little, kissing you, giving you time to get used to the size.

He felt as tight inside as ever, and that and the thought that you belonged to him completely made his cock twitch several times. Jungkook pressed in tighter and started to move, pulling away from your lips but not moving far from your face. You kept your eyes closed, enjoying every movement, every inch of his body. Jungkook looked at your face and couldn't get enough of your beauty.

He moved carefully, as if he was afraid of breaking you. His forehead touched yours. He was whispering something that you can’t understand right now. Each thrust was slow, full, and full of meaning.

It wasn't your ordinary sex. It was something else. Something filled with other feelings.

And although he moved gently, the sensations were too intense. You clung to his back, as if it was the only way to keep yourself on this edge. He was lifting your hips a little higher, finding deeper angles than ever, but not losing his softness.

"It feels so good..." you whispered, hugging him.

Jungkook exhaled against your skin, as if your words had made his heart flutter even more. He leaned in, hugging you tightly, and whispered right into your lips:

"You drive me crazy..."

He was driving you too.

His thrusts became a little deeper, sharper, with each new movement they had more confidence, more strength. Not rudeness - strength that came from within, from a real desire to belong to you completely. You could feel his body pulsating with yours, as if your hearts were beating in a common rhythm.

Jungkook lifted your hips and pushing you stronger. Your body arched under him, and another sweet moan escaped your throat. You couldn't hold back anymore - every touch was too pleasant, every thrust was like a wave that washed over you.

"Hold on to me," he asked hoarsely, and you hugged him even tighter, digging your nails into his skin. Although he seems to have meant something completely different.

You could feel his back trembling under your fingers, his tension rising, his breathing getting heavier. He was already on the verge-you knew it-but he was still holding himself, not to speed up, not to lose this moment. He wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible.

"Kook..." came out of your mouth. You wanted to feel the desired pleasure. Your insides were trembling, the sounds that filled Jungkook's room and the feelings he created were pushing you to the limit. "Please let me come."

Jungkook slowed down and then stopped.

"Just a little more," he begged. He knelt down, not leaving you. Your body was relaxed, and so yielding. He leaned down to kiss your breasts. His tongue caressed one nipple at first, touched fingers the flesh, and then moved to the other.

"I can't," you said breathlessly. "Let me come," you begged.

Jungkook looked up and lingered on your face - your lips open, your eyes closed in pleasure, your fingers clasped together, holding onto the sheet... It’s seems like he had never seen you so beautiful. And so vulnerable. His own heart was pounding as if it was about to jump out of his chest.

"One more moment..." he whispered, as if he was begging not you, but himself. "A little more pleasure, a little more feeling you completely."

He lowered himself, touching his lips to your body again, leaving kisses between your breasts, along your ribs, on your stomach, before returning to your face. His hand slid down and found your sensitive center. His fingers acted as gently as his body - softly, purposefully, knowing exactly what would make you lose your mind.

"I want... I want you to give every one of your orgasms to me..." his voice was hoarse, rough with desire. He started moving again, a little faster this time. There was still a gentleness to his movements, but now there was a fierce need.

You could not stand it. From his rhythm, from his fingers, from the pressure of emotion, and from the fact that there was something more behind this sex. Unspeakable.

Your body tensed, you clung to his shoulders even harder and bent under him like a string. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips, exposing every cell of your being. You could feel the wave spreading through your body, every muscle trembling and pulsing inside.

Jungkook felt it. His pupils dilated, and he wanted to release himself in you. A few more deep thrusts and he came too. His body tensed, and he pressed in tighter, burying his face in your neck, exhaling hoarsely against your skin.

He stayed inside until he stopped spewing his semen. His breathing steadied slowly, and his palms slid gently over your skin.

When he lifted up a little to see your face, you were still with your eyelids slightly closed, so relaxed, so beautiful, so his.

For the next three days, you were at work from morning to night. You didn't see Jungkook all those days, but you talked on the phone. You worked hard and diligently on the project, telling every detail, emphasizing the most important things.

You noticed that Yuna was hanging around Kang's boss a lot, having lunch together, she visiting his office, and running around for constant advice.

During the lunch break, you talked to Jisu about Yuna's desire to please boss. Jisu told you that there are rumors that Yuna is the daughter of one of the members of the ‘EON Creative’ detectives, and that's why she is so desperate to get his attention. And most likely they are sleeping together. And just thinking about it made you shake.

You were glad that your boss had finally left you alone, but you caught his long glances as usual, even though he was very reserved around you.

On Wednesday, at about eight o'clock in the evening, when you had finished work and were heading home, your work phone rang. You picked up the phone and heard the voice of Kang Yongwon's secretary. She told you that he wanted to see you.

You felt a tension mixed with excitement, but you calmed yourself down, soothing yourself with the thought that maybe he wanted to know if everything was ready for tomorrow's final.

You walked into Kang Yongwon's office, he was sitting at his desk, and when he heard the sound of the door, he looked up at you and... smiled. But this smile was somehow... sickeningly friendly, unnatural.

"Oh, Y/N-shi, come in," his voice sounded too soft. "Sit down."

You bowed, and slowly walked over and sat down, keeping your eyes on him. Something tightened inside you. Your intuition quietly told you that something was wrong.

"Tell me, is everything ready for tomorrow's contest?" he asked, folding his hands into a lock on the table. "Did you explain everything well to Yuna and Jaehwan?"

"Yes," you nodded. "I told them every little detail. They will be a good support for me tomorrow, I'm sure."

There was silence for a moment. Then Kang Yongwon made a theatrical sigh, as if he was genuinely sorry for what he had to say.

"Today I had a conversation with the company's advisor..." he began, looking at you with the same feigned gentleness. "And... he thinks that your presence at the competition... could damage ‘EON Creative's’ reputation."

"What?" you asked as if you hadn't heard. "Why?"

Yongwon shook his head.

"Because of the scandal. After you... had to be suspended, your participation in the competition might raise unnecessary questions. And frankly, it might affect the outcome." You opened your mouth to object, but he interrupted sharply. "We've been thinking for a long time about how best to proceed. And... I'd like to ask you to copyright waiver etrified."

This was your project. Your work. A chance to come back and prove that you are a good specialist... that you deserve a place in the company.

You sat silently, staring into his face. The boss leaned a little closer.

"Y/N-shi. You know that this is a very important competition for us. Therefore, not only the result is important to us, but also the company's image. We simply cannot take any risks. Do you understand?"

You continued to be silent. And although something inside you was seething, the voice of reason said: this is your chance to come back. If you show your loyalty to the company, maybe this will be a step towards your return.

"Good," you finally said. Yongwon smiled triumphantly.

He leaned back in his chair and then nodded in appreciation, adding:

"Thank you very much, Han Y/N! As always, you make the right decisions." He reached into a folder on his desk, pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to you. You saw the document that said you were abandoning the project in favor of the company. But you also noticed that there was no date on the document. This seemed strange to you.

You saw a pen in front of you and held your gaze on it. You picked it up and felt a tension that was almost physical. It was most likely radiating from your boss, who wanted you to sign the copyright waiver as soon as possible. You took the pen and looked up at Yongwon.

You didn't want to give the project away for nothing. You needed a guarantee. Because it's not a given that even your project wins, he'll bring you back to work. So you had to set your own conditions.

"I'll sign it, but on one condition," you said firmly. The manager could barely contain his emotions. But you noticed a shadow of irritation on his face.

"What a condition, Y/N-shi?" he asked in a low voice.

"I sign a copyright waiver, and you guarantee me a job back after the competition."

There was a momentary silence between the two of you, but then Kang Yongwon smiled.

"Of course," he said more softly, as if he expected you to say that, "I'll bring you back if your project wins."

You raised your eyebrows. He had put his own condition on yours. What a sneaky asshole! You nodded and signed the copyright waiver. He'll bring you back because you're sure your contest will win.

"Thank you for your cooperation and understanding! The company appreciates your contribution." he said officially, and these words were meaningless to you. "So tomorrow you don't have to be present at the final," he said as he took the documents from you.

"But I'll be there," you said, clutching your bag, "I'll help whoever is presenting the project, make sure everything goes perfectly."

Yongwon smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, that would be very professional of you."

"I take it you've already chosen someone to take my place?"

"Yes. The counselor and I thought that the only one who could replace you is Yuna, because she's in the know and Jaehwan doesn't have a big mouth, so it'll be her."

You felt the nausea of nerves and irritation rise to your throat, but you kept all your emotions in check.

"Okay, then. I'll help Yuna with her performance," you said. You stood up and said goodbye to your boss and walked out of his office on wobbly legs.

The next morning you were at the competition. You supported Yuna, telling her where to place the accents, how to behave, how to answer possible questions from the jury. And when she came out to present your project, you stood backstage and clenched your fists, forcing yourself to breathe.

And then came the victory. Your project was recognized by the jury, and ‘EON Creative’ received not only an award but also funding, recognition, and new contacts. You stood back, happy and... devastated at the same time.

You went over and congratulated the boss and Yuna. They thanked you for your good work, but you couldn't accept their words sincerely, you just smiled and said "thank you."

You didn't notice how quickly the time passed. You looked at your phone and saw that it was already four o'clock in the evening. At that very moment, you received a call from Jungkook.

"Hello," you said happily into the phone.

"Hey kitten, where are you?" he asked softly.

"I'm at the COEX Convention & Exhibition Center. At the finals of the contest."

"Do you remember that we have a plane to Jeju today? It leaves at eight o'clock. I'm not far away, do you want me to come pick you up?"

You gasp, going to a quieter place.

"I forgot. With this contest, everything slipped my mind. I didn't even pack my suitcase..." you admitted.

"Wait for me at the entrance, I'll be there in 10 minutes," Jungkook said, and you hung up the phone, agreement with.

Jungkook arrived exactly ten minutes later, as promised. You quickly said goodbye to everyone and went to the car. When you got in, you couldn't contain your joy.

"Kook, my project won! I'm so happy," you said, smiling, although for some reason you felt bitter in the middle.

"Really?" Jungkook was surprised. "I knew you would win! And you were worried. You worked hard," he praised you.

"Thank you," you said gratefully, "We all worked hard. Yuna did so well. She remembered everything I told her."

Jungkook looked at you.

"Yuna? Who's Yuna?" he asked with a subtle strain in his voice, "I thought you were supposed to be representing the project."

You sighed, turning your head back to the road. You swallowed the lump in your throat and answered:

"My boss asked me to withdraw from the project in favor of the company... He said that my presence could be harmful. But he promised to bring me back to work from the Monday."

Silence fell in the car. When you realized that Jungkook was not responding to your words, you turned to him. He was frowning, and you noticed his eyebrows were drawn together in the center. His eyes were staring straight at the road.

"What?" you looked at him anxiously, "Why are you so angry?"

"Nothing," he said shortly. You also drawn your eyebrows together, hearing the pulse in your ears.

"What do you mean ‘nothing’? Why are you so angry all of a sudden?" you felt irritation wash over you. Jungkook remained silent and you started to get angrier.

"He's not going to let you go back to work," he finally said, stopping at a traffic light.

You were dumbfounded.

"Why?" came out of your mouth on automatic.

"I asked Manager Lee to find out your work account so I could transfer the money to you. And he told me today that your account is no longer active. You were fired a week ago."

Jungkook kept silent about the fact that it was not just a firing. Yongwon didn't write the reason "by mutual agreement" that wouldn't affect your career. He wrote "Dismissal for violation of the company's internal ethical standards related to behavior that could potentially damage the company's reputation" which, in short, puts an end to your future activities. Jungkook was furious. And now, learning that he had brazenly stolen your project and would use it to boost his image to the next level tore Jungkook's patience to shreds.

"What...." you said quietly, looking at Jungkook's profile, and only after he said that did you realize that the last money from the company came to your personal account, not your work account. You didn't pay much attention to it, even though it was an obvious confirmation of your dismissal.

The light turned green and Jungkook and after driving a little bit, pulled over to the side. You sat down straight, staring at your hands. Tears were already coming and choking you. You couldn't stop yourself from crying. Jungkook stopped the engine and bent down and hugged you.

"Please don't cry. I will deal with Kang Yougwon. He will be held accountable for what he did to you."

You were crying, not knowing what to do. Hearing Jungkook's words somewhere above your head, you suddenly felt a surge of anger. He says he'll figure it out, but why did he wait until now? Until you were fired?

You agreed to his deal in the hope that he would give you your job back. You didn't want the position at the parent company. All you wanted was to get your good name back and the job you had earned on your own. And because of him, everything is ruined. Everything.

You pushed him away, sharply, with all the strength left in your exhausted body.

"Don't touch me!" you shouted with tears in your eyes.

Jungkook froze, looking at you in confusion, but you couldn't stop. The words poured out in a stream - bitter, painful, the kind of words that come out only when the soul can't take it anymore.

"It's all because of you!" came out of your mouth. "If it wasn't for you, I would still be working. You should have told me who you really are. And then I would never have asked you..." you cried, almost unable to see Jungkook's expression through your tears. "My career..." you sobbed, turning away to the window, "I worked so hard... I lived for this job. I gave up everything to achieve it. And now..." you turned back to him, desperation in your voice, "now in one damn line I've been erased from the industry! Forever!"

"Y/N," he began, but you interrupted.

"Don't say anything!" you exclaimed. "You said... you said you'd you'd fix all . You could have stopped it before, I asked you to, you could have! But you did nothing." A flame burned in your eyes, scorching even his cold composure. "You were silent until I was thrown out. That bastard appropriated my project. And now - now - you just say 'don't cry'?" you laughed hoarsely through your tears, dismissively. "My life is ruined, Jungkook. Do you hear me? Shattered."

You looked at him, and you didn't want to hear or see him anymore. To hell with him. Fuck his deal. You've had enough.

You grabbed the door handle and wanted to leave, but it was locked. You didn't turn to him and said angrily:

"Open it."

Jungkook touched your arm.

"Y/N calm down. Let's talk about everything normally."

You pushed his hand away angrily. You didn't want him to touch you at all.

"Take your hands off me and open the fucking car. I don't want to see you."

He tried to calm you down again, but you were desperate.

"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!" you shouted and cried harder.

He was silent, and then he pushed the button and the door clicked open.

You got out of the car, slamming the door loudly. You quickly go away from the car, sometimes breaking into a run. You cried with all your might, feeling a terrible pain in your chest. The whole world was not nice to you. You cried in disbelief that everything had gone wrong.

Fate was mocking you. Because as soon as you felt that you had everything, it all disappeared.

⇠ Previous ⟡ Index ➩ ⟡ Next ⇢

[curse-of-art]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS

🔞 All of these fics contain smut, so please take your own risk 🔞

-BEWARE OF THEIR WARNINGS-

୨ৎ─ Jungkook Part 2 ─୨ৎ─ Taehyung ─୨ৎ

❥ Friends Within Touching Distance (series/completed, friends with benefits to lovers ) by @dailynnt

❥ One Night as the Price of a Request (series/ongoing, fake relationship au, enemies to lovers) by @dailynnt

❥ Captive of His Attention (series/ongoing, enemies to lovers, university au) by @dailynnt

❥ Aurora (oneshot, exes to lovers) by @dailynnt

❥ Between Feigned Hatred and Real Desire (oneshot, brother's bestfriend) by @dailynnt

❥ A Quarrel, Alcohol and You (oneshot, friends to lovers) by @dailynnt

❥ Truth or Dare : Kiss a Friend (oneshot, friends to lovers) by @dailynnt

❥ Not Their Wedding Car (oneshot, enemies to ??) by @dailynnt

❥ The Alpha Omega Series (werewolf au, childhood bestfriends to enemies to lovers) by @borathae

❥ Cold Gun (oneshot, arranged marriage, gun play) by @borathae

❥ Fuck Me Up (series/ongoing, enemies to lovers) by @jungkoode

❥ Bed Chem (mini series/completed, frenemies to ?) by @muniimyg

❥ Close To You (series/completed, friends with benefits to lovers) by @muniimyg

❥ Bad Habit (series/ongoing, soulmate au, strangers/friends to lovers) by @muniimyg

❥ Dissonance (series/ongoing, enemies to lovers, slow burn) by @bangtan-junkie

❥ The Only One (series/completed, mafia au, contract relationship) by @armpirate

❥ Red (series/ongoing, demon au) by @armpirate

❥ The Beast of Busan (yandere/dark themes, optional ending) by @trivia-yandere

❥ M.I.L.F (series/ongoing, yandere, age gap) by @trivia-yandere

❥ Cruel Intentions (series/completed, yandere, mafia au) by @explicit-tae

❥ Ungodly Hours (series/completed, college au) by @explicit-tae

❥ Ruin You (series/completed, ft.Taehyung) by @taegularities

❥ Meraki (oneshot, enemies to lovers) by @taegularities

❥ Lowkey (series/completed, fake dating au, friends to lovers) by @xpeachesncream

❥ We Are All Dreamers (oneshot, soulmate au, enemies to lovers) by @yoonia

❥ Lost & Found (oneshot, something like ex crushes to lovers i guess??) by @kooktrash

❥ Better Than Him (oneshot, fake dating au, friends to lovers) by @margotw10bis

❥ Polarity (series/completed, yandere) by @darkestcorners

❥ Unspoken (oneshot, boyfriend's friend) by @armpirate

❥ Over the Odds (series/completed, sugar daddy au, ceo!jungkook) by @jungk0oksthighs

❥ Christmas & Chill (christmas themed mini series -seperate fics-) by @girlygguk & @lovieku

❥ Kkangpae (series/ongoing, enemies to lovers, forbidden love, slow burn) by @jungkoode

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Series Page

Jeon Jungkook Series

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab)

❥genre/rating: 18 + explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits

❥description: You and Jungkook have always been at each other's throats, bound by a mutual disdain that runs deep. You both would rather step into traffic than be alone together. But when a chance encounter at a wedding leads to an unexpected and forbidden arrangement, the lines between enemies and something more begin to blur.

As your fiery clashes give way to stolen moments and fragile truces, both of you are forced to confront the pain and secrets that have kept you apart for so long. When the past and present collide, you and Jungkook must decide whether the scars you both hide are worth revealing—and if your fractured bond can ever be whole again.

❥warnings/tags: Lawyer!Jungkook, Nurse!reader, medical trauma/examinations/procedures, family trauma, slooooowwwww burrrrrnnnnnnnnnn, SMUT, these two really do hate each other, long series, swearing, drinking, smoking, angst, hurt/comfort, silly at times, tae is a menace, misunderstandings, miscommunication, unreliable information, eventual fluff, eventual pining, mentions of cheating (not the main pair), minor character death (none of the boys), eventual happy ending (it’s gonna be a minute)

❥disclaimer: Fic is cross posted to ao3, every chapter I will give associated warnings and tags that apply.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・.・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Prologue // Ch.1 // Ch.2 // Ch.3 // Ch.4 // Ch.5 // Ch.6 // Ch.7 // Ch.8 // Ch.9 // Ch.10 // Ch.11 // Ch.12 // Ch.13 // Ch.14 // Ch.15 // Ch.16 // Ch.17 // Ch.18 // Ch.19 // Ch.20 // Ch.21 // Ch.22 // Ch.23 // Ch.24 // Ch.25 //... More to Come

Ch.7 EXTRA // PLAYLIST

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

[bangtan-junkie]

Dissonance (Part 1) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST

Word Count: 5744 words

Synopsis:

Your coworker, Jungkook, got on your nerves. While everyone saw him as sweet and charming, you saw his true (annoying) colours that lay beneath. It was no secret that you hated him. No one knew that more than him. But a night out, drinks in your system, and a girl flirting with Jungkook in front of you might bring up some uglier feelings and be Jungkook's last straw.

Note:

lol sorry I'm not great with synopses. but yeah this is rly just angst and filth enjoyyy. part 2 soon hopefully. also would love requests or feedback so lmk

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as Jungkook spoke. Jungkook was a newer employee and the whole office knew you didn't like him one bit. He was a kiss-ass and there was nothing you hated more than a kiss-ass. Not only was he a kiss-ass, he was also annoyingly good looking which only made people like him more. While you were busy busting your ass for work and cleaning up after other peoples' mess, he was able to get anyone to do whatever he wanted with a flash of his smile. To top it all off, nearly every woman in your office threw themselves at him - even the senior ladies. You couldn't stand it. Watching them twirling their hair, putting a hand on his chest as they laughed at his every word, it made you sick. What was worse was watching him flirt back - seeing him check them out, grab them by the waist, or whisper in their ears. Everything about him made your blood boil and you refused to give him an easy time like everyone else.

Jungkook was fully aware of your disdain for him. He didn’t miss how your eyes rolled when he walked into the room, or how you avoided him like he was the plague. He paid no attention to it at first, trying his best to charm you as he did with your peers. But every smile, joke, or conversation was shut down. He thought it wouldn’t bother him, but with each passing day, every scowl, every eye roll, and every glare, he felt his irritation growing. But he refused to give you the satisfaction of knowing that he cared about your opinion. Instead, he tried his best to show you that you had no affect on him at all. With every insult you threw at him, he turned it around and threw a cheeky, flirty comment back at you. He only did it because he knew it would piss you off even more. As amusing as it was, his frustration was building up as you pushed his buttons.

Unfortunately for the both of you, you shared a social circle at work because you were in the same department. As if you didn't get enough of each other at work, you were occasionally forced into seeing each other outside of work when your coworkers decided to go out. Tonight was one of those cursed nights as your group agreed to go out for drinks after work. So you sat at the end of the booth, downing your drinks faster than you probably should, watching one of the girls attempt to seduce Jungkook in the booth. You tried to focus on the conversation happening on the other side of you but found your mind wandering back to the two of them. She was practically in his lap by this point and had unbuttoned a few buttons of her top. Jungkook's arm was snaked around her waist while his other hand lingered along the hem of her skirt. You downed your next drink, trying to drown the burning sensation you felt in your chest. It was certainly drowning your common sense in the process, your head already beginning to feel fuzzy. The girl was asking stupid questions and resorting to plain flattery in an attempt to flirt. Your already bad mood from work combined with the drinks you were powering through was quickly worsening your mood and making you more bold.

"You're so sweet," she giggled, "No wonder everyone likes you over in your department."

"Not everyone," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook rolled his own eyes and ignored you but the girl looked over at you confused.

"Sorry?" She asked.

"Don't be. I was just agreeing with you. Jungkook is soooooooo sweet," you mocked, looking directly at him. She gave you a strange look and turned back to him.

"Looks like you're famous with all the ladies," she smiled, playing with his tie.

"Oh you have no idea," you laughed to yourself. Jungkook closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself down and avoid reacting. "His reputation exceeds him," you giggle. This time she gave you a dirty look and ignored you.

"Too bad you're not in our department. You'd be a sight for sore eyes," she raked her eyes over him and winked.

"That's about all he's useful for, you should take him really," you grumbled. That was Jungkook's last straw. He finally turned to you, acknowledging your existence.

"Are you serious right now?" He glared. Your stomach flipped as you finally got a good look at him - tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, and fury swimming in his eyes. Yeah, the alcohol is definitely getting to me - you thought to yourself. You just shrugged in response.

“Get up. Now,” Jungkook demanded, voice low. You rolled your eyes but complied and slid off your chair as Jungkook slid out of the booth. As soon as you were up, you were being dragged away with a tight grip on your wrist, . He took you to the far corner of the bar, out of sight from the booth everyone was at. You rubbed your wrist in pain when let go of you.

“What are you doing?” He asked. You noticed the tick in his jaw as he clenched it. It made his jawline look even sharper. Dragging your gaze away from his jaw back to his eyes, you gave him a questioning look. “Don’t play fucking dumb right now,” he belittled. Your stomach dropped at the insult.

“I know you’re celibate, but I’m trying to take this girl home and fuck her brains out,” he sneered.

You gulped. Something about this Jungkook was doing something to you. He never got angry with you. He always had a witty remark for every insult you threw his way. Seeing him like this was different; it was more real than his cocky facade. His brows were furrowed and he was glaring at you like he wanted to grab you by the neck. Fuck he looks so hot. Normally you would never let yourself think that, but the alcohol swirling in you was clouding your judgment. Fortunately, you were still sober enough to hide your lustful gaze.

“I’m trying to save the girl from a night of disappointment and misery,” you snickered. Your answer only seemed to anger him more. He stepped forward and you took a step back. His annoyance was written all over his face. A few more steps and he’d backed you against a wall and caged you in with a hand placed next to your face. You had never been so close to Jungkook before. Was he always this handsome? You could only stare up at him and hope he didn’t notice how turned on you were.

“We both know you don’t believe that,” he said, leaning down, his face way too close to yours. “You think I’m such a man whore right? Surely you don’t think I have these women coming back just for my pretty face?” He mocked you. You felt your face flush. “Then what is it? Why are you cockblocking me?”

You weren’t completely sure why you were acting the way you were. Watching that girl press up so close to him, whisper in his ear, laugh at his every work - it made you sick. Yet you couldn’t look away, you watched as he flirted so shamelessly and your stomach swirled with disgust.

“She’s fucking stupid. She fell for you. Really I’m doing her a favour.”

“Why do you care Y/n? Just because you don’t want me, doesn’t mean other people don’t.”

“Because they look so dumb fawning over you,” your gaze was hazy, “all they see is how ha-,” your eyes trailed down to his pretty lips, having the little sense to cut yourself off before saying what you were going to say. “They’re always the same; flipping their hair, laughing at your dumb jokes, climbing into your lap. And you eat it up every time.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed for a moment before he scoffed.

“What, are you jealous sweetheart?” He joked dryly. “Wish it was you instead?” He asked, trying to annoy you and fully expecting you to get angry. Turns out, it worked. Something fiery and ugly crawled through your veins as the words left his mouth, making you feel hot. You couldn’t face what the feeling was - just knowing Jungkook was making you feel something so dark was enough to stop your train of thought. You refused to become one of those girls...you couldn't.

“You know what? Never mind, you guys are perfect for each other,” you mumbled while quickly slipping under his arms. The possibility of you being jealous was sobering. It cleared your mind enough to know you should get back to the table. Enough to see how dangerously close to disaster you were. But just as you made it a foot past him, he pulled you back, pressing your back against the wall. His gaze was different now - dark and piercing. It held you captive, like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t look away and neither could you pull out of the tight grip he had on your arm.

“What, that’s it? Not even gonna give me shit for that?” He questioned. The words were meant to be teasing but instead they sounded angry, nearly spiteful. His mind was racing as he put the whole picture together but refused to believe it. Embarrassment replaced the ugly feeling clawing up your throat, making your body burn up. His gaze became too intense and you had to look away. But he was not going to make this easy for you. He grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him as he patiently waited for you to say something, to deny what he was thinking. This was a whole new side of him that you were seeing for the first time. What was worse was that some part of you liked it. Your embarrassment reached a new height as the tension grew thicker between you. You wanted to scream, to run, to get as far away from Jungkook as you could - anything but admit this new found truth. Tears threatened to wallow in your eyes as the unease began eating you alive. But you forced them back, refusing to embarrass yourself any further. After several moments of silence from you, Jungkook let go of your jaw and scoffed in disbelief.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he uttered, bewildered, before hanging his head. The short moment gave you reprieve, a second to breathe again now that he wasn’t looking into your soul. Your mouth opened to say something, anything to redeem yourself, but shut when you couldn’t think of anything. Then Jungkook was chuckling, which turned into a laugh that made his shoulders shake. It wasn’t a joyous laughter. No, it was mocking, cruel.

“This whole time,” he started, his laughter dying down as he looked at you again, “I thought there was an actual reason you hated me.” He straightened his back, now towering above you, and moved closer. He was looking at you like he was going to eat you alive. You quickly avoided his gaze, choosing to stare straight ahead at his chest instead. One of his hands came up to tangle in your hair before he yanked it, forcing you to look at him again. You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he pulled your hair. It only fueled that hunger in his eyes.

“All this time, you just needed to be stuffed full of cock huh? Needed me to fuck the attitude out of you?”

The words immediately sent a rush of arousal to your core, leaving you breathless. If it wasn't for the little bit of pride left in you, you would've jumped him. Jungkook watched as your eyes filled with lust and anger as you steeled your resolve. He quickly glanced around to see if any of your coworkers were nearby before grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the washroom. All you heard was the door locking before you were pinned to the wall.

“Come on Y/n, I wanna hear you say it. Tell me you're jealous. Tell me you want to be in my bed instead of her,” he growled, getting more bold by the second. You gulped, struggling to contain your reactions.

"Shut up," you spat out, finally finding your voice. "Go fuck her for all I care." You gave him the best glare you could muster up. Jungkook's eyes lit up with the challenge you presented, but the dark glint in them made you nervous. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"If you're gonna lie, at least do it well," he taunted, his breath hitting your lips.

"I don't care what you do Jungkook. Just let me go" you whined, straining your wrists in his grip. He only tightened his hold on you, hiking your wrists further up the wall and forcing you on your tippy toes. His sheer strength was slightly jarring as you were left helpless in his grip.

"Yeah?," he scoffed, "then maybe I should go back out there and pick up where I left off." You felt your stomach drop at his suggestion. Some part of you deep down wanted more. But an even bigger part of you couldn't stand the thought of enduring more of him flirting with that girl.

"She's a bold one, you know? She kept pushing my hand up her thigh, closer to where she really wanted it," he teased, voice low.

His hand trailed along your waist, over your hips, then down your thigh. Your breath hitched at the gentle touch. His fingers brushed along the hem of your skirt, which suddenly felt too short. You couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from his tattooed fingers that threatened to slip under your skirt. Your heart pounded in your chest as thoughts of what else his hands could do flashed through your mind. Taking advantage of your silence, he continued.

"She's filthy, she would've let me touch her pussy right there at the table," he groaned. "Could've had her riding my fingers in front of everyone, trying her best to stay quiet." You shot him a glare, finding the thought repulsive - unless it was you he was touching of course. "Would you rather I leave you here and go do that?"

"Fuck you," you answered with a little too much anger and disgust. It was obvious that you cared, and you hated that. Jungkook raised a brow, a satisfied smirk dawning his lips.

"I'll take that as a no," he mused, fingertips dipping under your skirt, ghosting over the inside of your thigh. You let out a shaky breath.

"I didn't...I mean...," you stumbled over your words, trying to find an excuse. You didn't want him to have the upper hand. It hurt your ego.

"Come on, use your words Y/n. Tell me why you don't want me to go," he patronized, waiting to hear your answer. His fingers continued to trail upwards, making you fluster more. You ignored his request, hyperaware of his touch. If he moved his fingers any further up, he'd be able to feel your arousal and the thought was mortifying. He'd never let you live it down.

"Jungkook," you gasped, getting higher on your tippy toes in an attempt to get his fingers a little further away.

"Yes?" He answered, intrigued by the sudden flustered expression on your face.

"Don't...your fingers," you managed to say, squirming under him.

"What about them?" He asked, stilling their movement but dug them into the flesh of your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and muttered a prayer under your breath.

"This isn't appropriate.." you said shakily, staring at the his hand disappeared under your skirt. He scoffed at your words.

"Not appropriate?" he chuckled. "You know what else is inappropriate? The constant belittling and insults you throw my way." The amusement dissipated from his voice. "The way you humiliate me in front of everyone is inappropriate Y/n," his words pierced you. The internal battle between guilt and arousal you were feeling left your head fuzzy.

"Listen, I'm sorr-" you started, genuinely wanting to apologize, seeing how upset he was. But he cut you off, not wanting to hear your apology.

"And what's especially inappropriate is the way you're looking at me right now," he growled. A rush of arousal flowed through you as he called you out. "It's inappropriate how your eyes are begging me to touch you."

The breath was knocked out of you as he pointed out everything that you thought he hadn't noticed. "I bet if I touched you right now, you'd be fucking soaked," he said, voice low.

"Jungkook please," you said breathlessly, begging him to stop speaking as your legs threatened to give out under you.

"Please what?" he asked, forcing you to spell it out for him.

"Please...I can't.." you whimpered. The sound made him groan.

"You can't?" he questioned, "Can't take it anymore?" Your eyes threatened to tear up again. "Want me to stop? Or do you want me to touch you?"

You took a second to think about it, calming your overwhelmed nerves. Were you actually going to give in to your desires? Was it worth the never ending humiliation and mockery you'd face after? You took one look at his hungry eyes and decided - fuck it.

"Touch me," you finally said, heart racing. His eyes darkened and he wasted no time in obliging. He quickly hiked your skirt up to your hips, his fingers slipping between your clothed folds. All thoughts escaped your mind as Jungkook finally touched you where you wanted.

"Fuck, you really are soaked - for me," he growled. You had half the mind to remind him that he was also clearly enjoying himself. But your eyes fluttered shut and the words transformed into a moan as his fingers rubbed over your clit again. Pleasure coursed through your body, the tension between you two only adding to the fire between your legs. "I turn you on that much?"

You could only huff in response, too focused on the pleasure. His fingers slid down, rubbing through your wetness. Then he stopped. You groaned at the loss, opening your eyes to shoot him a glare. You were met with Jungkook's dark, lustful gaze. His eyes scanned your features hungrily, catching on your lips before stopping at your eyes. The look on your face was one he was used to. The look of anger, frustration, borderline hate. Usually he despised it, but in that moment he savoured it. This time, it was mixed with desperation - desire. It made him proud that he was able to push you to this point.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked, clearly annoyed.

"So cute how you think you'll get your way every time," he mumbled, a devilish smirk resting on his lips. "You know what one of the first things I noticed about you was? How you weren't afraid to speak your mind." It felt strange to hear Jungkook complimenting you like this, but you still felt like this was a trap. "Obviously, back then I didn't know that I'd grow to hate it," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

"But I want you to speak your mind now. You've always said every terrible thing you thought about me. So tell me what you're thinking about me now Y/n," he said, eyes staring into your soul like he knew every filthy thought that was running through your mind. He moved closer, his lips grazing against your ear as he whispered, "Still thinking of how much you hate me?"

"No," you answered, wanting him to get on with it.

"What are you thinking then?" Every inch of you screamed at you not to answer. But you knew there was only one way out of this. Jungkook wanted the truth, he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm thinking about your hands, your fingers," you said softly, grateful that he had his face buried in your neck so that you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"What about 'em?" His breathing was ragged against your skin, like he couldn't wait to finally hear the words.

"Thinking about how good they look on my legs," you admitted, heart racing. Jungkook didn't answer, only taking a sharp breath in. A few more seconds of silence and you gulped, deciding to take the leap.

"Thinking about how big your hands are. And how good your fingers would feel inside of me," you said, gasping as his fingers resumed their ministrations. Jungkook pulled his head back, finally looking at you again, a dark lust painted across his features.

"Thinking about cumming on your fingers and your cock," you said, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure worked its way through your body again. "Thinking about how much I hate that you're making me feel this way."

Jungkook cursed under his breath, making you open your eyes.

"Why?" The question was simple, but it felt heavy. His eyes bore into your; anger, lust, and focus swirling around in them.

"I don't wanna be one of those girls," you answered, voice barely above a whisper. A cold look washed over his face for a brief moment.

"How does it feel then? You're here, soaked and begging me to touch you. About to cum on my fingers. I'm the one making you feel this good," he growled, fingers picking up their pace. "Are you angry? Disgusted?"

His fingers had you hurtling towards the edge, leaving your mind hazy. You barely processed his question as the pressure built up in your core again. All you could do was moan his name as you quickly reached your climax. But then his fingers were gone, leaving you crashing. There was a moment of silence as disbelief and anger coursed through you. When you looked back at him, his expression seemed colder.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” you nearly shouted when you finally came back to your senses. “I was so close!” you grit through your teeth.

“Oh were you?” Jungkook mocked, observing your angered reaction.

“I should’ve known. Of course you’re a selfish douchebag in bed too,” you spat. A smirk formed on his lips as he raised a brow at your words.

“It’s bewildering that those girls come back when you can’t even get them off once. I guess it is just for your pretty face,” you sneered, wanting him to him to be equally as pissed of as you. He let go of your wrists and buried a hand in your hair before yanking it back. You yelped at the harsh tug that forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

“God you really just keep running your mouth, don’t ya?” He growled. “A few more seconds and we both know you would’ve creamed your panties.” You gulped at his words, unable to deny them.

“But only good girls get to cum,” he whispered, his hot breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine. He let go of your hair, putting a little space between you two. “You think you deserve to cum?” He asked.

“After months of being an asshole to me, never listening to anything I said, treating me like an idiot? All because you wanted my cock stuffed in your tight pussy.” The anger swirling in his eyes only turned you on more.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily Y/n?” he mocked. “After all that, did you think I’d let you have your way? Maybe finally fuck you how you’ve wanted? Have you screaming my name, squirting all over my cock, over and over again?” While his words added to the arousal between your legs, his tone left you humiliated. You could feel your face getting hotter.

“I’m sorry,” you managed to mutter while staring at the floor. Jungkook chuckled darkly before grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

“Oh baby, no. Sorry won’t cut it. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to earn it,” he growled, staring right into your eyes.

Then he let go of your jaw. He was angry with you, so angry. But watching you beg, cry his name, submit to him made his cock impossibly hard. As he fumbled with his belt and pants, you understood what he wanted. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees before him. Jungkook cursed under his breath at the way you looked up at him. You reached forward to help him as he shakily unzipped his pants, but he merely brushed your hands away. You waited patiently, your heart racing in anticipation of finally seeing his cock. Relief spread across his face when he finally pulled his aching cock out of its confines. You licked your lips at the sight. Jungkook’s hand squeezed at the base as he slapped your cheek with his cock.

“Open,” he demanded. You obeyed, opening your mouth and letting your tongue out. Jungkook slapped his heavy cock on your tongue, groaning as you looked up at him. His cock twitched against your tongue as he admired the lewd image in front of him. You swirled your tongue around the tip before closing your lips around it. Jungkook grunted, still looking at you with dark eyes. But he refused to move, leaving you to do all the work for now. So, you slowly sunk your mouth down on his cock, brushing his hands away from the base. When you’d finally sunk all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook’s head rolled back and he let out a heavy sigh that sounded suspiciously like a whimper. Seeing him crumble under your touch boosted your pride and ego. Feeling like you finally had some power in this situation, you decided to go further, just to pull more of those cute whimpers out of him. You pulled back before sinking down on him again, letting his cock hit the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck, he moaned, his hands flying to the back of your head to grab your hair. You repeated the action two more times, pulling a string of curses and moans from his lips that hit your ears like music. Just as you were pulling your head back for another time, Jungkook’s hands pushed your head forward, thrusting his own hips so his cock was buried deep in your throat. The action caught you off guard, your hands coming up to hold his thighs, attempting to stabilize yourself. Your throat burned at the abrupt intrusion and you felt tears beginning to well in your eyes as he held you there. But the look of pleasure etched on his face and the pretty moans leaving his lips were incentive enough for you to stay there. You tried your best to focus on breathing through your nose as he buried his cock as deep as he could.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Who knew your mouth felt this fucking good?” He asked rhetorically, his voice low and hoarse, finally opening his eyes. Seeing you looking up at him with his cock stuffed down your throat, tears streaming down your face, and trying your best to nod to his question proved to be overwhelming for Jungkook. He felt like he could cum right there and then. With a growl, he yanked you off his cock, finally giving you a chance to breathe. You coughed as you tried to catch your breath, trying to wipe away your tears and the saliva dripping down your chin. He had to look away from you for a moment or he thought he’d go crazy. So he slowly stroked his cock, letting his head roll back, as you caught your breath.

You breathed heavily, unable to do anything but look up at him in a haze. As soon as you caught your breath, you wrapped your lips around his cock again. Jungkook looked at you through hooded eyes as you eagerly sank down on his cock again. He didn’t even give you a second to readjust, a hand fisting your hair as his hips snapped forward. He set a rough pace, leaving your throat feeling raw already. You could feel his anger and frustration with every thrust.

“Fuck, I should’ve just done this,” he growled. “Every time you ran your mouth, should’ve just stuffed it with cock. Bet you would’ve loved that,” he grunted, quickly getting close to the edge. You whimpered softly around him, unsure if you were agreeing or not. “Such a fucking slut,” he groaned, punctuating the words with harsh thrusts. His movements were getting rougher and sloppier as he hurtled closer to the edge. You held onto his thighs for support, letting him use your mouth.

“Fuck I’m getting close,” he groaned. He cursed under his breath seeing the anticipation in your eyes. He quickly yanked your head back and stroked his cock quickly. “Fucking hell, you know how bad I wanna cum all over your face? Let everyone at the table see what a fucking cockslut you are for me?” He groaned, his hand moving quickly. You stared up at him, burning the sight into your mind.

“Don’t care, just want your cum,” you gasped, still catching your breath. That was all Jungkook needed to hear to completely lose himself.

He quickly buried his cock in your mouth again as he came. Curses and moans spilled from his lips, his hot cum shooting down your throat. You could see his adam’s apple move with every groan and it was driving you crazy. There was no doubt that you were soaking wet and you ached to be filled up. Your tongue soothed his cock, coaxing him to give you more. Even after he finished, he kept himself buried in your mouth, savouring the feeling. After a few moments, he finally pulled away. His gaze was piercing as he tucked himself back into his pants, straightening himself up. You finally stood up again, brushing at your aching knees. Your heart was pounding in your ears at the anticipation of what was going to come. After all, you’d definitely been good to him. Jungkook looked at your sloppy appearance and smiled sadistically.

“Who knew you were such a filthy slut?” He taunted, brushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Sucking dick in a public bathroom so desperately,” he mocked. His tone made your stomach drop. Your heart continued racing with excitement and unease. He leaned in closer. “Should be enough dick to get you through the next week without being a bitch to me, right?”

You couldn’t hide the wince at his words. The spite in his voice stung. Sure he was degrading you before, but this time he sounded like he meant it. He stepped back from you, looking over you without a hint of warmth. “Might wanna clean up before you come back out,” he said nonchalantly, unlocking the bathroom door. “Wouldn’t want everyone to know that you had my cock down your throat,” he said coldly. Then he was out the door, leaving you a mess, alone in the bathroom. You couldn’t move for a few moments, still trying to process what had just happened. You’d never seen him that angry and bitter before. You couldn’t believe that he’d just left you to clean yourself up after all that. The only thing that snapped you out of your thoughts was the thought of someone walking in on you like this. You finally moved to lock the door again.

“What the fuck,” you sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You shot yourself a dirty look, seeing the state you were in. You felt humiliated. As you fixed yourself up, you mentally cursed yourself for letting your guard down around Jungkook. You should’ve known that he would act like a dick. Underneath that charming exterior, he was downright awful. Of course he would insult and humiliate you after getting what he wanted. You could feel the anger bubble up in your chest, threatening to make you march back to the table and yell at him in front of everyone. But you knew you couldn’t. You’d be exposing yourself in that process and the last thing you wanted people to know was that you gave in to Jungkook. You couldn’t be seen as one of those stupid girls that were chasing him all the time. You weren’t one of them. Taking a deep breath to calm down, you took one last look in the mirror. After making sure you looked decent again, you finally stepped out of the bathroom.

As you walked back to the table, an obnoxious, high pitched laugh made your stomach churn with dread. Jungkook sat there, his arm draped over the booth behind the same girl from before, smirking as he spoke to her. She was leaning in so close that any movement would have their lips touching. You felt sick when he whispered in her ear, chuckling at whatever she responded with. You could’ve thrown up right there and then, your blood running cold. There was no way in hell you were gonna sit there and watch him act like this after everything that happened. As soon as you got to the table, you grabbed your bag and jacket, refusing to look at the two of them.

“Hey, Y/n are you leaving?” someone asked. You couldn’t even tell who was talking, too busy trying to escape this hell. “Yeah, feeling kinda sick,” you mumbled, already turning on your heels. You heard some ‘goodbye’s and ‘feel better’s from behind you but you just hastily waved without turning around. When you finally got into the cold night, the air felt like a slap to your face. It smacked some sense back into you. Your mind reeled with the events of the night and you wondered what you could’ve possibly been thinking. You just started speed walking, nearly sprinting, towards the subway, desperate to get home and wash the filth and disgust that caked your skin and clawed at your insides.

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK - Masterlist

Now Completed!!

🗲summary:

It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens?

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲overall word count: ~80k 🗲genre: angst, action, slow burn, enemies to lovers, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, weapons, swearing, arguing, injury, past trauma, mentions of death (these are general warnings; chapter-specific warnings are listed per chapter)

Teaser

Character Moodboards/Bios: Jungkook | Yoongi | Hobi | V | Jimin | Jin | Namjoon | You

Supercharged Playlist

Chapter 1 - The Light Dies He’s the hero. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the villain.

Chapter 2 - Reign of Mercy There’s a whole world here, where your curse can start to bloom…

Chapter 3 - Figure it Out You become Jungkook’s problem.

Chapter 4 - We aren't Heroes, Honey A chaotic arrival turns everything on its head, and the boys are ready to let you in on their real game.

Chapter 5 - Scared of a Little Lightning With the threat of Bolt rising, so do tensions within the base.

Chapter 6 - Burn Out When things get ahead of you, your powers aren’t the only things to spill over; some truth is ready to breach the surface.

Chapter 7 - Spark to Life “We don’t have time to argue” “No, we don't”

Chapter 8 - On the Force Jungkook smiles at you for the first time (and the second).

Chapter 9 - Thank me Later Our villains get their moment in the sun (well, the fire…)

Chapter 10 - Is This Not Control? You’re forced to come to terms with the danger – and the beauty – in the way your powers burn.

Chapter 11 - Right Beside You Jungkook has you to thank, if only he knew how.

Chapter 12 - Into the Depths If you aren’t cut out to be with them, then you’ll just have to go it alone.

Chapter 13 - One of Us Jungkook doesn’t seem to be angry for the reasons you expected.

Chapter 14 - Cover Me An unprecedented strike at the heart of bangtan leaves you baring yours.

Chapter 15 - Powerless It’s time to make the fight on your terms.

Epilogue - Sweet Taste How it all boiled down.

Updates every Sunday! To be on the taglist, send me a message, ask or comment!💜(now closed as series is completed! but comments are always still welcome)

[lbxbx]

Accidentally Yours 1 | JJK

Pair: Jungkook x reader

Summary: revenge never tasted that good when you decide to get back at the man - who ran you over - with the worst punishment he could ever get, and despite all the grudge, maybe some time after, the grudge will gradually turn into something else..?

Genre: e2l, biker jk, series ( a long one.), smut, fluff, angst.

Warnings: mentions of car accidents, mentions of fractured bone and hospitals, mentions of insecurities, cranky oc, mentions of drugs and money laundering.

Taglist open ‼️

Mood board 1 | Mood board 2

It’s a Tuesday night in October and it’s one of your usual work nights where your beloved routine takes place. It's nothing out of the ordinary really, it’s evening time and you had just finished creating your content and filming it.

You're standing in front of your vanity mirror massaging your face after your skincare routine, your phone buzzing a notification that your food order is ready for pickup so you rush to slip something warm on.

You weren’t someone born with a certain passion or ambitious enough to get a big degree, but you did manage to get a bachelor’s degree in accounting about seven years ago and you did get a job at a local company as a junior accountant, but it just wasn’t enough.

You’d get your paycheck and spend it only on necessities, it was enough money for you to survive, but never enough to get you the life you wanted.

You ran into a couple acquaintances a couple years ago and only three hangouts later, and you’d kill to be in their shoes.

Not only were they living the life you wanted, they owned the house you imagined having in your dreams, owned luxurious cars and hell even traveled places you’ve never even heard of before.

You thought you’d find a part time job and juggle with the one you had back then but it was impossible, and when you did the math, you’ll basically still be in debt.

Instead of taking a step forward you decided to take two steps back and just quit your job, you hated waking up early and hated the fact that you worked under someone, and the money wasn’t even worth it.

One of your friends suggested content creating, and you thought it through, you have nothing to film that people would be interested in seeing, nor that life that’s worth documenting.

“No idiot, I meant onlyfans.”

And it made you feel uneasy at first, but you remember your first night filming your very first video vividly.

You invested your last couple of hundreds of bucks and got a video camera, the shop even handed you a tripod as a “thank you for buying one of our worst cameras” and you ran back home to set it up.

And honestly the whole video was you faking an orgasm and attempting to make sounds that are supposed to get you an audience. And you proceeded to edit it into a short ten minute video and post it.

The app gave you an option on how much you could charge your audience and you chose to charge only five bucks for a subscription, you’re just testing waters.

Gotta say you weren’t really hopeful about it.

You showered that night thinking, what if this was actually it? You might have just changed your life with the stupid few minutes you just filmed of you putting on an act.

Not even 20 minutes later you head out and run back to your phone to find a SMS message from your local bank, oh my god this has to be it.

You hurriedly unlock your phone to read the message, but it was only a confirmation text that you had connected your account to this sketchy website, which made you sulk a little, but really what were you expecting.

Even when this was a little over two years ago you still remember the second you got your first subscription, and it was basically the day after your first video, and it was only 4 subscriptions ( basically twenty bucks. ) but you knew that this was just the beginning, and you knew you had to invest more into it if you were going to live the luxurious life.

And there you are, two years later, you did buy a penthouse in a luxurious neighborhood, you managed to make your first investment and bought a couple apartments that you rent out for college students, you also bought not one, but two freaking cars that are freakishly expensive.

Not to mention you now invite your friends to go hiking or traveling together.

And last but not least, your cat Coco who you adopted right away, every time you came home you look at her with heart eyes when she waits for you by your door, she curls up right by your feet and sometimes she would make failed attempts of jumping right onto you and you find it unbelievably adorable, sometimes she’d even fall asleep right by your keyboard when you’re uploading your content and she is irreplaceable.

Fuck the degree, this is the best decision you’ve ever made.

Back to now, you’re throwing on your pair of sneakers and grabbing your car keys ready to go pick up your fried chicken. “I’ll be right back Coco okay?”

Your stomach was growling you can hear it resonate through the elevator walls, you head out the security and they greet you warmly.

Not only because you’re the most humble out of all the residents, also because you’re the most generous out of them all, treating them for dinners and lunches and sometimes buying gifts for the cleaners, they adore you. Not to mention you were a generous tipper!

You head out the building to watch a young man feeling up your car, a helmet in his hand and his motor bike parked right beside yours, now you usually didn’t mind, until you see him checking out your license plate and taking pictures of your car, his hand is about to touch the door handle before you voice out. “Hey!”

As if his body was prepared, a surge of adrenaline rushes through his system and his heartbeat becomes rapid, he’s fully alert that you’re after him now and as a response for his sense of urgency or fear, he throws on his helmet and right when he’s about to get onto his bike, he bumps into your car accidentally making the alarm go on.

“Get back here.” You are seconds away from running after him but you know you won’t be able to catch up. He manages to gain his balance back onto his motor bike right away and drives it fast enough to disappear out of your sight in seconds. “Idiot.”

You take a quick spin around your car just to check on it before unlocking it and getting in and buckling up, the stupid guy is long forgotten when you hear your stomach growling again, you haven’t had a bite after breakfast this morning, so you rush to pick up your food order and go back home.

-

Being your own boss made a bit careless about weekends, every day was a weekend to you practically, you only waited for the weekends occasionally if you were hanging out with some of your friends.

It’s Friday and the neighborhood you live in gets quite busy on the weekend nights, people who live in this areas usually host cocktail parties and reunions on fridays, some times newlyweds rent out the near by mansions for their honeymoon and it does get a little noisy.

You were never a fan of traffic and you hated having to stay long in the car so you avoided leaving your place unless it was really urgent.

“So are you coming or not?” Your best friend Natty is on the phone, you can hardly hear her when music around her is so loud.

Your friends have decided on hitting the club to celebrate someone’s promotion but with the traffic outside it was impossible for you to leave your place.

Plus you have a schedule you have to follow and you have to post something tomorrow and you haven’t filmed the content yet, so basically you had to work tonight so you’re not going anywhere, or at least that’s what you thought.

“No Nat i’m afraid not, i have some work left to do and i’m waiting for the gate keeper to come over and wash my car.”

You can easily imagine her rolling her eyes when she speaks. “Ugh, i’ll pick you up, work can wait, you’re your own boss.”

“Enjoy your night Natty, i’ll chat about it with you tomorrow.” You hang up right away and open the app on your phone to figure out what’s the meal you’ll devour on once you’re finished.

And honestly Sushi sounds good right now, so with no second thoughts you choose the items you want and add them to your cart, before you get up onto your feet and head to your room.

The room you specifically had designed for this type of content, not like it’s that type of rooms, but accent dark walls and a large bed, with the camera set up prepared all the time on standby along with the lighting ready, and a storage compartment for your “tools” and outfits.

You’ve grown to adore this job, not only do you do it to make money, but you’ve made a great amount of online subscribers that make you love doing it just so you can have a chat with them.

You get changed and right before you hit record you made sure to hit the order button for your sushi, so by the time you’re done you’ll have your food delivered by your door.

It doesn’t take you over 30 minutes to make a clip that you know you’ll have a hard time editing ( which was basically the worst part ever. ) so you get up and make it to your shower to clean up and get into a comfy pair of pants and a sweater, it was freezing cold outside and even with your fireplace on you were still freezing.

A small pop up banner on the top of your phone screen showed notifying you that the order was ready for pickup, which you recall you asked for it to be delivered.

A few clicks and failed attempts to get it delivered it was practically impossible, so you slid on your pair of sneakers and grabbed your car keys. “I’ll be home soon Coco.” You pet her and smother her with kisses before heading out.

Looks like no matter how hard you tried avoiding leaving your house you were eventually coerced to.

The traffic was unbearable, not only was it a friday night, the holiday season was coming up in a month or even less and people couldn’t stay home even when there’s a blizzard outside.

You rush to get into your car and quickly shuffle your fingers over the buttons to heat up the seats and the steering wheel. The sushi place wasn’t that far away but why walk there when you can drive? Specially when snow was expected on the weather forecast tonight. Although walking there would’ve probably been faster.

On regular basis it would’ve been a 15 to 20 minute drive to the place but on maps it was clear enough that this ride will take at least 35 to 40 minutes.

Luckily you didn’t have to worry about the temperature of your food-

Although you tried to be positive about it but you most certainly have driver’s rage and it’s starting to piss you off that the lights turned green and people aren’t driving yet.

You would’ve flashed your lights at the cars if you were patient enough but you’re not, so you honk the horn repeatedly and you couldn’t care less if people judged you for honking this late at night.

It bothers you even more that bikers just manage to slip between the vehicles and just cross the lights that are turning orange by now and soon come to red.

“Will you come on.” You whine before unbuckling your seat belt and turning off your car, and right after you leave your car and close your door, you were seconds away to scolding the driver in front of you when suddenly a searing pain is felt on your lower half, you could quite literally hear something breaking as if your bone is tearing apart, it’s jolting inside your body and it’s hard to ignore.

As if your nervous system was on alert your hand subconsciously moves to your leg, your eyesight even wonders there wondering if you even still have your leg attached to your body, and you immediately feel nauseous and breathless, you’re pretty sure you’re about to pass out.

“Maam are you okay?”

Scratch that. You already did.

The engines of the cars and bikes ( specifically the one that ran over you ) suddenly feel far away and you no longer hear them, your eyelids feel heavy and you immediately lose consciousness.

-

Okay maybe it’s not that reckless of a life, on the verge of being 30 yet feeling like he hadn’t still lived his entire dreams, he insists on doing everything he wanted even if it costed him a fortune.

Of course, he wants to go explore somewhere new? He’d do it, even if he’s in debt, he knows he’d end up starving for the rest of the month, living his best life was a priority and frankly his priorities are severely off.

He wants to drive a boat? He’d do it, even when he’s positive that he’ll never own one but hey, it’ll be a fun experience. He’ll have to give up on a couple of things this month as well

Of course his friends are joining a bikers club, why not join it too? It would be great to own a bike. It took him nights to figure out what to give up next and the only option he has was his car and in his defense it made sense. With the money he can learn how to drive a motor bike and even own the newest yet coolest bike in town.

So? Of course he sells his car and gets the lessons and even owns one of the best remodeled motor bikes ever.

This bike was a legit babe magnet, his good looks helped too but the bike played a bigger role than he did, wherever he went he would get the attention, even when he washed his bike in the nearby gas station he would have girls drooling over him.

Actually one of his latest encounters progressed into having the lady as his backpack on his bike when he drove across the city to show her how fast he can go, of course he ended up in her bed

He’s a little more financially stable now after he settled for his bike, he would end up being in debt because his job doesn’t pay that well, he does photography for fun and it was initially his hobby, he doesn’t have that many costumers but when he does he gets paid well.

His obsession for luxurious expensive cars was endless, he enjoyed visiting luxurious neighborhoods just to check out the cars there, one of the recent cars he saw was the black mercedes suv that was parked in front of a skyscraper in the middle of city and it drew all his attention, and to his shock it was driven by a young lady like you, he panicked that night and quickly rushed to get onto his bike and drove away to avoid getting into trouble.

Your car was custom made to your desire with the options you wanted, so basically it is one of a kind and there are no other cars like yours.

And tonight was one of the numerous friday nights where him and his friends would go bike outside the city and to his luck he was really late, and traffic tonight was insane, so he put his helmet on and drove really fast to catch up with his people, he started gliding through traffic and slicing through the lanes, he can hear people cursing which he was used to at this point but he needed to get there like right now!

He was focused on the narrow gaps being sure to dodge the mirrors and people who were on foot, he was a really excellent driver even when there was barely a breath of space left between his bike and other cars.

His phone let out a familiar chime signaling a new message and it had caught his attention, he was aware that his phone shouldn’t make a distraction while he’s driving but when it’s his friend Taehyung sending him a different location stating that they changed their gathering point, he had to check it out.

“Fuck-“ he muttered and tried hard to focus both on the road and on his phone, when maps loaded and showed him the new spot he pinched the screen to figure out the where the alley was when suddenly he bumped onto something- or someone he wasn’t sure, his phone fell to the floor and he was close enough to fall off his bike, hearing people panicking around him he was pretty positive that he ran over a person.

He cursed on the inside and debated on whether to stop or just run, but he did eventually hit his brakes, the screech of his tires making a deafening sound, his heart sank when he saw an actual person dragged onto the floor, a lady actually.

A look of sheer panic on his face when he realizes that this is an actual accident and it’s making a really big scene amongst this entire traffic. “Ma’am are you okay? Someone call an ambulance!” Someone yells from behind and rushes past Jungkook to offer help.

People were pretty sure they heard the sound of your bones breaking even when the engines were loud but it was unmistakable, Jungkook kneels down to the ground mortified that you could probably be dead!

“Ma’am are you okay?” And to his luck at this point you completely passed out, going totally unaware of your surroundings. Which makes him panic even more.

-

Is it nausea hitting you or what? You’re pretty sure you’re awoken by that, you’re swallowing repeatedly when your eyes flutter open, your pupils stirred, scanning your surroundings abruptly.

Unfamiliar place, unfamiliar faces, the smell is horrific and it’s really noisy and bright around here

Your eyes feel heavy again, you blink several times unsteadily, your mind finding it hard to catch up with your body, are you paralyzed?

Your breath slowly becomes shallow when you start to panic, and you’re pretty sure you’re conscious now but you’re totally disoriented to everything.

“Ma’am, it’s okay you’re safe now, can you tell me your name?”

Your name? It takes you a few moments to piece together what your name was, this was the silliest question yet you are unable to answer.

You can talk, but you can’t remember.

Tears fogged your eyes and right when you’re about to shake your head you realize that you can’t, your neck is stabilized with a brace and something hurts when you try to move. “I don’t remember.”

Someone on the opposite corner of the room who was watching from a far almost passes out when he think he might’ve actually caused permanent damage to you.

Your tears roll down to the corner of your eyes eventually falling to your ears, you hate the fact that you’re unable to wipe your own tears.

You blink repeatedly and your heart drops when you actually see police officers above your head waiting to interrogate you.

You hear the team around you blabbering some medical terms that you find yourself totally ignorant of before you speak again. “What happened?”

“You got hit by a bike, the x ray shows that your leg is fractured and your knee was disloacted, we already put your leg in a cast and you’re likely to be given crutches, but you don’t have to worry at all, everything is going to heal with time and the right treatment, we’ll hand your folder to orthopedics when you’re out of here so you can follow up with them. As for now we need to get an MRI to help us get a clearer look of what’s going on.” He elaborated that it rarely happens when people temporarily experience memory loss but it was just a check up and you wanted to make sure you were fine too, and find out why on earth you can’t remember your own name.

Once the doctors disappear you see a familiar face hovering over your head, long dark hair covering his forehead and eyes that you cannot comprehend the feelings behind, is he someone you know?

“I’m truly sorry, i didn’t see you.” So is he the one that hit you?

“How long have i been unconscious?” You ask, your pupils still scanning his face and your surroundings, he grabs out his phone and takes a glimpse at his screen. “It’s been about four hours.”

A bunch of nurses come by to take you back down to do the scan and you know that the guy with the dark hair is still hovering around because he keeps asking if you’re going to be okay.

Once you’re prepped for the machine with a pair of earplugs the entire team leaves the room and you’re left on your own.

You know the image will take a while so you need to calm yourself down and try and relax, loud rhythmic banging is hear once the machine operates and you shut yours eyes tightly, even when you were never claustrophobic it feels like you are, it’s a little too small for your liking and it feels like you’re suffocating.

Focus on your thoughts, try and think of anything else!

Y/n, that’s right, this was your name. You slowly recall your bedroom and try and imagine what your surroundings were.

What happened and how did you end up here? Your phone, oh no your car, you were driving, something involved sushi of some sort.

Your body relaxes a little and even with the loud thumping that is loud enough to deafen anyone, you’re a little relieved to be finally able to remember something.

The scan took about an hour and it felt a lot longer than it is, you were rolled back on the bed to the emergency room and again you spot the guy with the dark hair.

You’ve seen him once, just dig a little deeper.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little hesitant, his doe eyes monitoring you from head to toe, “the doctors said the scan was perfectly fine.”

“Are you experiencing any pain?” The nurse walks closer with some meds on hand, she injects something into your catheter and moves even closer to take the brace off of your neck. “The scan went well, your neck is okay it’s just that your ribs and ankle are a little bruised, bed rest should help you heal right away.” She flashes a smile before asking. “Any pain?”

“A little, yeah.”

It seems like she injected something to reduce your pain because once you answer her you suddenly feel like you’re floating, your pain feels a little less intense and a little more distant, your breath feels a lot slower and your limbs feel extremely heavy. “I’m fine.”

You haven’t heard yourself talking but it was clear enough that you’re drugged and your thoughts were completely fogged and muddled.

“Ma’am this officer Choi and i’m officer Lee , we’re just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Sure.” You’re finally able to move your neck and turn towards the two officers who you believe were four or probably eight, you’re ready to pass out any second now.

They start asking basic questions, your name and how old you were, and what you did for living, and you outdone yourself when you said that you do your job online from home, not mentioning and giving any further details.

“Did you notice the bike approaching you?” He asks, the officer behind him writing his notes down.

“No, i didn’t see him at all.” You look at the guy with the dark hair, your eyebrows pulling together when you try and brainstorm where you saw this guy. And honestly it feels like a workout!

“Mr. Jeon ran you over with his bike and we’re still interrogating him once we hear from you, do you know him?” The officer asks. “A nearby station towed your car and Mr. Jeon gave them your address.”

Of course he did.

He’s the biker you saw checking out your car earlier this week. As if Jungkook can see how you’re processing your thoughts his eyes widen when you speak. “Yes, he’s totally after me, i saw him outside my building the other day.”

“Am not, officer she’s heavily medicated just ignore that.” Jungkook defends himself. “I’ve seen the car she drives a week ago and after i ran her over i realized that it was the same woman and the same car.”

“Mr. Jeon i’m afraid we have to take you down to the police station for further interrogation.” The second police officer puts his notes in his pockets and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Sir please listen to me, i promise i’m telling the truth, i don’t— I have no idea who she is.”

“Miss do you have anyone you can call? Like family or a friend? Mr. Jeon is the only one around and we need to take him over to the center, we just want to make sure you’ll be doing okay and safe with someone.”

“Do you have my stuff? I can’t see my keys and phone.”

“I have them with me,” Jungkook fishes out your stuff from his pockets and you scoff.

“Of course you do, now he’s stolen my phone and my keys.” You whine. “You broke my leg what else do you want?”

“For the record i was driving on the street like a normal person and you were walking, if you wanted to walk you’d do that at the sidewalk.” He arrogantly speaks while putting down your phone and keys on the stand next to you.

“And for the record, i saw the lights clearly turning red, you should’ve stopped, so not only you ran me over and broke my leg, you also crossed a red light.” You’re drowsy but you still have the power to argue, side eying the officer waiting for him to take note that this “Mr. Jeon” is double as guilty.

“We’ll run over the CCTV and check if what you’re saying is true.” The officer grabs your phone to hand it to you, “Can you call someone to be here with you?”

“Yeah, my friend Natty, she’s the first one on my contact list” you unlock your phone and lazily open the contact list to call her, the officer proceeds to take the phone and talk to your best friend while you lay in bed and struggle to keep your eyes open. Once the officers are a little distracted and their attention is averted away from you, Mr. Jeon takes a step closer with his arms crossed. “Can you please tell them i’m innocent, i’ll do anything you want, i’ll give you money.”

“How exactly are you innocent? I’m here because of you.” Your mouth automatically moves as if it’s the only body part disconnected from your brain,

“How much do you want? I’ll give it to you cash.”

“Hmm, can’t say i’m not intrigued.” You feign thinking before he blurts out. “You’ll take the money and just leave me alone.”

“Will your money fix my leg?”

He pauses for a second trying to think of an answer but you were faster. “Then no.”

“Please, i can’t go to prison, i was never there you can’t be serious.”

“Your friend is on her way here—” the officer walks back and hands you back your phone, an alert look on his face once he realizes that Jungkook was talking to you, a little paranoid thinking he might be offended you. “In the mean time Mr. Jeon we need to have a talk with you.”

-

You’re not sure whether is was a nap or some sort of coma, but your mouth feels dry and you’re a little groggy, you’re entire body feels lethargic and heavy and you’re pretty sure it’s the meds they’ve been pumping inside your veins for this entire night.

You take a glance at your surroundings and you’re still in the hospital this time in a private room, you feel extremely lost since you have no idea what time it is or if it’s day time or night time, once you turn your head to the right you spot a tall man wearing a dark leather jacket and holding a helmet in his right hand and a bouquet of flower in his left hand, his hair covering his eyes and a boxy smile on his smile that widens when you acknowledge his existence finally. “I’m sorry for bothering you- how are you feeling now? Any better?”

You start muttering words that don’t form a sentence before you clear your throat and decide to switch on your brain for once. “I think you’re in the wrong room—“

He flashes you a smile before tilting his head. “Y/n, right? I was told you’re in room 613.” He puts the flowers onto your lap, adjusting them once before picking them back up. “I should probably put those in some water.”

“Do i know you?” You can’t lose your memory again, it didn’t feel very pleasant the last time.

“Actually, i’m here hoping you’d do something awfully generous for me— i know we just met, and you cannot believe how extremely shocking the news were to me, i was really worried over you, but i’m worried more over my friend Jungkook who’s detained in the police station, they think he ran you over intentionally which believe me he wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s an incredible man who was really worried for your well being the whole time you were knocked out— i mean passed out. However i really wish that you.. uhm..”

“Of course he sent you, listen sir, whatever your name is—“

“Taehyung.” He anxiously bites on his nails when he can sense rejection coming up from the way you’re speaking.

“You seem just as reckless as he is,” you glance at his helmet. “So if your entire biking cult begs me to let him out, i won’t.” You sternly speak, before blinking a couple of times. “Aren’t you guys a little too old for riding bikes?”

“Y/n, please, he’s willing to do anything for you right now.” He begs again, putting his helmet onto the chair behind him and putting the flowers back onto your lap. “He promised he’ll pay your entire hospital bill and even take care of you if he needed to.”

You’re a little intrigued, not the bill’s wise, you could easily afford that. But the idea of having him to serve you and do whatever you needed does sound tempting.

“Let me think about it, i’ll call the police station if i change my mind, but for the mean time i want you to leave please.”

“I appreciate it really, thank you so much, you’re so kind and generous—“

“Just leave Taehyung.”

-

“You did not.” Jungkook runs his tongue against his cheek before clenching his jaw. “I will not do that if it costs me my life!”

“Do you wanna get out of here or not?” Taehyung glares at the younger one before taking a look around them. “You don’t belong here, besides it’s just a couple of months and you’ll be over with.”

Jungkook’s face falls into his palms before he sighs. “i can’t believe you suggested that.”

“I can’t believe you broke the woman’s leg and ran her over.” Taehyung shrugs.

“If it weren’t for your message i wouldn’t be here.”

-

“You owe me.” Concealed anger filling your voice and you’re fighting every cell in your body to just not punch him and break both his legs in return.

He shifts in his spot and scratches the back of his head, trying hard to avoid rolling his eyes. “Look i didn’t mean to—“

“Oh i know.” You feign a smile. “Of course you didn’t, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

You turn to look at the crutches sitting in the corner of the room waiting to be used. “So here’s how things are going to go, you’re going to make this up to me for breaking my leg. Every. Single. Day. Groceries, cleaning, fetching my meds, cooking, you’re going to stay up the night on standby in case i need something. And Who knows, maybe you’ll learn how to be a decent human being along the way.”

“Listen woman—“

“What he meant to say.” Taehyung laughs awkwardly taming his best friend, “he’ll do it.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to babysit her?”

“Yes.” You answer instead. “Consider this as your punishment, it’s either this or jail, maybe you’ll have your license taken away for life then.”

A defeated sigh escapes Jungkook’s lips before he shuts his eyes, fully surrendered. “Alright i’ll do it.”

“Good.” You smirk, already plotting his next task, the taste of revenge was intoxicatingly good.

[7brownsuga7]

The God who answers after dark ☆

One - Remember:

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Summary: Time has slipped through your fingers since that last encounter with him—the one where he showed you a side of intimacy you hadn’t known before. His touch lingered long after he left, a haunting reminder of what it felt like to be close to someone in ways you couldn’t fully comprehend. You’ve tried to push it all aside, to erase the memory, but the ache of his absence runs deeper than you expected. Forgetting, you realize, only sharpens the memory, bringing it back with an intensity that leaves you torn between longing and pain. Every attempt to move on is met with flashes of that night, where your body remembered even when your mind resisted. The confusion wraps itself around you, a constant reminder of the vulnerability he exposed in you. You want to let it go, to find peace in his departure, but the harder you try to forget, the more vividly it returns. Remembering, it seems, is a cruel paradox—you cannot forget without confronting everything that you wish you could erase.

Tags&warnings: Jungkookxfemreader, fluff and a bit of smut if you would call it that?!?? Jungkook is obsessed with reader, a bit delusional. Flashbacks, descriptions of penetration. MDNI!!!

Word count: 2k+

Note: took me forever to post this, my bad lol I was procrastinating. Doesn’t have that much smut because idk I’m genuinely tired LOOL? I’m more for fluff nowadays.

Comment to be added to tag list

Tag list: @rutukn

The God who answers after dark ☆ series master list: Here ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You found yourself waiting for the darkness.

Unsure of which one.

The one that lulls you towards a dreamfell night. Where you feel the most comfortable as the stars and moon shine through your window. Where you feel as if it’s just you, the world so still, so silent.

Or the one that races through your mind like water down/through a stream. That reminds you of the night itself. Everywhere you went he was there. You could feel him all around you just like the night you shared together.

He was in the air embracing you

He was the moon constantly changing, revealing different phases of himself with every passing day. He was the odd comfort you felt when you were out amongst the dark sky.

He was the darkness

You missed both.

Falling asleep before the night even came. And too stubborn to call out his name.

A name that you gave him once when you were younger, that he held onto years past that.

The night was as warm as his touch on you that night. The wind gentle like his hold on you. The breeze caressing your skin like how he did, so effortlessly, it felt right.

You’d never admit you was waiting for a particular presence, as much as you loved the night itself , you’ve grown accustomed to something more greater than that.

And even though you could still talk to the wind and the trees like you used to when you were young, it’s not the same as hearing his alluring voice sink into you.

You waited for him to come. Even though you were avoiding him, you hoped he wasn’t avoiding you.

You wonder if he never came because you never called for him. Or maybe because you’re just another human in his little game.

So you laid there reminiscing. Other times trying to forget. And even trying to keep those memories forever, as you wrote them in your diary.

And when day came you missed his presence, even though he still lingered around. The sun kissing your skin like how his soft lips once did.

You were angry because everything reminded you of him. You couldn’t escape him even if you tried.

So you tried to forget about that night. About him. You decided to forget it and only remember what life was like before.

But what was life like before?

He’s been around for most of it.

You aimed to distract yourself with any possible thing.

But how could you when you can still feel his touch lingering on your skin. Like a stubborn burn that stings and leaves a faint scar.

Before how he made you feel. Before you knew what a man’s touch felt like, what his touch felt like. Having him on you, all around you, inside you.

But he’s not a man…

He’s a thing, something so much greater than what you’ve imagined him to be. And that’s what you try to remind yourself, despite you trying to forget him as a whole.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was day again.

You’ve forgotten what night feels like. What it looks like. You miss watching the stars decorate the dark sky. You miss hearing the creatures of the night come out. You miss him… and you miss the quietness the night brought.

The quietness you wish you heard right now as you walk across the busy campus.

Your thoughts run wild, familiar and unfamiliar faces cross your path as you try to reach your destination.

You’re sure you’re loosing it when you feel a familiar presence walk beside you, and feel the familiar chill run down your spine when he says, “Out of all the humans I’ve come across, I always manage to find myself drawn back to you”

You look beside you, once a space of nothing but air now filled with none other than himself.

You’ve been avoiding him as much as you can since the last time you both saw each other. Since you last let him see you in a more vulnerable light.

You didn’t know how to deal with the situation, so you did what you did best and that was avoid.

“You’re not drawn back to me, you simply chose to be here. You can be anywhere in the world and you choose to be on a campus with me” you mutter bitterly.

“Your tone is distasteful y/n. Nothing like how sweet you sounded when you were calling for me”

You pause, stopping in your tracks when you catch the smirk on his face.

“We said we won’t speak about it”

“You said my love. I only make deals, not promises”

Not wanting to feed in to whatever he’s doing, you continue to walk. Not caring if he follows you or not. Still, you ignore the way you feel when you notice him swiftly make his way back beside you.

Time passes.

Just the sound of endless chatter between the people making their daily route, and the faint sound of cars passing by lingers between you two.

It’s nice. It’s not awkward like you had imagined. Tense yes, but when was there ever not tension between you two? It was just right. Like it had been before you both crossed that deadly line. The line you both saw but had never spoke about. The line you had always been curious about, whether you should cross it or not, or let it be just a mere thought you had that you tried to shove to the back of your mind, but would always make itself known whenever you laid in bed thinking of how it must feel to be touched.

“Do you know you’re the only person that’s ever given me a name?”

You peer at him, waiting for him to continue. Your eyes curious as you study the side of his face, wondering why he decided to say that.

His face carved and structured by none other than yourself, yet you always seem so surprised whenever you see him. So in awe at how one’s mind can create such a beautiful thing.

He continues, “I told you before that we don’t get given names, our only identity is the thing we are, the thing we own. For me it’s darkness. I used to love it, it held so much power. It made me feel like I was worth something. Not until you decided to call me-“

“Kook” you say. The name you gave him as a child feeling foreign on your lips. You hadn’t called him that in a long time, deciding to leave that name in the past.

“Kookie” he corrects.

“Hm, well I think you’ve grown out of that now” your tone holds the same bitterness as you continue walking the route to your class.

“I was waiting for you to call on me” his words linger in the air like the aroma of a freshly cooked dinner - warm, inviting, and comforting, making you feel instantly at home .

You’re not sure if you sense a hint of vulnerability hidden within his words. His words seeming more cautious as he continues, “I dont see you staying up anymore. You used to be perched by your bedroom window watching the sky, diary in your hand. Why not now?”

You ignore him choosing not to give him the satisfaction of hearing the truth.

You’ll ever admit that your favourite time of the day is night. That you feel less lonely during that time, less worried and less afraid. You’ll never admit that you look forward to a certain presence that accompanies you during that time.

You’ll never.

Even if he may already know, he’s a god after all.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” His hand catches yours, pulling you to a stop. His eyes are dark, waiting for you to answer him. They mimic the stars. It’s like you’re looking into a galaxy, his eyes holding so many unanswered questions, so many wishes and dreams. You feel yourself falling, falling in everything that is him.

Everything around you turns into night. You feel like you’re stepping on clouds as you get caught up in this little world. Just you and him.

“Why didn’t you call for me?” He asks again and you know it kills him to do that. Pride being one of his main traits.

There’s no escaping this. He’s trapped you.

There was only one other time he’s done this, created a space just for you and him, it’s when you were younger, he took your hand and brought you to this same place, the darkness. It was a way for you to escape your life for a while. He did it without a thought after seeing you cry to him, the hurt in you voice doing something to him that he’s never experienced before. That he’s sure only humans feel.

And now you’re here again, his whole presence surrounding you as his question lingers in the dark.

“Why did you leave?” You retort.

The corner of his mouth twitches, it’s typical of you to brush off his questions.

“That’s who I am. That’s what I do. I come and go. I’m not a constant, I obscure”.

You let his words sit with you, suffocate you, until they seep into your thoughts, twisting your perception, weighing you down with a heaviness you can’t shake.

You don’t blink when you say, “I didn’t call for you because just like you said, You come and go, you obscure. I needed clarity, not shadows” your voice comes out fainter than you had hoped.

You force yourself to look him in the eyes, the deep abyss of what you found yourself always looking forward to see. You didn’t think it was possible for them to darken, but they do, as well as everything around you.

“And yet you still seek those shadows. I know you look for me whenever you see them” his hand delicately brushes against your cheekbone, slowly making its way to caress your jaw. “My dear y/n, you fail to realise sometimes clarity isn’t always what you need. It’s the shadows that show you what’s truly there, hidden beneath the light.”

With his touch still on you, he leans in and whispers, “you seem to have forgotten, let me remind you”

And just like that memories of any intimate moment you both shared flashes around you, flooding your mind, surrounding you in a whirlwind of forgotten warmth. But was it really forgotten?

As the memories flood in, suddenly you're enveloped in the darkness of your room. The air between you crackles with unspoken longing. The world outside ceasing to exist as your eyes meet for a moment.

You blink as another memory hits. You reaching out fingers trailing lightly along the curve of his jaw, feeling the coolness of his skin under your touch. The darkness around you stills as his breath catches while he gently cups your face, his thumb brushes against your cheek with a tenderness that speaks volumes. The space between you two tightens, your breaths mingling as his lips brush yours, forming into a kiss that is soft and reassuring, filled with a promise of deeper want, need.

“Do you remember my love?”

How could you forget? The way your kisses deepened as you pulled him closer to you with your fingers threaded through his hair. The way your pussy would throb just from his mere presence alone. The way his fingers worked on your body, playing you like one of his instruments you know he loves.

He knew your body so well, even when you were still trying to figure it out yourself.

A flashback runs through your mind every few seconds. Filled with images and feelings of what was and what could have been.

His cock slowly fills you, stretching you, every inch making you feel how tightly your body grips him. He's the only one who's ever had you like this, the only one to feel your warmth, to claim every inch of you. You were so wet and ready. Your moans mix with his, rising together in a rhythm, a breathless symphony that fills the space between you. Each thrust draws out another note, a melody of shared pleasure, building in intensity as your bodies move in perfect harmony.

His scent surrounds you, rich and earthy, intoxicating in its rawness. He's everywhere— inside you, around you, filling every inch of your senses. His touch is light, almost ghostly, yet it leaves a trail of heat in its wake, making your skin tingle with anticipation. It's as if even the air between you hums with his presence, leaving you craving more.

You shiver, not from the cold but from the intensity of his gaze as his eyes roamed over you, drinking you in. His fingers brushing along your exposed skin. You remember the way your breath hitched when his mouth followed, hot and wet against your skin, his tongue flicking over your nipple in a way that made your back arch, pushing you closer to him.

His other hand, still on your waist, gripped you tighter, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you.

The feel of his cool, bare skin against yours was intoxicating, sending a wave of chills coursing through your body. Each slow, agonizing stroke made your breath hitch, your pulse quicken. Every touch, every movement, was a reminder of how deeply he held you captive-body, mind, and soul. His hands explored with deliberate slowness, as if he had all the time in the world, drawing out every sensation, every shiver. You could feel the weight of each moment, the way it lingered between you, an unspoken intensity building with each soft caress, until nothing else existed but the raw, electric connection.

Everything comes to a stop and you find your self short of breath, just like you were that night.

Your mind is a whirlwind, unable to distinguish between what's real and what's imagined. Between what you’ve lived and what you ache to relive. He’s left you tangled in confusion, unraveling every certainty you once had. He hasn’t just unsettled you—he’s undone you entirely. He’s confused you, he’s ruined you.

When you escape the chaos of your mind, seeking the comfort of his familiar eyes, you're pulled back to that night you shared—only to be left alone once more.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The God who answers after dark ☆

- mimi ☆

[hellbornsworld]

JUNGKOOK WATTPAD RECOMMENDATIONS(3)₊˚✧ ﾟ.🐈‍⬛˚₊‧꒰ა ‧₊˚

˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀

🫧 Room 1997 | Ghost!Jungkook X OC | Gore | 34 Chapters | Duration-2h 27m | Completed

"Would you dare to go inside?"

🫧 cold world | General!Jungkook X Prisoner!OC | 𝗪𝗔𝗥 𝗔𝗨 ❦ 𝟮𝟬𝟰𝟰 | Dictatorship and Democracy | 40 Chapters | Duration-15h 58 m | Completed

❝The moment I put this ring on your finger, you became my property.❞

🫧 𝐒𝐄𝐗 & 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | CEO!Jungkook X Employee!Reader | Fuckboy JK | Completed | Re-Uploaded in inkitt

"Do me Jungkook, p-please."

"With all the pleasure. I will fuck you, only fuck you with everything I have."

🫧 Two Percent Straight | Gay!Jungkook X Crossdresser!Reader | Side-Jimin X Reader | Crack AU | 75 Chapters | Duration-4h 45m | Completed

"I'm just 2 % straight y/n, but I can love you more than a hundred percent straight man"

🫧 HOLIDAY AFFAIR  | Husband!Jungkook X Wife!OC | PJM Vs JJK | Crack | 24 Chapters | Duration-3h 7m | Completed

"Admit it Jungkook, she'd rather sleep with me." Jimin Vs Jungkook

🫧 His Hostage | Mafia!Jungkook X Reader | Re-uploaded by other author | Duration-16h 57m | 85 Chapters | Ongoing

"fuck yourself... and let me watch"

🫧 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 | greaser!Jungkook x soc!reader | 1950S AU | 20 Chapters | Duration-2h 17m | Completed

❝She's a delicate little flower, hyung,❞ Jungkook grabs his leather jacket and slips it on. ❝And if anyone is going to hear sinful moans pass those innocent lips, it'll be me.❞

🫧 broken ghosts | Ghost!Jungkook X OC | Angst | 32 Chapters | Duration-4h 5m | Completed

"i have died everyday waiting for you."

"i should be the one lying next to you at night."

🫧 𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 | Jungkook X Stipper!OC | College AU | Dark | 131 Chapters | Duration-20h 6m | Completed

What's wrong with being a little chaotic? -J JK

🫧 𝗥𝗲𝗱 | Mafia+Ceo!JK X Reader | 53 Chapters | Duration-8h 18m | Ongoing

"That dress-" he says, eyes raking down your body. "-is 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 fucking distracting."

🫧 A Little Burden | Jungkook X Reader | 36 Chapters | Duration-3h 35m | Completed

I still remember that day clearly.....every night it comes back to me like a nightmare. The small fragile human getting pushed into my arms. Tears streaming down my face as I looked at her....Doctors storming in from everywhere trying everything they could to keep her alive. The look in her eyes she gave me made me break inside.

She knew she wasn't going to make it.

She smiled at me and took one last look at her child before speaking.

🫧 secret admirer | JK X OC | Angst | 101 Chapters | Duration-9m | Completed

" notice me senpai " - jjk

🫧 THE SACRIFICE | Yandere!Jungkook X Reader | Angst Abuse | 46 Chapters | Duration-6h 27m | Completed

A child must be sacrificed in order for the city to gain its happiness. a tale when doom and love are two sides of the same coin.

🫧 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 | clone!Jungkook x reader | Clone Au | 20 Chapters | Duration-2h 11m | Completed

When the doctor tells the Jeon's that their newborn Jungsoo could die due to his premature birth, Mr. Jeon decides to clone him as soon as possible.

To their surprise, Jungsoo is able to grow up happy and healthy along with his clone, Jungkook, who's the total opposite of him.

🫧 petals  | BF!Jungkook X GF!Reader | Childhood Sweethearts | Fluff | 28 Chapters | Duration-39m | Completed

❝ -How much is your daughter? ❞

Jungkook loves food and computer games, but compare to those two you are his favorite thing in this world.

🫧 HELLBORN | LuciferSon!Jungkook X Human!Reader | Crack | 15 Chapters | Duration-2h 21m | Completed

He is the spitting image of an Angel but the blood in his veins is that of the Devil's.

🫧 Once More | Ex!Jungkook X OC | Angst | 33 Chapters | Duration-4h 22m | Completed

❝Your son, he looks very similar to Jungkook...❞

Leave it to a 3-year-old to bring two parents back together.

🫧 ROSES | Jungkook X OC | Angst | 54 Chapters | Duration-3h | Completed

❝ she slipped away the same way the velvet box slipped in my hand ❞ she was oddly peculiar and pure mystery yet, he still finds the refuge of feeling at "home" to the mute girl whom he met at the seaside.

🫧 The Prince & The Servant Girl | BFF+Prince!Jungkook X Servant!Reader | Childhood Au | 64 Chapters | Duration-7h 48m | Completed

A prince and servant girl grew up together in a castle. Best friends for life until that love as friends changed to something more. All was well until the prince was to be married and everything changed. Forever forbidden to be together but can one fateful reunion change everything?

🫧 Angel Beside Him | Jungkook X Reader | Angst | 48 Chapters | Duration-6h 24m | Completed

"Jeon Jungkook, I like you." You said, your eyes wide and cheeks on fire. You finally had the guts to tell your long time crush what you feel about him. Jungkook smiled, giving you a spark of hope and a wash of relief. Or maybe it was a false hope or just him being kind as he says, "I'm sorry but I'm already in a relationship."

🫧 Monstrously Sinful Love | Younger!Jungkook X Older!OC | AgeGap | 71 Chapters | Duration-9h 49m | Completed

"...Kookie" she calls that's when Kookie's small little hands tugged onto his mother's sleeve's pulling her to look at him.

"what's wrong Kookie?"

❝I want to buy her❞

🫧 That Awkward Magic | Werewolf!JK X Witch!Reader | Crack AU | 42 Chapters | Duration-4h 1m | Completed

"You smell very nice."

"Are you...trying to flirt or something?"

A socially awkard witch has to struggle with being the sudden love (?) interest of a wolf shifter

🫧 "IDC, BABY" | Jungkook X Reader | GangRivals | 21 Chapters | Duration-1h 16m | Ongoing

"If they catch us, they will kill us."

"I don't give a fuck right now, baby."

🫧 On.line | Staker!Jungkook X Camgirl!Reader | Dark | 38 Chapters | Duration-5h 36m | Republishing

"I don't call myself a pornstar, but I'm pretty famous on Live Babes (LB). I make money doing what people ask from me and they are mainly men, married man. Some even gave a wife or kids. But I don't care about that at all. The only thing I want is to continue earn their money. Oh! It's already 9PM! Don't forget to watch the show!"

"I can't wait, princess." -J.JK

🫧 Overmorrow | Idol!Jungkook X Reader | Crack | 33 Chapters | Duration-2h 8m | Completed

What would you do if one day you woke up as Jeon Jungkook?

🫧His Gangster Girl | Jungkook X Gangster!Reader | 68 Chapters | Duration-8h 57m | completed

'She is a maze with no escape.'

🫧 Fuck It List | BFF!Jungkook X Reader | 60 Chapters | Duration-5h 30m | Completed

• Go skinny-dipping

• Have a make-out session

• Try foreplay with ice .....

˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀➷˖°࿐ •⁀

MASTERLIST is here for other recommendations

[youthguk]

Terms & Conditions: Part 2 (Final Act)

when the suit comes off, the truth does too.

pairing: CEO’s son!Jungkook x assistant!Reader

summary: You swore you came here to build a career — not fall apart in the hands of the CEO’s son.

warnings: power imbalance, office tension, explicit sexual content (oral sex m. receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, possessiveness), infidelity (both parties), arranged engagement themes, physical violence (fight scene), public scandal, emotional manipulation, toxic power dynamics, angst, some hurt/comfort.

w.c: 10k

Part 1 is required reading. This is a finale part 2.

You don’t even wait until the floor clears for lunch.

There’s no strategy left in you anymore — no calculated timing, no softened voice. You step into the corridor just as the meeting room doors close behind him, your clipboard still clutched in your hand, the adrenaline already humming in your ears like static. And when he sees you, he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t pretend to be surprised. His gaze settles on yours with that same maddening calm — like the night he spent inside you meant nothing, like the woman draped over his arm the next evening wasn’t wearing the exact same shade of lipstick you left smeared across his throat.

Drawing in a single breath, you face him. "You're engaged."

It's not a question - it doesn't need to be. The silence that follows hangs heavy between you, thick enough to suffocate.

He releases a long sigh and, unusually, drops his typical facade of sarcasm and control. Meeting your gaze with unreadable eyes, he stands with hands in his pockets like a defendant who knows the verdict won't matter.

"Yes," he says simply. "I am."

You remain perfectly still, fingers tightening around your clipboard as you deliver your next words with razor-sharp precision. "So what was I, then? Disposable? Or just free?"

Your words strike true - you catch the flicker in his eyes, the subtle clench of his jaw, the shallow breath he takes. Yet he offers no apology, no explanation. Instead, he responds with the detached tone of a business presentation.

“It’s not like that.”

“No?” You step closer. Not much. Just enough to make him hold your gaze harder. “Then explain it. Explain why I was bleeding wine in front of investors while you stood there with your fiancée, saying nothing.”

He exhales through his nose, slow and tight, voice lowered now, like the weight of the conversation is finally dragging his composure down with it.

“It’s a business arrangement,” he says, words deliberate. “Old money. Shared capital. Our families have been connected since we were teenagers. This isn’t about love, or lust, or even choice. It’s about control. It’s about deals with names older than either of us.” A pause. “It’s expected.”

You laugh — short, bitter, too empty to sound like anything real.

“Expected,” you echo, your voice cracking on the word like it’s poison in your mouth. “And I was… what? Unexpected? A glitch in your system? Something to delete once the ink dried?”

His silence and downcast gaze speak volumes.

Your breath catches unsteadily as your heart pounds against your ribs. "You could've said something," you whisper, the words barely audible. "Could've stopped. Didn't have to kiss me, didn't have to stay."

His voice takes on a sharp edge. "And you didn't have to let me."

The accusation hits you like a physical blow, leaving you frozen in place. When you finally find your voice again, it emerges quiet and glacial. "I wasn't the one promising anything."

He meets your gaze, his expression unreadable but his voice carrying notes of both defense and warning. "You had a boyfriend."

The words strike deep - not because they're false, but because they expose the very wound you'd hoped he'd forgotten. He catches every micro-expression that crosses your face: the catch in your breath, the clench of your jaw, the momentary downward flicker of your eyes.

"You think this was one-sided?" he murmurs, drawing closer. "That I seduced you from nowhere? You kissed me back, begged for it, moaned my name while your boyfriend's contact was still in your phone."

You flinch but hold your ground, because beneath all the anger lies an unbearable truth: he's right. And that very fact feeds both your hatred for him and your self-loathing.

✓

You cut him from your life completely. No acknowledgment when he stands at the printer, no response to his comments in campaign threads, no glance during Monday syncs. You give him nothing - not a breath, not a look, not a hint of the woman who once surrendered to his touch.

Though you refuse to meet his gaze, you can feel it following you - heavy and deliberate, as if trying to summon back the version of you who trembled at his voice. Instead, you present him with a carefully crafted facade: high collars, red lipstick, clipboard held like armor. This version of you is untouched by memory, unmarked by the intimacy you once shared.

Two weeks later, she arrives. Nami. Her visit is mentioned casually in a morning brief about corporate guests from London, but the moment the elevator doors open, you understand. She embodies effortless elegance - her cream suit perfectly tailored, her heels precise, her smile polished to perfection. She and Jungkook move together with practiced grace, his arm hovering near hers without quite touching, their matched presence speaking of wealth and careful calculation.

Your stomach twists as you try to ignore them, but when his burning glance finds your desk, something shifts inside you. As Minho from strategic ops approaches with coffee and a smile, you seize the opportunity. Your fingers brush his arm, your laughter flows freely, your gratitude comes with lowered lashes and a voice too sweet to be genuine.

When you finally look across the space, Jungkook stands with Nami but his eyes are fixed on you. He remains motionless except for the tightening vein at his temple and the slight shift of his jaw. In that moment, you discover something colder than satisfaction blooming in your chest - the realization that you could wound him without a single touch, just as he wounded you.

You maintain your performance with Minho, your laughter pitched just loud enough, your proximity carefully calculated. Though you don't look Jungkook's way again, you can feel his unwavering attention. When you finally return to your desk, your smile falls away like a discarded mask. You press your lips together and resume working, knowing that if you must bleed, at least you're making him feel every drop.

✓

It’s late when he finds you again — not by accident, not by fate, but with the kind of deliberate intensity you can feel long before you hear the footsteps approaching from behind. You’re the only one left on the floor, most of the office dark now except for the hallway lamps casting low, golden streaks across the concrete, and the single strip of cold light above your desk where you sit, pretending to finish the expense report you opened twenty minutes ago but haven’t touched since.

You hear him before you see him — the soft thud of his shoes crossing the carpeted floor with just enough pressure to announce him and no one else.

He doesn’t speak your name — not at first — just lingers behind your chair for a moment too long, his presence as heavy as ever, a pull you can feel at your back like heat from an open flame.

When he finally moves, it’s slow — fingers brushing the edge of your desk, not touching you yet, just hovering like memory, like warning, until he steps closer, his voice low, already rough, already wrecked.

“You’re ignoring me.”

Silence is your only response as you click aimlessly through a spreadsheet, your eyes fixed on meaningless numbers while your throat constricts with the weight of everything left unsaid.

“Say something,” he pushes, his voice darker now, not cruel, but desperate in a way you’ve never heard it. “Or do you only speak when you’re on your knees?”

His crude remark ignites something in you. Rising with controlled fury, you send your chair rolling back with a sharp clatter. Your body turns to face him in one fluid motion as you shove his hand off your desk, stepping into his space until you're toe to toe, your carefully maintained composure finally shattering.

"Don't touch me." The words cut through the air between you, crystalline and absolute.

He remains rooted in place, breathing hard with stormy eyes and hands flexing at his sides - a man struggling against the magnetic pull between you, fighting the urge to close those final inches.

"I can't stop wanting you," he confesses through clenched teeth, each word brittle and raw. "You know that, right? You feel it too. Don't lie to me."

"You don't get to want me," you counter, your voice trembling with the effort to maintain your resolve. "Not while you still belong to someone else."

A soft curse escapes him as he reaches for your wrist, seeking something solid to anchor himself to - but you wrench away before his fingers can find purchase, your next words slicing through the tension like a blade across silk.

"Break it off."

He freezes as you fix him with an unwavering stare, your eyes blazing not with tears but with a fury that threatens to blind. "If you want to touch me again, if you want me at all," you continue, each word deliberately cruel and precise, "then end it. End your deal, your arrangement, your legacy contract or whatever the hell you call that woman, and choose me."

His jaw flexes, shoulders rigid, a muscle ticking in his cheek like the last thread holding him together. "It's not that simple," he manages finally - a hollow defense from a man suddenly realizing how little control he truly has.

Your voice drops to a whisper, steady and final. "Then this is over."

You leave him there, your heels clicking against the floor as you walk away without pause or backward glance. Your exhale trembles in your lungs as you disappear down the corridor, leaving him frozen in the harsh fluorescent light. The message is clear: if he wants you now, he'll have to earn you.

✓

You download the app that same night, your thumb hovering over the red-pink icon for a full minute before you tap it — like even that act alone requires courage, like even pretending you’re ready to move on might tear something inside you loose.

You don’t tell yourself it’s a statement. You don’t pretend it’s casual. It’s not about hunger or curiosity or trying to bury the feeling of Jungkook’s body still inside yours. It’s about escape. About choice. About quiet rebellion in the form of swipes and curated smiles and profiles that don’t mention empires or legacies or what their family owns in London.

Dan is the first to reach out, a welcome change from chasing someone else's silence. You like the fact that he doesn’t make you chase, doesn’t smirk behind every word, doesn’t leave you staring at your phone for three hours wondering if you imagined the weight of his silence. Dan is polite, easy to talk to, refreshingly available — a man who replies in full sentences, asks about your work with genuine interest, doesn’t look at you like you’re the puzzle he wants to solve before he breaks it.

You go on your first date with him the following Friday — a corner booth at a rooftop bar, not flashy, not elite, but just nice enough to make you wear a dress that hugs your waist and lipstick that isn’t red. Dan compliments you the second you sit down. He doesn’t stare at your mouth when you speak. He orders a whiskey neat, listens when you talk, smiles when you laugh. When he walks you to the curb and asks if he can see you again, he doesn’t linger too long or press too close. He just touches your elbow, soft and brief, and waits for your answer.

You say yes, though you're unsure if it's attraction or desperation driving you - if you're trying to forget or simply reclaim ownership of your body. That night, lying alone in bed, untouched by choice, you realize it's the first time in weeks you haven't dreamed of chains against your collarbone.

Dan becomes a steady presence. Your meetings increase from weekly to twice that, each time marked by thoughtful gestures - good morning texts before important meetings, unexpected coffee deliveries, genuine interest in your work and opinions. He never mentions your past, and Jungkook remains unspoken between you. Dan represents something fresh - no complicated history, no clandestine encounters, no sin-stained conference rooms. While love hasn't bloomed, you're finally open to its possibility.

The revelation comes naturally one morning, neither planned revenge nor calculated provocation, but something far more potent: simple truth. You're standing by the design team's table, adjusting files while half-listening to Lisa, the new junior manager from strategy, chat about Gangnam restaurants. Her perfectly manicured hand curls around her cold brew as others hover nearby, feigning work while eavesdropping.

When Lisa turns to you, eyes bright with curiosity about your upcoming second date, you feel your throat tighten. Across the floor, Jungkook stands with his back partially turned, close enough to overhear. Something reckless and wounded inside you makes you straighten your spine as you answer with practiced casualness, as if your voice had never caught in his throat.

"Tomorrow actually," you say, matching Lisa's enthusiasm when she comments on Dan's apparent interest. You offer a practiced smile - the kind reserved for men who don't leave marks on your soul. "He's nice. Stable. Makes plans, follows through."

Though you don't look directly at Jungkook, you notice the shift - his fingers gripping the desk edge with barely contained violence, his jaw tightening, shoulders tensing with unspoken words. His silence speaks volumes, and you savor this moment of control, cold and satisfying like salt in someone else's wound.

The smile remains fixed until you reach your desk, where reality spins slightly behind your eyes. You remind yourself of your choice - if he claimed it wasn't simple, you're making it elementary. You're moving forward, even if the progression feels like dying.

✓

It's been a month since you first let Dan in - not into your heart or the part that still twitches at Jungkook's voice, but into your space and body. When it happened, it was slow and considerate, with gentle hands and a mouth that didn't demand. You told yourself it was the right decision, even if it wasn't passionate or dangerous.

Dan had stayed the night, his chest warm against your back as he slept peacefully. You laid awake counting the ways his touch failed to ignite you, wondering when settling for "good" had become your compromise.

Now in the break room with your coworkers, you wear practiced casualness like armor as Mina leans in with a conspiratorial smile. "Are you still seeing that guy? The tall one?"

"Dan?" you ask, lifting your coffee cup.

She nods while Jiyoon from HR chimes in, "He's hot. Quiet, but... the good kind of quiet."

You could deflect, but something defiant stirs within you. "We've been seeing each other for a while now," you say evenly. "We slept together last weekend."

Their heads tilt forward as soft oh's and knowing mm-hmms fill the air. When Mina grins expectantly, you offer a measured laugh and a simple "He's good. Very... attentive."

It's just a casual comment, but the sudden silence behind you - where the automatic doors whisper open and closed - speaks volumes. You don't need to turn to know it's him. His presence pulses like a second heartbeat as you calmly sip your coffee, letting your words linger.

He stands frozen, tension radiating from his rigid frame, before walking away without a word. Though he doesn't speak, his silence echoes through your veins for hours as you approach the end of your workday.

You’re five minutes from slipping into your coat, catching the last train, and crawling into your apartment where Dan texted that he might stop by, and where your body aches more from stress than arousal. Your eyes are dry. Your shoulders sore. You’ve done nothing wrong all day, and yet the tension hasn’t left you since that moment in the break room — the quiet that trailed behind you like perfume, his silence thickening the air every time he passed.

The email lands in your inbox at 7:52 p.m. sharp.

From: Jeon Jungkook

Subject: Campaign Budget Review – URGENT

Need your eyes on the attached. Need edits by tonight. Stay.

The email lands without greeting or explanation - just a demand to stay late and review the campaign budget.

Though you could decline with a curt "will handle first thing tomorrow," you find yourself staying, unable to break free from the pull he still has on you after these past months. The numbers only need minor adjustments, but you meticulously revise each cell, turning the task into an act of quiet defiance.

By nine, the office falls silent save for your typing and the occasional sweep of headlights through the glass. His arrival comes not as a sound but as a presence - a shift in the air like an approaching storm. You maintain your focus on the spreadsheet, refusing to acknowledge how your pulse quickens under his gaze as he approaches your chair.

"You're sleeping with him." His words cut through the quiet.

You turn slowly, deliberately calm as you meet his eyes. "I'm sleeping with someone who isn't engaged," you say coolly. "Something new after you, I like that."

Though he doesn't flinch, his hands curl into fists. "Why?" The words strain like fraying rope. "You're bored. I know you are."

"And yet," you murmur, rising to face him, "I'm still choosing him over you."

He moves with sudden intensity, reaching for your waist with an instinctive need. You shove him away hard, your voice sharp with anger. "Don't you fucking touch me."

Instead of apologizing, he advances again, eyes burning. "You think I'm okay seeing you with someone else?" he hisses through clenched teeth. "You think I'm sleeping well at night, watching you walk around here like none of it meant anything—"

"Good," you cut in, breathless but unflinching. "Now you know how it feels."

His silence speaks volumes as he stares at you, finally understanding that what lies between you has transformed from seduction into consequence. You walk away first, knowing that this time, he has no right to follow.

✓

It’s the kind of evening that doesn’t tolerate mistakes — an annual investor gala held at the Seoul Grand Marquis, a glass-and-marble beast of a venue tucked into the heart of the business district, where every chandelier costs more than your rent and every napkin bears the weight of legacy branding. This night is about power, about vision, about shaking hands across glass tables while making eye contact that means money, and you’ve known since the moment the invitation appeared in your inbox that this would be a war disguised as a party.

Every department has representatives attending — not just for visibility, but for survival. The gala is where acquisitions are hinted at, expansions teased, internal stars subtly ranked by who they’re standing next to and how loudly the room stops to listen when they speak. It’s also the one night each year when employees are permitted to bring a date — a silent status symbol more than a courtesy. It’s the company’s way of saying: show us who’s beside you, so we know who you are outside of your salary.

Dan had offered without hesitation. He’d even asked what color you planned to wear before choosing his tie, showed up to your apartment early that evening with flowers wrapped in white tissue and a nervous smile that looked too genuine to ignore. You’d let him help with your zipper. You’d let him kiss your shoulder as you stepped into your heels. And you’d told yourself, not for the first time, that normal wasn’t boring — that stability could be seductive in its own quiet way.

You arrive just past seven, hand resting light against his arm, your dress a sleek, open-backed slip of black satin that clings at the waist and falls like smoke to the floor, elegant but not attention-hungry, chosen precisely for its control. You wear no necklace, just earrings — thin, delicate, silver — and your lipstick is not red. You’ve been careful with every inch of yourself tonight, each detail designed to say: I am not here to play the game. I am here to win it.

Dan’s hand lingers on your lower back as you’re escorted toward the mezzanine ballroom, his voice soft, full of small compliments, polite jokes, quiet awe at the decor. You listen, you smile, you nod — and yet even as the champagne flute settles between your fingers and the soft strings of a quartet unfurl through the air like silk, there’s only one thing you’re aware of beneath your skin.

The anticipation coils within you like a rising tide. You feel it the way sailors sense an approaching storm - not with fear, but with the quiet certainty of something inevitable approaching.

The air shifts, almost imperceptibly, but with unmistakable weight.

Conversations pause mid-sentence. Laughter drops in pitch. Heads begin to turn in one slow wave, like a tide drawn toward something gravitational. And you know — before you turn your head, before you finish your breath, before you even dare glance — that it’s him.

Jeon Jungkook arrives with all the ease of someone who has never had to ask permission to exist. His suit is black, tailored within a millimeter of precision, cut to showcase the width of his shoulders and the power of his frame in ways that were never accidental. His shirt collar is open. His watch is new. His posture is effortless. And beside him — arm tucked lightly through his, gaze serene, steps measured like choreography — walks her.

Nami.

Her dress is a shade between champagne and cream, expensive in the quiet way only generational wealth understands, cut high at the neck but low at the back, revealing the smooth curve of a spine trained to never flinch. Her hair is swept into a twist that probably cost more than your entire outfit, and diamonds gleam at her ears, her throat, her wrist — no single piece overwhelming, but together they form a statement louder than any introduction.

Together, they look untouchable - a picture of perfection as she leans into him with the quiet confidence of someone who belongs there. Her fingers brush his sleeve with practiced familiarity, each gesture speaking of countless moments shared and countless more to come.

While Dan remains absorbed in conversation beside you, eagerly trying to charm the executive before him, you feel yourself drawn across the ballroom into Jungkook's unflinching gaze. The man who once whispered promises against your skin now stares at you with an intensity that makes the rest of the room fade away.

His eyes find yours deliberately, purposefully.

He looks at you — all of you — and his stare does not flinch. His gaze traces your neckline, lingers at your mouth, dips to the curve of your waist where Dan’s hand rests lightly like a placeholder. And for a long, long moment, he says nothing.

His eyes speak volumes in that moment - a dark intensity that matches your unwavering stare. When you finally break his gaze, it's not from fear or weakness, but because you've seen enough. This carefully crafted facade - the ballroom, the elegance, the man himself - has lost its luster, and you're no longer interested in maintaining the illusion.

He doesn’t come near you, not once, not even when protocol would have allowed it, not even when the polite mingling between departments would have excused a nod, a half-smile, a harmless comment about the wine or the music or the work you're both supposed to be doing — instead, he remains at a distance all evening, and yet you feel him watching you like heat from a closed door, like the memory of being touched in a place no one else can see.

There’s no space between your bodies anymore, not truly — not with how often his eyes find you across the ballroom, always in the quiet between speeches, always in the hush just before applause, in the breath before someone says your name — his gaze never lingering long enough to be obvious, but never glancing away quickly enough to be innocent, always returning, always waiting, as if his vision can reach through fabric and skin and hours of practiced indifference.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back.

You smile at Dan’s quiet jokes and accept the compliments from passing executives with a grace that feels like performance, not for the company, but for him, because everything about tonight has become a silent refusal to be anything less than composed — and if your spine is rigid beneath the satin of your gown, if your glass trembles slightly in your hand when you sip your champagne, no one else seems to notice.

Dan remains effortlessly attentive, not pushy, not overbearing, his presence beside you gentle in the way a safe harbor is, the kind of man who places a hand at the small of your back only when necessary — never to mark, never to command, only to anchor — and it’s during one of those moments, when you’re leaning in to listen to a conversation about the new China expansion strategy, that his fingers slide across your waist and settle low, pressing with the faintest pressure at the curve of your spine, grounding you without even knowing he’s touching a live wire.

You feel it instantly — not Dan’s touch, but the reaction it causes. Across the ballroom, Jungkook’s body shifts — subtly, almost imperceptibly, the kind of movement only someone who knows him too well would recognize — and even while mid-conversation with a group of executives near the bar, you see it, the sharp turn of his head, the flicker of his eyes, the rigid set of his shoulders the moment Dan’s hand settles exactly where Jungkook’s had once rested just before pushing you against his office door.

He doesn’t make a scene — he never does — but you see the way his jaw tightens, the way his hand flexes at his side like it’s fighting the need to close into a fist, the way his attention fractures mid-sentence as though his entire body has just become too tight to contain what he's feeling.

And then he walks away — not excusing himself, not smiling, not even pretending to maintain appearances, simply turning his back on whoever is still speaking and disappearing through the crowd with the kind of cold, singular focus that only ever means one thing when it comes to him: he’s going somewhere he isn’t supposed to be, to do something he’s no longer allowed to want.

Dan leans closer, says something about the main course arriving soon — something warm, something ordinary — and you nod, forcing a smile as if you’re still listening, still present, still in control.

But your body is already moving, your fingers setting down your glass, your eyes flicking toward the hallway behind the reception arch where the corridor leads away from the chandeliers and the silk and the curated spectacle of luxury, into the dim space lined with marble and mirror — a place built for privacy, for reapplication of lipstick and last-minute touch-ups, and, tonight, for whatever this has become between you and the man who just walked into the dark.

Without a word to Dan, you slip away into the shadows - drawn, as always, by a force stronger than reason.

The hallway behind the ballroom is dimly lit, lined with gilt-edged mirrors and low recessed sconces, the carpet thick enough to muffle footsteps, the air faintly perfumed with expensive citrus and something sweeter beneath it — and when you step past the velvet curtain that separates noise from silence, laughter from lust, you already know exactly where he’s gone.

The restroom is a cathedral of indulgence — marble floors, gold-trimmed stalls with private doors that close to the floor, velvet-paneled walls that swallow sound, plush settees for resting, reapplying, restrategizing. It’s the kind of room built for discretion. The kind of room that hears things and never repeats them.

You find him by the mirrors — his jacket off, sleeves rolled, chest rising a little too quickly for someone who claims to be fine. His eyes meet yours in the reflection first, and for a moment, neither of you speak. You stand there, inches apart and centuries away, the silence between you thick enough to drown in.

And then he turns.

“You need to stop,” he says, not as a command but as something closer to a plea, his voice rough, ragged at the edges, like he’s been holding it in all night and it’s finally breaking loose. “You can’t keep looking at me like I didn’t fuck you against a glass table and promise you it meant something.”

You don’t move. His steps are slow but certain as he closes the distance between you, and when he reaches you, his hands hover — not touching, not yet, just suspended at your waist like he’s begging your skin to remember him.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he breathes, softer now, just for you. “Not with you pretending he’s enough. Not with me standing there next to her, tasting you every time I close my fucking mouth.”

Fire burns in your gaze as you meet his eyes, wordless. Without hesitation, you pull him into a kiss.

Not gently. Not sweetly. You kiss him like punishment, like hunger, like you want to taste the lie in his throat and make it yours. His hands crash into your body the second your lips part — one gripping your jaw, the other dragging down to your hip, to your ass, squeezing hard enough to bruise. You pull him in with both fists knotted in his shirt, teeth clashing, breathless and furious and starving.

He breaks the kiss to bite at your neck, dragging his mouth down your throat as you walk him back into the furthest stall, slamming the door behind you with a force that makes the hinges rattle. He’s already unbuckling, already reaching for you, already so hard it’s like his body’s been waiting for this since the moment you left him standing in that empty office.

You sink gracefully to your knees before him, hands sliding up his thighs with deliberate intent. And when you look up at him, lips parted, breath hot, eyes blazing, you don’t need permission. You wrap one hand around his cock — flushed, thick, dripping at the tip — and lick a slow, deliberate stripe up the length, your tongue flat and obscene, your stare never wavering. He groans, low and choked, one hand flying to your hair, the other gripping the stall wall like it’s the only thing keeping him upright.

You start slow — lazy, teasing, letting him feel every inch of your mouth as you take him in, lips sealing tight, jaw relaxed as you begin to move, your hand following where your mouth can’t reach.

“Fuck—” he gasps, eyes falling shut, hips jerking just slightly. “God, your mouth—fuck, I missed this—”

You hum around him — deep and wicked — and he moans so loudly it vibrates through your chest.

He can’t stay still.

He starts moving with you, thrusting gently, then harder, until one hand’s cradling the back of your head, the other buried in your hair, guiding you with slow, rough pressure as your lips slide wet and filthy down his cock again and again, saliva spilling at the corners of your mouth.

You let him take control, wanting him to come undone beneath your touch. And when you suck harder, faster, your throat relaxing, his rhythm stutters — his hips twitch, his breath breaks, and he pulls you off with a sharp, wet pop, panting, dragging you up into his arms, kissing you with his cock still hard between you, his mouth crashing into yours like he needs you to taste yourself on his skin.

The kiss deepens into something raw and primal, tongues and teeth clashing as their hands grasp desperately at each other. He spins you, presses you against the velvet-paneled wall, his hands yanking up your gown, dragging your panties down with such urgency that you nearly fall forward — but he catches you, hoists you up, lifts your thigh, and sinks into you in one deep, punishing thrust that knocks the air from your lungs and sends your moan echoing off the polished gold.

There's nothing gentle about the way he takes you - it's raw and primal, the way it's always been between you. Not when months of silence and pride and punishment collapse into a kiss against velvet and gold, into the way his hand cradles the back of your thigh and pulls your leg higher so he can fuck you deeper, so he can hear exactly how soaked and wrecked you already are for him.

He fucks you with a fierce desperation, like you're both his salvation and destruction - a sacred thing he worships even as he breaks you apart.

Every thrust is rough, brutal, breathtaking — the kind of rhythm that feels almost angry, like he’s trying to rewrite history with each snap of his hips, like he’s punishing you for every night you kissed another man and didn’t come apart like this, for every time you smiled at Dan like your body didn’t still ache for his hands.

He grunts low in your ear, hips snapping up as your back arches, as his fingers dig into your thigh so hard you know it’ll bruise, but you don’t care — not with the way he fills you, the way his cock drags inside you with punishing precision, not with the way your breath hitches every time the base of him slams against you and makes your whole body jolt.

“Fuck—” he groans, voice breaking at the edges as his forehead presses to yours, sweat beading at his temple, “You feel—fuck, you feel better than I remember.”

Your answer is nothing but a moan — low, ragged, your fingernails tearing down his back through his shirt, your teeth clenching around the chain that hangs against your throat now, heavy and swinging with each thrust, catching between your lips as you pant, as you let it cut into your tongue like it’s his name.

He grabs your hips and pulls you down harder onto him, hips pistoning now, his thrusts deeper, meaner, his teeth grazing your neck, your collarbone, biting the slope of your shoulder until you gasp and clench around him so tight he curses again, voice rough in your ear, all breath and gravel and loss.

“You miss this?” he growls, dragging his lips across your jaw, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear as his pace falters, then sharpens again, somehow harder, somehow deeper. “Miss me fucking you like this? Filling you up so deep you forget your fucking name?”

You whimper — not a word, not an answer, just the kind of helpless sound you make when there’s no more room in your head for anything but him. Your hips roll instinctively, chasing friction, clinging to him as the coil inside you twists tighter and tighter, unbearable now, heat flooding low in your stomach.

His pace never falters, his rhythm relentless and demanding. One hand leaves your thigh and slides up to your chest, yanking down the top of your gown just enough to expose the curve of one breast, and his mouth is on you instantly — tongue hot, lips sucking hard as his teeth graze over your nipple, as your head hits the wall behind you and you cry out, desperate now, pleading.

“Please— Jungkook, please—”

He groans against your skin, teeth grazing your chest, voice shaking with the effort to hold back.

“Say you missed it.”

“I— fuck, I— I missed you,” you gasp, your voice breaking as your nails dig deeper into his back, as your thighs start to tremble around his hips. “Missed this— I need— please, don’t stop—”

“I’m not gonna fucking stop,” he snarls, his pace suddenly brutal, unrelenting, his body crushing into yours, one hand tangled in your hair now, the other still fisted in your thigh, his breath hot against your lips as he kisses you again — filthy, wet, tongues colliding, teeth scraping, nothing left of restraint or dignity, just hunger clawing out of both of you like it had been caged for too long.

You come undone with a sob, your entire body trembling as your climax rips through you like fever and lightning, your hands fisting in his shirt and lips parted around his chain. Your thighs lock around him as your nails dig half-moons into his shoulder blades, marking him as yours in this moment of blazing truth.

And when you bite down on that chain — hard, trembling, gasping his name like a prayer — he follows with a broken moan into your mouth, his thrusts growing erratic, then jerking once, twice, deep, as he spills into you, his whole body shaking with it, his mouth crashing into yours like he can’t bear to come without you swallowing it whole.

You stay like that — still joined, still breathless — forehead to forehead, hearts galloping in sync, the air around you heavy with sweat, sin, and something too quiet to name.

Outside, beyond the velvet walls and marble doors, the music drifts on, while inside this sanctuary, you remain locked in an intimate silence with him, neither of you ready to voice the weight of everything left unsaid.

Your breath is still tangled in his mouth, his forehead still resting against yours, the weight of what just happened settling over you like the hem of your gown, rumpled now around your hips, clinging to sweat-slicked skin. Your heart is still galloping in your chest, still racing from the pace of him, the sound of him, the way he said your name like it had always been meant for him to say.

And Jungkook is still inside you.

He doesn’t pull out immediately — just holds you there, both of you trembling, breathing hard, his hands gentler now, soothing, one trailing down your thigh, the other brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face.

And then he smiles - not with triumph or victory, but with the resignation of a man who's accepted losing everything else just to have this moment.

“You’ve got glitter on your nose,” he murmurs, voice thick and wrecked, and when you frown, confused, he leans forward and kisses it. Just once. Softly. Playfully. As if the gala still exists somewhere far away and the only thing real in the world is this ridiculous little smear of sparkle and the woman beneath it who just broke him open all over again.

You laugh — a small, incredulous sound, still breathless, still shaking, and he grins like the sound of it is the only thing that’s ever mattered.

“I hate you,” you whisper through your smile, biting back another laugh as he kisses your jaw, your cheekbone, your collarbone where his chain left a faint indentation in your skin.

“No you don’t,” he breathes, adjusting the strap of your gown with slow, reverent fingers. “If you did, you wouldn’t still taste like yes.”

You hit him lightly on the chest, and he catches your wrist mid-slap and kisses the inside of it, then your palm, then your mouth again — slower this time, almost delicate — before you finally push him back with a grin.

“Get dressed,” you murmur, already reaching for your panties, smoothing your gown down, fingers trembling just slightly. “You look like someone who got exactly what he wanted.”

“I did,” he says simply, tucking himself back into his slacks with only half a care, his eyes never leaving you, even as he buttons his cuffs again. “And I’d look a lot worse if you hadn’t.”

It’s absurd — how easy this feels, how light, how young. How it almost resembles happiness.

You fix your lipstick in the mirror above the sink. He watches you like a man watching a storm recede, like he’s not ready for the calm yet but knows it’s dangerous to ask for more.

And then, as you open the door together, walking into the velvet-lined hallway with your shoulders back and your smiles just barely still in place — you see her.

There she stands - Nami, waiting with crossed arms and perfect posture in her immaculate dress. Her expression remains composed, but her eyes slice through both of you with devastating clarity, as if she's been anticipating this moment while hoping you wouldn't be foolish enough to make it real.

When she speaks, her voice carries a quiet, lethal precision: "Of course it's you."

You and Jungkook freeze in unison, but Nami simply turns away with the elegant dismissiveness of someone brushing dust from silk. The deafening silence lasts only a heartbeat before you both lurch into motion - Jungkook cursing under his breath as he adjusts his jacket, you stumbling after him on trembling legs, your hand reaching desperately for his sleeve as you call out her name. But she continues down the endless hallway, refusing to acknowledge either of you.

✓

You’re still walking side by side, your steps nearly in sync but your heart thrashing beneath your dress like it knows this illusion of calm is already burning at the edges, when the sound of raised voices cuts through the ambient hush of the ballroom and makes you stop cold in your tracks.

At first, you can’t quite place the tone — it’s not yet shouting, but it carries the kind of tension that doesn’t belong among canapés and champagne, and it wraps around your spine with the certainty of something about to go very, very wrong.

Then, through the ambient hush, your name echoes through the hallway, followed immediately by his in a voice that makes your blood run cold.

You turn the corner just in time to see Nami standing beside your shared table — poised, polished, untouched by the unfolding storm — her flute of champagne still untouched in her hand, her expression unreadable in the way only women raised in legacy can manage, as if nothing happening around her is worth acknowledging. She doesn’t look at you. She doesn’t look at Jungkook, either. She looks directly at Dan, with her chin tilted slightly upward, her voice smooth and composed, as if she’s merely answering a question no one had the nerve to ask.

“I thought you should know,” she says, the corners of her mouth lifting just slightly, not enough to be called a smile, but enough to make the accusation feel like a verdict, “she’s been fucking Jungkook.”

And there is no gasp, no cinematic moment of a dropped wine glass — just the collective breath of the room catching and holding, suspended like a violin string pulled tight, waiting for someone to cut it loose.

Dan stands still at first, not blinking, not reacting, just staring at Nami like he’s trying to decipher whether what she said was real or a very cruel joke told far too well. The silence that stretches in the beat that follows feels sharp enough to slice clean through your skin.

Your throat closes around his name as you take a step forward, not fast, not frantic, just instinctive — as if proximity alone could soften what he’s already begun to believe.

“Dan—”

His head snaps toward you. And in that moment, his expression — the confusion, the hope, the disbelief — shatters.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, and the volume of it is enough to silence every conversation within earshot. A few heads turn. More follow. By the time he takes a step back from the table, every gaze in your radius is fixed directly on the three of you.

“I defended you,” he says, voice shaking now, but loud, too loud, and cracking under the weight of humiliation. “I told people you weren’t sleeping your way up. I fucking trusted you.”

Your skin goes cold as shame washes over you, leaving you frozen and mute in its wake. His words hang in the air like smoke after a fire, and though he hasn't said it outright, that one cruel word - slut - vibrates beneath the surface of his tone, threatening to break free. Just as you brace yourself for what comes next, you feel him.

Jungkook — behind you now, still close, but his presence shifts, sharpens, becomes something solid and storm-dark in the space between your shoulder blades. You don’t even need to see him to feel the change in him — how still he goes, how quiet, how charged.

Dan sees him too. And the second their eyes meet across the chaos, Dan’s lip curls into something bitter and ugly and furious.

“Oh, now you want to show your face?” he spits, his voice rising, unhinged now. “She fucks you in secret and I get to be the dumbass holding her coat like a goddamn idiot?”

And maybe that would have been the moment it ended. Maybe if Dan had stopped there, if he hadn’t gone further, if he’d swallowed the rest of what he was about to say and let the shame stay between the three of you — maybe then it could have been salvaged.

But he doesn’t. He looks you up and down, then turns back to Jungkook, and with a voice too loud and too clear, he finishes the sentence like he’s spitting blood.

“Enjoy your office slut while she still lets you have her.”

A heartbeat of silence fills the room before Jungkook launches forward with no warning. He just steps forward with a precision so sudden it looks like instinct, his fist connecting with Dan’s jaw in one clean, devastating arc that sends the entire room spinning around them like they were never meant to witness this moment, but now can’t look away.

Dan crashes into the edge of the table behind him, knocking over wine, cutlery, crystal, dragging a stunned gasp from the nearest guests — but before he can right himself, Jungkook is on him again, grabbing the front of his suit jacket, fury carved into every line of his face as he shoves him back and shouts something you can’t even hear over the surge of movement and voices and chairs scraping the floor as people rush forward to separate them.

Someone grabs Jungkook’s shoulders. Two others pull Dan away, blood at the corner of his lip, eyes wild with disbelief and rage. Security is already on its way. The scene is already ruined. The gala is over before dessert.

And all you can do is stand there in the wreckage — exposed, humiliated, heartsick — with the taste of Jungkook still on your tongue, and the entire room watching like they’ve been waiting for this to happen from the beginning.

It isn’t just the party that ends in silence — it’s something deeper, something more private, something inside you that doesn’t know how to keep breathing once the shouting has faded and the chaos has been contained into the shallow hush of luxury’s aftermath, as if the room itself is trying to pretend nothing ever happened.

The moment Jungkook is dragged back by two men in tailored suits — the kind of men who are hired not to be noticed unless something needs fixing — and the moment Dan stumbles upright, unsteady, his lip bleeding and his tie askew like it’s choking him instead of holding him together, is the same moment your body seems to finally register what it’s done, what you’ve done, as if the weight of your choices only now decides to settle across your skin like a second gown, invisible but suffocating.

The tears don’t arrive in any cinematic fashion; there is no gasp, no trembling lower lip, no dramatic collapse to the floor — only the hot, dry sting behind your eyes that refuses to blink away, the slow withdrawal of blood from your fingers until your hands feel foreign, and the unbearable tightness in your chest that makes it impossible to breathe without thinking first, as if even your lungs are ashamed of you now.

Without running, speaking, or begging, you remain still - exposed beneath their stares. You simply stand there, the way shame always does — still and exposed and far too visible — as the room folds in around you like paper, heavy with whispers and half-averted stares, the air thick with what no one is brave enough to say aloud but everyone is already retelling in their heads.

The ballroom, once glittering with laughter and wine and curated joy, has turned into a stage abandoned mid-performance, every guest now an unwilling actor stuck in place with champagne still bubbling in flutes they no longer remember picking up, as conversations die mid-sentence and eyes flick between Dan, Jungkook, and you, tracing the messy triangle like a scandal lit in gold.

And standing at the center of it all — flawless, upright, radiant even in betrayal — is Nami. She hasn’t moved, not even a little; her posture remains exquisite, the line of her shoulders unbent, her hands still folded gently in front of her like this evening belongs to her still, like nothing has been taken from her because she refuses to acknowledge anything could ever be taken from her at all. Her gown is still perfect. Her lipstick hasn’t smudged. Her expression has not cracked.

She does not speak to you, nor look at you, nor shift so much as a breath in your direction — not because she’s uncertain, not because she’s restraining herself, but because there is nothing left in this room that requires her effort, and that includes you.

Her silence carries a devastating weight beyond mere emptiness - it's the crushing finality of everything that's been lost.

And what makes you crumble — not outwardly, not visibly, not yet — is the realization that she never needed to raise her voice, never needed to fight, never needed to defend herself or even retaliate, because she knew all along that you would lose this on your own, that the moment she said your name aloud, the rest would collapse without her lifting a finger.

Dan, still tasting blood, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes wild with disbelief but now clearing, now hardening, and when they land on you, there is nothing soft left inside them — no confusion, no heartbreak, only the sharp glint of something that once trusted and now despises.

“You two deserve each other,” he mutters, his voice no longer raised, but quiet and dangerous in the way a knife is when it rests against skin, and without looking back, he turns and walks straight through the crowd, parting the onlookers like he’s been released from a cage and no longer cares who sees the wreckage left behind.

No one moves to intervene, and Jungkook remains rooted in place, making no attempt to follow. He remains where security left him — his lip split, his white shirt crumpled at the chest, his knuckles smeared with red like ink — and though he does not speak, the intensity in his gaze burns across the distance like a thread that refuses to be cut. He does not apologize. He does not look ashamed. But his eyes, dark and electric, are no longer filled with want — they’re filled with need.

He isn't asking for forgiveness - he's asking you to choose him despite everything. And you stand frozen, breath caught in your throat, unable to form words or even move beneath the weight of this moment.

Because somewhere beneath the soft echo of heels clicking away and gasps fading into murmurs, you finally feel it — the ruin, the humiliation, the spotlight you can’t step out of — and it presses down on you with a clarity so sharp you could almost laugh.

In the wake of shattered crystal and spilled wine, the gala lies in ruins. Dan stands with blood on his lip, while Nami remains pristine and untouchable in her calculated victory. And you - you are the architect of this destruction, having sacrificed everything not for ambition or vengeance, but for that most dangerous of forces: pure and consuming desire.

✓

The night is colder than it should be, air damp and heavy with the kind of post-rain clarity that makes the concrete shimmer like glass, the luxury sedans and town cars lined up in the marble-bricked circle drive outside the venue suddenly looking less like power and more like armor no one can wear anymore. And there, near the far end of the lot, standing with his back to the building and his fists curled loosely at his sides, is Jungkook — breathing unevenly, chest rising too fast, his once-immaculate shirt wrinkled and half-untucked, the corner of his mouth still smudged with blood that hasn’t yet dried.

His knuckles are scraped. His cuff is torn. His jaw is tight in a way that suggests the only thing holding him together is the silence he’s forced to stand in.

And she is already waiting for him.

Nami stands two paces from his side, her arms folded neatly across her waist, her coat draped like a sheath of silk across her shoulders, as pristine now as when she first walked into the ballroom — her expression unreadable, but her voice, when it comes, clear and sharp and final.

“You’ll lose the London deal,” she says, no anger in it, no bitterness, only the practical coolness of someone who has been trained her entire life to count what things are worth.

And for a moment, he doesn’t respond.

Just stands there with his gaze fixed on the ground like he’s trying to burn a hole through the pavement, shoulders still shaking from the tail end of everything he just threw away.

Then he breathes — one long, low exhale — and lifts his head.

“I already lost something more important,” he answers, his voice cracked and hoarse and quieter than it’s ever been.

Nami remains silent, already understanding the weight of his words without needing them explained. When she walks away, her departure is as final as the evening itself.

It’s not until she disappears around the curve of the entrance that you step forward — slow, careful, like your body hasn’t fully remembered how to move yet, like the sight of him under the parking lot lights has knocked all the breath from your lungs again.

In the heavy silence between you, his eyes find yours - wide and bloodshot, rimmed with a shame that asks for nothing but your presence, a silent plea that you haven't turned away. While his hands tremble at his sides, your heels echo once against the stone before falling still. Without hesitation, you reach for him, your fingers finding the bruise blooming along his jaw as your thumb gently wipes away the smear of red beneath his lip.

His eyes drift closed as he leans into your touch. When you finally break the silence, your voice carries a gentle certainty that barely ripples the quiet air between you. "Let me take you home."

The simple nod he gives in response marks a shift - after months of games and secrets and unspoken wanting, he surrenders to your lead. There's nothing left to fight now, and you're the only anchor he has left to hold onto.

.

this is it for this story! please share your thoughts and feelings, your feedback means the world to me.

[bangtanficsforyou]

Fine Line (JJK)- Early Access

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader.

Au: Enemies to lovers.

Genre: angst, smut, fluff (i plan to write more of them and this is supposed to serve only as the beginning)

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: You hate Jungkook. Jungkook hates you. It's simple. Until it isn't.

Read it here.

[curse-of-art]

JUNGKOOK FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS Pt.2

🔞 All of these fics contain smut, so please take your own risk 🔞

-BEWARE OF THEIR WARNINGS-

୨ৎ─ Jungkook Part 1 ─୨ৎ─ Taehyung ─୨ৎ

❥ Risk Tastes Like Strawberries and Thunder (oneshot, brother's bestfriend au) by @dailynnt

❥ No Mercy (series/ongoing, mafia au, enemies to lovers) by @dailynnt

❥ The Mask of Purity (series/ongoing, idol au, yandere) by @lostinbangtan7

❥ Pearl Series (series/completed, yandere, sugardaddy au) by @lovelyspring7

❥ Mutt (series/ongoing, friends with benefits au) by @letsbangts

❥ The Oh! Chronicles (series/ongoing, brother's bestfriend au) by @shadowkoo

❥ Just This Once (twoshots?/ongoing, friends to lovers au) by @ggukivrse

❥ Taking Over You (series/completed, yandere) by @go1denjeon

❥ Toxic (smau/ongoing) by @girlygguk

❥ Crazy (series/ongoing, coworkers to lovers au) by @girlygguk

❥ Cruel Secrets (oneshot, yandere) by @kookiesncreamri

❥ Mirrors (series/completed, friends with benefits au) by @yoonia

❥ Scattered Stars (oneshot, soulmate au, enemies to lovers au) by @taegularities

❥ Starstruck (twoshots, yandere, actor au) by @trivia-yandere

❥ Off-Limits (series/completed, brother's bestfriend au) @trivia-yandere

❥ Like We Were + Bonus (oneshot, forgotten love) by @armpirate

❥ Devil's Law (oneshot, criminal jk x lawyer oc) by @armpirate

❥ How Many Drinks ? (oneshot, bestfriends with benefits au, friends to lovers au) by @xpeachesncream

❥ Pick & Roll | LA Lakers (oneshot, friends with benefits au, brother's bestfriend au) by @xpeachesncream

❥ Bloodlines Entwined (series/completed, werewolf au, strangers to lovers au, soulmate au) by @spideyjimin

❥ Love in the Dark (oneshot, ceo au, forbidden romance au) by @spideyjimin

❥ Shameless (series/ongoing, bestfriend's boyfriend au) by @redcherrykook

❥ Midnight Snack (oneshot, somnophilia) by @redcherrykook

❥ Bloody Crawling Back to You + Sequel (secret agent au, coworkers au) by @acheronsociety

❥ Perfect Partner + Sequel + Prequel (yandere, dark romance) by @peoniesnro

❥ Cold Nights & Blurred Lines (oneshot, college au, friends with benefits au) by @awrkive

[smartkookiee]

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.6 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: More of a funny chapter, some fluff, Taehyung being the biggest menace on the planet, Some touching (Not sexy touching sorry lol, its worth it), hella tension, dirty thoughts hehehehe, more confused feelings, stress, yoongi mentioned, seokjin continuing to make vics life hard, Jungkook is bad at feelings, drinking, swearing, smoking, y/n continuing to be the biggest avoider of the century, they are getting better just trust me, healthy communicating??? Ji-eun continuing to be my fav ❥word-count: 11.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! a/n: This is like 85% edited right now so sorry if there are mistakes but I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as possible! So enjoy and if you see a mistake no you didn't and Happy Holidays! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

“Come on! Let me take you out. You don’t even have to think about the breakup anymore,” Taehyung called out, trailing after Jungkook as he moved from his bedroom to the kitchen, then back again.

Namjoon had texted Taehyung earlier, saying Jungkook had been sulking around the apartment for days. The breakup was mutual—or so Jungkook claimed—but it was still a gut punch. He and his girlfriend had been together since the start of college, and the shift from something so constant to nothing at all wasn’t easy to navigate. Jungkook hadn’t gone into much detail, just muttering something about them not wanting the same things anymore.

 His silence, though, was worrying his friends.

Jungkook barely acknowledged Taehyung, focused on shoving notes and books into his backpack. “I can’t, Tae. I have to meet my project partner.” he muttered, his voice laced with mild frustration.

Taehyung leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “The one who already doesn’t like you? Sounds like a good enough excuse to put it off.”

“I can’t,” Jungkook said, sharper this time. “She already doesn’t like me, so being late will just make it worse. I’m barely tolerated as it is. We’ve been working on this for weeks, and it’s been nothing but cold shoulders and annoyed muttering.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder, heading for the front door.

Taehyung wasn’t giving up so easily. “So...is this the same partner you were complaining about before?”

“Yes.” Jungkook groaned, not breaking stride.

“Well, maybe I should come along. I’m great with people. Could smooth things over—”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off, opening the door. “Anything connected to me seems to make it worse.”

Taehyung kept pace, still grinning. “But you’re already late. What’s five more minutes? I can be a neutral third party. Mediate, make her laugh, maybe even—”

“No.” Jungkook protested again, but Taehyung followed him. Then kept following him all the way to the library.

Once inside, Jungkook scanned the study area. He spotted you almost immediately at a small table in the corner, papers spread around you like a protective barrier. You were frowning, your hand moving quickly across a page as you scribbled something down, a furrow of frustration etched between your brows.

“Alright, time for you to leave.” Jungkook hissed, spinning around and shoving at Taehyung’s shoulder.

But Taehyung wasn’t going anywhere. He caught sight of you, and his playful expression shifted to one of delight. His mouth fell open, and then a slow, mischievous smile tugged at his lips. “Well, hello, gorgeous.” he muttered under his breath.

Jungkook frowned. “What?”

“You didn’t mention she was hot.” Taehyung said, his grin only widening and a wiggle to his eyebrows. “I can work with this.”

Jungkook groaned, grabbing at Taehyung’s arm to stop him, but Taehyung sidestepped him easily, practically skipping as he made his way over to you. You were deep into some calculations for your math class and you felt like you were going insane when someone sat across from you, you peered up to see a stranger swiftly pulling out another chair at your table.

“Hi.” He said warmly, tilting his head as if he’d just stumbled into a casual coffee chat.

Raising an eyebrow to him, you blinked, your pencil pausing mid-air. “Hi? I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

Taehyung shook his head, “No, I’m Taehyung.” He held a hand out to you to shake. 

You hesitated for a beat, then placed your hand in his for a quick, polite shake. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m actually waiting for someone.” 

“Ah, don’t worry. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Taehyung said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. “I’m here on a mission.”

You let out a heavy sigh, “If it’s to ask for my number or anything like that. I’m not interested.” 

Taehyung waves you off, not that he would mind slipping you his number, “Nothing of the sort… I mean unless you like what you see.” Taehyung leans back posing in his chair, and you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of him. “I’m actually here to get some information.” 

“Okay?” You cross your arms over your chest, an amused grin on your face. Jungkook from a small distance amazed you haven’t bitten Taehyung's head off. 

Taehyung nodded gravely, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’ve come on behalf of my dear, troubled friend, Jungkook.”

Your polite smile faded instantly, replaced by a tight line of irritation. Casting a quick glance past Taehyung. Sure enough, Jungkook was standing a short distance away, half-hidden behind a bookshelf. His expression torn between embarrassment and dread. “I have to apologize Taehyung–”

“You can call me Tae.” He grins with a wink,  and you roll your eyes.

“Okay Tae. I don’t know you well enough to get into all those details.” 

“How about we have dinner and discuss it then?” Taehyung scoots his chair closer to yours leaning his arms on the table. Just at that moment a hand comes down on Taehyung's shoulder, he glances up to see an annoyed Jungkook towering above him.

“That’s enough.” Jungkook wants to avoid your annoyance at him increasing any further by Taehyung's antics. 

“You’re late,” you said pointedly, your tone icy as you picked your pencil back up and focused on your notes. Refusing to look at Jungkook.

“Can you see why?” Jungkook gestured to Taehyung and took another seat at the table. Taehyung rubbing his chin glancing between the two of you with some amusement. 

“Wow, there really is some hostility here… almost electric.” Taehyung leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as his gaze shifted between you and Jungkook. His grin was as sharp as a knife, cutting through the tension with deliberate ease. “For the sake of Jungkook’s sanity—and mine—I have to know. Did he ghost you? Forget a birthday? Sleep with you and never call you again?”

Your eyes widened, disbelief freezing you for a beat before your voice finally squeaked out, “Excuse me?”

“Tae.” Jungkook kicks his leg under the table and Taehyung winces.

“I was just curious!” Taehyung raises both of his arms up in surrender, “Seriously, what did he do?” He pressed, eyes sparkling with mischief as he ignored Jungkook’s obvious irritation.

You shifted in your seat, feeling caged in under their expectant stares, but your posture stayed composed. You refused to let them see you squirm. “I thought I already said I don’t know you well enough for the details?” You replied coolly, hoping to deflect.

“Well,” Taehyung said, clearing his throat as if settling in for a monologue. “I’m Kim Taehyung. I’m a Capricorn. I enjoy wine and find most other alcohol kind of overrated. Jungkook’s one of my closest friends, like, ever. I love dogs, but I have a massive respect for cats. See? We know each other better already.”

His brazen confidence was so unexpected it caught you off guard, drawing a small laugh from your lips despite yourself. “That’s all fine and good,” You said, shaking your head, “but this is personal, Tae.”

“Can I at least put in a good word for him?” Taehyung raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, gesturing toward Jungkook like he was trying to sell a piece of furniture.

You hesitated, glancing at Jungkook than back to Taehyung. “Alright.” 

Jungkook was surprised you were even entertaining his theatrics. Taehyung’s face lit up in triumph, and he shot Jungkook a smug look before leaning in like he was about to share a juicy secret. “Okay, listen. Whatever he did to earn this… frustration from you, I can guarantee it wasn’t on purpose. Either that, or he’s completely oblivious. Probably the second one, honestly.”

You tried not to let his words affect you, but the sincerity in his voice was hard to ignore. He didn’t seem like he was messing with you.

“Here’s the thing,” Taehyung continued, his tone dropping lower as if the next part was especially important. “Jungkook’s one of the best people I know. Seriously. He’s somewhat dumb sometimes, sure, but he’s also loyal and… well, kind of a big softie. I think whatever’s going on here is probably just a huge misunderstanding.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty in his words.

Then, as if he couldn’t resist, Taehyung grinned again and reached over to pinch Jungkook’s cheek. “Plus, he’s a big baby and such a cutie, right?”

Jungkook groaned, swatting Taehyung’s hand away. “Stop.”

“No, seriously,” Taehyung insisted, turning to you with exaggerated curiosity. “He’s cute, right?” 

You froze like a deer in headlights, eyes darting between them. “I mean… he’s alright, I guess.” you said, shrugging in an attempt to play it cool. It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed Jungkook’s looks, they were hard to miss, but you weren't really on the market these days. 

“Okay, but what about me?” Taehyung tilted his head, all innocent. “Am I more than just ‘alright’?”

“Goodbye, Taehyung.” Jungkook stood abruptly, tugging Taehyung up from his seat. “We’re leaving.”

Jungkook got up from his seat trying to pull Taehyung away from his own. Taehyung resists for a moment, snatching your pencil to quickly scribble his number down on a blank piece of paper you had out. 

“Call me.” Taehyung lifts his hand up to hear ear to motion for you to call, as he is getting dragged away by Jungkook. Far out of your sight from your table. You glance down at the number, it was poorly written but you could still make it out. 

You knew you wouldn’t call but Taehyung's genuine honesty and unabashed personality was a breath of fresh air. At least you could really only hope everything he said was real and not him covering for Jungkook. 

After a minute Jungkook returned to the table, annoyance written all over his face. He took his seat again with a heavy sigh. “Sorry… about him.” 

“Oh, it’s okay. I could tell he meant well.” You brush him off and continue to write something in your notebook. “Seems like a good friend.” 

“He is.” Jungkook nods, finally taking the time to pull out his own books and notes. “Just a tad nosy.” 

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow with a small smile, presenting the phone number. “Severely cocky too.” 

Jungkook laughs, shaking his head at the horribly written numbers on the page. “Yeah, you’re welcome to burn that.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Taehyung had always been nosy, maybe even intrusive at times. He really just liked being in people's business and being in the know. This time though, he just happened upon this information and wasn’t really trying to be involved. He really couldn’t help himself in this case. 

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.” Taehyung said, propping his chin in the palm of his hand. His elbow rested on the table as he studied Jungkook with a knowing glint in his eye.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice steady, though a flicker of unease slipped into his tone. He casually raised his drink to his lips, taking a slow sip as if the conversation was of no consequence.

Taehyung grinned wider, his head tilting. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb. I saw you.”

Jungkook frowned faintly, still feigning confusion. “Saw me what?” Jungkook didn’t react—not outwardly, at least. Years of navigating intense courtroom scrutiny made him a master of keeping a cool exterior. But beneath the surface, his pulse quickened.

“You and Y/N. Leaving together after emo night.”

Jungkook blinked once, twice. “Okay?”

“Okay?” Taehyung repeated, drawing the word out mockingly. He leaned forward just enough to make Jungkook feel cornered. “Y/N wouldn’t share a fry with you, let alone a ride home. It doesn’t add up. So I started thinking.” He paused, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table, each tap feeling like a provocation. “At first, I let it go. People share cars sometimes, sure. But then Jimin mentioned you’ve been acting... off. Quiet. Weird.”

“It’s called maturity,” Jungkook quipped dryly. “You should try it sometime.”

Taehyung snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Maturity? You? The guy who stress-ate three bags of gummy worms during trial prep and then tried to convince us it was a ‘tactical’ decision?”

“They were sour gummy worms,” Jungkook shot back defensively. “Completely different vibe.”

“Sure but you’re usually unbearable before a trial.” Taehyung raised a brow. “Pacing around, running through every tiny detail like your life depends on it. Hell, last time you made me and Namjoon sit through your entire case just to ‘practice.’ You even roped Melanie into being the jury. Still can’t believe she ruled against me.”

“She has great judgment,” Jungkook quipped, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure. But here’s the thing: this time? No pacing, no rambling, no pestering me to play the opposing counsel. Just radio silence. It’s weird.”

Jungkook shrugged, his shoulders stiff with tension. “Maybe I’ve gotten better at managing my stress.”

Taehyung snorted. “Yeah, right.” He turned in his seat to face Jungkook fully, his expression sharpening. “When Jimin said something, I started piecing it together. Thinking on the last few weeks. I thought maybe it was family related but, you hadn’t mentioned anything recently. So then I thought, who’s the only person who throws you off your game? Y/N.”

Jungkook’s stomach dropped, but he kept his face neutral. Barely.

“I also thought it might have just been the forced proximity. You two always go nuclear when you spend too much time in the same 500 yards. Except I remembered how weird you two were acting at the wedding, and how you guys disappeared for a while during the rehearsal dinner.” Taehyung continued, his voice dropping just enough to feel like a warning shot. “You think I didn’t notice?” He tilted his head, his gaze cutting. “So, one more time—what’s going on with you and Y/N?”

A silence hung between them in quiet confirmation. Jungkook's face was hot and he was flustered, but also… filled with relief? Like a weight was lifted? Jungkook hadn’t told anyone what had been going on with you two but Taehyung figuring it out made it suddenly so easy. It had all gotten him so wound up and freaked out that he hadn’t realized how much he really wanted to talk. Talk it through, you certainly weren’t going to want to discuss it.

Taehyung’s face morphed into a relaxed and understanding grin, clearly reveling in his own detective work. “Hey, listen. If you’re not ready to talk about it… whatever! I think it’s great. Whatever it is, friendship, relationship, sex. You’re both adults. Have fun.” 

Jungkook let out a breathless laugh, adjusting in his seat. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Definitely not a relationship, I’ll tell you that much.” His lips curled into a shy smile, but his voice carried an edge of uncertainty.

Taehyung nodded knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Well, start by telling me how this all started.”

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, organizing his thoughts. “What’s weird is that, thinking about it now, it feels… insane. We fought at the rehearsal dinner. Like, properly fought. Then we went outside to cool off, and I don’t know—something shifted. We started talking about how we’re terrible at communicating. Like, talking has never worked for us.” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “So, I said maybe we should try something else. Something physical.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. “You suggested that?”

“Yeah. Why is that surprising?”

“Because Y/N would never suggest that, and you’re usually too uptight to even think about it.” Taehyung took a long, deliberate sip of his drink, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you guys…?” He trailed off, leaving the question hanging even though it was painfully obvious.

Jungkook sighed and gave a reluctant nod.

“Oh my god,” Taehyung said, leaning forward with wide eyes and a grin. “I knew you two had chemistry.”

Jungkook frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

“Did too! The first time I met Y/N, it was so obvious. Sure, she was silently plotting your demise, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t heat. You can have tension and attraction, you know.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips despite himself. “You’re delusional.”

“So,” Taehyung pressed, clearly not planning to drop the subject anytime soon, “How does Emo Night fit into this?”

Jungkook leaned back, exhaling slowly. “Honestly… it’s kind of a blur. We were fighting, then we weren’t. Then we were laughing, and the next thing I knew, we were going back to my place.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, giving Jungkook a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Wow. Good for you. It was only a matter of time.”

Jungkook blinked at him, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Taehyung shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, come on. You’re both hot. You’re both single. Nothing wrong with playing around and seeing what happens.”

Jungkook hesitated, his expression shifting. “I don’t think it’ll happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung asked, his tone light but his gaze probing.

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting in his lap. “I don’t know. Every time it’s happened, I’ve felt this… weird sense of guilt afterward. Like I’m doing something I shouldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like I’m not even living in my own skin.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m not the type to just hook up, you know that. I don’t have the time or the mindset for it.”

Taehyung tilted his head, studying him thoughtfully. His voice was softer this time, almost careful. “Do you feel guilty because you think you’re not supposed to? Or is it because it actually feels good, but since it’s with Y/N, you’re telling yourself it shouldn’t be happening?”

The question caught Jungkook off guard. He blinked, his brow furrowing as he thought about it. “I… don’t know.”

Taehyung chewed on his lip for a moment, his expression pensive. “If I’m not overstepping,” he said cautiously, “I think you are enjoying yourself. And sure, I know you only like to sleep with people if you’re considering a relationship—”

“That’s the thing,” Jungkook cut in, his tone sharper than he’d intended. “I’m not looking for anything right now. Let alone with Y/N.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Taehyung held up a hand, his voice calm but insistent. “I’m saying maybe… let the chips fall where they may.”

Jungkook frowned, his confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Taehyung leaned back in his seat, his fingers drumming lightly against the tabletop as he chose his words. “You’ve had so much going on in the last year. Maybe this—whatever it is—is happening at the perfect time. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be forever. But maybe it’s exactly what you need right now.”

Jungkook snorted, shaking his head. “I’m not like you. I can’t just sleep around. Plus, work takes up all my time.”

Taehyung laughed lightly, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Oh, I’m not saying with just anyone or all the time. I’m saying just whenever it comes about naturally… with Y/N.”

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Taehyung said, grinning now. “Funny enough, I think Y/N is perfect for this. She’s not going to get attached to you, and you already know you have chemistry. It’s like the universe handed you the ideal situation on a silver platter.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, shaking his head again. “It’s too complicated with Y/N. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“Why not?” Taehyung pressed, his teasing grin fading into something more thoughtful. His voice softened, but the curiosity behind it remained sharp. “Have you even talked to her about it? Like, actually talked?”

Jungkook let out a dry laugh, the sound short and humorless, as he rubbed his chin. “Sort of. Not really. We talked about the wedding for about five seconds, and then we fought about… well, the last time.”

Taehyung snorted, propping his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Wow, groundbreaking. Gossip of the century. You and Y/N fighting? Stop the presses, I’m shocked.” His voice was thick with sarcasm, and the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth made Jungkook glare.

“You act like conversations come easy for us,” Jungkook shot back, his tone defensive.

Taehyung tilted his head, his expression shifting to something softer—almost amused. “You know,” he began, his voice thoughtful, “I’ve gotten to know Y/N pretty well over the years. She’s not as stubborn as you make her out to be. If anything, she’s way softer than she lets on.”

Jungkook looked at him sharply, his brow furrowing. “Okay?”

“It means,” Taehyung said patiently, “you should at least try.  Y/N is actually pretty reasonable once you sit down and actually talk to her.”

“Talking to her isn’t as simple as you’re making it sound,” Jungkook muttered, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “You talk to people you don’t even like all the time at work. How is this any different?”

“Where do you think I got all that practice?” Jungkook retorted dryly.

Taehyung let out a bark of laughter, his head tilting back briefly before he fixed Jungkook with a pointed look. “Fine. You’re going to Namjoon’s tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.” Jungkook said, crossing his arms like the question was ridiculous.

“Perfect,” Taehyung said, clapping his hands together. “There’s your opportunity. Just try to have a normal conversation with her. Just… be casual. You can do that, can’t you?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you even know me?”

Taehyung ignored the jab, waving a dismissive hand. “I’m serious. You don’t have to solve the world’s problems tomorrow. Just talk. And for the love of all that’s holy, keep your clothes on. Since that seems to be difficult for you two now.”

“Alright I’ll try.” Finishing off his drink, Jungkook stood. “I should go now. I need to get some more work done tonight.” Jungkook started to leave when Taehyung called after him.

“Hey!” Taehyung called after him as Jungkook made his way to the door. “Just think about it, alright? You might even realize I’m right. It happens more often than you’d think!”

Jungkook just waved to him as he left. He was going to make his way up to his car but he paused. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Taking one and lighting it. He hadn’t been smoking as often lately, but he felt he deserved one after the success of the week. Jungkook took a long drag letting the smoke fill his lungs before blowing it out through his nose. A small buzz washed through him, cigarettes didn’t really have the same hit these days but couldn't quite kick the habit. 

He knew the smell would stick to him, would linger and cling to these clothes. He started to walk up the street to his car. Just finishing off the cigarette slowly and making sure he was more than safe to drive. Thinking about what Taehyung told him, he hadn’t thought he had been so stressed. Hooking up with you continuously was just a recipe for disaster, it had to be. He was just asking for something to go wrong and you two were always on thin ice as it was. Not that Jungkook would ever bring up any of Taehyungs advice to you… again.

Last time was the last time, a very specific set of circumstances had to come together for the last two times to even work out. 

All though Jungkook had become the furthest thing from your mind this evening. You were entering the hospital at the ungodly hour of 10:30pm because you decided yeah I can totally switch shifts this weekend! I haven’t done a night shift in a while so this will be fine! You are majorly regretting it now. You had slept most of the day but you were still somehow exhausted. 

“Good morning beautiful.” Vic greeted you as you trudged your way to sit next to her at the nurses station. You shot her a glare sitting down in your chair pulling out one of the tablets. 

“I hate the night shift. Why did I agree to this?” You groan, typing your password multiple times and failing. 

“Because you are lovely and wonderful and Maya really needed the switch.” Vic stood up and behind you and rubbed your shoulders. “You can do this, it’s pretty simple at night anyways.” 

“Ugh please don’t jinx me. You’ll say that and suddenly everything’s gonna go wrong.” You lay your head back looking up at her with a small pout. 

“You’ll be just fine, plus Yoongi is here all night with you. He’s fun to torture during the night shift.” Vic patted you before she grabbed her bag and rounded her way to the elevators.

“Have a good night.” You call out to her but then dive your head into your work. Since it was so easy going you knew this would be a good opportunity to finish up paperwork. There was always plenty to catch up on, you could maybe even get a medication inventory count done tonight as long as everything goes smoothly. 

You spend the next little while just working. Yoongi came and joined you after a while and you both just made small conversation here and there. The two of you had actually gotten closer in the time you’ve been up here. He’s actually super nice and much funnier than anyone gives him credit for. The quiet exterior thing was mostly a professional front but when he’s around you and Vic he loosens way up. 

Once one of the other night nurses, Kay, had arrived you stole him away to help you with meds. 

“Okay would you rather broadcast your thoughts to everyone around you at all times or never be able to think in words again?” You ask as you write down some notes about things that need to be ordered. 

Yoongi thought for a moment as he is opening up a box to inspect the contents, “Can I think in pictures?” 

“Hmm I’ll say yes but you can’t imagine pictures of words.” You tap your pen against your mouth. 

“I’ll never think in words again. I don’t need everyone knowing my thoughts.” Yoongi says and you nod. “What about you?” 

“You know what, I agree. I don’t need everyone knowing how often I think about quitting.” You snort under your breath. Yoongi smiles amused. 

“We all know, you don’t need your thoughts broadcasted for that.” Yoongi teased and you push his shoulder. 

“I’m quitting right now.” 

“Right.” 

You sigh looking around. “Well we’ve barley made a dent. I’m going to going do a loop and check in, will you see if Kay needs anything?” You hand him the notepad you had been making notes on. 

“No problem, and we can totally finish this tonight. Plus we have like 10 more hours.” Yoongi points around the room. It’s true you guys just needed to stay focussed. 

“Nah you have better things to worry about tonight. I’ll just force Wendy to help me when she gets in.” You wave your hand back and forth, leaving the closet. 

You make your way up and down the wing. Most patients were asleep and you would slip in just to make sure there was nothing you guys were missing or not being alerted about. You had pretty good systems and alarms to make sure that didn’t happen but you always liked to check just to make sure. Everyone seemed in good shape for the night, you decided to ends your rounds with checking in on Ji-eun. You poked your head into the room to find she was in fact awake. She was looking at something on her Ipad. The light dimmed. 

“What are you—” You step into the room, Ji-eun's attention pulled to you. At that moment your attention is immediately pulled to the couch that came into view. Someone was asleep there with blanket pulled over them and they were facing away. You drop your voice to a whisper. “Oh my god I’m so sorry. I didn’t know someone was here with you.” 

You try to backing out of the room, but Ji-eun waves for you to come back. Her voice also a whisper, “No no no come back in. I’m happy to see you, you’re never here this late.” 

A sigh of exhaustion leaves you, “Yeah one of the girls needed to switch shifts due to an emergency. So here I am.” 

“That’s nice of you. I can’t imagine overnight shifts are at all easy.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, setting her iPad to the side. 

“It’s alright. Dr. Min and Kay are good company.” Your attention is pulled back to the figure on the couch that shifts slightly. Maybe it was Ji-eun’s husband? You hadn’t had a chance to meet any of her family yet. They were never here when you usually worked. “Is that your husband?” 

Ji-eun looks over and then back to you with a shake of her head. “Oh no, this is one of my boys.” 

“Oh! How sweet he’s here with you.” You glance over and then back to her. 

“Yeah he must have arrived just barely before you. He’s had a long week and hadn’t been able to stop by. Then he fell asleep.” 

“Is this his first time coming to see you? Since you got here?” You found your curiosity peaked.

“Oh no no. He was with me the day I checked in and then he’s been here several times since. Always late like this.” She glances over then back to you. “I hope it’s okay he’s here.” 

Technically you really shouldn’t let family stay over night but it wasn’t a rule. More frowned upon due to some incidents in the past. “Usually we try not to allow it, but I’ll let it go for now.” You give her mischievous grin, and she laughs to herself. 

Ji-eun had an operation schedule for two weeks from now for the tumor in her leg to be removed. She was in high spirits about it. Removing that tumor would officially bring her back down to stage 3. The hope was that they could remove the whole thing.

Dr. Kim took a new biopsy earlier in the week and you learned this tumor was completely unrelated to the liver cancer, which was the original belief. Since the tumor had gotten down almost to the bone she would be off her feet for some time. She also will have to stop chemotherapy for a while until she heals from this operation. So mostly good things but concerning in terms of her cancer and how aggressive her case has been.

The current treatment hasn’t shown any signs of improvements to the tumors on her liver. It was still early so it was inconclusive. You could tell from the way Dr. Kim and Yoongi had been speaking about it that they were hoping for more improvement. Ji-eun hadn’t lost her spirit though. She was still so cheerful everyday you saw her and always had a story or smile to give. She’s made the weeks up here easier. In the time you’ve spent up here you have seen a few patients pass. Two just this week. You didn’t know them well but it was still tough. Especially because they were cases that had much better odds than most. Needless to say it weighed on you, so talking to Ji-eun made it easier. 

Vic and Yoongi had also done a good job at showing you how they handle it. In other specialties you don’t spend as much with the patients, little easier to become impersonal. Up here you have people who are here for weeks or months so you learn about them. Which makes it worse if they don’t pull through. 

“Why are you up so late?” You sit on the end of her bed, “You just had treatment on Tuesday, you need rest.”

“Just a touch of nausea it’ll pass.” She pats her stomach.

“Are you finally admitting to feeling it a little?” You say, talking about the chemo. Ji-eun had been doing well on this one and not shown any major symptoms yet. At least, that is what she was telling everyone. 

“A little.” She huffed, “Nothing serious. It’ll pass soon.” 

“I can get you something if you need. You don’t have to just tough it out, even though I know you try too.” You lean on one of your hands, your face falling into slight concern. 

“I'm tougher than you think. No chemo can get me down. Now you go. I’m sure you have plenty of work that needs to be done.” She tried to wave you out of the room, but you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve got a minute.” You glance over to her ever updating pile of crochet projects. “What are you working on right now?” 

Ji-eun glances to her pile. “I know it’s a big cliché, but I’m working on a few things for you and Victoria, and the docs.” She pull over some of her stuff, “It’s just scarves.” 

She pulls out one that looks to already be complete that is green and blue and red stripes. Another that is all red. 

“The stripped one is for Dr. Kim. The red is for Victoria. Felt fitting since she is so fiery, and Dr. Kim is so flamboyant.” She held them out to you, they were very well done. She picked a very oft thread for them as well so they were nice to touch.

“Oh these are lovely.” You fold them and lay them back down on the bed. “Dr. Kim will love his, I assure you.” 

“And this,” She reaches down on the side of the bed, “will be yours eventually.” She pull out a dark blue scarf that had stars being stitched throughout. It was still a work in progress, maybe about half way done? It was truly lovely so far. “I think it looks pretty good!” 

You give her a happy pout looking at it, “I love it. It’s so cute. I can’t wait to wear it.” 

“Well I better hurry up and get it done!” Her voice was a little louder than she intended, and whichever of Ji-eun's sons was on the couch stirred. “Whoops too loud. Can I get your opinion for Yoongi? I want to make him one but I’m not sure.” 

You thought for a moment if you should tell her to give him something outrageously bright just to see him feel forced to wear it. You decided against it though. “Probably something neutral. He’s not the flashy type. Maybe a black or grey.” 

“Awe I was hoping maybe he had a colorful streak hidden under that quiet exterior.” Her face twisted in annoyance, “Neutral it is.” 

You get yourself off the bed. It was time that you got back and continued your work. It was a nice little break but there was a lot left to be done tonight. 

“I must leave you now. If you need anything you know where we are.” You take a step towards the door. 

“I’ll try.” Ji-eun huffs with fake annoyance in her tone like you were a mom scolding her. 

You roll your eyes knowing she’s just going to continue to be tough about it. You turn to the door before something catches your attention before stepping out. It was subtle and you hadn’t noticed it before but you definitely smelt it now. 

Just a faint smell of cigarette. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

After a long and grueling night. Your shift was coming to an end. You and Yoongi, with the help of Wendy another night nurse, you managed to get a good jump on inventory. The rest of the night you mostly just did paperwork and bothered Yoongi when you could. No major issues except you were not really built for a night shift. About an hour ago you took advantage and stowed yourself away to get a tiny bit of rest in an on call room. With your slumber abruptly interrupted. 

“Rise and shine baby girl!” Vic hit her leg on the side of the bunk you were sleeping in. Rattling it and you awake.

With an angry grunt you rolled over to look at her. “You’re so obnoxious.” 

“I’m here to relieve you. Get up.” She holds a hand out to you to help you get to your feet. “How was last night?”

“Not bad.” You yawn and stretch your arms straight into the air. You fill her in on some other details and you both leave the on call room and walk back to the nurses station. Giving her some updates on what you and Kay did in the night. 

You collected some of your stuff from the desk when you overheard some of the other girls you worked with talking. 

“Okay but like you saw him.” Lana, a new hire here, leaning on both of her hands swiveling from side to side in her chair. Dramatically star struck. 

“You were right, hot.” Angel, another girl who usually works opposite shifts of you. So you haven’t gotten to know her much. 

“Ladies,” Vic interrupted arms folded, “I think we have better things we could be doing?” 

“Yeah but Lana’s crush was here. So she’s all distracted now.” Angel rolled her eyes, nudging Lana to come out of her dream state. You laugh under your breath. 

“Who’s her crush?” You breath, balancing your stuff in your arms. Looking between the two of them.

Lana groaned, “I don’t actually know his name. I’m just pretty sure he’s Ji-euns son. You had to have seen him Y/N, you’re on her case.” She looked to you, her pupils practically turning into little hearts.

“I actually haven’t met any of Ji-eun’s family. I’ll see what I can find out.” You yawn thinking back on it. Sad Ji-eun’s been excited to introduce you to her family and you just barely missed him. Maybe next time. 

“Get his name as soon as possible please. So Lana can bug you about it instead of me.” Angel got up from the desk, walking away as quickly as she could. You and Vic watch her go in her annoyance and you both have amused smiles. 

“I’m sure you could just ask. Ji-eun uses any opportunity to talk about her family.” You pat Lana on the shoulder, “Hope he’s everything you hope he is.” 

“Me too.” Lana gets up as well taking a tablet with her in a day dreamy walk. 

“Don’t encourage her. She’s new so she doesn’t need to get her hopes high. ”Vic nudged you. She was mostly teasing. 

“Hey, we need some new entertainment around here other than Yoongi. I’m just sad her crush isn’t on him so we don’t get to tease him about it.” You laugh, just then Seokjin and Yoongi were rounding the corner. 

“Good morning my wonderful staff.” Seokjin beamed between you and Vic. Vic narrowing her eyes at Seokjin already. Oh he’s in for a long day. 

“You didn’t sign your charts last night.” She taps her finger impatiently. Yoongi trying to hide. “Yoongi this goes for you two, and you have no excuse you were here all night.” 

You place a hand on her, “To be fair he really helped us out with the medicine and inventory count.” 

She huffs, “Okay fine you’re off the hook. You sir,” pointing back to Seokjin. “You’re gonna sit and do it before you do anything else today.” 

“What’s with the hostility? To think I bought treats for you today and this is the thanks I get?” Seokjin sniffs and fake wipes his eyes. 

“I’ll be less hostile when you sign your charts.” She barks.

You decide you need to slip out now before the blood bath begins. You made your way home in record time. You were desperate to sleep in your own bed because you were finally going to see Melanie tonight. You were so excited that her and Namjoon were back, and tonight would be all in good fun. Or at least you hoped it would. 

Jungkook's annoying presence would certainly be something to handle… considering. 

You couldn’t even think straight as you crashed on your bed. You didn’t even bother to change, just letting the weight of the night overtake you. It felt like a blink of an eye though as it was suddenly 6 pm. You needed to get up and get ready for sure now. You had roughly about an hour before you needed to be getting out the door. So you shower the night off and dress casually, you had a feeling you may be crashing there tonight so you didn’t need to look amazing. 

You certainly didn’t feel too amazing, exhausted really. 

After too long you were arriving and knocking on the front door. Namjoon and Melanie had a very nice townhome, it wasn’t decorated in a typical fashion. It was always very warm and welcoming and homey. You tended to hang out here a lot because of how good of a job they did at making it so nice. Unfortunately that did involve many night where you, Ash, and Melanie overtake the house and Namjoon is left sleeping in the guest room or downstairs. He really didn’t mind but you always felt a little bad. 

With a swift swing open of the door Melanie was who you came face to face with. “Finally! My knight in shining armor has arrived!” Melanie swooned against the door frame. 

“My darling I’ve return from war!” You step inside and are immediately enveloped into a hug. It was so nice to finally have her back. You didn’t want to bug her with anything while her and Namjoon were away but now it was free game. “I need to hear every detail about your trip.” 

“Oh trust me I’ve got a whole presentation prepared.” She keeps an arm around you as you enter the house. 

The entryway was a long hallway with tall ceilings, stairs lined one wall, with entrance to the living room first and then just up the hall entrance to the kitchen. A small bathroom tucked under the stairs. 

“Oh I can’t wait.” You giggle and rub your hands together, “I need something to eat though I’m starving.” 

“Oh there’s plenty of food so help yourself. We’ve got all night.” She pulled you into the living room where you were greeted with Ash and Namjoon in a heated debate about what looked like a just finished match of Mario kart. Taehyung was sprawled out on the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. Melanie sat down on the opposite love seat leaving you standing, 

You squat down to Taehyung's eye level, “What was it this time? Eleventh or twelve?” 

He fakes sobs, “If there was a thirteenth place they would make it for me.” You snort and ruffle his hair. 

“You’ll get him next time.” You sit down on the love seat with Melanie laying your legs across her lap. 

“You don’t want to sit with me?” Taehyung sat up on the couch with a puppy dog look in his eye. 

“I need some Melanie time tonight. I’ll give you my attention another time.” You say but Taehyung still played sad. 

“Mel! Back me up! He so cheated!” Ash erupted between the three of you, pointing to Namjoon accusingly. 

“I did not!” Namjoon quipped back, “She’s the one who was trying to shove me the entire time!”

“I’m not getting in the middle of you two and your stupid Mario kart rivalry again! I made that mistake once and I almost got my head bitten off for it.” Melanie grumbled in annoyance at the two of them. They both deflated but still were annoyed. 

“You know how competitive they get, why let them play?” You ask, raising an eyebrow to Taehyung and Melanie. 

“I left the room for five seconds and suddenly they were deep into it by then.” Melanie raised her hands in innocence. You believed it, Ash and Namjoon had a years long running tally of Mario kart wins. They always stayed neck and neck and it was very serious for them. You were okay at it, always coming out somewhere in the middle. 

“Well I need a drink if this is how the night is going to continue.” You get back up from your seat. 

“There’s tons of wine please drink it.” Namjoon called after you, you gave a thumbs up behind you in response. Heading down to the kitchen. 

Rounding your way into the in there really was tons of snacks and food at the ready on the island counter. You imagine Melanie had meant to bring it into the living room but got sucked into the game with the others. 

You pick a random bottle, opening it and pouring yourself a glass. It was pretty good for a random pick. You balance your glass, the bottle, and a armful of snacks bringing them with you to the living room to lay them out on the coffee table. 

“Oh thank you.” Melanie beamed, taking a bag of chips from you. 

“I figured they got left behind in the gaming escapades. This wine is also nice.” You take another sip from your glass, setting the bottle down. 

Melanie takes the bottle holding it up to Namjoon, he also looks at it, “Joonie, where did we get this one?” 

“Jungkook got it as a gift.” Namjoon nodded when seeing the bottle. 

Taehyung dramatically held onto the nearest object. You gave him a funny look.

“Sorry Jungkook's name was mentioned in your presence. Thought I should prepare for a disaster.” He teased, you hit him on the shoulder.

“I’m not that dramatic.” You settle down on the couch next to him. “Here I’ll give him a compliment right now. He can pick out a nice wine. Let’s hope it’s not poison.” 

“Wow,” Taehyung deadpanned, clutching his chest. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Anyways, what’s going on with you these days.” You look at Taehyung. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding.” 

“I tried to catch up with you at emo night but seems you got stolen away.” Taehyung says and it makes you take a slight moment of pause. Taehyung said it that way on purpose. Knowing what he knows, “You know cause you went home early.” 

You nod, playing it cool. “Yeah I had too much. It was good I called it early because it could have gotten messy.” 

“Probably smart, a little too much to drink can make us do some questionable things.” Taehyung says it almost with some suggestion, like trying to point to a certain subject. It didn’t slip by you, it felt too intentional. 

“Yeah, I guess?” You play it off, “Anyways, any new girl I can hear about as of late? Any crazy stories you got for me?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, “I’ve taken a little break lately. Trying to be serious.” 

“Really? You?” You cock an eyebrow. 

“Nah,” He smirks, “What about you? Anyone wrapped around your finger at the moment?” 

You narrow your eyes at him, Taehyung had a way of trying to subtly gets answers. Him asking about your love life never comes without a catch. Last time it was a blind date he wanted to set you up on. “No. I’m not really looking right now.” 

He slowly nods his head, his stare a bit too intense for comfort. “Very interesting.” 

“Okay what are you planning? If you're planning on giving my number out to someone can I at least know who and why?” You groan, leaning your head on the back of the couch looking up to the ceiling. 

“No I wouldn't do that to you… again. I’m just confirming a solution to a problem I’m working on.” 

You wanted to probe further into what Taehyung was talking about, but decided to just leave it. Whatever he had cooking up in his mind could not be good. Better to not indulge him. 

The night buzzed with the hum of wine-fueled laughter, the clink of glasses, and a playlist that had long since fallen victim to the chaos of too many requests. You were tipsy, just enough to feel bold and carefree, your giggles blending seamlessly with the chatter around you.

Ash, Melanie, and you had claimed the big couch as your domain, limbs tangled in a haphazard heap. Your head rested in Ash’s lap, where she was absently braiding and unbraiding sections of your hair, likely creating a disaster you'd deal with tomorrow. Namjoon and Taehyung had been exiled to the love seat and the floor, making them easy targets for your drunken commentary.

This was how these nights always went—wine, games, and an inevitable retreat to Namjoon and Melanie’s room, where the three of you would indulge in a late-night slumber party like teenagers.

Just then a ring from the doorbell sounded through the house. Announcing the arrival of the demon spawn. Namjoon sprung up from his spot and trotted to the door. You could hear a few voices echo in the hall before Namjoon and Jungkook reentered the room with some laughs. 

“Golden boy finally arrived.” Taehyung held his arms up in celebration. The wine in his glass almost flinging everywhere. 

You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure they’d get stuck. Melanie wiggled her way out from under your legs to give Jungkook a hug, which he returned with genuine warmth. You looked away, muttering under your breath, “Great, now we’re all blessed by his presence.”

Melanie beamed, entirely ignoring your sarcasm. “Okay, now that everyone’s here, we can finally show pictures from the trip!” She dashed out of the room and returned moments later with her laptop, bounding around everyone and hooking it up to the TV.

“Oh you actually had a presentation prepared?” You laugh at her and Melanie rolls her eyes. 

“Yes,” Melanie retorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You’ll like it. Now, everyone, sit.” 

Melanie urges Namjoon and Jungkook to sit back down. Namjoon took the available spot next to Taehyung, which left the spot your legs currently occupied the only place left. 

The command turned the room into a musical chairs scramble. Namjoon reclaimed his spot by Taehyung, leaving the couch seat you were sprawled across as the only one open.

Jungkook eyed the seat with a smirk and crossed his arms. “Guess you’ll have to move.”

Without budging an inch, you waved dismissively at the floor. “There’s plenty of space down there.” 

Jungkook, tilted his head, tongue in cheek. He should have expected the immediate annoyance he would get from you being here. Taehyung watched from the other couch with bated breath, sipping on his wine. 

“Oh this looks like such a comfortable spot though.” Without warning Jungkook places his butt right on top of your legs. Sighing joyfully, it was not comfortable but the face you were making was worth it. 

Ash immediately burst out laughing, her hands still tangled in your hair. “I mean, he’s not wrong. You’re pretty cozy.”

“Get off.” You groan, tugging your legs out from under him and sitting up straight.

Jungkook stretched out leisurely, claiming the newly vacated spot with a satisfied smirk. "Ah, much better."

You narrowed your eyes at him, resisting the urge to shove him off the couch entirely. Taehyung, still observing from his perch with an amused glint in his eye, raised his glass in toast. "And just like that, our main event is underway."

"You're enjoying this way too much," you snapped at Taehyung, who simply shrugged and sipped his wine.

Melanie clapped her hands, reclaiming everyone's attention. "Alright, children, settle down. You're distracting from my masterpiece here." She gestured to the TV, where the first picture from their trip was already displayed: a stunning view of a mountain range bathed in golden light.

The room collectively oohed and aahed, and Melanie launched into a detailed explanation of the hike they had to endure to get the shot. Namjoon chimed in with a few quips about Melanie nearly slipping on a rock, which earned him a playful swat on the arm.

Ash, kept you grounded in your spot so you didn’t push Jungkook away. He didn’t try to antagonize you again. He stayed settled to his spot and his attention on Melanie. Staying engaged with everyone except you. You got another drink into you during the presentation and so did Ash. both of your giggling every now and then on your side of the couch. Entertaining yourselves thoroughly. 

Jungkook just stayed as far on his side as he could. Didn’t mean something else was happening. Because Taehyung was texting him. 

Tae: So are you going to talk to y/n tonight??????

Tae: I think you should ;)

Tae: Remember just keep it casual!!!

Tae: Could lead to… well you know… again ;)

Tae: I’ll even break the ice

Tae: ;)

Tae: Should be an interesting evening

Jungkook would look every once in a while and not dignify Taehyung with a response. Jungkook could feel Taehyung’s eyes also boring into the side of his head in anticipation. He was looking for that spark, maybe there was something much more going on here. 

After a little while, the wine was really getting to you. As well as your messed up sleep schedule making you fuzzy. Warm. You were watching Melanie talking about some trail her and Namjoon followed and got lost along as your attention was caught to Jungkook moving his hand to run through his hair. Settling it back down into his lap. It caught your attention for a moment and it felt like it moved in slow motion. Then without even realizing you were staring at his hands in his lap. 

He was fidgeting with his fingers. Probably mindlessly playing with them. Your mind began to drift though, because you know those hands now. You know they are much softer than they initially look. They were warm and strong. His fingers are long and slender, pretty even. Pretty in an artistic way, almost. A memory of them running all over your body imprinted on your mind. Being pulled to the surface. 

Almost too quickly you felt like your face was on fire. The memory coming in small flashes. A laugh to a messy drunken make out in a fluorescent bathroom. Your lips finding their way to his skin. Then being in his apartment and stripping down together. Then suddenly being laid back. First his fingers and and then his tongue painting you with pleasure. You could see his hands in your mind so clearly, then suddenly his eyes. Looking back at you, while he took you over the edge. 

You need to stop. You shook your head and adjusted in your seat almost too quickly. You cannot be thinking about this right now. What is wrong with you? It had to be the wine, you always got somewhat horny when you drank wine. You settled back into your spot, playing it cool. Your eyes danced around the room for a moment. Pulling yourself back down to earth. Keep it together, you are better than this. 

Your eyes glanced at Jungkook for one second. Not even trying to look but you caught him right as he was playing with his lip ring with his tongue. Forcing your eyes to look back to Melanie and the screen. 

Pay attention to the presentation. 

Your foggy conscience easily betrayed you though. This time, quiet and patient kisses in an elevator. Then a dark hotel room. An image of Jungkook standing above you saying please. Then him placed behind you, slipping himself inside–

You take in a sharp breath in through the nose. You begin to pick your own nails. Surely if you keep your hands busy you can keep your mind distracted. Yes you were a little tipsy and you were having flashbacks but you can fight this. Remember he’s gross, awful, and has said horrible things to you. He drives you insane. 

You will not let your tipsy mind flow to... Jungkook. 

You decided you needed to get some ice cold water. The pictures wrapped up, Melanie’s enthusiastic commentary dwindling to polite applause as everyone shifted back to casual conversation. You decided it was the perfect moment to escape, slipping away toward the kitchen with quick, deliberate steps. The quiet was immediate and welcome, wrapping around you like a shield.

Getting yourself a glass and getting some water from the sink. Sipping it quickly, letting the coolness slow your mind.

The reprieve didn’t last long.

You heard the floorboards creak and glanced up just in time to see Jungkook stroll into the kitchen. His presence was impossible to ignore. He didn’t look at you at first, but you felt him there, his every move trying to pull at your attention like a gravitational force.

Your grip on the glass tightened reflexively.

“Jungkook.” Your voice was flat, carefully devoid of emotion.

“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone, brushing past you to grab a glass of his own. His voice carried a teasing edge, but there was something else—something softer underneath.

The silence that followed was sharp and deliberate, the air thick with unspoken words. Jungkook could easily toss out some snarky comment to rile you up, it was practically his trademark, but he didn’t. Not this time.

Instead, he lingered, standing just close enough for the faint scent of his cologne to drift your way. Cedarwood, or something like that. It was annoyingly intoxicating.

You busied yourself with your phone, scrolling aimlessly. A quiet laugh escaped you at something you saw, but it felt too loud in the stillness, too revealing.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook finally broke the silence. “How are you?”

You blinked at your phone, unsure if you’d heard him right. Slowly, you glanced his way. “What?”

“How are you?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his movements almost shy.

“Why?”

“I’m making conversation.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what people do, Y/N. They talk.” His tone had a touch of exasperation, but his lips curled into a faint smirk. “Just answer the question. You’re not going to combust if you do.”

You hesitated, the urge to deflect warring with the odd sincerity in his gaze. “I’m good,” you said finally, though it felt like pulling teeth. “Exhausted, but good.”

“How come?”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to read him. Was this a setup? “I worked an overnight shift last night,” you said cautiously. “So my sleep schedule is all over the place.”

“Overnight shift, huh?” Jungkook turned to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as he studied you. “And you still showed up tonight?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “I missed Melanie and Namjoon. We usually crash here after these things.”

“Crash?” He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

“Yeah.” You smiled despite yourself. “Mel, Ash, and I take over Namjoon and Melanie’s room after too much wine.”

Jungkook let out a low laugh, the sound unexpectedly warm. “That explains it. Namjoon was muttering about an invasion yesterday. Makes sense now.”

You laughed lightly, the tension between you softening for a moment. “Yeah, invasion is probably accurate. If you and Taehyung weren’t here, the living room would already be in ruins.”

Jungkook moved then, stepping toward the sink to fill his glass. The motion was smooth, casual, but you couldn’t ignore how close he came, the heat of his body brushing against yours. The scent of his cologne floating your way one more time. You took a small step to the side, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

He seemed to notice your shift but didn’t comment, his gaze flickering to you for a split second before returning to his glass.

You cleared your throat, your voice quieter than you intended. “How are you?”

Jungkook stilled, glancing at you with something like surprise. For a moment, he didn’t answer, his dark eyes searching your face like he was trying to decide if you meant it.

“I’m alright,” he said finally, his tone subdued. “Busy, though. I’m in the middle of a trial.”

“Right,” you said, nodding. “Lawyer stuff.”

A small, wry smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, lawyer stuff.”

“What kind of trial?” you asked, surprising even yourself.

He hesitated, as if weighing whether to tell you. Finally, he said, “It’s a class-action case. Workers suing their company for unpaid wages. I’m representing them.”

Your eyebrows lifted, genuinely impressed. “Wow. Didn’t expect you to be on the workers’ side.”

Jungkook tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured vaguely. “Knee jerk reaction. I typically expect the worst from you. Most people would go for the big paycheck.”

A low chuckle escaped him, warm and deep. He couldn’t blame you for jumping to a conclusion after all these years. “Fair enough. It was the right thing to do though.” Jungkook rubs on his neck another time. You noticed it, he had done it a couple of times tonight. Almost like it was bothering him. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You tighten your eyebrows together, Jungkook’s eyes meeting yours for just a moment before darting away. 

“Oh,” He twists his neck trying to relieve the discomfort. “My neck is just hurting. I think I slept wrong.” 

“You could take something, or there are some stretches I know that can help.” You begin to look around the kitchen seeing if you can find some ibuprofen. Your hurriedness surprised Jungkook. Threw him off balance. 

“I already took something but didn’t seem to help. Still some pain.” His eyes tracked you round the kitchen as you continued your search. 

“Well I’ll show you the stretches then, grab a chair.” You exhale, nodding your head to one of the chairs at the dining table. 

Jung walked over and pulled one of the chairs out and took a seat. You hesitated for a moment before you stood right behind him. Your hands hovered hesitantly above his shoulders. What the hell were you doing? 

“Are you okay if I just do it… t-to show you how?” You say hesitantly. 

Jungkook doesn’t look back to you but finds himself rather… nervous even. Had you gotten him in the perfect position to actually just strangle you out? Were these his final moments? 

“Just don’t kill me… but yeah go for it.” He nodded, not looking back to you. 

“Okay. Just relax.” 

Jungkook feels you place one hand on his left shoulder, making sure his posture stays back and your other hand resting on the top of his head gently pushing it forward. Jungkook could feel a small pull in his neck stretching it out. The pain was on the right side so this was too bad. Your hand on his shoulder was touching some of the skin on his neck and it felt like it was burning into him. It was quiet, just your quiet breathing filling the room. 

“So you lean your head forward and then you roll your head side to side,” you murmured, guiding his head gently to the left Your voice was softer than you’d intended, the quiet of the kitchen making every word feel heavier.

Jungkook’s breathing hitched slightly, though you weren’t sure if it was from the stretch or the weight of your hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you realized with a jolt that your fingers lingered longer than necessary.

“You should feel a pull right along here.” You hovered for a second, but drew a line along his neck where the muscle was tense. Trying to focus on the task and not the way your voice seemed to tremble.

Your touch made Jungkook want to wiggle away from you. So light but almost electric. His mind drifted away somewhat, almost remembering last week but he kept himself grounded in the present.

“Yeah,” he replied, the pull was slightly painful but felt good. “It’s… helping.” His words were simple, but something about the way he said them made your stomach flip.

You adjusted your hand, sliding it to the other side of his head to tilt it gently to the left. “And this?” You kept your eyes focused on the wall now, You had already spent too much time looking… and thinking about his hands tonight. You didn’t need to think about his neck. 

Jungkook exhaled, a slow, deep sound that felt too intimate in the quiet space. “Better,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“It also helps to roll in circles slowly too. Trying to stretch those muscles as far as you can. You want to feel the pull.” You remove your hand, but keep them on his shoulders as he rolls his head around in slow circles. 

The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light, felt suspended in time. The sounds from the living room—muted laughter, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of louder conversation—faded into the background. It was just you, Jungkook, and the lingering ghost of your touch on his skin.

Your hands had rested on his shoulders longer than they should have. Neither of you had acknowledged it, though Jungkook had noticed. He couldn’t stop noticing. The weight of your touch, light but grounding, had felt entirely different from the energy you normally exuded around him.

Gentle.

It made his pulse quicken, a response he tried desperately to suppress. But his mind betrayed him, conjuring thoughts he had no business entertaining such as your hands moving from his shoulders, sliding down his chest, fingers tracing his jawline—

He swallowed hard, forcing himself back to reality. Because that feeling was there again, that small guilty twist in his stomach. What he had been telling Taehyung about bubbled up. He still couldn’t name it, because guilt didn’t feel right. It wasn’t that but it felt so strange. What was that?

Almost like the universe had heard his struggle, Taehyung appeared in the doorway, a wide grin already plastered on his face. His eyes scanned the scene quickly, locking onto Jungkook still seated and you standing just behind him.

“Oh my god it’s finally happening. Y/N is going to strangle you out!” Taehyung gasped and threw his hands over his mouth dramatically, “Y/N please spare him! He’s a good boy!”

You laugh to yourself, stepping back from Jungkook letting your hands fall away from him. The absence of touch is almost louder than the conflict itself. “I’m not strangling him,” you said, crossing your arms and giving Taehyung a look. “This time. Now roll your shoulders back.” you instructed Jungkook, stepping even farther away as if to reestablish boundaries.

Jungkook complied without a word, rotating his shoulders as you’d shown him. He tilted his head from side to side, testing the stretch. When his gaze flicked back to you, a faint smile tugged at his lips. “You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

“I do it for patients all the time, the hospital beds are notoriously uncomfortable.” You replied, shrugging as if it were nothing. Your arms stayed crossed, a subtle shield against the shift in energy between you. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t feel like nothing,” he said, his words soft but lingering. His eyes stayed on you a fraction too long, enough to make your chest tighten and your cheeks warm.

Taehyung, clearly enjoying himself, stepped farther into the kitchen. His smile widened, but he kept his tone light. “What exactly were you doing?”

“I slept weird last night,” Jungkook interjected, standing up from the chair and adjusting it neatly back under the table. “My neck’s been hurting all day. Y/N was just showing me some stretches to help.”

Taehyung hummed, unconvinced. His gaze darted between you and Jungkook like he was piecing together a puzzle. “Right. Stretching. Sure.”

You decide this is your chance to escape out of here. You pick up your glass and exit the kitchen quickly to rejoin the others in the living room. The kitchen was quieter now that you’d left, though the tension you’d unintentionally abandoned seemed to cling to the air like static. Taehyung leaned against the counter, his grin infuriatingly smug as he watched Jungkook refill his glass of water, the younger man pointedly ignoring him.

“If I had shown up even a second later, you two would’ve probably stripped naked,” Taehyung said.

Jungkook groaned, turning his back on him to hide his flushed face. “We were only talking.”

Taehyung nodded sagely, his expression far too knowing. “Oh, sure. Just talking. Nothing else. Completely innocent. Two people practically pressed against each other in a dimly lit kitchen, having a totally platonic chat.”

Jungkook shot him a glare. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung replied smoothly. “But it’s part of my charm. So, what was it really? A nice heart-to-heart, or were you two silently fighting like usual?”

Jungkook paused, his hand tightening briefly on his glass. “No… no, actually. It was just a conversation. Awkward, but… maybe the most normal we’ve spoken to each other in years.”

Taehyung’s grin widened as he pushed off the counter, his eyes alight with mischief. “Told you.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m always right and you know it.” 

“No you’re not.”

“She was sweet, though, wasn’t she?” Taehyung continued, his voice quieter now, his teasing edge softening. “Almost shy? Kind, even?”

Jungkook hesitated, his gaze fixed on the countertop. He hated how easily Taehyung saw through him, but there was no use denying it. “...Yeah,” he admitted grudgingly, barely above a whisper.

Taehyung clapped him on the shoulder, his grin shifting into something genuine. “See? Progress. Keep trying.”

Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck where your touch still lingered faintly. “Yeah. Easier said than done.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

Taglist!:@akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl @kookienooki @btstrology @in-out-inbetween @kookienooki

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・