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sylviamuela · 17 days ago

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Limelight . JJK oneshot (1)

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; After five years of chasing her dreams abroad, Iris returns to her small hometown, eager to embrace a fresh start with a new degree and a quiet apartment. But the peace she craves is quickly shattered by the relentless sounds of punches and grunts echoing from the apartment next door. What starts as a tense confrontation soon sparks a fiery chemistry neither of them expected as she comes face to face with her high school crush, now a determined, world-renowned boxer. As their paths cross once more, Iris can't help but wonder if this unexpected encounter might lead to a chance at the love she once thought was out of reach.

↳ pairing; Boxer Jungkook x reader

↳ strangers to lovers, rekindling old flames, fluff

Kofi

Next part

Part One

The air felt different as I stepped off the bus and onto the weathered streets of my small hometown. There was a distinct sense of familiarity in the way the morning sun reflected off the old brick buildings, as if they too were caught in the same cycle of nostalgia that was now rushing through me. I hadn’t been back here in five years, but as I walked, it was as if time had stood still.

The same rows of houses stood proudly on either side, their paint faded and chipped in places but still standing strong. The distant hum of daily life—the chatter from the corner café, the low murmur of passing cars—reminded me of my past, and yet I felt like a stranger walking through it all.

I adjusted the strap of my bag, the weight of my decisions pulling me forward. I was different now—more polished, more certain. But it wasn’t lost on me that coming back to this place felt like returning to the beginning, like I was revisiting the person I used to be and wondering if I could ever fully shed that skin.

My new apartment was just a few blocks away. It was modern, sleek, nothing like the quaint little house I had grown up in. I had worked hard for this moment—the quiet space that would become mine. I couldn’t wait to start over, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive about what I was really walking into.

As I approached my building, I caught a glimpse of someone ahead of me on the sidewalk. They were walking towards me, and even from a distance, I recognized the familiar gait.The memory of our old friendship came rushing back—quiet afternoons spent in the park, nights watching movies, and those long, aimless conversations we used to have.

We hadn’t kept in touch much after high school, each of us pursuing different paths, but something about seeing him again felt like an anchor.

“Iris?” Kai’s voice was full of disbelief, as if the sight of me standing there was something too surreal to process. It echoed the same warmth and sincerity I remembered from all those years ago, that easy kindness he carried—something that was just naturally a part of him..

"Hey," I said, my voice a little too soft, feeling like I hadn’t quite figured out how to say the words I’d been holding onto all this time. I set my suitcase down and stepped closer, the familiar beat of my heart quickening with excitement. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug, the kind that only old friends could share—tight, almost urgent, as if trying to make up for lost time.

His embrace was warm, his body solid and real, and for a second, I could almost pretend nothing had changed, that we were still the two kids who spent lazy afternoons talking about everything and anything at all.

When we pulled away, I could see the surprise etched across his face, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. "You’re back?" he asked, his voice edged with something close to awe. "I didn’t even know you were coming."

I smiled, the rush of nostalgia flooding through me. "It’s a surprise," I said, my words coming out almost breathless. I hadn’t even told my parents yet—wanted to see their faces when I walked through the door. "I thought I’d catch everyone off guard."

"Well, wow," Kai said, shaking his head slowly. His eyes still didn’t quite believe it. "I never thought you’d come back. Shit. I’m honestly in shock right now."

"Yeah, I didn’t think I’d come back either," I said, my voice softening as I glanced around the street, as if trying to anchor myself in the moment. "It feels strange but good, I think I just needed a change. You know how it is."

We stood there for a long moment, the weight of years between us hanging in the quiet space that neither of us knew how to fill. Five years had passed, five years filled with new experiences, new lives. But somehow, the world around us felt the same—unchanged. And yet, we both knew, deep down, that we weren’t the same. Neither of us had stayed in place.

"No yeah of course, so what’ve you been up to?" Kai asked, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. There was a curiosity in his voice, but it was tinged with something else—a hint of pride, maybe, or maybe just the simple joy of hearing my story. "I saw something about you passing the bar a while ago. But other than that I don’t really know much."

A small, satisfied smile tugged at my lips. I had worked for this, fought for it. It wasn’t something I had shared with anyone outside of close circles, but now, talking to him, it felt like I could finally let it spill out. "Yeah, I graduated from law school a few years ago," I said, letting the weight of the words settle. "Been working at a firm in the city. It's been hectic, but it’s definitely paid off." I paused, glancing up at him, the excitement bubbling up again. "And now I’m done with school.Thought it was time to take a break and come home."

Kai’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. "Wow," he said, his voice infused with admiration. "A lawyer, huh? I always knew you’d go on to do big things."

It felt good to hear that—those words that meant more than just approval. They carried weight, because Kai had always been the one who knew me best back then. He knew how I dreamed of doing something meaningful, something big, and hearing him say it out loud made it real. "Well, it hasn’t been easy," I said, with a small shrug. "A lot of long nights and even longer days, but I made it. And now, I’m going to start a new chapter in my new apartment."

Kai’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. "Wait, you’re not staying with your folks?" His voice rose an octave, disbelief taking over. "Where are you staying, then?"

I couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at my lips. It felt good to let it out, to let him see the strides I had taken. "The Heights," I said, my voice almost smug, though I didn’t mean it to be.

His expression froze for a moment, as if processing what I’d just said. His eyes flicked down to the suitcase at my feet and then back to me, and I could see the shock register. "Hold on, The Heights?" he asked, his voice incredulous. "As in the most expensive apartment complex in the whole city, that The Heights, seriously?"

I nodded, feeling a rush of pride course through me. "Yeah," I said, my voice steady but tinged with satisfaction. "That’s the one. It’s perfect Kai, I just need some peace and quiet, no more fighting over the bathroom or having to hide snacks."

Kai blinked at me, his mouth dropping open. "Damn sis I knew lawyers made a lot of money but shit that place is hella expensive, you gotta show me around some time."

I shrugged, trying to downplay the growing sense of accomplishment in my chest. "Oh I definitely will, turns out when you’re a corporate lawyer you can make things like that work. So I thought why not, it’s a good investment and I’ve worked hard for it."

Kai stared at me for a moment, shaking his head as if he was still trying to catch up. "God, I can’t believe this," he said, a small laugh escaping him. "I wish those stupid bitches from highschool could see you now, they’d shit their pants.."

"Thanks, Kai," I said, unable to wipe the smile from my face. There was something comforting about hearing his approval, about having him see me, finally, as the person I’d become. "It feels like it’s been a long time coming."

"Well, if anyone deserves it, it’s you," Kai said, his voice warm with sincerity. There was no mistaking the pride in his words, and for a moment, everything felt right again. "I’m happy for you. Really."

"Thanks." I glanced down at my watch, suddenly aware that I was running out of time. "Shit, I’d love to keep talking but I should probably get going, I need to unpack and get settled in. But let’s definitely catch up soon, okay?"

"Of course," Kai replied, flashing that easy grin that I remembered so well. "Let me know if you need anything. And we are definitely grabbing a drink sometime soon. Don’t forget that."

"For sure," I said, giving him a small wave. As I turned to walk toward my new apartment, I felt a mix of emotions settle in my chest. A sense of finality, maybe, or maybe it was more like relief. I was saying goodbye to something—some version of myself—and stepping into a new chapter of my life.

And yet, the entire time, Kai’s presence lingered in my mind, like a bridge between the past and the future. The years had changed us both in ways we couldn’t quite articulate, but somehow, in that brief moment of connection, we had found something that was still us.

The apartment complex was a far cry from anything I’d ever imagined for myself growing up in this small town. As I stepped through the front doors, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of luxury settle around me. The lobby was an open, airy space that stretched far beyond what seemed necessary, with towering windows that let in the soft afternoon light, casting everything in a golden hue.

The floors were polished marble—so smooth and reflective that they almost looked like they could have been an extension of the sky. Everything screamed opulence, from the sleek, modern furnishings to the delicate touches of gold and glass accents that shimmered subtly in the sunlight.

The scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, their fragrance light and sweet, adding an almost surreal quality to the space. Soft classical music played from hidden speakers, filling the silence with a calmness that seemed intentional—designed to soothe and impress. A large chandelier made of crystal dangled from the ceiling, its delicate prongs glistening as they caught the light.

Everything in the lobby exuded a sense of wealth—this wasn’t the kind of place someone like me would’ve been familiar with just five years ago. The kind of place where only the elite, the successful, the untouchable people lived. I felt out of place, yet at the same time, a rush of pride swelled inside me.

I approached the front desk, trying to act casual, even though every part of me felt like I was in a dream. The receptionist, impeccably dressed in a minimalist black suit, smiled warmly as I approached. “Welcome, Miss Iris,” she said, her voice as polished as everything around us. She handed me the key to my new apartment with a grace that made the whole interaction feel almost theatrical.

“If you need anything at all, please let me know. I’d be happy to help.” Her words were polite, professional, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was so used to dealing with people like this—the ones who belonged here. The ones who fit into the sleek, perfectly curated world of The Heights.

“Thank you,” I said, offering a polite smile before heading toward the elevator. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of anticipation as I pressed the button for the top floor. The building was stunning, and everything about it felt like the next step in my life.

The elevator doors opened to the top floor with a soft chime, and I stepped out, looking down the hall to my door. As I walked toward it, I tried to imagine what my new life would look like here—what it would feel like to truly call this place home. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, immediately struck by the spaciousness of the apartment.

It was everything I had hoped for: clean, modern, filled with light and possibility. The windows offered a breathtaking view of the town, its familiarity mixing with the excitement of this new chapter.

I dropped my suitcase, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease for the first time in days. I walked through the apartment, taking in the details—the sleek furniture, the open kitchen, the large windows that seemed to stretch out forever. It felt like the first place I had ever truly owned, and it was mine.

Without thinking, I ran across the living room, a sense of childlike wonder rising in me. I laughed quietly to myself, overwhelmed by how perfect everything was. I let myself flop onto the couch, staring at the ceiling and exhaling a long, contented breath.

Just as I finally began to settle in, letting the soft hum of the apartment calm my nerves, a sudden thud shattered the peace. My body went stiff, every muscle tightening instinctively. The sound was so loud, so jarring, that it felt as if the walls themselves had trembled in response. I sat up straight, my pulse quickening as I tried to make sense of what I’d just heard.

Then, a steady, rhythmic pounding followed—a heavy thwack, thwack, thwack against what I could only imagine was the wall separating us. The sound reverberated through the floor and up into my chest, like the thundering pulse of something alive, relentless.

There was a brief pause, a brief silence that made my skin crawl. And then, a deep grunt echoed through the air, followed by more pounding—louder now, faster, as though someone was throwing their entire body into each strike. It was impossible to ignore, impossible to pretend it wasn’t happening.

I furrowed my brow, feeling the heat of irritation spread through my veins. I hadn’t expected to hear anything so aggressive. The noise rattled through the apartment like a storm crashing through a quiet night, and for a split second, I found myself holding my breath, waiting for it to stop. But it didn’t.

---------------------------------

Several hours later, the noise hadn’t ceased. If anything, it had grown more persistent, more punishing. The sound of fists pounding against something—hard and fast—seemed to rattle every corner of the apartment. I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my body tense and unwilling to relax, even as the sheets shifted beneath me.

Every thud felt like it was reverberating through the floorboards, through the walls, like some kind of invasion of my very space. Each hit landed with a sickening resonance that seemed to crawl beneath my skin, digging its way into my patience.

I couldn’t take it any longer.

I threw the covers off, frustration boiling in my chest. I needed to sleep. I deserved to sleep in peace for once, and yet here I was, trapped in an endless loop of noise that refused to stop. My thoughts spun with annoyance, frustration, and a growing sense of helplessness. What kind of person does this? What kind of neighbor keeps someone awake like this, pounding away like a damn animal? It was disrespectful and I was done being the silent victim of it.

I stood up, the cool floor against my bare feet grounding me for a moment as I walked toward the door, trying to think through my next steps. The thought of confronting this loud, inconsiderate stranger sent a mixture of dread and determination through me, but I was past the point of simply ignoring it.

I changed into my silk pajamas—soft and comforting, but completely incongruent with the sense of agitation I was carrying, the fabric slid against my skin as I adjusted the top and pulled the shorts on. With every step I took toward the door, I could feel my heart pounding louder than the noise. By the time I reached it, my resolve had solidified. This wasn’t just about sleep anymore. This was about respect. It couldn’t just play nice and let this idiot walk all over me.

I stepped forward and knocked. Hard. The sound of my fist hitting the door felt like it would be enough to wake the dead, but when I stood there, waiting for a response it was met with silence. Nothing. My teeth clenched as I slammed my fist against the door again, harder this time, trying to shake whatever the hell this person was doing in there, to make them hear me. Still nothing. I could feel my patience unraveling with each passing second. The pounding continued—louder, faster, more frantic, as if mocking my attempt to get their attention.

I was at the brink. Frustrated, I pressed my shoulder against the door and used my full weight to push against it. Nothing. It was locked. But then, just as I was about to lose it, the door swung open suddenly—too fast—and my body lurched forward, caught off guard. I crashed straight into something warm and solid—someone, to be exact.

Strong arms wrapped around me instinctively, holding me steady as I stumbled forward.

“Are you okay?” The voice that spoke was low and smooth, laced with concern and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

I blinked, a little dazed from the collision, but I quickly recovered, stepping back with a nervous laugh to smooth out the front of my silk pajamas. "Yeah. Sorry about that." I glanced up at the man, trying to pull myself together. "I’m your new neighbor," I said, forcing the words out in a business-like manner, but something about the situation made it feel surreal.

And then I met his eyes. Everything stopped. The room, the noise, my racing thoughts—they all faded away, eclipsed by the shock of recognition. Standing before me, looking like some kind of vision, was Jungkook. My highschool crush, and the most popular guy in school who had been a distant figure back then, someone so far out of my reach that I never once considered the possibility of us crossing paths..

But now—he was standing there, inches away from me, with a body built from hours of training and discipline. His black t-shirt stretched across his chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps, revealing tattoos that snaked down his arms, some intricate, some abstract. His dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. His jawline was sharp, his eyes intense, and his gaze held a curiosity that made my stomach twist in an unexpected, unsettling way.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place, completely caught off guard by the man in front of me. And then, as if to snap me back into reality, he spoke again, this time his tone was cold and a little impatient. "Do you need something?" he asked, his words clipped. "I'm in the middle of a training session."

I blinked, finding my voice again, though it was laced with irritation. "Actually, yes," I shot back, the tension I’d been holding onto spilling out. “I need you to keep it down. I can’t sleep with all that noise you’re making. It’s disrespectful to your neighbors.”

The words left my mouth sharper than I’d intended, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I cared. He had no right to be this loud. No right to make me feel like I was the one in the wrong.Jungkook looked at me, his expression unreadable for a beat. But something flickered behind his eyes—an irritation that mirrored my own.

The silence between us hung thick in the air, charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on. Was he really this rude? This inconsiderate? I’d come here, expecting at least some understanding, but instead, I felt like I was standing on the wrong side of an unspoken line.

“No.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the burning irritation that was quickly flooding through me. “No,” I repeated, my voice still steady, but firm. It was the only word I could manage, but it carried everything I wanted to say.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t having it. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that same unbothered, borderline dismissive expression still on his face. "No," he said back, his tone harsh and almost mocking, as if my complaint was nothing more than a small inconvenience to him. "I've been living here for years, and no one has ever complained about the noise. So why the hell should I stop just because my bratty new neighbor thinks she can tell me what to do?"

My mouth fell open. Bratty? The word stung, and I immediately felt the weight of the insult. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing—this was how he was going to handle it? Like it was nothing, like I was nothing? The nerve of him. I took a step forward, my anger flaring. “Excuse me?” I bit out, my voice sharper now. “You don't get to call me that. I'm just asking for a little respect.”

But Jungkook stood his ground, his eyes narrowing, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’m not stopping, okay? Deal with it.” He turned away, leaving me standing in the doorway, mouth agape and completely speechless.

I stood there for a moment, my chest tight with frustration, my pulse racing. I had never expected such a careless, rude response. How could someone be so selfish? I was being reasonable, but he didn’t give a damn. As much as I hated it, there was nothing more I could do. Not here, not now.

Sighing in defeat, I turned around and walked out of his apartment, heading toward the front desk. Maybe there was something else I could do. Maybe I could change rooms. A different floor, a quieter corner of the building—anything to get away from the noise.

When I reached the front desk, I didn’t even hesitate before asking. “Hi, is there any way I can change rooms? The noise from next door is unbearable. I can't sleep like this.” The receptionist gave me a gentle, apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Iris, but there are only two penthouse suites in the building—the one you're staying in and the other one that Mr. Jeon Jungkook occupies. Unfortunately, we don't have any available rooms on that floor."

I froze. The weight of the words crashed down on me, and I felt a dull sense of panic creep into my chest. The other penthouse suite. Of course, he’d be on the same floor. It only made sense.

I let out a long, defeated sigh. “Right. Thanks.” There was nothing I could do, no way around it. I couldn’t change floors, and the thought of confronting Jungkook again made me feel sick to my stomach.

I turned and trudged back toward my apartment, the long hallway stretching out before me like a labyrinth of inevitable frustration. I wanted to slam the door and bury myself under the covers, but I couldn’t escape the noise. It was going to be a long night.

Hours later, I was still wide awake. Every thud, every grunt, every strike against the wall felt like a hammer against my skull. My eyes felt heavy, but sleep never came. The time seemed to stretch on and on, an endless cycle of noise and silence, my body aching for rest that was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t blinked in what felt like forever. The pounding from next door showed no sign of stopping. The clock on my bedside table seemed to mock me, ticking away in slow motion.

When the noise finally ceased, my body went rigid with hope. I nearly leaped out of bed, glancing at the clock—only to freeze when I saw the time. It was 9 AM. A full night had passed, and I hadn't slept a wink. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I groaned in frustration, rubbing my eyes furiously, trying to will myself into consciousness despite the exhaustion that weighed me down.

With a sigh, I shuffled to the bathroom, throwing my hair into a messy bun and slipping on the soft robe I had left hanging in the bathroom. I needed coffee. I needed something to wake up and get through this first day back. My mind felt foggy, my head pounding in sync with the sleepless night I had just endured.

Making my way down to the breakfast bar, I was surprised at how quiet it was. The entire space was empty—no other guests, no bustling crowd to greet me. The silence in the lavish room only highlighted the sense of isolation that had settled over me, and my eyes flitted over the marble countertops and gleaming surfaces. It was beautiful—too beautiful.

I approached the nearest waiter, still feeling the weight of sleep-deprivation pressing on me, and asked in a daze, “Where is everyone? Is this place usually empty?”

The waiter offered a polite, almost apologetic smile. “This breakfast is only open to the penthouse suite owners, Miss Iris,” he explained softly, as if it were some exclusive secret that only a select few knew about. “It's a private service.”

I blinked, surprised at the exclusivity. The penthouse suites were far more than just lavish; they were reserved, and that alone made me feel like I had just entered a whole new world of luxury I never fully understood until now. My excitement flickered, and I felt a small smile tug at my lips as I made my way toward the nearest table.

But then, just as I was about to sit down, I heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. My stomach dropped, and I turned just in time to see Jungkook walk into the breakfast bar, looking completely at ease, as if he belonged here. His presence made my heart stutter for a moment. Of course, he would be here too. How could I forget that we were now neighbors?

I stood frozen, my initial excitement now replaced with a dull, sinking feeling. The reality of sharing this space with him, knowing that we were stuck on the same floor, made my stomach twist in a way I hadn’t expected.

Jungkook caught my eye briefly, and the brief flicker of recognition that passed between us was enough to send a pulse of heat to my cheeks. But I quickly looked away, my nerves spiking again as I tried to calm the swirl of thoughts flooding my mind.

The moment I sat down at the breakfast bar, I tried my hardest to ignore Jungkook's presence. I had already been up for hours, exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to deal with was him, his presence already irritating me the moment he walked in. I had been up most of the night, tossing and turning, listening to the constant noise next door, and I had gotten nothing but frustration and sleep deprivation in return. The last thing I needed was to engage with him, so I focused on my pancakes, pretending he wasn’t sitting across from me.

I took a bite, trying to savor the food, but the heaviness of the night still lingered in the pit of my stomach. I should’ve gotten a different room. But that thought wasn’t going to help anything now. I wasn’t going to waste my time thinking about how I’d gotten myself into this situation. My gaze stayed fixed on the plate, my fork moving in robotic circles as I tried to block him out.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard the scrape of a chair. Without any warning, Jungkook slid into the seat directly across from me, his leg grazing mine as he did so. I couldn’t help but flinch slightly, my eyes narrowing in response, but I didn’t look up. Not at first. If he thought I was going to acknowledge his presence, he was sorely mistaken.

“So, this is how you're gonna be, huh?” Jungkook’s voice was casual, but there was a hint of amusement behind it.

I resisted the urge to snap at him. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was getting under my skin. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep my calm.

I kept my gaze down, forcing myself to finish my pancakes. It wasn’t about the food. It wasn’t about the luxury of the breakfast bar. It was about controlling myself, staying composed. The idea of letting him have any kind of power over me made me angry.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t about to let me have my peace. “You really gonna act like I’m not here?” he added, his tone almost playful, but there was an edge to it, like he was enjoying watching me try to hold it together.

My anger simmered, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Do you ever stop being a complete asshole?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but I didn’t regret them. He was the one who had disrupted my peace. He was the one who had kept me awake all night. He deserved every bit of my irritation.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze intense as it held mine for a beat. Then, as if realizing the full extent of what I was saying, his expression softened just a little. "My bad," he said, but the way he said it felt dismissive, like he didn’t really care at all.

My bad? That was it? After everything? He was acting like it was just a minor inconvenience to him, and it pissed me off even more. There was no apology in his voice, no empathy for the fact that I hadn’t slept at all the night before. It was like he couldn’t be bothered.

I set my fork down and exhaled sharply, my patience wearing thin. I finished my pancakes in silence, but the entire time, I felt that knot of anger twisting tighter and tighter in my chest.

As I pushed my plate away, preparing to stand up and leave, I was ready to just get away from him. I couldn’t take being in the same space as him for another second. I could already feel the annoyance bubbling up again, and I just needed to be somewhere else—anywhere else.

But as I stood, ready to leave, Jungkook reached out and grabbed my arm. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, and I froze for a moment, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

For a brief, fleeting second, I thought maybe—just maybe—he was going to apologize. Maybe he was going to admit that he’d been an asshole and that he would stop making so much noise. The warmth of his hand on my arm felt almost... protective, as though he wanted to keep me in place. I half-expected him to say something like, “I’m sorry, I’ll turn the volume down next time.”

But instead, the smirk spread across his face, and his grip tightened just a little. "You know," he began, his voice low, teasing, "your shorts are inside out."

I froze, my face flushing a deep crimson as I looked down, horrified to see the tag sticking out of the waistband. Of course, I thought. Of course, he’d notice something like that.

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I hurriedly yanked at the waistband, trying to fix it. My stomach churned with embarrassment, and I could feel the weight of the situation hitting me all at once. My body was still tense from the anger, the lack of sleep, and now, the sheer mortification of having him point out something so trivial, but so incredibly embarrassing.

"Shut up," I muttered, my face burning. I wanted to get out of there, away from his knowing gaze, away from his smirk, away from everything. I stood up abruptly, feeling the urge to just leave before I did something I might regret. "Stupid Jungkook," I muttered under my breath as I quickly walked away, my heart pounding in my chest.

I didn’t look back as I made my way to the elevator, the sting of humiliation and frustration still fresh in my mind. My thoughts were a whirlwind—Why the hell couldn’t I just get some peace? Why was he so impossible?

And yet, as I stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, I couldn’t help but think—He doesn’t even know how much he’s gotten under my skin. He’s the kind of guy who never gives a damn about anyone else. But I had no choice but to deal with him. He was my neighbor, and I had a feeling that this was just the beginning of a much bigger problem.

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The next few days unfolded exactly like the first—loud thuds, grunts, and the relentless pounding from next door that kept me from getting a single full night of sleep. No matter what time of day it was, it felt like the noise never stopped. I could practically feel the vibrations through the walls, and every time I tried to drift off, the sounds of his training echoed in my ears, only growing louder and more intrusive. I was at my breaking point.

I couldn’t take it anymore. He had turned my peaceful, quiet homecoming into a constant cycle of irritation and exhaustion. I had tried to be patient, but no more. It was time for a little payback.

I thought about it carefully—how to retaliate without it looking like I was being petty. The solution came to me one evening, like a light bulb going off in my head. I was going to play the piano. But not just play it. I would play it in a way that would get under his skin, just like he had done to me. I knew I had to be strategic.

So, I placed a call to have a piano delivered to my apartment. I set it up near the window so the sound would bounce right off the walls. I spent the next few hours playing scales, messing around with random notes, and making sure every press of the keys was off-pitch, each note slightly dissonant. All while wearing noise-canceling headphones, of course, ensuring I couldn’t hear a thing. My purpose was simple: to be as annoying as possible, to drown out his noise with my own.

For hours, I played with purpose—pressing the wrong keys deliberately, hitting sharp and flat notes with no care for melody or rhythm. It felt oddly satisfying to take control of the situation, to disrupt his training the way he had disrupted my sleep.

Then, just as I started to think I had finally achieved a moment of sweet vengeance, I heard it. A loud bang—like someone had kicked my door. My smirk curled into a grin as I turned the volume on the piano down, straining to listen.

The door rattled with another forceful knock. I stood up and smoothed my shirt, bracing myself for the confrontation. I knew who it was before I even opened the door. The deep, frustrated sigh, the unmistakable presence of him standing on the other side. As I pulled it open, I was met with the sight of Jungkook standing in the doorway, shirtless, his well-defined tattoos now fully on display. His breath was ragged, and his expression was dark, almost seething.

I couldn’t help but notice how much more intimidating he looked without a shirt. His muscles rippled with every movement, and his tattoos—dark, intricate—made him look even more imposing. But none of that could disguise the anger that flashed across his face.

He took a step forward, his eyes burning with irritation. “Are you on something?” he asked, his voice low and rough, the anger evident in his tone.

I blinked innocently, feigning a calm I didn’t quite feel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness, though my mind was anything but. Inside, I was brimming with a sense of victory—he had come to me, just like I knew he would.

He was seething now, his fists clenching at his sides. “This isn’t funny,” he growled, his voice dropping into a warning. “You’ve been playing that damn thing for hours. I could hear you through the walls. What is it, some kind of revenge thing?”

I raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile tugging at my lips. “Revenge?” I repeated, making a show of thinking. “I’m not sure. I’m just practicing. I don’t know why you’re so bothered by it.”

The room between us felt charged with tension, his anger mixing with my frustration. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could practically feel the standoff, the quiet before something bigger broke out.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression softening just a bit. "Look," he muttered, clearly trying to calm himself down, "you need to stop playing that piano. It's driving me insane."

I didn’t back down, my eyes narrowing. "You think I want to listen to you training all day?"

We stared each other down, neither of us willing to back off. The silence between us grew thick, before he exhaled sharply, a reluctant agreement slipping from his lips. "Fine. Here’s the deal. I’ll cut my training down."

I felt a rush of relief, knowing I had found a middle ground. And I was finally getting some control back. "Alright," I said, my voice firmer now. "And I’ll keep playing the piano for a few hours in the morning." I crossed my arms and looked at him expectantly.

Jungkook stared at me for a long moment, his chest still heaving slightly from the anger and the physical exertion. But finally, he nodded.

“Deal.”

I smirked, satisfied. "Good," I said, giving him one last look. "I’ll hold you to that."

With that, I closed the door between us, my heart racing with the adrenaline of the standoff. I had won this round. It felt good. But something told me this wasn’t the last time we’d clash. Not by a long shot.

The night that followed was the most peaceful one I’d had in ages. No incessant thumping, no distant grunts, no thuds of a punch landing on a bag or weights clanging in a makeshift gym. Just the soft hum of the city around me, the kind that I had long since gotten used to but had never truly appreciated until now. It was like the universe had decided to give me a break, a moment of silence after the chaos that Jungkook had brought into my life.

I settled into the quiet, my body finally relaxing after what felt like an eternity of exhaustion. But still, the strange thoughts kept bubbling up in my mind—thoughts I didn’t want to entertain, yet couldn’t push away. Jungkook. The man who had once been the object of my high school crush, and who now, in a strange twist of fate, was my infuriatingly loud neighbor.

Curiosity gnawed at me, making it impossible to focus. I needed to know more about him. What had happened to that carefree boy I had crushed on all those years ago? What was he like now? What has changed? I grabbed my phone, typing his name into the search bar, almost hesitantly. The results came up almost instantly, and I was met with a flood of information that left me speechless.

Jungkook was not just any man. He was a world-famous boxer. His net worth? Billions. Billions. It was hard to wrap my head around. No wonder he spent so much time training—he wasn’t just trying to maintain a career, he was trying to stay at the top of his game. And with that much money, it made sense why he lived the way he did. No wonder he didn’t seem to care about the noise he was making. He was too far removed from the rest of us.

I leaned back, staring at the phone screen. It was so surreal to think about. In high school, Jungkook had been the charming, confident athlete, always surrounded by the popular girls who adored him, their hands all over him, praising him like he was some kind of god. I had been a quiet girl, more interested in my grades than in chasing popularity. He never noticed me then, and looking at him now, it wasn’t much of a surprise that he didn’t recognize me.

But still, part of me couldn’t help but wonder how much of the man I saw now was still that same guy. Was he still driven by the same love for sports, the same desire to be the best? Or had he become consumed by his success, turning into someone completely different?

I pushed the thoughts aside. No need to dwell on it. I had my own life now, my own accomplishments, and I didn’t need to compare myself to him. Still, the question lingered: What happened to the Jungkook I once admired?

I decided I needed a change of scenery. I couldn’t stay cooped up in my room any longer. I slid open the balcony door and stepped outside, grateful for the cool air that hit my skin. The city stretched out before me, the lights from the streets below twinkling like stars, and the faint sounds of traffic drifting up. I leaned against the railing, taking in the view, letting my thoughts settle.

I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to focus on the peace of the night. But then, I heard it. A slow exhale, deep and deliberate. My eyes snapped open, and I turned to see none other than Jungkook standing next to me on his balcony, barely a few feet away.

He was shirtless, his hair damp as if he had just stepped out of the shower, and he was holding a cigarette between his fingers. His gaze flicked over to me, and I felt my heart stutter in my chest. There he was, standing like he owned the entire city, as confident as ever. I couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that covered his arms, the muscles that rippled as he moved.

"It’s rude to stare, you know," he said, his voice casual but laced with that same smugness I remembered from high school.

I blinked, a little caught off guard, but quickly regained my composure. "I wasn’t staring," I shot back, crossing my arms.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Yeah, sure. You’re not exactly being subtle, you know."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I wasn’t about to back down. "What do you want, Jungkook?"

He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving me. "I’m bored," he said, his tone almost whiny, but with a hint of frustration. "I'd be training right now, but I can't because of you." He paused, his gaze flicking down to the floor of his balcony before meeting mine again. "It’s kind of annoying, you know. You’ve been killing my vibe."

I stared at him, taken aback. What was he talking about? "You’re the one making all the noise," I said, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice. "I’ve barely gotten any sleep because of you."

Jungkook just shrugged, unfazed. "Well, I didn’t tell you to move next door to me." His voice was flat, almost dismissive.

I was livid. "Maybe you should learn to be more considerate of the people around you," I snapped, my anger rising again.

He just exhaled smoke and leaned back against the railing. "My bad," he said, his tone sarcastic. "I’ll make sure to send you a nice apology card next time."

I shot him a glare but didn’t respond. We stood there in silence for a moment, the only sounds the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of wind in the trees. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was strangely calm. Then, Jungkook broke the silence again.

“So,” he began, tilting his head slightly, “do you have anything to do right now?” His tone was casual, like he was genuinely asking, but there was a hint of something else behind it.

I was taken aback for a moment. “No,” I answered slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

He took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled, then glanced over at me with that same mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, if you don't have anything to do... wanna chill for a bit?"

I couldn’t help but stare at him. What was he playing at now? He leaned against the railing casually, his posture relaxed, as if this was some normal, everyday invitation.

“I don’t bite,” he added with a smirk.

I raised an eyebrow, the corners of my mouth twitching. “Sure you don’t,” I said, folding my arms.

He chuckled, unbothered by my sharp reply. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’m not such a bad guy, you know.”

I hesitated, unsure what to say. Part of me wanted to keep my distance, to keep him at arm’s length. But another part of me… well, curiosity got the best of me. He was right about one thing: we hadn’t really talked outside of all the noise and hostility. Maybe it was worth a shot.

“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile that tugged at my lips. "I’ll chill for a bit. But don’t get any weird ideas."

His grin widened, and without missing a beat, he pushed off from the railing, heading toward the entrance to his apartment. “Good. Come over.”

222 notes · View notes

sylviamuela · 17 days ago

Text

A Single Daffodil || 7

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 6.2K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: maybe some angst?? not really, it's pretty fluffy

Author's Note: hello hello!! i hope you're all well! sorry (again) for taking so long to get this out, but i think i'm as happy as i can be with this chapter. it's not perfect and i'm worried it'll be boring, but i like it, i think! well, i had fun writing it at least, and i hope you have fun reading it! it isn't super closely proofread so i'm sorry for any errors, i just wanted to get this posted today!!

TAGLIST CLOSED [follow asingledaffodil tag for all notifications]

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandyrecs @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling @themwordsblog @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @kimmalik @pastelpeachess @captainchrisstan @khaimahfe @kooklovee @whoa-jo @familiarlikemymirror3 @blueberriesm @llallaaa @purpleheartsandarock1 @lillmeowmeowsblog @this-most-assuredly-counts @kayleefriedchicken @ur-grandmum @sylviamuela @notarshia @minghaosimp @ilikekpop-c @maynina @rinkud @jesshujk @kimsaerom @suker4angst @mar-627 @maynina @pitchblack0309 @wobblewobble822 @praetae @yoongibaybee @weareatthebadlands

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The alarm blaring in your ear felt foreign and your eyes were bleary as you blinked awake, vision slowly coming into focus. Momentarily, you forgot why you’d set your alarm, having gotten too used to sleeping in the past two weeks, but your senses soon came back to you. It was your first day back to the office after your extended vacation in place of a honeymoon.

The idea of it made you laugh slightly, like there was ever a honeymoon in the cards for you, but you soon silenced when you remembered the past weekend. Yoongi and you had gone on a semi-date, which meant that you would probably end up dating, which would lead to marriage (even though you were already married), and then a real honeymoon? Your head spun, it was too early to be overthinking like this.

You finally silenced your alarm, dragging yourself out of your warm duvet and shuffling toward your bathroom. Sleepily completing your morning routine, you got dressed for work and made your way downstairs. You usually neglected breakfast in favor of a small snack before lunch at the office and you smiled at the kitchen counter, seeing a small container of riceballs that Mrs. Lim had likely prepared for you. You could hear her puttering around in the far room, seemingly doing laundry.

You grabbed the container, slipping it into your tote bag, and began walking to the door, before startling at Yoongi’s voice coming from the top of the stairs.

“Y/N, wait a second,” he called, making his way down the stairs, “Want to go to work together?”

Your eyebrows raised at the suggestion, not even realizing he was still at home. Home? You supposed it was your home now. You weren’t sure when you had started to refer to it that way.

“Sure, but I usually take the bus,” you responded, watching him gather his things and approach you at the door.

“Oh,” Yoongi responded, slightly breathless, “That’s fine. I can take it with you.”

You thought for a moment, the Min Industries building was a block or so down from your own office, so you figured it should work out.

“Okay, then I’m ready whenever you are,” you mentioned. Yoongi nodded, slipping on his shoes, “Let’s go.”

The two of you made your way to the bus stop in a comfortable silence, enjoying the bustling scene of a morning in Seoul. When you both reached the bus stop, Yoongi spoke up, “Do you have any specific plans this week?”

You closed your eyes, racking your brain, “No, not really. But I’ll probably working a lot of overtime since I missed two weeks.”

“Oh,” Yoongi responded, “That’s unfortunate.”

You smiled, turning to face him, “I’ll find some time for us to hang out, promise.” You brushed a stray hair off his forehead, making his eyes widen and his head quickly turn away.

You giggled softly, apparently you still had it. It was kind of fun to flirt with him.

The bus soon arrived and you entered, scanning your card and making your way down the aisle before hearing the bus driver’s stern voice ring out.

“Sir, your transportation card?”

You turned to find Yoongi with a confused look on his face, seemingly at a loss at what the bus driver meant. The scene made you shake your head and smile, reaching over to scan your pass once again and bowing an apology to the bus driver. You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist, tugging him to one of the empty pairs of seats and gently guided him into the far one by the window.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I’ve never actually taken the bus before.” He scratched the back of his head, you could see his ears tinging red. You squeezed his wrist before letting go, “It’s alright, I’d figured as much. It’s kind of nice to have company on the morning commute.”

Yoongi sent a gummy smile your way making you exhale harshly, it felt like one of the first real smiles you’d seen of him and it was breathtaking. His hard edges and steely eyes softened, it was a sight you wanted to imprint on your mind. You distracted yourself by opening up your phone and scrolling through some recent texts, feeling Yoongi’s presence boring into your own.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi take one last glance at you before grasping your hand in his own and entangling your fingers. It caused you to look up at him but he was already turned, facing the window, fingers still tightly gripping your hand.

You felt the heat spread on your face but you settled into it anyway, enjoying the feeling of Yoongi’s palm against your own. The rest of the ride to your stop was largely silent, with you focused on the warmth emanating from Yoongi’s hand. You felt like a teenager with a crush. You were just holding hands! What was the big deal? Yet, it still felt like one.

The scenery caught your attention when a cafe you frequented flew by, signaling that your stop was next. Yoongi seemed caught in the view from the window so you drew his attention by tugging gently on his hand, still flush against yours. He looked over at you questioningly before you started rising out of your seat. The bus came to a slow stop and you gently pulled him to the door, scanning your card twice quickly and exiting with Yoongi close behind.

As the two of you stood on the sidewalk, you were unsure of where to go from here. Your office would be in the opposite direction from his, so it seemed that this was where you split ways. Yoongi didn’t seem to realize this as he began walking to his office, stopping when he felt the resistance from your hand, as you stood in place.

He turned, ears tinged pink, “Oh, right, OK is that way. I guess this is goodbye.”

You smiled, untangling your fingers from his, “See you at home, Yoongi.”

His mouth parted before breaking into a small smile, “See you.”

You turned quickly, feeling your cheeks warm, and started walking quickly to your building. All you did was ride the bus with him, yet it felt exhilarating, what was happening to you? You were supposed to be just friends right now, you couldn’t afford to fall this quickly.

Well, you supposed that nothing was really stopping you but yourself, but you still had your principle! You had to hold steadfast, you were the one who’d asked to start as friends first after all.

Feeling your phone buzz in your hands, you glanced down to catch Namjoon’s name in your notifications. You opened his message while navigating through the crowds on the sidewalk, fantasizing about the iced tea in the cafe in the lobby of your building.

From: Kim Namjoon

Good morning, Y/N-ssi! I managed to get tickets to that art gallery we were talking about, I stayed up almost all night, but it was worth it! I’ll send you the details when I’m more coherent, have a good day at work!

You smiled down at your phone, sending off a quick confirmation and well wishes for his sleep schedule. As you pushed open the doors to your office building, the cafe stationed off to the right felt like a beacon in the bustling morning office rush. The barista, Junmi, greeted you warmly as you approached the register, “Hi, unnie! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you on vacation?”

You shot her a conspiratorial wink, “Something like that.” She rung up your order, knowing it by heart by now, and held out her hand for your card. You handed it over while your eyes raked over the bakery display next to the counter, but you knew you already had the riceballs Mrs. Lim provided. No way you can justify another purchase, even if it was for the softest looking croissant in the world.

“Unnie,” Junmi exclaimed, startling you from your bread infused daze, “Your ring! Did you get married?”

“Oh,” you chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, I did.”

“Wow, congratulations! Here, have a croissant, on the house. That’s so exciting! You’ll have to show me pictures sometime,” she smiled, handing you back your card before turning away to prepare your drink.

As you walked past security gate toward the gate, awkwardly scanning your badge while balancing your breakfast, you took your first bite of the warm and flaky croissant. It seems like this marriage had more perks that you’d initially given it credit for.

Sitting down at your desk was a relief after navigating your curious and energetic team. You’d fielded questions about your marriage as much as you could, but you still ended up showing them a picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent you from the wedding. Your team had commented on how handsome he looked and how happy they were for you, and from there, the energy calmed down some, with some members returning to their seats.

The excitement had left you feeling conflicted, staring down at the picture of Yoongi that Joohee had sent. He looked handsome, definitely, his eyes were dark and piercing and his slightly tanned skin looked soft and smooth. You hadn’t realized how pinched together his eyebrows had been during the ceremony, or how bitten his lips looked. You swiped to the next picture in your messages with Joohee, seeing yourself and Yoongi during the reception. You both looked tired and miserable, making you frown at your phone. You kind of wished that you had a nice picture of you and Yoongi to show other people. Something to show when people like Junmi asked, one that made you look like a happy couple. You knew that Yeonsik had a stupidly cute picture of himself and his boyfriend as his phone’s lockscreen, and it made your stomach clench with envy.

Maybe you should bring it up to Yoongi?

No, it was much too soon, you shook your head, dismissing the thought.

Turning off your phone, you logged into your computer, seeing the number of unread emails rapidly increasing. You sighed, slipping on your headphones and starting some jazz so you could focus.

Combing through the mountain of emails was tiring, but one caught your attention, even as your eyes glazed over.

From: [email protected]

RE: Influencer Campaign MIRA’S AWAKENING

Hello Team Leader Seo,

We have decided to pursue Jeon Jeongguk (user/sns:goldenboy97) as one of the main influencers for MIRA’S AWAKENING’s campaign. We have been communicating with him about ideas for the campaign and decided upon the following:

Early access - stream upon release day

PR merchandise - we are confirming designs with Graphics 2

Vlog/tour of OK Gaming on August 25 - this will include a tour of Planning Team 1 office space. Please see attached for video appearance consent form for your team and have it submitted to me by the end of the week.

We will follow up with more information as we approach the filming date.

Thanks,

Team Leader Lim

You had to read the email twice before you fully understood the contents. Shaking your head with a smile, you forwarded the email to your team and grabbed your phone to text Jeongguk.

To: Jeon Jeongguk

Are you invading my office for your vlog channel?

The reply came almost instantly.

From: Jeon Jeongguk

morning, noona!

you finally got the news, huh?

i’m so excited, i can’t wait to see you working!

we should get lunch or dinner together that day!!

any preferences?

don’t tell hyung though

can i get your opinion on what i should wear, i don’t really go to offices often lol

You set your phone down as the buzzing continued, trying to contain your laughter. The kid was so exciteable, but his energy was contagious. You decided to respond to him later as you heard the quiet ding of more emails coming in. A sigh escaped you, you had promised Yoongi to find time to do something with him, but taking off two weeks so close to the launch date of your project and at the tail end of beta testing had taken its toll. It was clear that you’d be working overtime for the next few weeks.

Leaning your elbows against the desk and taking your head into your hands, you rubbed circles into the sides of your head. Thinking about everything you had to do was leading to a migraine and a quick look at the clock revealed that only about an hour had passed since you’d gotten to work. You felt your body sag in defeat, hearing the pings of more emails coming in.

Pressing your head against the cool feeling of your desk, you tried to distract your mind from the overwhelming mountain of work you had waiting for you. Naturally, your mind drifted toward the past weekend with Yoongi. You could still feel the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster weighing on your bones, but the uncertainty of what the future would look like with him felt like prinpicks against your fingers. This weekend had changed a lot for you, changes that you weren’t sure how to deal with.

Yoongi’s new attitude was also confusing, even though you fully knew his intentions now. The shift from trying to dismiss any ambiguous actions from him and steel yourself against any romantic feelings of your own to full transparency of his feelings toward you and your obligation to externally reciprocate was difficult to adjust to. You had been playing it by ear so far, going for a risky flirt whenever you felt cheeky, but it still felt unnatural.

It was hard to put it into words, but it felt like you were uncomfortable around Yoongi. Maybe you were still upset with him for what transpired with Jimin, after all, it was not too long ago, only a couple days really. Or maybe it was for what he said at the gala, the way he had dismissed you still irked, making you bite the inside of your cheek. Or perhaps when he’d been an hour late to your meeting before you’d gotten married, showing up with mussed hair, hickeys, and the heavy scent of a woman’s perfume.

You blew a short and aggressive breath out of your mouth, Yoongi had really been an ass. More than feeling upset with him, though, you felt more upset with yourself for caving so quickly. You supposed it wasn’t necessarily caving since you weren’t starting out as friends through your own insistence, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. Your feelings for Yoongi were annoyingly persistent and only getting stronger with his newfound feelings and confidence in them.

Why couldn’t you be stronger?

It felt a bit pathetic. You’d thought that you were doing so well in closing yourself off from him, shielding your heart from, not only from his attractive looks and seductive gaze, but from his biting remarks and harsh glares. As it turns out, not only did you still end up feeling hurt, but you only deeper for him despite your best efforts. Were you really even preventing anything that whole time? You bit your lip, squinting to make out emails through your blurry vision.

Were you in the palm of his hands since the beginning?

Did you ever stand a chance?

Was this relationship more unbalanced than you previously thought?

Your eyes closed in defeat, feeling your headache envelop the rest of your brain. You wished that you could level the playing field somehow.

The harsh blue undertoned light from your computer was aggravating your headache even more. To give your eyes a break, you took a look around your office space, seeing your teammates in similar condition to you.

The past couple weeks had been grueling, finalizing the post beta testing debugs, a last minute story adjustment, a heavy debate on the use of a mechanic your team was pushing to keep after some confusion in beta testing, and wrangling the graphics team to confirm and pack the shipment of merchandise had taken a heavy toll on your team’s morale and energy. This was always the worse part of development and production.

You’d barely seen your home since your return to work, spending over twelve hours at the office, catching the last bus home, scarfing down a mediocre, store bought kimbap, and crashing on your bed or the couch, whichever one you made it to in time.

You weren’t going to lie, you were a bit frustrated that you’d barely been able to spend any time with Yoongi in the past two weeks, but a part of you was relieved. Your emotional state still hadn’t fully recovered and you were relishing the opportunity to delay the inevitable as long as you could. Even so, waking up on the couch with a soft blanket thrown on you and your hair brushed away from your face made your heart ache. To his credit, he seemed to be an expert in tugging on your heart.

He was understanding, at the least. Even though you barely saw him, any time you did, he wore an empathetic expression and quietly handed you a can of your favorite fruit juice from the fridge with a small smile. Yoongi hadn’t had any complaints of your constant late nights and occupied weekends, which, in your defense, had been unavoidable and continual.

Today was no different, despite it being a Friday, your team was still working late into the night. A yawn off to your right, courtesy of Song Ha, drew you out of your drowsy trance. You blinked a few times, feeling the world coming back into focus, and glanced at the time. It was approaching nine and you could feel that nothing else productive was going to happen today. Wiping your sweaty palms on your leggings, you stood, “Okay, everyone. Let’s go home for today, we’ve done all we can. I want you all to enjoy your weekend this time, so don’t check any emails. If it’s really important, I’ll call you. Go get some rest and be ready to kick ass on Monday.”

Your team stared up at you gratefully, seemingly rejuvenated. The packing up was quick and efficient, everyone more than ready to get out of the stuffy and dreary office. As you were packing up your own belongings, your phone buzzed with a message.

From: Kim Namjoon

Hi! I hope you’re doing well. I know your game is coming out soon so you must be busy, hopefully you’re getting enough rest!

Just a question about next Friday, would you like to head over to the gallery together? I can pick you up. Let me know when you can!

Oh, that’s right, the gallery that you were supposed to go to with Namjoon was coming up in a week. You had forgotten in the chaos of work, but you resigned to text him back later. Getting home was your top priority. Though, now that you were thinking about you, you had a nagging feeling that you’d forgotten something else.

You bent down in front of your desk to log out of your computer, catching a flagged email a bit further down in your inbox, referencing the filming day that was involving your team. Your fingers snapped automatically, that’s what it was! You’d totally forgotten about Jeongguk coming to film the behind the scenes and doing a segment with your team. Rapping your desk to catch your team’s attention, you quickly reminded them.

“Just a reminder, this upcoming Tuesday, we have the filming team coming in here with Jeon Jeongguk. I think all of you signed the consent form, so you can all come to work as normal, but just be prepared that they’ll be there. You’ll have a couple cameras around and they may pull you aside for some questions, but that should be about it. Have a good weekend, guys.”

A chorus of goodbyes and well wishes rang out from your team, followed by idle chatter as they made their way to the elevator. You sat back for a minute, deciding whether you should text Yoongi to say you were coming home early or not. Was this early? It was almost nine, but it was relatively early to when you had been coming home.

Whatever, you’d just go home. No point in texting when you’d be there in about twenty minutes anyway, what would texting change?

You hauled yourself to the bus stop, feeling the heaviness of the day weigh down your bones. You’d given your team the weekend off, but the same couldn’t be said for you. You knew plenty of managers in the corporate world who could leisurely take time off work and the productiveness of their team wouldn’t change, but your team was, unfortunately, not the same. Your weekend would consist of monitoring your email for anything urgent coming in and making sure other teams were on track for the upcoming release, but at least you’d get a bit of a break. It was a bit like being on call, but you didn’t want to think about it that way, it’d make the unpaid overtime a bit too real.

The sound of the bus approaching made you jolt to attention, stopping for a moment to close your eyes and stop your head from spinning. You had forgotten to pick up dinner, but you’d make do. There must be something in the fridge, and if there wasn’t, you’d make for some emergency fried chicken delivery.

The bus ride home was peaceful, to your extreme delight. Late Friday night bus rides ran the risks of drunk and rowdy businessmen, energetic and loud college students, and excitable high schoolers. Thankfully, the bus was quiet and serene, soon stopping near your apartment. The trek up to the building felt more taxing than usual, dragging your feet along the pavement until you reached the elevator. The cool feeling of the elevator walls against your forehead felt refreshing, at least, but you internally groaned when the doors slid open and you had to move your feet once again.

The click of the door to the apartment unlocking felt like an angel’s voice, and you entered the apartment only to be met with five faces staring back at you. Your eyes immediately found Yoongi’s, staring at you, a bit surprised, but he sent you a smile. You returned it weakly before trailing your eyes over everyone else, finding Namjoon and Seokjin on the couch and Jeongguk and Taehyung seated on the floor around the coffee table, seemingly playing some low stakes poker.

How could you forget that Yoongi has his friends over on Friday nights? The gaps in your memory were starting to grow concerning.

You gave a half wave before awkwardly closing the door behind you. What did you even look like right now? Your team had given up on any sort of professional appearance once the overtime had started and your team routinely showed up in sweatshirts, sweatpants, leggings, or pajamas at this point. If someone was wearing the same clothes as the previous day, everyone else turned a blind eye. You were sure that your hair was a ratty mess atop your head and your overly loose sweatshirt was drowning you in fabric, likely making you look like a kid playing dress up. Your concerns over your appearance dissipated when you felt a body slam against yours in a hug, arms enveloping your waist.

“Noona! Did you get back from the office just now? You’re working too late,” Jeongguk exclaimed, squeezing you before releasing his hold.

You laughed slightly, “Yeah, things are busy since the game’s coming out in about a month, and since you get early access, we have to work even harder.”

Your joke made Jeongguk frown slightly, “Maybe I’ll catch some labor law violations in the vlog and you can win big in a lawsuit.”

You chuckled, patting his shoulder, “I’ll file after I get my new year bonus.”

You began taking off your shoes, having to face the rest of the group, who all gave you warm smiles, Taehyung and Namjoon both sending you a friendly wave. Seokjin sent a stern glare in your direction, facing his vitriol on the oversized young man behind you, “Yah, Jeongguk, leave her alone, she only just got back. What vlog are you talking about anyway?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Jeongguk beat you to it, slinging his arms around you, a bit like a sloth hanging onto a tree, you noted.

“I get to hang out with noona all day on Tuesday since I’m filming a behind the scenes vlog for my second channel,” he responded, letting you go when Taehyung beckoned him over with the promise of a dangling chicken drumstick.

Right, food. The chicken on the coffee table looked far too appetizing, but it felt rude of you to intrude so you tried to casually look away from it.

“I didn’t know about that,” came Yoongi’s voice for the first time since you’d stepped into the apartment. It drew your gaze immediately, seeing a small frown on his face and furrowed eyebrows. Was he upset that you hadn’t told him? You suppose Jeongguk was his friend first.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve been so busy with work, I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you too much,” you said, trying to convey your guilt.

Yoongi shook his head, “Not your fault, you’d think that this brat,” he flicked Jeongguk’s forehead, who protested through a mouth full of chicken, “Would tell me that he was spending the day with my wife at work.”

Your chest bloomed at his choice of words, you’d rarely heard him refer to you as his wife, only at the reception of your wedding when talking to guests. Somehow, him using it now in such an intimate setting made your marriage feel all the more real.

“Speaking of,” Seokjin interjected, “Isn’t your one month anniversary coming up? Are you guys doing anything fun?”

You and Yoongi both looked at each other, a bit at a loss for words. You hadn’t even thought about that, had it really already been almost a month? Somehow, it felt simultaneously shorter and much, much longer than that. You felt like you’d already spent a lifetime with Yoongi, but it’d barely been four weeks.

“I believe that’s on the same day as the gallery,” Namjoon said casually, snatching a small piece of chicken from Jeongguk’s clutches.

“Gallery,” Yoongi questioned.

“Oh, Namjoon and I are going to a gallery for an artist he introduced me to, we’d talked about when we met at that gallery a few weeks back,” you explained, trying to focus on the conversation and not how good the chicken looked.

Yoongi seemed to be pondering his response when Namjoon caught your gaze on the food.

“Have you eaten yet, Y/N,” he questioned.

You shook your head softly, a bit embarrassed that you were found out so quickly.

“Join us,” Seokjin said, snatching the rest of the box from Jeongguk who pouted sadly, “You can have the rest of what’s in here and we can order more too.”

“No, you guys should eat that, it’s yours,” you insisted, feeling slightly childish with Seokjin’s suggestion.

“Jeonggukie ate most of it anyway, so we were going to need more,” Seokjin said, waving away your concerns, “We really need to start ordering multiple portions for him so he doesn’t eat all of it.”

You laughed and started toward the couch to join them, but took a quick glance at Yoongi’s expression to see if he was okay with it. The scene felt oddly familiar to you, reminding you of the last time you were invited to sit with them and you felt compelled to refuse.

Yoongi’s face looked unreadable, just like then too, but he seemed to be more deep in thought this time. He caught your gaze and smiled, though, nodding for you to join them. You gave a sheepish smile in response, making your way to the couch and sitting next to Namjoon, who had moved closer to the middle to make room for you.

“Thanks, it’s been a long day,” you said, leaning into the soft cushions of the couch. You were going to have to be careful not to fall asleep, you were so used to collapsing onto this same couch after work.

The food quickly arrived and the men continued to engage in conversation, making sure to include you, but you felt yourself getting drowsy. It seemed you had reached your limit when you felt your head bump into Namjoon’s shoulder in a sleep induced sway. You lifted yourself upright, blinking sleepily up at him, making out his soft smile, “Sorry, Namjoon-ah. I’m a bit tired.” You could hear yourself slurring your words.

“No worries, Y/N, maybe we should get you to bed,” he responded, steading you again with a firm hand on your shoulder.

If you had felt like a child earlier, you most certainly felt more like one now.

You felt Namjoon’s hands grasp your shoulders, gently lifting you to a standing position before a new pair of hands took over.

“I’ll take her upstairs, Joon, can you make sure Seokjin doesn’t spill anything while I’m gone,” you heard Yoongi’s voice ask. Your eyes were barely open and your mind felt quite cloudy in your drowsy haze. Looking up at Yoongi, you caught his pensive expression before he looked down at you, sending you a small smile. He gently squeezed your shoulders and slowly led you up the stairs and to your room, you could distantly hear Jeongguk calling out a goodnight.

You were barely conscious for the walk to your bedroom, feeling yourself lean against Yoongi for support. He patiently guided you, opening the door to your room and laying you down on your bed. Why did this feel familiar too?

Yoongi’s fingers brushed a few stray pieces of hair out of your face, you could feel the rough pads of his fingertips against your forehead. Almost asleep now, you barely registered yourself leaning into his touch as he brought his fingers around your face to cup your cheek.

“Will you be okay sleeping in those clothes? Any makeup you have to wipe off,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

“No,” you mumbled, “I’m fine. Wanna sleep now. Goodnight, Yoongi-ah.”

You felt his thumb freeze its motions before he whispered back, “Goodnight, Y/N-ie. Sleep well.”

You were already asleep by the time he closed your bedroom door.

Yoongi felt conflicted over his newly realized feelings for you. In a way, it was freeing, being able to act affectionately with you without any ambiguity or restriction. Well, there were still some restrictions and maybe some ambiguity too. You were starting as friends, and Yoongi did think that was a good idea, he really did, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t dying to go further with you.

His hands constantly itched to take yours and his eyes were always drawn to your soft and gentle smile. You had been smiling a bit more since that fateful weekend, and Yoongi was enjoying every second of it.

Though, there weren’t really that many seconds of it to enjoy, considering your hectic schedule since your date. You’d been cooped up at your office pretty much every evening, a feeling Yoongi was familiar with, so he couldn’t fault you. Every time he managed to catch a rare glimpse of you in the house, you were either sleeping on the couch, or tiredly eating at the table. Despite your haggard appearance and exhausted demeanor, you’d always managed to smile a greeting at him and apologize for being so busy.

Yoongi couldn’t find it in himself to be upset at your absence. Even though he was aching to be close to you and spend more with you, he knew your work was important and busy right now. Yoongi had to be patient, something he was not excited for. Your skin always looked too inviting, your lips too soft, and your eyes too alluring. He constantly had to reign in his wandering thoughts about you, even having to do a bit of overtime himself to make up for his distracted nature the past few weeks.

Despite his growing attraction to you, whenever he laid eyes on your messy appearance with considerable eyebags adorning your sweet face, your lips forming a tired pout, in the multiple times he’d caught you sleeping on the couch when he went downstairs to check if you’d returned, his thoughts dissipated. You were clearly working yourself to the bone and Yoongi knew he couldn’t stop you, he’d been in your position multiple times. Sometimes, there was no other way around it. So he did what he could, a blanket covering your sleeping form, a small snack or candy slipped into your bag, or an extra serving of dinner waiting for you in the microwave, this was how Yoongi knew to show his love.

Love? Was it?

No, he didn’t think so. At least not yet. It was too early on to tell if he loved you, but he could feel himself starting down that path. He only wished that he could be in an actual relationship with you, though he knew why he couldn’t. His friends knew about the arrangement, he’d confided in Seokjin and Namjoon, but he hadn’t revealed his growing feelings for you, only that you’d decided to become friends.

Maybe that had been a mistake, considering how close they seemed to be getting to you. Yoongi recalled how his friends had jumped at your presence when you’d entered the apartment. As he climbed into bed, he remembered how Jeongguk had stood excitedly at your arrival and immediately crushed you in an intimate hug. Had Yoongi hugged you before? He couldn’t remember, but it was all he could think about now. Jeongguk had mentioned that he’d be spending the day with you at work on Tuesday, Yoongi had never seen you in your office either. Suddenly, that single walk to work together all those days ago felt minimal compared to what Jeongguk was going to get to experience.

You seemed to have grown close with Namjoon as well, Yoongi thought, remembering the way that Namjoon had smiled invitingly at you and the way you’d sat next him, bumping your head against his shoulder in your attempt to sleep. What was that? Yoongi felt restless, maybe he should’ve clarified his feelings to his friends so they’d know you were off limits.

Except, you weren’t. Yoongi knew that. He had no claim over you, he wasn’t your boyfriend, only your designated husband. Yoongi’s mind wandered back to the interactions between you and Namjoon, racing to analyze every interaction, despite his acceptance that it wasn’t his place.

You seemed so comfortable with Namjoon, you’d even called his name so affectionately. Well, you’d said Yoongi’s name affectionately too, he gloated internally. That had been a sweet moment that he was going to treasure, you had been so placid and vulnerable, a side to you he hadn’t seen before. It had been hard to contain himself since he’d brought you to your room, feeling you lean against him and into his hand, he’d wanted to kiss you.

But he knew better, he had to wait. Yoongi tried not to think about what would happen if you decided you only wanted to be friends with him and nothing more. He had already fallen so deeply for you. It was unexpected for him to fall so quickly and so hard, surprising even himself. You’d managed to wedge your way into his heart, making him uncomfortable, only to set up shop there and grow his fondness toward you.

Yoongi’s mind drifted back to the earlier conversation, when Seokjin had mentioned your one month anniversary. Should he be planning something? He wasn’t sure. To be honest, he didn’t really want to celebrate your wedding day, it felt like it was yours. It was more for other people than anything. Not to mention, he didn’t want to call attention back to when he’d been acting so crassly. Yoongi cringed at the memory.

Besides, Namjoon had mentioned that you two were going to a gallery that day. Yoongi was only slightly jealous, or that was what he was telling himself. Why did you have to have so much in common with his friends and be so personable? His envy grew at the fact that Namjoon would be spending so much time with you on your wedding anniversary, despite Yoongi’s earlier dismissal of it. How was it fair that the man you were spending your anniversary with wasn’t your husband, but his friend?

Maybe he should plan something for that day for when you come back from the gallery. The idea made him smile. He wanted to make it a special day for you, and with newfound determination to show up Namjoon, he would.

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