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jupiterpilgrim · 4 months ago

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Silent Night, Whispered Secrets

Christmas Special 🎄

Yunjin x Male Reader

word count: 4.5K words

The office is eerily quiet on Christmas Eve, with only the soft hum of your computer and occasional clicking of the keyboard breaking the silence. Most of your coworkers left hours ago to start their holiday celebrations, but you're still here finishing up year-end reports. The only other person crazy enough to still be working is Yunjin, whose office is just down the hall from yours.

You've known Yunjin for the two years you've worked at the company. She started a few months before you and helped show you the ropes when you first joined. You hit it off right away, drawn to her quick wit and infectious laugh. She's the kind of person who can find humor in even the most mundane office situations, making even boring meetings more bearable with her subtle eye rolls and whispered commentary.

Physically, Yunjin is absolutely your type, though you've tried not to think about her that way given your professional relationship. She has a classic beauty about her, with delicate features framed by stylish glasses that give her a sexy librarian vibe. Her lips are full and naturally pouty, the kind that make you wonder what they'd feel like pressed against yours. She typically dresses conservatively for the office in blazers and pencil skirts, but you can tell she has a slim, petite figure with small breasts that suit her frame perfectly.

The sound of heels clicking on the tile floor pulls you from your thoughts. Looking up, you see Yunjin leaning against your doorframe, her jacket discarded and the top button of her white blouse undone.

"Still at it?" she asks with a sympathetic smile. "You know Santa won't come if you're still awake doing spreadsheets."

You can't help but chuckle. "Pretty sure Santa skips over office buildings anyway. What's your excuse for still being here?"

"Same as you probably - trying to get everything wrapped up before the holiday break." She walks into your office and perches on the edge of your desk, something she's done countless times during your friendly chats. "But I'm officially taking a break and you should too. We've been at this for hours."

The familiar scent of her perfume - something light and floral - wafts over as she settles next to you. You realize she's right about needing a break; your eyes are starting to blur from staring at the screen.

"Yeah, you're probably right," you concede, leaning back in your chair. "Most of this can wait until after Christmas anyway."

"Exactly! Speaking of Christmas..." She swivels to face you more directly, crossing her legs. "What are your plans? Big family gathering?"

"Pretty much the usual - heading to my parents' place tomorrow morning. Mom always goes overboard with the decorations and Dad pretends to complain about it while secretly loving every minute." You smile thinking about your family's traditions. "What about you?"

"Similar, minus the over-the-top decorations. Though my mom does make enough food to feed a small army." She pauses, seeming to consider something before asking, "Will your girlfriend be joining you?"

The question catches you off guard. In all your conversations, she's never directly asked about your relationship status before. "No girlfriend to bring along," you answer honestly. "Flying solo this holiday season."

"Really?" Her eyebrows raise slightly above her glasses frames. "I find that hard to believe. A guy like you, single at Christmas?"

There's something different in her tone now, a slight flirtatiousness that makes your pulse quicken. "What do you mean a guy like me?" you ask, playing along.

She adjusts her glasses in that adorable way she does when she's about to say something bold. "Oh, you know... Smart, funny, easy on the eyes." Her lips curve into a playful smile. "The kind of guy who probably has women fighting over who gets to kiss him under the mistletoe."

Your mouth goes dry as you process this shift in dynamic. Is Yunjin actually flirting with you? After two years of carefully maintained friendship?

"Funny, I was just thinking the same about you," you reply, testing the waters. "Surprised you don't have a line of guys waiting to take you home for the holidays."

She laughs softly, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Maybe I'm waiting for the right guy to ask." Her eyes meet yours with unmistakable intent now. "Someone who already knows me... understands me..."

The air between you feels charged with possibility. You've imagined moments like this before but always pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to complicate your friendship or work relationship. But now, with her looking at you like that...

"Yunjin..." you start, not quite sure what you're going to say.

She slides off your desk and extends her hand to you. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

You don't hesitate for a second, turning off the computer and getting up from your chair. Your heart pounds as you take her hand, letting her lead you out of your office and down the darkened hallway. Her fingers are soft and warm interlaced with yours. She guides you past the break room and copy area to a section of the building you rarely visit.

"Where are we going?" you ask, though you're happy to follow her anywhere at this point.

"Somewhere private," she answers mysteriously. "Where we can talk without worrying about security cameras."

She leads you into what appears to be a storage room, flicking on a small lamp that casts a warm glow over boxes of office supplies and forgotten furniture. It's cozy in an odd way, like a secret hideaway.

Yunjin turns to face you, still holding your hand. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and you can see her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

"I need to tell you something," she says. "Something I've wanted to say for a long time but never had the courage."

You squeeze her hand encouragingly, heart racing with anticipation.

"I have feelings for you," she continues. "Real feelings, beyond friendship. I think I have for a while now but I was afraid to admit it, afraid of ruining what we have. But being here tonight, just the two of us... I couldn't keep pretending anymore."

The confession hangs in the air between you for a moment before you respond. "Yunjin, I had no idea you felt that way. I mean, I've definitely thought about you like that but I always told myself it was just a crush, that it would pass..."

"And did it? Pass?" she asks softly.

You shake your head. "No. If anything, it got stronger the more I got to know you. You're amazing, Yunjin. Smart and funny and beautiful... I love how you can make me laugh even on the worst days. How you always remember little details about things I've told you. How passionate you get when talking about things you care about..."

She steps closer, reaching up to touch your face. "We've been through a lot together, haven't we? All those late nights working on projects, lunch breaks spent venting about difficult clients, celebrating each other's wins..."

"Yeah," you agree, letting your free hand rest on her waist. "I guess it's natural that feelings would develop. We just... fit."

"We do," she whispers, then rises on her tiptoes to press her lips to yours.

The kiss is gentle at first, tentative, as if you're both still afraid of crossing this line. But then she sighs against your mouth and something ignites between you. Your arms wrap around her waist as hers circle your neck, pulling each other closer as the kiss deepens.

Her lips are even softer than you imagined, moving against yours with growing passion. You can taste mint on her breath, like she'd been preparing for this possibility. The thought makes you smile against her mouth.

"What?" she asks, pulling back slightly.

"Nothing," you murmur, trailing kisses along her jaw. "Just happy."

She tilts her head to give you better access to her neck, letting out a small moan when you find a sensitive spot. "Mmm... want to know what would make me happy?"

"Tell me," you breathe against her skin.

"Letting me give you your Christmas present." Her hands slide down your chest as she speaks.

You pull back to look at her, seeing desire burning in her eyes behind those sexy glasses. "What kind of present?"

Instead of answering, she starts unbuttoning her blouse, revealing smooth pale skin and a simple white bra underneath. Your breath catches as she reaches behind to unhook it, letting the garment fall away.

You can't take your eyes off Yunjin's exposed chest as she straddles your lap in the dimly lit storage room. Her breasts are small, almost flat against her slim frame, but they're absolutely perfect to you. Each one is barely a handful, topped with delicate pink nipples that have hardened in the cool air. The sight makes your mouth water with desire.

"I know they're not much to look at," she says shyly, noticing your intense gaze. "Most guys prefer bigger..."

You silence her self-consciousness by cupping both small mounds in your hands, feeling their subtle weight. "These are exactly what I want," you tell her firmly. "Perfect little tits that fit my hands just right."

She shivers as you run your thumbs over her nipples, watching them stiffen further under your touch. The rosy buds stand out proudly now, begging to be sucked. You lean forward slowly, maintaining eye contact as you take one peak between your lips.

"Ohhh..." Yunjin moans softly as you begin to suckle her breast. Her fingers thread through your hair, holding you against her chest as you worship her sensitive flesh.

You alternate between gentle suction and firm licks, paying attention to how she responds. When you graze your teeth lightly across her nipple, her whole body trembles and she lets out a gasp. You do it again, a bit firmer this time, and are rewarded with a breathy "Yes..."

Your hands knead her small breasts as you continue lavishing attention on her nipples. Despite their size, or perhaps because of it, they seem incredibly sensitive. Every touch, every lick, every gentle bite makes her squirm and moan in your lap.

You pull back slightly to admire your work - her nipples are now swollen and deep pink from your ministrations. "So responsive," you murmur, blowing cool air across the wet peaks and watching them tighten further. "I love how sensitive these little tits are."

"Only for you," she whimpers as you dive back in, this time taking as much of her small breast into your mouth as possible. There's something incredibly arousing about being able to almost fit the entire mound between your lips.

You suck firmly while massaging her other breast, feeling her nipple press hard against your palm. Her hips begin to rock subtly in your lap as her arousal builds. The movement makes your already hard cock throb with need, but you're determined to thoroughly worship these perfect little tits first.

Moving to her neglected breast, you trace circles around the areola with your tongue before capturing the straining nipple between your teeth. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as you apply just enough pressure to toe the line between pleasure and pain.

"Oh god," she pants, grinding more insistently against you now. "That feels so good... I never knew my breasts could be this sensitive..."

You hum against her flesh, the vibrations making her shudder. Your hands slide around to grip her ass, helping guide her movements as she rocks in your lap. Each roll of her hips makes her small breasts sway slightly, a hypnotic sight that has you alternating between watching and tasting.

"Such perfect little tits," you murmur between licks and kisses. "Love how they bounce... love how responsive they are... love how they fit in my mouth just right..."

Your praise seems to turn her on even more. She arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against your face as you continue your oral assault on her sensitive peaks. Her breathing becomes more ragged with each passing minute.

You bring your hands back to her breasts, squeezing them together so you can move back and forth between nipples more easily. The sight of her small mounds pressed together, topped with those pretty pink nipples, is incredibly erotic. You lap at both peaks simultaneously, making her cry out.

"Please," she whimpers, though you're not sure what she's begging for. You respond by sucking harder, drawing one taut nipple deep into your mouth while pinching and rolling the other between your fingers.

Her whole body is trembling now as you continue your relentless attention. You can feel how wet she is through her panties as she grinds against your lap, seeking friction. The combination of your mouth on her sensitive breasts and the pressure against her clit seems to be driving her wild.

"I think..." she gasps, clutching your head tighter. "I think I might... from just this..."

The revelation that she might cum just from breast play spurs you on. You double your efforts, sucking and licking and nibbling at her swollen nipples while your hands massage the soft flesh of her small breasts. Her movements become more erratic as she chases her pleasure.

"That's it," you encourage between sucks. "Let go for me... show me how sensitive these perfect little tits are..."

With a sharp cry, she does just that. Her body goes rigid in your lap as waves of pleasure wash over her, triggered by nothing more than your mouth on her breasts. You continue gently sucking and licking through her orgasm, prolonging the sensation until she weakly pushes your head away, too sensitive to take any more.

"I've never..." she pants, looking down at you with wide eyes. "That's never happened before..."

You press soft kisses to her flushed chest, admiring how her nipples are now deep red and slightly swollen from your attention. "Just proves what I said - these are perfect."

With a smile Yunjin slides down your body with a hungry look in her eyes, her delicate fingers work at your belt buckle as she settles between your legs, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Now I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel," she purrs, finally freeing your throbbing cock from its confines. Her eyes widen slightly at the sight. "So big..." she whispers, wrapping her small hand around your shaft.

You groan at the first contact, already rock hard from getting her off with just breast play earlier. She starts with slow, exploratory strokes, learning the feel of you. Her other hand cups your balls gently, rolling them between her fingers as she studies your reactions.

"Tell me if it's good, okay?" she asks softly, her hot breath ghosting over your tip. "I want this to be the best you've ever had."

Before you can respond, she leans forward and drags her tongue from base to tip in one long, slow lick. Your cock twitches in her grip as she swirls her tongue around the head, gathering the bead of precum that's formed there.

"Mmm," she hums, savoring the taste. "Already so excited for me..."

She continues teasing you with her tongue, tracing the prominent veins along your shaft and paying special attention to the sensitive spot just under the head. Her hand keeps up a steady stroking motion, spreading her saliva along your length.

When she finally takes you into her mouth, you have to fight not to thrust up into that wet heat. She starts shallow, just sucking on the tip while her tongue works against the underside. Her eyes flutter closed as she focuses on the task, clearly enjoying herself.

"Fuck, that feels good," you groan as she gradually takes more of you in. Her mouth is so hot and wet, and the suction is perfect. She hums in acknowledgment, the vibrations sending pleasure shooting through your cock.

One hand wraps around what doesn't fit in her mouth yet, working in tandem with her lips and tongue. The other continues massaging your balls, occasionally trailing lower to tease your perineum. The dual stimulation has your toes curling.

She pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "I love how hard you are," she says, pumping you with both hands now. "Love feeling you throb in my mouth..."

Before you can respond, she's diving back down, taking you even deeper this time. Her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft as she bobs her head, building a steady rhythm. The wet sounds of her sucking fill the room, obscenely erotic.

You thread your fingers through her hair, not guiding her movements but just wanting to touch her. She moans around your cock in response, the vibrations making you groan. Her pace picks up slightly, switching between deep sucks and focusing on the sensitive head.

"Just like that," you encourage as she finds a particularly good rhythm. "Your mouth feels fucking amazing."

She pulls back again, this time to focus solely on your tip while her hands work your shaft. Her tongue swirls around the head before flicking rapidly against the frenulum, making your hips jerk. "Want to taste every inch of you," she murmurs before taking you deep again.

This time she doesn't stop until you hit the back of her throat. She holds there for a moment, swallowing around you, before pulling back for air. Strings of saliva connect her lips to your cock as she gasps.

"So fucking hot," you groan, watching her catch her breath. Your cock twitches in her grip, achingly hard from her skilled attention.

She smiles up at you before diving back in, this time maintaining eye contact as she works you over. The sight of her pretty lips stretched around your girth while she stares up at you with lust-filled eyes is almost too much.

Her technique varies between long, slow sucks taking you as deep as she can manage, and focusing on the tip with quick flicks of her tongue. She seems to delight in finding what makes you moan loudest, repeating movements that get the biggest reactions.

"Getting close?" she asks during another brief break, her hand never stopping its stroking motion. When you nod, she smiles. "Good. I want to taste your cum... want to swallow every drop..."

The dirty talk combined with her renewed oral assault has you right on the edge. She seems to sense this, doubling her efforts. One hand pumps your shaft while the other gently squeezes your balls. Her mouth focuses on your sensitive head, sucking firmly while her tongue works the underside.

"Fuck, I'm about to cum!" you growl, staring down at Yunjin's face as she works your throbbing cock with her skilled mouth. Her designer glasses are slightly fogged up from her heavy breathing, adding an irresistibly naughty librarian vibe to her cock-hungry expression. Those plump, glistening lips stretch obscenely wide around your thick shaft as she bobs her head with expert precision.

Rather than slow down at your warning, she doubles her efforts - taking you even deeper into her hot, eager mouth. Her full, pouty lips form a perfect seal around your cock as she sucks harder, her tongue dancing and swirling along your sensitive length. Drool runs down your balls as she services you with single-minded determination, the wet sloppy sounds of her enthusiastic sucking filling the room.

You reach down to tangle your fingers in her silky hair, accidentally knocking her glasses slightly askew. She doesn't miss a beat, continuing to worship your cock while reaching up to adjust them with one hand. The intellectual look of her wire-rimmed frames contrasts deliciously with the absolutely filthy things she's doing with that talented mouth.

Her crimson lipstick is completely ruined now, smeared all over your cock in scarlet streaks. The sight of those perfect dick-sucking lips wrapped around you, combined with her sultry gaze behind those sexy glasses, has your balls drawing up tight. She must sense how close you are because she takes you impossibly deeper, until you feel the back of her throat squeezing your sensitive cockhead.

Her nose presses against your pelvis as she deep-throats you with practiced ease, her glasses fogging up even more from her heavy breathing. The rippling sensation of her throat muscles working around your length finally pushes you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck!" you roar as your orgasm hits like a freight train. Your cock pulses violently, shooting thick ropes of hot cum directly down her eager throat. She moans in satisfaction around your spurting length, continuing to suck and swallow rhythmically as you empty yourself into her hungry mouth. Not a single drop escapes those perfect cock-hungry lips.

Even after you're completely drained, she keeps gently nursing on your sensitive head, her tongue lapping up every last trace of cum. Only when you're trembling from overstimulation does she finally release you with an obscene pop. Your cock emerges glistening with her saliva, still twitching occasionally.

She looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes behind her slightly steamed glasses, licking those full, swollen lips with obvious satisfaction. A thin strand of saliva and cum still connects her mouth to your cock. "Mmm, fucking delicious," she purrs, her voice slightly hoarse from taking you so deep. She gives your softening length one final kiss before sitting back on her heels.

Your legs feel weak as you watch her run her tongue over her lips again, savoring your taste. Her ruined lipstick smeared across her mouth and chin. Combined with her messy hair, fogged glasses, and the hungry look in her eyes, she's the perfect picture of debauchery.

"That was incredible," you manage to say once you catch your breath. She just grins wickedly, clearly proud of her cock-sucking skills. And rightfully so - you've never had your dick sucked with such enthusiasm and expertise before.

"I love the way you taste," she says, running one finger along her bottom lip while pushing her glasses back up her nose. "And the way your big cock feels stretching my mouth open. Makes me so fucking horny." To emphasize her point, she brings both hands up to her small breasts, squeezing them firmly through her top.

The sight of her playing with herself while looking at you with those intelligent eyes behind her frames makes your spent cock twitch with renewed interest. She notices and laughs, her hands still kneading her chest. "Already wanting more? Such a greedy boy." She leans forward to plant soft kisses along your shaft, which is already starting to harden again.

"Can't help it when you've got such perfect dick-sucking lips," you tell her, running your thumb across her plump bottom lip. She captures the digit between her teeth, sucking it into her mouth with a sultry look. The combination of her hot tongue swirling around your thumb and her glasses sliding down her nose again makes your cock throb.

"These lips were made for worshipping cock," she agrees after releasing your thumb with a wet pop. "Especially yours. I love how thick you are - really makes me work for it." She emphasizes her point by wrapping those gorgeous lips around just your sensitive head, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact through her slightly fogged lenses.

You groan at the sight and sensation. "Fuck, you really are insatiable aren't you?" Your hand finds its way back into her hair, careful not to knock her glasses off this time as you guide her movements. She starts taking more of your rapidly hardening length into her mouth again.

She pulls off just long enough to say "When it comes to sucking your cock? Absolutely." Then she's diving back down, taking you to the root in one smooth motion that has you seeing stars. Her throat contracts around you as she swallows, making you gasp.

Your grip in her hair tightens as she starts bobbing her head with renewed vigor. The wet sounds of her enthusiastic cock-sucking fill the room once again. She alternates between taking you deep in her throat and focusing on your sensitive head, her talented tongue doing incredible things that have you moaning.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise her, making her moan around your length. Her glasses fog up completely as she works your cock faster. "Love watching those pretty lips stretch around my thick cock. You were born to suck dick, weren't you?"

She responds by taking you even deeper, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis again. The feeling of her throat squeezing around your cock while she looks up at you with those big, eager eyes behind her steamed-up lenses is almost too much to handle.

"That's it, take it all like a good girl," you growl, using your grip on her hair to hold her in place for a moment. She moans and squirms, clearly loving being used like this. When you finally let her pull back for air, she gasps and immediately dives back down for more, quickly adjusting her glasses before wrapping those perfect lips around you again.

Her enthusiasm is infectious. You start thrusting your hips slightly, fucking her willing mouth while she moans encouragement. The sight of your cock disappearing between those perfect cock-sucking lips over and over, combined with her sexy librarian look, has you racing toward another orgasm embarrassingly quickly.

"Gonna cum again," you warn her through gritted teeth. She responds by sucking even harder, her cheeks hollowing as she works to draw out your load. Her tongue does wicked things to your sensitive head while one hand massages your heavy balls.

This time when you explode, she pulls back just enough to catch your cum on her tongue. You watch in awe as rope after rope of hot cum paints those gorgeous lips and fills her eager mouth. Some of it lands on her glasses, making her look even more debauched. She makes a show of swallowing it all down before licking her lips clean with a satisfied smile.

"Mmm, even better the second time," she purrs, giving your sensitive cock one final kiss. Her lips and chin are glazed with a mixture of cum and saliva, her lipstick completely destroyed, and her glasses are splattered with your seed. "Well, what did you think of my blowjob? Think that lived up to being the best you've ever had?"

"Fuck yes. Your lips, your mouth, your tongue, those fucking glasses... You're perfect, Yunjin.”

Still on her knees, she reaches for the open cardboard box nearby. It’s crammed with small packs of wet wipes. She plucks one out, tearing it open with her teeth before pulling a single wipe free. As she starts cleaning her glasses, she laughs softly. “These glasses? Expensive as hell,” she says, wiping the lenses with a casual ease. “But having you cum all over me while wearing them? Fucking worth it.”

Her words make you shudder slightly, your breath catching as you watch her throw away the last used wipe, her face and glasses less messy now. She smirks, using her thumb to rub at the the forgotten bit of smeared lipstick.

When Yunjin finishes, she sighs, looking at you with those big lovely eyes. "Did you like your present?" she asks softly.

You pull her closer, crushing your mouth to hers, tasting yourself on her tongue but too far gone to care. “Best Christmas present ever,” you murmur against her lips, your hands finding her hips, pulling her impossibly closer as she melts into you.

"Merry Christmas then," she says with a playful wink, wiping her mouth delicately.

"To be honest, I've never liked Christmas as much as I do now," you tell her when your lips move away.

She laughs softly, tucking her head against your neck. "Just wait until you see what I have planned for New Year's."

You hold her close, both of you catching your breath as the reality of what just happened settles in. Outside the windows, snow has begun to fall, dusting the city in white. It's still Christmas Eve, you still have family obligations tomorrow, but right now none of that matters. All that matters is this moment, this woman in your arms, and the promise of more to come.

"We should probably head home soon," Yunjin says eventually, though she makes no move to get up. "It is Christmas Eve after all."

You press a kiss to her temple. "Five more minutes," you bargain, and feel her smile against your skin.

"Five more minutes," she agrees.

You sit there together in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall outside while your racing hearts slow to normal. Whatever happens next, you know this Christmas will be one to remember. And as Yunjin snuggles closer in your arms, you can't help but think that sometimes the best presents come when you least expect them.

The office will look different from now on, you think. The familiar halls and rooms now charged with memory - her hand in yours as she led you here, the first press of her lips against yours, the way she looked on her knees between your legs…

Finally, reluctantly, you both begin to dress. You help Yunjin button her blouse, stealing kisses between each button until she laughs and pushes you away playfully. Her hair is slightly messed up from your fingers and her lips are still swollen from their earlier activities.

She's never looked more beautiful.

"Walk me to my car?" she asks, slipping her hand into yours.

"Of course," you reply, squeezing her fingers gently.

As you make your way through the quiet building, you can't help but marvel at how much can change in a single night. Yesterday, Yunjin was just your friend and coworker. Now... now she's something more, something precious and exciting and full of possibility.

In the parking garage, she turns to face you before getting in her car. "Text me when you get home?" she asks, and you nod.

"Definitely." You pull her close for one more kiss, slow and sweet. "Merry Christmas, Yunjin."

She smiles against your lips. "Merry Christmas."

You watch her drive away, snow swirling in the headlights, before heading to your own car. As you drive home through the quiet streets, you can't wipe the smile off your face. This Christmas is already shaping up to be the best one yet.

Your phone buzzes with a text just as you're pulling into your driveway. It's from Yunjin: "Already missing those five more minutes 😘"

You reply quickly:

"We'll have to make up for lost time after the holidays."

Her response comes immediately:

"Can't wait 💕"

As you head inside, you find yourself actually looking forward to returning to work after Christmas. Who knew the office could hold such possibilities? But then again, with Yunjin involved, anything seems possible.

You fall asleep that night with thoughts of soft lips and gentle hands, of whispered confessions and promises of more to come. In your dreams, it's still snowing, and Yunjin is there, smiling at you through the white flakes, reaching for your hand.

Tomorrow will bring family gatherings and holiday traditions, but tonight belongs to the memory of her - the taste of her kisses, the sound of her moans, the feel of her skin under your fingers. It's the best Christmas gift you could have asked for, and it's only the beginning.

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this-is-tiny-mia · 1 month ago

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Sorry, wrong number (H.S. One Shot) Part 3 (Last Part)

General Masterlist Summary: A wrong-number text leads to an unexpected connection between a you and a stranger. What starts as a playful exchange quickly becomes the highlight of their days, leaving you curious about the man behind the messages.

Finally Y/N and Harry give in to their feelings.

A/n: I CANNOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH SUPPORT THIS SERIES GOT, I HAD SO SO SO SO MUCH FUN WRITING IT AND I CAN'T WAIT TO DO MORE STUFF. Thanks if you liked, shared, left a comment, anything! REALLY THANK YOU SO SO MUCH.

Thanks to the best of the best @eileenrry for hyping me up (It's already saturday over there so i guess it's fair i'm publishing this now) Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: A LOT OF FLUFF AND A LOT OF CHEESY DATES YOU'LL BE THROWING UP BY THE END OF IT. MAINLY CUTESY STUFF FOR YOU TO FANTASIZE ABOUT. Use of y/n, everything happens really fast, time moves QUICK.

You read his text again, your heart racing. It was playful, sure, but there was something else—something unspoken, just under the surface.

"I think it means we’re in trouble," you finally typed, keeping it vague. You didn’t want to assume anything yet.

"Trouble? 🤔" His reply came almost immediately. "Define trouble."

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How could you define something you didn’t fully understand yourself? How could you put butterflies at full speed into words?

"I don’t know," you typed. "Maybe… when someone sneaks into your head when you’re supposed to be working, and suddenly spreadsheets don’t make sense anymore."

Brave of you. Classy, even. You hit send and stared at the screen, instantly second-guessing yourself. It was honest, sure, but had you said too much?

The three little dots appeared. Then it disappeared. Then it appeared again.

Oh, shit. Please say something.

"You know what I think it means?" he finally wrote.

"What?"

"That I’ve somehow managed to ruin spreadsheets for you, and I’m not even sorry."

You giggled out loud, the sound breaking through the quiet of your room.

"Good to know you have no regrets" you replied, a smile spreading across your face that nothing could erase.

"None at all," he shot back. "But for the record, you’ve ruined a few things for me too."

The conversation hung there for a moment, his words settling over you like a soft weight. You wanted to ask what he meant, but you were terrified of the answer.

"Fair enough. I guess we’re even," you typed back.

“Want to ruin things for each other tomorrow?”

“What does that even mean?” you chuckled, staring at your phone.

“It means I’ll think of you tomorrow, and I hope you’ll think of me too. Goodnight, Tulip 🌷.”

It felt completely surreal, like you were trapped in a dream you never wanted to wake up from. You couldn’t help but thank your past self—and your lousy fingers—for mistyping that single, life-changing number. Just one little mistake, and now here you were, heart racing and thoughts spiraling every time his name lit up your screen. It was pure magic.

The next morning, you found yourself humming while making breakfast. Humming! Like you were Aurora from Sleeping Beauty, twirling around your kitchen like the birds were about to join in. You were a walking cliché, and you didn’t even care. Doomed, yes—but in the best way possible. In love, obviously. The knock at the door jolted you out of your fairytale haze. You blinked, momentarily confused, before heading to answer it. Standing there was a delivery man holding the biggest bouquet of tulips you'd ever seen—bright, colorful, and completely over-the-top in the best way.

"I didn’t…" you started, unsure if this was a mistake.

"Delivery for Y/N," the grumpy delivery man interrupted, already turning on his heel. "Have a good day or whatever." And just like that, he was gone, leaving you in the doorway with the bouquet in your hands, completely stunned. Were these even meant for you? He hadn’t checked any ID or anything. But the moment your eyes landed on the card nestled between the tulips, your heart flipped.

For Tulip From H.

It was all you needed. That tiny, scribbled note said everything. You felt the heat rush to your face as a grin spread across it. Of course they were yours. Who else would send tulips to you?

You closed the door behind you, clutching the bouquet like it was the most precious thing in the world, unable to wipe the smile off your face.you stared at the flowers like an idiot for a hot minute and quickly grabbed your phone to text him but he beat you to it, as you were typing the message his came first. “Morning Tulip, hope you were awake.”

“I was indeed, woke up to 25 tulips in my face.”

“Oh really? I thought I said 30. Someone’s getting fired,” he replied, clearly joking.

“I really love them, they’re beautiful. 25 is more than enough. Why the flowers, though?” You played the innocent card, knowing full well the answer.

“Oh, I thought I should make sure to mess with those spreadsheets today.”

The sound that escaped your mouth wasn’t even human—it was a mix between a laugh and a scream. You quickly tried to gather your thoughts to reply.

“Then how can I make sure I mess with your day?” you typed, feeling bolder than usual.

“You already are doing it, Tulip.”

And just like that, your heart was officially ruined for the day. You stared at his last message, rereading it like it held the secrets of the universe. How did he do that? Ruin your entire day—in the best way possible—with just a few words?

“Good to know I’m effective” you replied, smirking to yourself.

“So… how do you feel about letting me ruin your evening too?”

It’s happening! Everybody calm down! it’s happening!. Your stomach flipped. You typed and deleted your reply about five times before settling on something casual.

“Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“Dinner? Unless you’re busy with those spreadsheets.” There it was again, the perfect balance of teasing and genuine interest.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your firing spree, but… dinner sounds good.”

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

As you stared at the screen, excitement mixed with nerves. Was this real? Was he actually asking you out? Tulips were one thing, but a whole dinner? That felt… bigger. And 7. It was barely 9:30 am, and you had to wait until 7? That’s torture. What were you supposed to do for the next few hours? Sit around and obsess over every possible scenario? Yeah, you did.

You groaned and tossed your phone on the couch, pacing the room like it might somehow speed up time. Maybe you’d clean the apartment—again. Or work on those spreadsheets he seemed so intent on ruining. Or maybe… you’d just spend the day imagining what this dinner would actually be like. Would it be casual, or was he planning something elaborate? What would he wear? Oh god, what should you wear? The spiral of overthinking had officially begun, and 7 PM felt like a lifetime away.

By the time 7 PM FINALLY rolled around, you were a bundle of nerves. After hours of trying on clothes and second-guessing your choices, you’d settled on something simple but flattering. You didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, but let’s face it—you were. A buzz on your phone snapped you out of your last-minute mirror check.

“Outside. No pressure, but I’m hungry.”

You laughed, grabbed your bag, and took one last deep breath before stepping outside. There he was, leaning casually against his car, looking effortlessly perfect. How was it possible for someone to make standing look so good? Only Harry Styles.

“Nice ride,” you teased, trying to hide your nerves.

“Nice dress,” he shot back, smirking as he opened the passenger door for you. LOST, you are more than lost for this man.

The drive was filled with the kind of banter that felt like second nature by now. He wouldn’t tell you where you were going, just that it was “low-key, but worth it.” That’s what you expected actually, he was really recognizable, and you? could be mistaken for a waitress if some took the correct picture. Harry Styles and who is she? But then you ended up at a cozy little Italian place tucked away in a quiet corner of the city.

“Looks amazing” you asked as he held the door open for you.

“Wait till you taste it” he said, leading you inside. Wait…was that….about the restaurant? or….

The atmosphere was warm and intimate, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. You sat across from him at a small corner table, feeling like the rest of the world had disappeared.

“Alright, let’s get this out of the way,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “Tell me all the embarrassing stories about yourself before the breadsticks get here.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Absolutely not. But I’ll trade one for one if you’re brave enough.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s on.”

The night unfolded with laughter, stolen glances, and stories that made both of you feel like you’d known each other forever. At some point, you realized you hadn’t checked your phone once—a miracle in itself. You were used to distract yourself whenever the guy you were out with started to talk about bitcoin or some pyramid scheme. When the check came, he waved you off before you could even reach for your wallet.

“Don’t start,” he warned, smirking. “Consider it a payment for ruining your spreadsheets.”

I don’t even think we can still say butterflies. let’s evolve to a full on zoo. As he walked you back to your door later that night, the air between you felt charged but comfortable. You paused, turning to face him.

“Thank you. For tonight. It was…”

“Perfect,” he finished for you, his voice soft.

You didn’t even mind that he left you with just that. No kiss, no dramatic goodbye.

But.

His gaze flicked to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again, and your breath caught.

‘Can I…’ he started, voice barely above a whisper, ‘...do one more thing to completely ruin your night?’

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. You tilted your face up slightly, and he took the hint, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was soft at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, his hand came up to gently cup your jaw, deepening the kiss just enough to leave you dizzy. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, both of you breathing slightly harder.

‘I think you just ruined my whole life,’ you said. It was pathetic, but it was a completely, utterly, undeniable truth.

‘Alright, Tulip. I’ll take full responsibility. But if I’ve ruined your life, I guess I’m going to have to stick around and fix it.’

You could feel your knees WEAK.

----

By now Gwen knew about your lovelife, who didn’t when you were dating Harry Styles, it was really difficult to hide the blushing moments, the giggles, the fancy car that picked you up every now and then, Your days were magical. MORE than magical.

May 12

Harry had sent you a song that morning with a simple text

“This one it’s just pure truth. Song link Specially 2:32”

Listening to it on repeat throughout the day, you couldn’t help but smile. It was one of those songs that felt like a confession, like it was saying all the things he hadn’t quite said yet.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Mr. Styles?" you texted.

"YOU tell me 😉"

May 14

You snapped a picture of your desk—papers, coffee cups, and a very tired-looking plant all vying for space.

"Welcome to chaos" you captioned it and sent it to him.

Seconds later, a photo of a perfectly neat studio table arrived, complete with his notebook, a few pens, and an untouched cup of tea.

"Show-off" you texted.

"Organized chaos" he corrected. “Coming to make me company later?”

“Obviously”

May 18

“🌷”

Every morning now started with a single tulip emoji from Harry. No text, no explanation—just the flower. It made you laugh every time, this simple, silent ritual he’d created just for you. There was something about it—something understated and intimate.

It didn’t matter if the rest of the world felt chaotic or overwhelming; that one tiny emoji always managed to anchor you. Some days, you’d wake up to find it already waiting for you, like a quiet reminder that someone out there was thinking of you. Other days, it would pop up mid-morning, just as you were starting to feel the weight of your to-do list. But he NEVER failed to send it.

You weren’t even sure how he’d decided to start—but you knew it was the first thing you’d look for every day. It wasn’t grand or overly sentimental, but that’s what made it so special. It was Harry in the simplest, purest form—thoughtful, playful, and somehow always knowing exactly what you needed without you ever having to say a word. Sometimes, you’d reply with nothing more than a matching tulip. Other times, you’d tease him with a string of emojis—🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷—followed by a cheeky, “Did one not feel sufficient today, love?” Yes. “Love” had made its way into the conversation. Tulip was still his favorite, but love was now in the game.

He never explained it, never justified it. But in those simple tulips, he said so much more: I’m here for you. I see you. I want you.

May 30

When you told Harry you’d finally gotten the project approved at work, his response came in the form of three celebratory emojis: 🎉🥂🌷.

"I’m so proud of you, my tulip" he wrote.

It wasn’t over-the-top or overly formal, but it hit you right where it mattered. The simplicity, the care—it was so very him.

"You were the one pushing me to keep doing it at midnight that day in your apartment. So it’s all because of you 💖"

The rest of the day passed in a blur of emails, calls, and the lingering glow of Harry’s words. By the time evening rolled around, you were ready to collapse on the couch with a mindless TV show and a celebratory glass of wine. That was the plan as Harry told you he was stuck with some family stuff, at least, until the doorbell rang. You frowned. You weren’t expecting anyone. Pulling your sweater tighter around you, you padded to the door and peered through the peephole. And there he was.

Harry. Standing on your doorstep, wearing that damn smile, holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and—of course—a single tulip in the other.

You flung the door open, heart racing. "Harry, what—"

"Celebrating you, obviously," he said, stepping inside like he’d always belonged there. He handed you the tulip first, letting his fingers brush yours, then held up the champagne. "I figured we could upgrade from emojis."

You laughed, caught somewhere between disbelief and pure joy. "You didn’t have to do this."

"Didn’t I?" he countered, his tone soft but teasing. "You work so hard, Tulip. You deserve to be celebrated properly. And most importantly by your boyfriend"

It was more than 1 month since he made it completely official, and called himself your boyfriend, and you obviously didn’t argue about it, but still, it all felt like a dream. YOUR BOYFRIEND wanted to celebrate you and that’s exactly what he did. You spent the evening sitting on the living room floor, sharing stories, clinking glasses, and laughing until your cheeks hurt. At one point, he grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, and simply said, "I’m proud of you."

It wasn’t loud or flashy, but it was everything. The kind of moment that imprinted itself on your heart, quietly becoming one of your favorites.

June 8

"Busy next Friday?"

"Depends. What’s the occasion?"

"Thought you might like to see what all the fuss is about. Backstage pass included 😉. A kiss from the performer too. Maybe multiple ones."

“I ACCEPT”

Your heart raced. You weren't sure what terrified you more: being in his world or the fact that he wanted you to be. But in reality you were already in his world, of course there were many MANY articles of “Harry Styles spotted with mystery girl” but you were just too busy actually being so in love with him to even care.

July 16 It was Harry’s idea.

“I’m a decent cook,” he said, grinning as he rolled up his sleeves. “You’ll be impressed. Trust me.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you trusted him, but the idea of spending the evening in his kitchen, cooking together, sounded perfect. He handed you an apron, and you got to work. The plan was ambitious: homemade pasta and sauce, garlic bread, and a simple dessert. But things went off course almost immediately.

“Is this what dough is supposed to look like?” you asked, holding up a sticky mess that refused to cooperate.

Harry peered over your shoulder, frowning. “Uh… probably not. But it’s okay! It’s rustic.”

“Rustic,” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your explanation for this disaster?”

“It’s charming,” he said, taking the dough from you and attempting to salvage it.

“Do you happen to have Gordon Ramsay on your contacts?” You said looking at the unfinished (a bit uneatable) dinner. “I do, but i don’t think he would want to see this”

By the time the pasta was in the pot, you were both covered in flour, and the kitchen looked like a tornado had swept through it. The sauce was a little too salty, the garlic bread had burned edges, and somehow, the dessert had completely fallen apart.But when you sat down at the tiny kitchen table, your mismatched plates in front of you, it didn’t matter.

“To our first—and possibly last—cooking adventure,” Harry said, raising his glass of wine.

“Here’s to hoping we survive the food poisoning,” you joked, clinking your glass against his.

But the truth was, the meal was delicious in its imperfection. And as you sat there, laughing and stealing bites from each other’s plates, you realized it wasn’t about the food at all. It was about this—about him.

----

It had been two days. Harry was on a quick trip to L.A., and the time zones, paired with his whirlwind schedule, made communication sporadic. You told yourself he was busy—his life was far more chaotic than yours—but the silence still felt deafening.

You’d held back from texting or calling him, trying not to seem clingy, but the doubts crept in anyway. Maybe this was too much. Maybe you were too much.

Finally, you broke. Your fingers hovered over your phone, hesitating over his contact like he wasn’t your boyfriend, like he was once again just a stranger. Before you could overthink it, you sent a simple message: “Am I ruining your days over there?👀🌷”

The minutes stretched into hours with no reply. You didn’t realize how tightly you were gripping your phone until the screen dimmed, reflecting your worried expression.

Then came the knock.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, rushing to the door.

Harry stood there, out of breath, hair disheveled, his eyes searching yours like he’d been running for miles.

“You’re in L.A.,” you blurted, confused.

“Was,” he corrected, stepping closer. “I—I couldn’t do this over text.”

“Do what?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He held up his phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. Your text stared back at you.

“This. You. I literally cannot think straight when I’m away from you.” His voice cracked slightly, and your heart clenched. “I don’t care if we’re moving too fast. I think about you all the time, and I’m—”

You stepped forward, cutting him off as your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Harry, stop,” you murmured against his chest, your voice soft but sure. “You’re here. That’s all I need.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands firm but gentle on your arms. “No, you don’t understand,” he said, his gaze steady. “I love you. Completely. Hopelessly. And I couldn’t let another second go by without telling you.”

The world seemed to tilt, his words hanging in the air.

“You idiot,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes as a smile broke through. “I love you too.”

The kiss that followed wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t a question or a test. It was an answer—a culmination of every tulip emoji, late-night text, and unspoken promise.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you laughing softly, Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a single tulip, slightly crumpled but no less beautiful.

“I couldn’t come empty-handed,” he said with a lopsided grin.

You took the flower, your smile uncontainable. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it.”

That night, curled up on the couch with his arm around your shoulders and the tulip resting in a vase on the coffee table, you realized something profound.

It wasn’t the tulips, the texts, or the grand gestures that made this real. It was the quiet moments—the shared smiles, the silent understanding, the unwavering presence.

No matter what, you had each other.

Forever. --- A/n: If you made it til the end, i just want to say thanks again 🥹🫶 If you have any suggestions or comments or complaints! , please feel free to reach out! --- Taglist:

@jackiehollanderr @proudravenclawbird @hopeyoustaythenight @maryjahps @obsessiveenthusiast @liiit44 @loveheart-123 @harrystyleshotwife @harryscherries28

@addiemb8332 @cumuluscranium @gguksfilter @alemunson42069 @sarah22194 @summertime-pills @hescrush @cosmomento @harrys-wifeyy @isinpfortvdmen

@familyshow-orisit @notsosweetcreature @cevans-winchester @camillegillians @donutsandpalmtrees @amateurduck @hermionelove @misty-heartbreak

#harry styles #hs4 #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #one shot #one shot harry styles #harry styles fluff #sorry wrong number #harry fic #hs fanfic #part 3

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focusonkayjay · 2 months ago

Text

stuck with you | (2/5)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: computer sci major/ shy/ nerdy! jungkook, econ major/ popular/ influencer! reader, college au, roommates au, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

Summary: Jungkook’s a hopeless romantic—emphasis on hopeless more than romantic. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he swore he heard bells chiming, like the angels from above were giving him a cosmic nudge. But he’s always been the awkward, nerdy guy—the one who blends into the background—while you? You felt like a dream way out of his league. Fate, however, had other plans and now, you’re his roommate and living with you—in all your effortless glory—is equal parts chaos and heaven. The only challenge? Keeping his ever-growing feelings in check. That is—until a cocky fuckboy with not-so-pure intentions sets his sights on you, and suddenly, just loving you from the sidelines might not be enough.

Word Count: 20.4k+

Chapter Warnings: butchered representation of a scene from the anime "attack on titan" (im sorryfjhjfghierg), mentions of blood and some gorey stuff because of the anime scene hhhh, jaehyun is a huge dick, heavy on the angst, lots and lots of angst, again some inaccurate econ and comp sci things, oc is just an oblivious cutie </3, did i mention angst

cher's notes: second part is here ahhhh !! there’s a lot happening in this chapter, so buckle up. also — i finally decided this mini series will have 5 parts in total, which means the chapters are gonna be on the longer side because i want to squeeze in everything. and to my lovely EBYT readers — the next part is officially dropping tomorrow YAAAHOOOO. thank you so much for reading and supporting, it means the world. stay tuned and let me know how you’re feeling about this series so far !! now let me go catch up on all your sweet reblogs and replies eeee !!

★ PLAYLIST ★ MOODBOARDS

two: it doesn't take much

"Kook, you free?" you call out, leaning against your doorframe, eyes fixed on Jungkook, who's sprawled across the couch, one arm draped lazily over his stomach as he scrolls through his phone. At the sound of your voice, he instantly looks up. "Yeah, why?" he asks, locking his screen.

"Come here." You don't wait for a response, disappearing into your room and like always, without a second thought, Jungkook gets up, padding down the hall to get to your room.

Jungkook loves your room.

Loves the way your room always carries a faint trace of vanilla intertwined with something floral—jasmine, maybe, or that one candle you always keep burning on your nightstand, housed in a delicate frosted glass jar. He loves how the soft glow of your LED lights bathes the space in warmth, how everything—your desk, your computer, your shelves—is so meticulously arranged.

Your room is just so... you, and every time he steps inside, he can't help but take it all in, admiring the way you've turned four plain walls into something that feels like a world of its own.

His gaze immediately falls on the huge box resting on your bed, and he doesn't even have to ask because frankly speaking, he's seen this sight plenty of times to know it's another PR package.

"Sit." You grin, already taking a seat on your bed, gesturing at the empty spot in front of you. "I got these lip stains in the mail today." you explain, excitement lacing your voice as you pat the box. "Wanna test them out with me? Pleasseeee."

Jungkook wonders why you're even asking, why you're evening saying 'please' because when has he ever said no to you?

He simply huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he settles onto the bed, sitting criss-cross in front of you like he's your personal test subject. You giggle as you carefully start unboxing the package, peeling back the layers of wrapping with an almost childlike excitement.

Jungkook watches, momentarily distracted—not by the package, but by you.

The way your eyes light up, the way your fingers move with care as if unwrapping something precious. The packaging is extravagant, unnecessarily grand for something as simple as lip stains, but when he sees the way it makes you smile, he figures maybe that's the point.

Maybe it's meant to make people feel like this. And if that's the case, then he hopes every product you ever receive comes wrapped in the prettiest boxes, because the look on your face right now?

Yeah, he'd like to see that again.

"Wow..." you breathe out, eyes wide with amusement as you take in the sight before you—eight lip stains neatly nestled inside the box. You weren't expecting this, especially not so soon.

The brand had sent you PR before, after that one tiktok you made for them, but this? The limited-edition collection, delivered straight to your doorstep? It was definitely a pleasant surprise.

"Look at all these shades." you gasp, voice laced with excitement as you carefully pluck out the first one. The colors range from soft pinks to deep berry tones, each more tempting than the last. You turn to Jungkook, eyes gleaming. "Wanna try this one?"

Jungkook raises a brow but doesn't protest because again, when has he ever said no to you?

"These are peel-off lip stains." you explain, twisting the cap and the scent—sweet, vaguely fruity—drifts up immediately. "Peel-off?" Jungkook repeats, skepticism creeping into his tone.

You nod enthusiastically. "Yeah, you apply it, wait a few minutes, and once it dries, you just peel it off. It leaves behind a stain."

He furrows his brows, still struggling to wrap his head around the whole concept, but he nods anyway. Because, really, if there's one thing Jungkook has learned, it's that when it comes to you and your beauty experiments, it's better to just simply go along with it.

"Come here." you say, nudging the box aside to make space as you inch closer. Jungkook straightens his back, his hands resting idly on his lap as he waits, patient and compliant, like always.

With one hand, you gently cup his chin, steadying his face. Your fingers are warm against his skin, and Jungkook swallows, trying to ignore the way his pulse betrays him. Slowly, with careful precision, you begin tracing the outline of his lips.

And that's when it hits him. The proximity.

It's not unfamiliar—this has happened before. Every time you apply something to his face, you get so, so close that he can almost feel your breath ghosting against his skin. But somehow, it never stops setting off a chain reaction inside him.

His breath catches the moment the wand glides over his lips, and he notices—of course, he notices—the way your eyes remain so intently focused on his mouth.

God, this is not good for his heart. His poor, overworked, utterly helpless heart.

Before his thoughts spiral any further, before he lets himself feel too much, he does what he always does—he closes his eyes. Shuts out the sight of you, the nearness of you, the way his chest tightens at the thought of you. Because he is not god's strongest soldier.

Once you finish filling in his lips with the product, you sit back, tilting your head as you admire your work. That's when Jungkook finally opens his eyes.

The color of the peel is darker than the actual stain—almost unnaturally so—and it makes him look... well, a little funny. You try to hold it in, but a giggle slips past your lips before you can stop it.

"What?" Jungkook asks, brows furrowing in confusion but the moment he speaks, something feels off. His lips feel stiff, like they've been coated in wax, and the weird sensation makes his frown deepen.

"Don't talk." you say quickly, waving a hand in warning. "You have to let it dry first."

His expression remains skeptical, but he still obeys. Your attention, however, has already drifted back to the box. While Jungkook patiently waits for his peel-off stain to dry, you figure it's time to test out another shade yourself.

"Which one should I try?" you hum, tapping your chin in thought. Then, pushing the box towards him, you grin. "You choose for me."

Jungkook takes a moment, scanning the neatly arranged tubes. His eyes land on a deep crimson shade—rich, elegant, the kind of color he just knows will look good on you. Without a word (because someone told him not to talk), he simply points at it.

You smile, clearly pleased with his choice, and take the tube in hand. Reaching for the little mirror on your desk, you carefully begin applying the stain to your lips, oblivious to the way Jungkook watches you, his own lips still tingling, his heart still hopelessly traitorous.

God.

The way you apply that stain to your lips—so slow, so precise, like it's a ritual rather than just makeup. The way your gaze lingers on your reflection, eyes flicking over every detail as you smooth the product across your lips with effortless grace.

Jungkook swears he's never seen anyone look so mesmerizing while doing something so utterly mundane.

It's ridiculous, really, how something as simple as this—just you, applying lip stain—has him completely entranced. His pulse trips over itself, his stomach does this weird, weightless thing, and suddenly, he's wondering if it's normal to be this enchanted with someone.

And then, just as quickly as you began, you're done. You twist the cap back on, set the mirror down, and turn to him with a soft, satisfied smile. You begin fanning your lips and gesture Jungkook to follow. He blinks, forcing himself to shake off whatever daze he's in before wordlessly copying you.

So now, the two of you just sit there, cross-legged on your bed, silently fanning your lips with comically serious expressions. If anyone were to walk in right now, they'd probably think you were performing some bizarre ritual.

Jungkook should find this ridiculous. Maybe even funny.

But all he can focus on is the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes dip with each slow blink, and the effortless way you exist—completely unaware of just how much space you take up in his head.

After what feels like forever, Jungkook notices you reaching for the mirror again. His gaze follows the movement of your fingers as you carefully press against the edge of the lip stain and begin peeling it away. His brows knit together slightly because, for a second, it almost looks like you're peeling off a layer of your skin.

But then, as the translucent film lifts, the color left behind on your lips begins to show, seamlessly tinted like a watercolor painting. And suddenly, the whole concept makes sense to him.

You peel away the last bit and turn to him with a smile. "Looks nice?"

Jungkook nods, eyes still fixed on your lips, like he's studying every shift of color, every little detail. "Come here, let me do yours too," you say, gesturing him closer.

Without a second thought, he inches forward, bringing his face to your eye level, and for the second time tonight, he finds himself painfully aware of your proximity.

Your fingers gently take hold of the dried stain on his lips, peeling it away while Jungkook sits perfectly still, his breath hitching just slightly at the sensation, his gaze locked onto your face.

And then, just as the final layer comes off, you let out a delighted gasp. "Oh my god !!" you beam, tilting your head to admire the color. "This shade looks so good on you."

Jungkook blinks, lips slightly parted. He doesn't know what's worse, the fact that you're still so close, or the fact that you're looking at him like that, like he's something pretty.

You lean back slightly, pulling the box closer, skimming the fine print with a look of mild amusement. "Hmmm... it says here that these are kiss-proof." you giggle, tapping the side of the box. Then, with zero hesitation and far too much nonchalance, you glance at Jungkook. "Should we test that out?"

And that's it. That's how Jungkook dies.

You want to test it out?

With him?

Test it out... how exactly?

His brain stutters. His body forgets how to function. His soul quite literally leaves his body and ascends to the heavens for a moment before violently crashing back down into the reality of what you just said.

There are several things happening inside Jungkook right now, and none of them are good for his well-being. His heart is in the middle of a full cardiac arrest, his stomach is doing something between a backflip and a complete nosedive, and his entire nervous system has gone into DEFCON 1.

The mere thought of your lips on his—of actually getting to kiss you, even under the guise of some ridiculous experiment—is enough to send him spiraling. His pulse is thunderous. His breath? Completely nonexistent.

"You... you want to test it out?" he croaks, like he needs to double-check before his imagination starts running off the rails. You nod, completely casual, as if you didn't just send his entire life into turmoil. "Yeah, why not?" you shrug.

Why not ??

WHY NOT ?!

Oh, Jungkook can think of a million reasons why not. Maybe because he has spent months suppressing every urge, every look, every stray thought about how insanely, stupidly in love with you he is?

Maybe because the idea of your lips even remotely close to his, is enough to send him into a self-destructive spiral? Maybe because if this actually happens, if he actually gets a taste of something he has wanted for so long, there's no way in hell he'll ever be able to come back from it?

"Oh... O-okay." he stammers, because—obviously. What else is he supposed to say?

No? No?! That's not even a possibility.

He braces himself. Inhales sharply. Inches just the tiniest bit closer, his eyes fluttering shut, waiting, anticipating, standing on the precipice of something life-altering.

This is it. This is the moment his world shifts on its axis. The moment he has his first ever kiss kiss with none other than... you, the girl he's been hopelessly, irrevocably in love with for months.

And then—

A loud, exaggerated smooch sound fills the air.

But he feels... nothing.

No soft pressure against his lips, no warmth against his skin and that's when he slowly opens his eyes, only to find you inspecting the back of your hand.

"Wow, these really are kiss-proof." you muse, turning your hand under the light, admiring the complete lack of transfer.

Oh.

So that's what you meant.

Jungkook just sits there, utterly motionless, trying to reboot his entire existence. Of course that's what you meant—testing it on the back of your hand, like a normal person. Like a sane person.

Meanwhile, he? He was two seconds away from experiencing cardiac arrest over the sheer possibility of kissing you.

"You should do it too." you say, finally looking up at him, still completely unaware of the absolute catastrophe you've just triggered inside him.

Oh, should he? Should he go ahead and casually press his lips to his hand like this is some simple, scientific experiment—like he didn't just mentally prepare himself to kiss you, like he didn't just have a full-blown crisis over it?

Jungkook swallows hard, blinking at you in disbelief. He has two choices here—either expose himself completely and let you see exactly how down bad he is, or just go along with it, pretend he wasn't internally combusting moments ago.

So, with what little dignity he has left, he clears his throat, nods stiffly, and hesitantly lifts his hand to his lips. The second they touch, he glares at his palm like it personally offended him.

Yeah. Great. Exactly what he wanted to be kissing right now.

Eventually, Jungkook loses track of time. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting in your room, letting you test shade after shade on him, obediently parting his lips whenever you tilt his chin, watching as you do the same on yourself with that same meticulous focus that drives him absolutely insane.

By the time you're finally done testing them all, you lean back and let out a satisfied sigh. "Oh my god, I actually love this product." you gush, eyes twinkling. Then, you turn to him. Jungkook blinks, still caught in the haze of his own thoughts, and god, the poor boy looks exhausted.

"Oh my god," you gasp, brows furrowing. "Did I wear you out?" you ask and Jungkook stares at you. No, he's not worn out. He's still internally screaming over how catastrophically, idiotically stupid he is.

How could he have just assumed you wanted to kiss him? How did his brain take "Should we test that out?" and spin it into some earth-shattering, life-changing confession? How did he let himself believe, for even a second, that you—his roommate, his favorite person, the love of his goddamn life—were about to kiss him?

He wants to dig a hole and disappear. He wants to time travel back to that very moment and slap himself. He wants to not be this delusional.

"Oh... no, no." Jungkook says quickly, maybe too quickly, shaking his head in a way that's anything but natural. He hopes you don't hear the sheer devastation clinging to his words, the lingering disappointment he's trying so hard to swallow. "I was just... genuinely shocked at how well-made these products are." he lies, forcing what he hopes is a casual nod.

You beam at him, still completely oblivious. "That's true." you giggle, and just then, the doorbell rings. "Oh! That must be Jae!" you perk up instantly, getting off the bed without hesitation.

Ah. Right.

Jaehyun.

Jungkook had almost managed to forget about him for the briefest moment.

But of course, Jaehyun is still very much here. Still the same looming, overbearing presence in Jungkook's life—the human equivalent of an immovable roadblock, an unavoidable stop sign placed directly in his path.

It's almost like Jungkook can't escape Jaehyun.

No matter where he turns, no matter what time of the day it is, Jaehyun is somehow there, effortlessly inserting himself into your life in ways that makes Jungkook's skin itch.

Sometimes, he spots the two of you outside the econ building, standing too close, laughing at something he'll never be in on. Other times, he sees you sitting together along with Jimin in the cafeteria, Jaehyun casually taking up the seat beside you like he has every right to be there, like he's always been there.

But the absolute worst part? Seeing him here. In your shared apartment. In the living room. On the couch. In the kitchen. In your room. Jungkook hates how easily Jaehyun exists in it... like he belongs, like he fits. And of course, he's still your infuriatingly unavoidable, ever-present, stupid fucking assignment partner so Jungkook can't really say anything.

Jungkook hates it. Hates how it feels like Jaehyun never has to fight for a place in your world—how he just gets to be there. How, no matter how much Jungkook wants to, he can't just wish him away.

It's sickening. Truly.

And now, Jungkook has to sit here, lips still faintly stained from your little PR experiment, and watch as you rush to greet the very person who—whether you realize it or not—has become the greatest thorn in his side.

As Jungkook steps out of your room, he instantly spots Jaehyun stroll in behind you with that same effortless arrogance, the kind that makes it seem like he belongs wherever he goes, even when he doesn't.

Jaehyun's gaze barely lingers on Jungkook before a slow, amused smirk tugs at his lips, his eyes honing in on the faint stain of color still lingering on Jungkook's mouth.

"Yo, dude, are you wearing makeup?" He snorts, his tone laced with something condescending, something that instantly grates on Jungkook's nerves.

It's not the question that bothers him—it's how Jaehyun asks it, like it's some kind of joke, like he's pointing out something ridiculous for the sake of mocking it. Like he expects Jungkook to laugh along, to act embarrassed, to give him something.

But Jungkook isn't ashamed. Not in the slightest.

"We just tested out some lip stains." you reply casually, completely oblivious to the sudden change in the air between the two boys.

Jaehyun lets out another scoff of a laugh, shaking his head like he just can't believe what he's seeing. "Man, that's kinda wild." he mutters under his breath, but it's loud enough for Jungkook to hear, loud enough for it to hit exactly where Jaehyun wants it to and Jungkook's fingers curl into fists at his sides.

"Yeah?" His voice is low, dangerously calm. "What's wild about it?"

Jaehyun shrugs, all nonchalance and feigned innocence. "Nothing, man. Just not something you see every day." he says but the smirk still stays plastered.

Jungkook knows exactly what Jaehyun's doing.

He's seen it enough times, studied him enough to understand that he's the kind of guy who speaks in veiled jabs, just ambiguous enough that if you call him out, you're the one who looks like you're overreacting. The kind who masks condescension with an easy laugh, who pokes and prods just enough to worm his way under your skin but never enough to be held accountable for it.

Jaehyun gives him one last once-over before turning his attention to you like Jungkook isn't even there anymore, like he isn't worth another second of his time. And just like that, Jungkook has never wanted to punch someone more in his life.

"Kook, can you focus?" Taehyung grumbles, clearly unimpressed by how Jungkook keeps zoning out in the middle of their match. "Sorry." Jungkook mutters, forcing himself to snap back to the game.

His grip on the controller tightens, fingers moving instinctively as his character lunges forward in the video game, but the distraction lingers. His reaction time is slower than usual, and Taehyung instantly notices.

A few more minutes pass, and Jungkook spaces out again, his mind wandering somewhere far from the game, far from Taehyung's apartment, far from anything he actually wants to be thinking about and Taehyung finally snaps.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem?" He groans, chucking his controller onto the couch before turning to face Jungkook with narrowed eyes.

Jungkook exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. He's been here for almost an hour now, sprawled across Taehyung's couch after a long day at uni, because Taehyung had insisted they play Elden Ring together.

And normally, Jungkook would be invested, completely locked in, competitive, trash-talking Taehyung for every little mistake. But today, he just... isn't. Because, truthfully?

All he can think about these days is Jaehyun. And he hates it.

Hates how the guy lingers in his head like some ghost that refuses to leave, clinging to his thoughts in a way that feels unnatural. Hates how his presence is so deeply embedded in your life, hates the way you smile when you're with him, the easy way you laugh at his stupid jokes.

And most of all, he hates how Jaehyun always manages to worm his way under his skin, like a splinter buried too deep to pull out. It's the way he does it, too—so effortlessly, so casually, with those sharp-edged smirks and barely-there scoffs.

The snide remarks disguised as harmless teasing, the subtle but deliberate pauses before his dismissive looks, the offhanded, too-innocent comments that always feel like they carry an edge meant just for Jungkook to catch. It's calculated. It's infuriating. And worst of all? It's working.

But it's not like Jungkook can say that out loud without making himself look childish.

"It's nothing." he says instead, voice quieter than before, looking away. "Come on, Kook." Taehyung's voice softens, and Jungkook barely has time to react before Taehyung tugs the controller right out of his hands and sets it aside. "Talk to me. You've been like this for days. You don't say anything, but I know something's been bothering you."

Jungkook swallows, jaw tensing. "Come on." Taehyung presses, inching closer, his sharp gaze scanning Jungkook's face. "It's about Y/n, isn't it?"

Jungkook exhales through his nose, long and slow, because at this point, what's the use in denying it? Taehyung's like a bloodhound when it comes to this stuff and there's literally no escaping him.

"Okay, fine." he mutters, sitting up straighter. "But promise me you won't judge me." he adds and Taehyung blinks at him, looking downright offended. "Dude. When have I ever judged you? The fuck?"

Jungkook sighs because—yeah, fair. But still, admitting this out loud makes him feel ridiculous. Like he's a teenager with a stupid crush, and not a grown adult who should be handling his emotions better.

"Okay, listen." he starts "Y/n's been working on this assignment with some guy for the past few weeks, right? I think it's been, like, three weeks now?"

Taehyung nods, waiting for him to continue.

"And this guy..." Jungkook exhales sharply, fingers tightening into fists. "Something about him just feels off, you know? Like, I'm not saying I'm jealous, but the way he acts around Y/n, the way he acts in our apartment... it's just weird. He's way too comfortable."

Taehyung raises a brow at that. "Comfortable? In what way?"

"For starters, the way he talks to her." Jungkook leans back against the couch, shaking his head. "They're always laughing, cracking jokes, and sometimes... I don't even think Y/n notices it, but he just looks at her weirdly, you know?"

The moment the words leave his mouth, he instantly regrets it, because that's when Taehyung's knowing smirk appears. "Ohhh...." Taehyung drawls, grinning like the menace he is. "From the way you're talking, you are most definitely jealous, Kook."

"Tae. That's not the point here." Jungkook says firmly, fixing him with an unimpressed glare. "Okay, okay, sorry." Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, still smiling. "I mean, maybe they're just friends? They share the same major, they're in the same class... maybe that's why they seem so close? Maybe that's why he's so comfortable around her?" Taehyung tries, tilting his head in thought.

Jungkook's lips press into a tight line. "Yeah, well..." His voice trails off. "That could be it." There's a brief pause before he's talking again. "But still... something about that guy just feels so... eerie." he mutters, his brows knitting together. "Especially the way he looks at me."

Taehyung's expression falters slightly. "Looks at you?" he asks. "Yeah. Like I'm beneath him. Like he somehow knows what I feel for Y/n. Like he knows seeing him with her bothers me." Jungkook clenches his jaw, frustration simmering beneath his skin. "It's like he's taunting me without saying a word."

Taehyung tilts his head, considering. "Well... don't you think you might be reading into it too much?" His voice is softer now, genuinely questioning.

Jungkook lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, that's what I thought at first too. But it's happened so many times now that I can't just brush it off." He exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "Jaehyun just knows how to get—"

"Wait. Wait." Taehyung suddenly cuts in, eyes going wide. "Did you just say Jaehyun?" he asks and Jungkook blinks. "Uh... yeah?"

"Bro." Taehyung groans as he stares at Jungkook like he just dropped the biggest plot twist of the century. "Why didn't you fucking start with that?"

Jungkook blinks, completely lost. "Start with what?" he asks. Taehyung looks like he wants to throttle him. "That the assignment partner you're talking about, the guy who's been getting on your nerves, the one who's been way too comfortable around Y/n— is Jaehyun. Jaehyun from econ." He repeats, as if saying it again will somehow make more sense.

Jungkook furrows his brows, still utterly bewildered. "Uh... yeah? That's him? Do you know him?" he questions and Taehyung throws his hands up, exasperated. "Dude, of course I know him. He's on the soccer team." His voice is flat, like this should have been obvious.

"Wait. What?" Jungkook's eyes widen. Now that is brand-new information.

"You'd know this if you actually came to my games and paid attention to my team instead of coding." Taehyung deadpans. "But anyways, that's besides the point." He quickly waves it off, redirecting the conversation back to the actual issue at hand. "Kook, that guy... he's bad news."

Jungkook swallows hard, his fingers curling slightly. Because fuck, a part of him already knew. He had felt it from the start but hearing Taehyung say it out loud? That solid confirmation makes his stomach twist.

"Bad news?" He forces his voice to stay even, though his pulse kicks up. "Like... how bad?"

Taehyung sighs, raking a hand through his hair. "Long story short? He's a huge fuckboy."

Of course. Of course Jaehyun was a fuckboy.

Jungkook should have seen that coming. Should have realized sooner. But before he can say anything, Taehyung keeps going.

"Not publicly, though. Not in a way that makes it obvious, I guess. He's careful about his reputation around campus, I think... but god, I've heard him talk in the locker room... so many times, with the guys. He goes to these high-end clubs, finds random girls from other universities... and sleeps around with them."

Jungkook exhales slowly, trying to keep his composure, but there's a bitter weight settling in his chest, pressing down like a warning he doesn't want to hear but needs to.

"And what's truly disgusting is..." Taehyung pauses, like he's searching for the right words—or maybe trying to stop himself from getting sick just thinking about it. "It's how he talks about it in the locker room. He gives these guys every explicit detail of what he did, like it's some kind of conquest. The way he talks about women—like they're nothing but objects—it's fucking sickening."

Jungkook clenches his jaw, his fingers curling into fists.

"I told him to cut it out once." Taehyung continues, his voice tight with disdain. "But he just brushed me off, laughed it off like I was being sensitive. Since then, I can't really stand the guy. We're nothing but teammates now. And honestly? I avoid him as much as I can." He lets out a scoff before adding, "Even the coach caught him once, warned him to keep that shit out of the locker room. It was getting that bad."

Jungkook looks up sharply. "And did he stop?"

"Of course not. He just got more discreet about it. Makes sure no one important is around, but I still hear him whispering sometimes, running his mouth like he always does." Taehyung replies, shaking his head.

Jungkook feels something dark stir in his chest, an unsettling mix of anger and unease.

"But so far..." Taehyung adds, hesitating for a beat. "I'm not really sure if he's brought up Y/n or spoken about her. But now that I'm hearing all of this from you... I can't help but wonder—what if she's his next target?"

Jungkook stiffens.

"You know Y/n..." Taehyung sighs. "She's popular. A lot of guys have tried to get her attention and maybe Jaehyun sees this whole 'assignment partner' thing as his way in. Like a slow game. Build some trust and then eventually, you know..." His voice trails off, but the implication is crystal clear.

And Jungkook does know.

"I have to go." he suddenly says, rising from the couch with urgency and Taehyung instantly nods in understanding. "I need to talk to Y/n before it's too late." he adds, hurriedly grabbing his jacket and bag.

Without wasting another second, he's out the door.

You're almost halfway through your research paper assignment with Jaehyun. The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of data collection and analysis, a blur of brainstorming sessions, frantic note-taking, and the constant hum of keyboards clacking.

You've worked everywhere... in your apartment, in the campus library and you've also convinced him to work with you during some free periods because you really just want to get over with this paper.

And right now, you're seated on the floor in the middle of your living room, surrounded by papers, pens, post-its and your laptop as you work on the assignment.

"Ughhh, I'm so sick of this." Jaehyun groans dramatically, dropping his head onto the coffee table with a light thud. "You say that every week." you remark, not even bothering to look up from your screen as you highlight another key point.

"Yeah, well, every week, I mean it more." he huffs making you chuckle as you pat his back absentmindedly. "Just a few more weeks, and we'll be submitting this nightmare. We got this." you smile.

Jaehyun lifts his head, eyes filled with suffering. "I hate uni so much. Not only do we have this paper sucking the life out of us, but don't forget—we have that pop quiz next week too."

"Oh yeah." you nod, unbothered and still focused on your screen. "Should be fine. I'm already prepared for it."

Jaehyun narrows his eyes. "Of course you are. Ms. 'I go viral on tiktok and get straight A's' ...You stress me out." he comments, shaking his head. "That sounds like a you problem." You shrug with a smirk, finally looking at him.

"Okay, first of all—rude." he scoffs. "Second, how do you even have time to do all this? Like, I swear, you're out here thriving while I'm over here running on two brain cells, a prayer, and an iced coffee." he rambles.

"Skill issue." you shrug, turning back to look at your computer. "Wow. Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss much?" he says, shaking his head. "You know it." You grin, clicking away at your laptop.

A few seconds pass before you exhale softly, rolling your shoulders to ease the stiffness settling in. "Hey, I'm gonna use the restroom real quick." you inform Jaehyun, stretching slightly as you rise to your feet and Jaehyun gives you a nod.

The second you disappear, the living room falls into an eerie silence but not even a full minute passes before the front door suddenly unlocks with a sharp click. The door swings open, and Jungkook storms in, slightly breathless, his eyes scanning the apartment with urgency.

"Y/n?" he calls out, his voice edged with something Jaehyun can't quite place. His breath is uneven, his shoulders rising and falling as if he ran the entire way here.

Jaehyun watches, unimpressed, as Jungkook's gaze finally lands on him—alone in the living room. "What are you doing here?" Jungkook blurts out, his tone laced with irritation, like he wasn't expecting to see Jaehyun here, at this time.

Jaehyun smirks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the coffee table, exuding pure, effortless arrogance. "What do you think?" he counters smoothly. The question is rhetorical, and Jungkook knows it, but it still grates on his nerves.

Jaehyun's cocky demeanor sets Jungkook's teeth on edge, but he doesn't let himself react—not yet. Instead, he steps further inside, eyes narrowing. "Where's Y/n?" His voice is sharp, cutting straight to the point, though he's still catching his breath.

Jaehyun's smirk widens, like he's amused by the urgency in Jungkook's tone. "Relax, coder boy." he drawls lazily, tilting his head. "What's got you so worked up that you had to come running all the way here?"

Jungkook clenches his jaw, already irritated beyond belief. "It's none of your business." he says flatly. For a brief moment, something flickers in Jaehyun's eyes, something almost akin to surprise at Jungkook's tone, but it disappears just as quickly, replaced by another insufferable smirk.

"Damn." he chuckles, his tone dripping with mockery. "Someone's got their panties in a twist today."

That does it and something inside Jungkook snaps.

He moves in closer, his entire body radiating tension. "Look, Jaehyun, I don't have time for your stupid fucking games." he grits out. "I know what you're up to, so cut the cocky bullshit and stop acting like you're above me when in reality, you're nothing but a pathetic fuckboy."

Jaehyun scoffs, his smirk faltering just slightly. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "I've always had a bad feeling about you from the start." he mutters, voice rough with frustration. "And today, it's confirmed. You're just another sleazebag who gets off on playing around with girls, and you probably think Y/n is your next target." His words are cutting, precise, but he's not done yet.

Jaehyun simply raises an eyebrow, his elbows still resting on the coffee table casually as if Jungkook's words don't faze him.

"You think you can weasel your way into her life under the guise of this assignment, play the part of the helpful, charming friend, gain her trust... and then what? Wait until she lets her guard down and try to get her to sleep with you?" His expression darkens, eyes narrowing with nothing but pure, undiluted disgust. "All while trying to step over me like I'm nothing?"

Jungkook's chest rises and falls steadily, his anger simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained. "Well, that's not happening." he states, still staring down at Jaehyun.

"Because I'm telling Y/n everything—who you really are, what you're trying to do. I'm going to make sure she knows exactly what kind of a pathetic excuse for a man you are before you get the chance to screw her over like you've probably done to every other girl."

For a moment, Jungkook is almost shocked by how easily the words flow out of him, but maybe that's because of the sheer anger surging through his system. Or maybe it's because of something deeper— his need to protect you. Either way, standing here, staring Jaehyun down, Jungkook feels no hesitation. No doubt.

"Are you done?" Jaehyun finally sighs, his tone almost bored. Jungkook furrows his brows, irritation flaring at how utterly unaffected Jaehyun looks right now.

"I mean, that was quite the speech." Jaehyung muses, nodding his head. "Didn't know you had it in you, coder boy." His smirk widens. "Seriously, I'm impressed. I didn't know you could string together sentences like that, let alone talk for a full three minutes straight while actually making eye contact." He chuckles, his voice dripping with condescension. "That must've taken everything out of you, huh?"

Jungkook inhales sharply, his fists twitching at his sides, ready to fire back, but Jaehyun doesn't give him the chance.

"Go ahead." Jaehyun spreads his arms out as he leans back against the foot of the couch behind him, as if inviting the challenge. "Run along and tell Y/n whatever you want." His tone remains even. "Tell her I'm some lying, manipulative fuckboy—see how that goes for you." His smirk lingers as he leans forward again, voice dropping just slightly. "You think she'll believe you?"

Jungkook stiffens at that and Jaehyun doesn't miss it.

"You got any proof?" he continues smoothly like he knows he has the upper hand here. "Because without it, you're just some desperate guy throwing baseless accusations."

Jungkook grits his teeth, his pulse pounding so hard in his ears that he barely hears the low chuckle Jaehyun lets out next.

"Y/n's known me for, what? A couple of weeks now?" Jaehyun continues. "And I've been nothing but a sweet, funny, cooperative assignment partner." He shrugs.

"So what do you think is more likely? That she'll believe me, the guy who's actually been good to her, or you, the guy seething in the corner, throwing accusations like a jealous little kid?"

Jungkook stands frozen, his blood simmering. Because as much as he wants to fight it, as much as he hates to admit it, Jaehyun's words are getting to him.

Because how is he actually going to convince you?

How is he supposed to make you see the truth, that Jaehyun isn't who you think he is? That beneath all the easy smiles and effortless charm, he's just another predator looking for his next game? How is he supposed to prove it when he has nothing to back up his accusations?

Sure, he heard everything from Taehyung—but that's all there is to it. And if Jaehyun hasn't done anything wrong, if he hasn't pulled anything shady, hasn't let his mask slip even once in front of you, then what reason do you have to believe Jungkook? Why would you take his word over Jaehyun's?

"You know..." Jaehyun hums, dragging Jungkook from his spiraling thoughts. "If I were you, I'd be a little more worried about myself right now." He pauses for a beat, letting the weight of his next words settle in before he drops them like a grenade.

"Imagine if Y/n found out about your feelings for her."

Jungkook's entire body goes still. His stomach twists violently, his breath stalling in his throat. He blinks, trying to process, trying to breathe, but it's like Jaehyun's words wrap around his lungs and squeeze, choking the air from his system.

He feels stripped bare, exposed in a way he never has before, like Jaehyun just ripped open a wound he didn't even know was visible. "How did you—"

Jaehyun lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, it's so fucking obvious." he drawls, his smirk widening as he watches Jungkook with a smug expression like he can see the panic seeping into his bones.

"Think Y/n will be pleased to know that the guy she's been living with is, what, obsessed with her?" His voice is teasing, but his words slice like a blade. "That he's been pining after her this whole time?" He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Man, that's gotta be mad awkward for her."

Jungkook feels his stomach drop.

No. No, you can't know.

You can't. Because if you did, if you ever realized the truth about the way he feels, it would ruin everything.

He's spent months burying it, shoving it down so deep it's almost suffocating—because he knows. And even though it's painful to admit, even though it eats away at him in the quiet moments when you're close but never close enough, he knows exactly where he stands in your life.

Just a roommate. Just a friend. Nothing more.

Living with you has been one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and he's never wanted to risk that. Not when you trust him so effortlessly. Not when you're so comfortable around him.

He needs you to keep looking at him the way you always have—not with wariness, not with hesitation, not with the painful realization that the person you've trusted all this time has been hiding something from you.

Because what if you pull away?

What if you start second-guessing every touch, every glance, every effortless moment that once felt so natural? What if you hesitate before leaning into him like you always do?

What if you stop walking into his room like it's your own, like you don't need permission, like you belong there just as much as he does?

What if you stop asking him for the little things—the things he's always loved doing for you? Testing out your makeup, dragging him into your random tiktoks, even though he's hopelessly awkward with them, handing him your phone and making him take a hundred pictures until you finally find the one.

All those tiny, insignificant moments that have come to mean everything to him.

What if you stop looking at him like he's your friend—like he's your safe place—and start looking at him like he's something else?

Something he was never supposed to be.

What if he loses the little piece of you he's been holding onto all this time? What if his feelings jeopardize everything?

"Oh hey Kook, you're back." Your voice cuts through the storm of thoughts threatening to pull him under, snapping him back to reality. His head jerks up, eyes instantly finding you as you step out of the bathroom, drying your hands.

Jungkook's eyes sting, a sharp, unwelcome pressure settling in his chest, like a dagger wedged right in the center of his heart. But somehow, out of sheer necessity, he forces himself to regain his composure for a fleeting moment.

He watches as you move so effortlessly, so unaware, casually making your way to the coffee table before settling beside Jaehyun, as if nothing has changed. As if the ground beneath him hasn't just shifted.

"Yeah... I... I'm back." His voice comes out steadier than he expects, but the hesitation lingers. His gaze flickers towards Jaehyun, who's now focused on his laptop, acting completely indifferent. But that smirk—that stupid smirk—still lingers on his lips, like he's utterly pleased with the way everything played out before you arrived.

Like he's already won.

When he notices you return to your work, the rhythmic clicking of your keyboard filling the air, he takes it as his cue to retreat to his room.

Closing the door behind him, Jungkook throws his bag onto the bed and lets out the loudest sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as he presses his fingers against his temples.

God, he feels like he's stranded in the middle of nowhere.

That conversation with Jaehyun has left him shaken and probably extremely disoriented. Because now, he's trapped—caught between two unbearable choices.

On one hand, he has to warn you. He can't just sit back and watch as Jaehyun plays whatever twisted game he's playing. But on the other hand, he can't risk you finding out about his feelings because he would rather die than jeopardize everything between the two of you.

But even though his own emotions feel insignificant compared to your safety, compared to protecting you from someone like Jaehyun, the fear still gnaws at him.

You live with him, for fuck's sake.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel pressured around him, for you to start walking on eggshells around him.

He exhales deeply, slipping off his glasses before collapsing onto the mattress, an arm draped over his eyes. For a few moments, he stays like that, willing himself to silence the thoughts swirling in his mind.

Then—faint but distinct—the sound of the front door closing cuts through the quiet. His eyes snap open. Did Jaehyun leave?

Pushing himself off the bed, he moves towards the door, stepping out into the living room. His gaze lands on you almost instantly as he watches you clear up the coffee table, gathering your books and laptop.

"Did Jaehyun leave?" he asks softly grabbing your attention as you glance up, adjusting your things in your arms before offering a soft smile. "Oh, yeah. He just left."

Jungkook swallows, standing still for a beat too long.

Maybe he shouldn't let Jaehyun's words get to him. Maybe he's overthinking it because shouldn't he at least try? Shouldn't he say something? If nothing else, shouldn't he talk to you about it, regardless of his feelings for you?

You'd understand that, wouldn't you? You'd see it for what it is—just concern, just a friend looking out for you.

Right?

"Hey, Y/n..." Jungkook starts, taking a hesitant step closer. You hum in acknowledgment, making your way towards your room to put your things away. He follows quietly, maintaining a careful distance, his pulse drumming in his ears.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, what's up?" you ask, placing your things on your desk before turning around to see him standing by your door, his posture tense and his expression troubled. "What's wrong?" you ask, your voice instinctively softening.

Jungkook exhales sharply, his eyes darting everywhere across the room except your face. "Um..." His hands curl into loose fists at his sides, like he's bracing himself. He's trying so hard to formulate whatever he wants to say, in a way that won't sound completely weird.

"Do you... do you trust Jaehyun?" he finally asks, his voice careful, but he can already see the confusion flicker across your face, the way you tilt your head slightly, the way your lips part as if you're waiting for him to clarify—because surely, you must have misheard him. "Do I trust Jaehyun?" you repeat, blinking.

Jungkook closes his eyes, the voices in his head getting louder and louder, and suddenly, the words are tumbling out if his mouth before he can stop them. "Yeah, like... um... you know, Jaehyun's a guy and... and like I said before, he's just so comfortable around you, and... I was just wondering—"

"Where is this coming from?" you interject, your eyes narrowing slightly. "It's just..." He inhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm worried about you because Jaehyun... he seems weird and I... I don't really trust him."

Fuck.

Why does he sound so wrong right now? He's trying his best to be rational, to not sound invasive, to not make it seem like he's overstepping. But every word that leaves his mouth feels off, like he's fumbling through a minefield, one misstep away from ruining everything.

Your lips part slightly, and you blink at him, utterly bewildered. "Kook, I'm not sure what you're trying to imply, but Jae's just a classmate and my assignment partner. That's it." Your voice remains patient, steady, but the confusion is unmistakable.

"And I get that you're worried... probably because, um, he's a guy, I guess?" You exhale softly, shaking your head, but there's no bite to your words. "But trust me, Kook. I know how to take care of myself." You're not defensive. You're not brushing him off. You're genuinely hoping your words reach him, that they ease whatever is twisting inside him.

Standing here, looking at him, the only conclusion you can draw is that Jungkook thinks Jaehyun has some weird intentions with you. And that's valid, you suppose—guys can be creepy, and you know Jungkook is just looking out for you.

But after spending so much time with Jaehyun, you've never once felt uncomfortable around him. Never noticed anything strange. So right now, this conversation barely makes any sense to you.

But then, something suddenly clicks.

You remember that conversation with Jungkook a few nights ago, when you were walking back from the diner, how he had casually, but pointedly, inquired about Jaehyun and made a comment about him getting a little too comfortable around the apartment.

So maybe... that's what's bothering him. Maybe Jaehyun's constant presence is just irritating him.

"Look..." you start again, offering a small, understanding smile. "if this is about him hanging around the apartment too much, I promise, I can always—"

"It's not about that." Jungkook cuts in quickly, shaking his head and your brows furrow slightly. "Then what is it about?"

"I just..." He exhales harshly, jaw clenching. "Y/n, I don't trust Jaehyun." he says again, but this time there's more certainty but Jungkook can tell you're still not catching what he's trying so hard to tell you.

You on the other hand, let out a quiet sigh because you get why he's saying this—you really do. But at the same time, you need him to understand that there's nothing to worry about.

"Kook..." you start gently. "I don't know why you feel that way, but I promise you, Jaehyun hasn't done anything weird."

Jungkook's stomach twists.

"I know guys can be creepy sometimes..." you continue, offering him a small, reassuring smile, "But Jaehyun isn't like that. We're really good friends, and I trust him."

You trust Jaehyun.

Jungkook barely breathes.

This—this is exactly what he was afraid of.

Because from where he's standing, it looks like Jaehyun has already sunk his claws into you, already manipulated you into thinking he's someone he clearly isn't. And if Jungkook pushes any further, if he insists, if he prods too much, it's only going to make him look bad.

It's going to backfire. It's going to make him look like the jealous, possessive friend who can't stand the idea of you being close to another guy.

And he can't afford that.

"I... I know that..." he stammers, pulse hammering against his ribs. "But, Y/n, he's a guy, and—" he still tries but you cut him off again. "And what?" you ask softly.

He's a fuckboy, and he probably just wants to sleep with you.

The words sit heavy on the tip of his tongue, pressing against his teeth, desperate to spill out—but he can't.

Not when you're looking at him like that. Not when you so clearly trust Jaehyun.

Jungkook feels his palms growing clammy while his chest tightens with frustration, with something deeper, something almost suffocating. God, he wants you to understand. He needs you to understand.

But how can he make you see it when every word he wants to say will only make him sound irrational? How can he explain when you're looking at him with those soft, patient eyes, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside him?

"Kook, please." you murmur, shaking your head with a quiet laugh, like you're trying to put him at ease. Your voice is so warm, so gentle, but completely, utterly oblivious. "I really appreciate your concern, I do. But trust me on this, okay? Jae's a good guy."

You really don't see it, do you?

"I'm really thankful that you decided to reach out to me." you add, sincerity lacing every word. "But you're overthinking it, okay? So just... drop it, alright?"

You offer him another soft, patient smile. A smile that tells him you don't understand. A smile that tells him you think he's just being protective. A smile that makes his stomach churn because he sees it now... how easily Jaehyun has slipped past your defenses, how easily he's convinced you.

And Jungkook hates it.

But what can he do?

"Come on, let's have dinner." You say, effortlessly dropping the subject as you walk past him, gently patting his shoulder on the way.

But Jungkook stays where he is, frozen in place and he can't help but feel utterly defeated.

Days slip by after that conversation, and eventually, it fades from your mind.

You don't think about it much after that night—after all, Jungkook meant well. He always does. And in an effort to ease his concerns, you'd casually convinced Jaehyun to start working with you in the library instead of your apartment. It wasn't a big deal since it didn't change much for you.

Jungkook, on the other hand, notices immediately.

Jaehyun's presence in the apartment had significantly decreased, and he couldn't help but regret bringing the whole subject up. Because now, you're still meeting Jaehyun—just somewhere else. Somewhere he can't see. Somewhere he can't hear the way Jaehyun talks to you, or watch for any subtle red flags.

It's frustrating. Irrational, maybe. But Jungkook can't shake the feeling that Jaehyun is just too good at keeping up a friendly act.

But apart from that, thankfully, despite everything, things between you and Jungkook remain unchanged. You don't seem to think he was being weird or overstepping that night. You're still just as comfortable with him as ever.

Like right now, you're nestled beside him on the couch, stealing his nachos while your eyes remain fixed on the TV screen as "Attack On Titan" plays and even though you usually don't care much for anime, something about this one has intrigued you enough to sit through multiple episodes today.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is watching you more than the screen, quietly amused at how you keep shifting closer, your brows furrowed in deep concentration as you try very hard to make sense of what's happening.

He finds it endlessly endearing when you take an interest in the things he likes. Like the time you asked him to teach you Super Smash Bros. (only to suck so badly that he actually felt bad winning against you), or the time you spent an entire afternoon trying to solve a basic 3x3 rubik's cube, getting progressively more pissed off until he just scrambled it back up and pretended you were close.

Right now, your heart pounds as you grip the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the screen, watching in horror as Eren desperately struggles to save Armin from getting eaten by the Titan. "Please don't tell me one of them's about to die right now..." you whisper, half-hiding your face behind your hands, dreading the answer.

"Just keep watching." Jungkook murmurs beside you, eyes now fixed on the television as he pops a nacho inside his mouth.

Onscreen, Eren, still trapped inside the Titan's mouth, summons all his remaining strength to hurl Armin onto the rooftop—saving him from the jaws of death. Your breath catches in your throat, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Maybe—just maybe—Eren will find a way out too.

And then, the scene continues to unfold as Eren continues to talk and slowly reaches his arm out but—

The Titan's jaws snap shut.

"PAUSE! PAUSE!" you shriek, lunging for the remote, fingers fumbling as you mash the button in sheer panic. The screen freezes mid-frame, blood splattered in the air, the horror frozen in time. Your stomach twists as you turn to Jungkook, eyes pleading. "Jungkook, please tell me Eren is not about to die right now. PLEASEEE."

Jungkook leans back against the couch, exhaling like this is some tragic burden he's forced to carry. Of course he knows what happens next. He's a veteran at this point—he's rewatched this exact scene countless times but when his gaze meets yours, they're heavy with what you assume is sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n... but Eren dies here."

Your stomach plummets. "What?"

Jungkook nods with a sad smile. "Yeah. This is one of the biggest plot twists in anime history. They made him seem like the main character, but it was all just a setup for Armin to take over."

You stare at him, mind reeling. "I—what? But—Eren... he can't just die like that!"

Jungkook sighs dramatically, dragging a hand through his hair. "I know, right? It's brutal. But the whole story was actually Armin's from the beginning. Since he always wanted to see the ocean and all, from here on out, it's about him trying to avenge Eren." he explains.

You sag against the couch, hands tangling in your hair as a groan of devastation leaves your lips. "This is insane. I can't believe Eren just dies like this."

"Yeah. It sucks." Jungkook sighs and you're too deep in mourning to notice the way the corners of his lips twitch and the way he bites his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

Then, just as your grief starts to settle in, Jungkook reaches for the remote and resumes the episode. With a deep breath, you sit up straighter, drawn back into the story despite yourself.

Eren is somehow inside the Titan's stomach, floating among the grotesque remains of those who were devoured before him. He's shaking, eyes wide with horror, talking to himself as memories flash before his eyes. For a moment, confusion flickers through you. Wait—he's still alive?

The screen goes dark for a split second.

And then—

A monstrous arm bursts through the Titan's mouth, the sheer force sending the creature staggering forward. A sickening, gurgling sound rips through the air as the Titan's entire body begins to convulse, its back bulging grotesquely before—

BOOM.

A violent explosion of steam and blood erupts, and through the thick smoke, another Titan emerges—

A Titan that looks oddly familiar.

Your jaw drops and your entire brain short-circuits.

"WAIT, HOLD ON—" You practically leap off the couch, eyes glued still to the screen. "IS THAT—OH MY GOD—IS EREN A—"

Jungkook loses it. The absolute glee in his laughter is sickening as he throws his head back, body shaking as he cackles, completely and utterly entertained by your reaction.

And you? You seethe.

"YOU LIED TO ME?!" You whip your head towards him, betrayal written all over your face. Before you even process what you're doing, your hand finds the nearest couch pillow.

SMACK.

"Y/N, wait—"

"YOU LET ME THINK EREN DIED—" SMACK-SMACK-SMACK.

"BUT HE'S A TITAN NOW?!" SMACK-SMACK.

"HOW DARE YOU—"

Jungkook is laughing so hard that he's struggling to dodge your relentless attacks. He can barely catch his breath, eyes squeezed shut as he tries (and fails) to shield himself. He just couldn't help himself, your reactions are just too priceless.

"Y/N—wait—" he chokes out between laughs, trying to scoot away from you, but your vengeance is swift and unrelenting. And then—

It happens so fast.

Jungkook shifts to dodge another one of your swings, but his foot catches on the edge of the rug below, and in one ungraceful misstep, he stumbles—hard. Before you even realize what's happening, the momentum pushes you backward, and in the next second you land against the couch with a startled gasp, the pillow slipping from your fingers, and Jungkook falls forward—

Right on top of you.

Your breath hitches, the world around you shrinking into the mere inches that separate you from Jungkook.

For a moment, neither of you move as his hands remain planted firmly on either side of your head, caging you in, while his chest hovers just above yours—close enough that you can feel the residual warmth radiating off him, but not close enough to touch.

Your eyes lock, wide and unblinking, both of you equally startled by the sudden shift in proximity.

Jungkook swallows hard, his throat bobbing, and he can almost hear the erratic pounding of his heart, the violent drumming echoing through his entire system, reverberating in his fingertips, in his spine, in the very air between you.

And you?

You gulp, pulse stammering in your system as a strange warmth curls in your chest, spreading like wildfire.

Has Jungkook always looked this good?

Because right now, with the way his dark hair falls messily over his forehead, with the way his lips are parted ever so slightly, he looks breathtaking.

And for some reason, the sight of him above you, his body framing yours, his scent wrapping around you like something dangerous, something intoxicating... has your stomach twisting into an unrecognizable knot, your chest doing peculiar things you don't quite know how to name.

You're not even thinking straight when your gaze unconsciously flickers from Jungkook's eyes to his lips.

And he notices—immediately.

For some inexplicable reason, his tongue darts out, running over his lower lip in a slow, almost instinctive motion. The simple action sends a shiver through you, and before you can stop yourself, your breath stutters out and almost in perfect synchrony, you both exhale.

Your body doesn't move—doesn't even attempt to push him off. And the strangest part? You don't want to. There's something about the way he's looking at you, hovering over you, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes your pulse stammer.

Jungkook, on the other hand, feels utterly lost. What the hell is this? Why can't he move? If he had any shred of sanity left, he should be pushing himself up, putting space between you, pretending like this never happened. But he doesn't. He can't.

And why... why are you looking at him like that?

Suddenly—

The sharp, shrill chime of the doorbell slices through the air like a knife, shattering the spell in an instant. The tension between you snaps like a rubber band, leaving behind only the rapid pounding of your hearts.

Almost instinctively, Jungkook jerks upright, pushing himself away while you scramble to sit up on the couch.

"That must be—"

"I guess that's—"

You both speak at the same time, voices overlapping, only to fall into an awkward silence. Cheeks flushed, breaths still uneven, you both pointedly avoid each other's eyes, pretending as if the last few seconds never happened.

"That must be the pizza." you finally say, forcing your voice to sound normal and Jungkook nods quickly, still refusing to meet your eyes. "I'll... I'll go get it." he informs and before you can respond, he's already turning on his heel, practically fleeing towards the front door.

As soon as he disappears through the doorway, you sink back into the couch, exhaling a shaky breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Your hand drifts to your chest, pressing against the frantic beat of your wild heart, like a caged animal trying to break free.

You close your eyes for a moment, but it does nothing to erase the image seared into your mind because all you can see is the way he looked on top of you, the way he looked into your eyes, the way he licked his lips.

You have no idea what this feeling is, why the proximity has left you breathless, why your knees feel weak, or why your spine feels like something dangerously close to jelly.

Your fingers twitch against your chest, pressing harder, as if you could physically restrain the rampage inside you, as if you could will your body into forgetting the way he looked at you.

But it's no use.

Jungkook returns with two large boxes of pizza and a couple of soda cans while you keep your eyes fixed on the screen where Attack on Titan still plays, except the storyline passes by without meaning, your mind too preoccupied to register any of it.

Jungkook nibbles on his lower lip as he walks closer, setting the boxes down on the coffee table before hesitantly lowering himself onto the couch. He keeps a noticeable distance between you, his posture slightly stiff.

God, he hopes he didn't make you uncomfortable. Prays you won't start treating him differently after this. It was truly an accident, except for the part where he just stayed there, hovering over you instead of moving.

Maybe he should have moved. Maybe he should have reacted faster.

He's spiraling.

"That smells good." you say suddenly breaking the awkwardness before reaching for one of the boxes and flipping it open. Casually, you pull out a slice and hand it to him, like you always do. "Here."

Jungkook hesitates for half a second, his eyes flicking to your face, but when he sees that there's no awkwardness, no tension in your expression... just warmth and normalcy, relief washes over him like a tide.

"Thank you." he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small, grateful smile as he takes the slice from your hand.

You pull out a slice for yourself, and the two of you settle into eating, shifting your attention back to the anime playing on the screen. The silence between you isn't heavy, but Jungkook still feels the sudden urge to fill it.

"How's your assignment coming along?" he asks, taking a bite of his pizza. "Oh, we're almost done. We should be able to submit it next week." you nod, reaching for a soda.

Jungkook hums, chewing thoughtfully. Knowing that you're almost done with the assignment eases something in his chest. Maybe once it's submitted, you won't have to spend as much time with Jaehyun but before he can say anything, you let out an exhausted sigh.

"I genuinely can't believe this semester is finally ending. But honestly? I never want to relive it again." you shudder dramatically, cracking open your soda can and taking a long sip making Jungkook chuckle beside you. "Yeah, I get that. It's been brutal."

"What are your plans for the break?" you ask suddenly, turning towards him. "Oh, I'm heading to Busan. My parents have been on my case about visiting." he answers, shaking his head with a small smile and you snicker. "Sounds like they miss you."

"Miss me? Please." He scoffs. "The second I walk through the door, my mom's gonna be like, 'Oh, Jungkookie, since you're here, can you fix the WiFi? The TV remote stopped working too. Oh, and the washing machine is making a weird noise.' They just miss getting things repaired for free."

You shake your head, amused. "Well, don't blame her. You really are the most handy IT guy. You're always fixing things around our apartment too." Your voice softens slightly at the end, making Jungkook glance at you for a beat longer than necessary.

"Yeah, that... that's true. But I swear, just because I study computer science, my family thinks I can hack into the government or... I don't know... bring back deleted WhatsApp messages or something."

That, for some reason, makes you laugh harder than you intend to. "Wait... has someone actually asked you to do that?" you gasp between giggles. "Oh yeah." he breathes out, proceeding to take a sip of his soda. "My aunt. She genuinely believed I could recover messages from two years ago." he sighs.

"Plus, my sister's been dying to test out her new designs on me." he adds casually. Right — Jungkook’s older sister was an insanely talented tattoo artist. “Oh right, I forgot you’re her muse." you giggle, nodding toward his inked-up forearms.

It’s always fascinated you, the contrast between Jungkook’s usual nerdy demeanor and the bold, intricate sleeve that tells a completely different story. The first time you saw it, you couldn’t wrap your head around how someone like him could be covered in tattoos like that.

But then he told you the story of how his sister first practiced her art on him, how that one small design spiraled into something bigger, how he realized he loved the way it looked and the way it felt like carrying a piece of her work with him everywhere he went.

And to be brutally honest, you think it’s one of the hottest things about him because you’ve caught yourself staring more times than you can count — when he’s slicing vegetables while he's cooking or when he's using the screwdriver to fix something or when he stretches and the ink shifts across his skin like it’s alive.

Yeah, it’s impossible not to look.

"What about you, though?" he asks after a moment, shifting slightly on the couch to face you better. "What are your plans for the break?"

"I'm going back to Ilsan too. I miss my dad." You exhale softly, a small, fond smile gracing your lips.

Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, a small smile tugging at his lips. And for a moment, the two of you lapse into silence, but this time, it feels comfortable, like neither of you are skirting around something unspoken.

And soon enough, just like that, you're back to your usual self, tossing question after question at Jungkook, trying (and failing) to navigate whatever the hell is happening on the screen.

“I swear to god, if one more random character turns out to be a Titan, I’m throwing this pizza straight at your face.” you grumble, taking an unnecessarily aggressive bite of your slice and all Jungkook can do is bite back his smile, the kind that threatens to split his face in two, because do you even realize how ridiculously, unfairly cute you are right now?

With his afternoon class just half an hour away, Jungkook remains perched on the kitchen island, absently chewing on an apple while his eyes stay glued to his phone as he watches a video titled: "Can You Really Cook an Egg on a PS5?"

The answer, apparently, is yes—if you block all the vents, run Elden Ring on max settings, and let it overheat to the point of near combustion. The guy in the video is currently cracking an egg onto the console, looking way too excited as the edges start turning white and Jungkook squints.

There's no way that's safe.

Just as he takes another bite of his apple, the doorbell rings. He blinks, reluctantly pausing the video (he needs to see how this ends) before standing up. You're still in the shower, so with a sigh, he makes his way towards the front door to see who it is.

With the half-eaten apple still in his hand, he swings the door open, only to frown instantly because the person standing on the other side is probably not even the last person he wants to see right now.

"Why are you here?" Jungkook blurts out, not bothering to hide the irritation on his face or in his tone.

Jaehyun merely rolls his eyes before stepping inside uninvited, his shoulder deliberately bumping against Jungkook's on the way in. "Where's Y/n?" he asks, like Jungkook is some receptionist.

Jungkook scoffs at the sheer audacity but begrudgingly shuts the door behind him. "I asked you a question." he says, keeping his voice firm, his annoyance barely contained.

Jaehyun exhales dramatically, like Jungkook is just so exhausting to deal with. "None of your business." he says, shamelessly striding towards the couch and plopping down on it like he owns the place.

Jungkook glares, grip tightening around his apple. He considers throwing it at Jaehyun's head but ultimately decides against it as he crosses his arms over his chest.

At least, for now.

Just then, the bathroom door creaks open, and you step out, towel wrapped around your damp hair and your huge bathrobe cinched around your frame. You move towards your room but pause mid-step when you spot Jaehyun in the living room and Jungkook standing stiffly nearby.

"Jae?" you ask, furrowing your brows as you adjust the towel on your head. "What are you doing here?"

Jaehyun's lips pull into a lazy smile. "Since we're turning in the assignment today, I thought we could go together. You know... to Mr. Jung's cabin."

Right. Today's the deadline.

But you distinctly remember telling Jaehyun that you'd meet him on campus, so seeing him here unannounced throws you off a bit. You glance at Jungkook, and his expression tells you instantly that he's not quite pleased seeing Jaehyun here.

"Well... I thought I'd meet you directly on campus." you say, hesitant and Jaehyun shrugs. "I know, but I thought it'd be nice if we walked there together." He says, leaning back against the couch.

You press your lips together, debating. It's not that big of a deal, you suppose.

"Fine." you breathe out. "Give me a few minutes. I'll go get ready." you inform and as you turn towards your room, you cast Jungkook a small, almost apologetic smile, hoping Jaehyun's sudden presence isn't annoying him too much.

The moment your door clicks shut, Jungkook steps closer, arms still crossed over his chest. His gaze locks onto Jaehyun with barely concealed irritation.

"Why bother coming here when she already said she'd meet you on campus?" Jungkook spits out, his voice edged with barely restrained irritation. "At this point, you're just looking for excuses to show up here."

Jaehyun exhales through his nose, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he leans back against the couch. "Damn, dude..." he drawls, stretching his arms behind his head. "You're not even gonna try to hide how much you hate me, huh?" His tone is amused, almost mocking like Jungkook's irritation is just entertainment for him.

"You know... you really impress me." Jaehyun continues with a smirk, and though Jungkook isn't sure what Jaehyun is about to say, he can already tell it's something ridiculous and meant purely to get under his skin.

"I mean, I get it—my existence near the girl you're in love with bothers you. That much is obvious." Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "But honestly? I gotta give you credit, man."

Jungkook's brows knit together, irritation flickering into confusion. "What the fuck are you saying?" he grits out, keeping his voice low.

Jaehyun exhales, shaking his head like he's genuinely impressed. "Living with her must be a real challenge, huh?" His voice drops. "Knowing you'll probably never have a shot with her, but still having to see her every single day? Watching her, hoping—pathetically, might I add—that one day she'll just... what? Wake up and suddenly fall for you?"

Jungkook's grip tightens around the apple in his hand, and he's sure that if he squeezes any harder, it'll burst apart in his palm. But before he can put an end to whatever nonsense is coming out of Jaehyun's mouth, the bastard pushes forward.

"And to make matters worse, there's another guy in the picture. And it just kills you, doesn't it?" Jaehyun leans forward now, elbows now resting on his knees, his voice dripping with arrogance. "The fact that you can't do anything about it. The fact that you think I'm stealing something from you." He scoffs, tilting his head.

"But let's be real, Jungkook. Even if I weren't in the picture, do you really think you'd ever have a chance?"

Jungkook's breath hitches. His skin is burning, his blood is boiling. "Just shut the fu—"

"You really think someone like Y/n would ever like someone like you?" Jaehyun interrupts smoothly, his scoff laced with pure condescension. "She's probably just nice to you because she feels bad for you. Because you're... well, you."

Jungkook sees red. His vision blurs at the edges, his patience fraying thread by thread. How dare this guy walk all over him like this? He parts his lips to retaliate, but Jaehyun just keeps going, reclining back into the couch with that infuriating smirk of his.

"She keeps you around because it's convenient. Because you're her roommate. She includes you in her content because she doesn't want you to feel left out." He exhales a laugh, shaking his head like he finds the whole thing funny.

Then, he levels Jungkook with a slow, smug grin. "You're like her pet nerd, man. That's honestly just sad."

At that moment, something in Jungkook shifts. His expression, once hardened with anger, flickers, just for a fraction of a second. The fire behind his glare dulls and morphs into something else, something far more unsettling. Like a slow, sinking drop in his stomach, a quiet, insidious doubt creeping in where it has no right to be.

Because as much as he doesn't want to let Jaehyun's words get to him, as much as he's always told himself that whatever Jaehyun says is just meant to provoke him, somehow, this—this—feels different. It doesn't feel like empty taunting or a cheap attempt to piss him off.

It feels like the truth.

A truth Jungkook never wanted to consider.

His grip on the apple tightens again, but his pulse wavers. He wants to scoff, to roll his eyes, to tell Jaehyun to shut the hell up and get out. But the words just won't come out. Because somewhere, buried in the venom of Jaehyun's condescending smirk, in the way he speaks like he knows something Jungkook doesn't, a seed of doubt takes root.

Do you really feel bad for him? Do you really only include him so he won't feel left out? Is he just... convenient to you because you live together?

The thoughts come fast, scraping against his skull like nails on glass. It's stupid, it's ridiculous—it has to be. He knows you. Thinks the world of you. You're the last person to be that cruel.

But it doesn't take much, does it?

Not for someone like Jungkook... someone who has spent his entire life standing on the outskirts, watching as the world moved past him like he was never meant to be a part of it.

Someone who has always been the quietest voice in the room, easily drowned out, easily overlooked. The boy who was more comfortable with equations and codes than with people, who found solace in screens or pages rather than conversations. The boy who never quite fit, who never quite mattered in the way others did.

It doesn't take much to convince someone like himthat someone like you—only keeps him around out of obligation. That maybe every laugh, every kind word, every inclusion was never because you wanted him there, but because you felt like you had to.

That maybe, in the grand scheme of things, he is nothing more than a convenience... a default presence in your life simply because he happens to live under the same roof.

And that? That thought hurts in a way he never expected. It coils in his chest, sinking deep into the cracks of insecurities he thought he had long buried.

Jungkook stands there, unmoving like a statue carved from the weight of his own thoughts as Jaehyun's words continue to ricochet inside his skull. Each syllable lands like a carefully aimed strike, while Jaehyun?

Jaehyun just watches him with that same smug, self-satisfied smirk, like he's basking in the sight of Jungkook's silence. Like he's thriving off the lack of a response, off the way Jungkook has been rendered utterly speechless.

The sound of your door unlocking shatters the silence.

Jungkook flinches, snapping back to reality just in time to see you step out, your hair now dry, your bag slung effortlessly over your shoulder. You're wearing a fitted top and a denim skirt that ends just at the middle of your thighs—casual, effortless, and yet, somehow, still unfairly perfect.

Your eyes immediately land on Jaehyun as you stride towards the couch, completely oblivious to the wreckage he's left in Jungkook's wake. "Let's head out?" Jaehyun asks, standing up from the couch with an easy smile and you nod before turning towards the door.

"Bye, Kook." you say, your voice soft as you smile sweetly at him. "Have a good day. I'll see you later."

You walk past him without a second thought, slipping into your shoes as Jaehyun follows behind you.

Jungkook turns to see you both at the door way and hears you both murmuring, something quiet, something casual, but it barely registers because he's still drowning. Still trapped beneath the weight of words that shouldn't have mattered but somehow do.

Jaehyun lets out an airy chuckle, throwing Jungkook one last look, before stepping outside with you.

And just like that, the door clicks shut, leaving Jungkook standing there, adrift in the silence, drowning in thoughts he never wanted to have, thoughts that now refuse to leave.

Because no matter how much he wants to shake them off, the seed has already been planted. And the worst part?

He's afraid it might have been growing there all along.

"I can't believe that stupid assignment is finally fucking over." Jimin exhales, shaking his head as he leads the way out of the teacher's lounge with you, Jaehyun and Namjoon following closely behind after just turning the assignment in.

"But seriously, it's insane how this semester is already wrapping up. Like, what do you mean we have finals in two weeks?" He groans, running a hand through his hair as you all make your way down the hallway.

"On the bright side, we've got our break coming up." Jaehyun chimes in, his hands tucked lazily into his pockets and Namjoon nods at that. "Yeah, and even though it's just a month, it's definitely needed." He sighs, cracking his neck, already feeling the exhaustion creeping in.

"Why don't we all grab something to eat together? It's Friday, and I think we deserve to blow off some steam after that absolute nightmare of an assignment. Plus... I'm starving." Jimin suddenly suggests, flashing a sheepish smile as he falls into step beside you.

"Honestly? Same." you nod, absentmindedly rubbing your stomach before glancing over at Jaehyun and Namjoon. "You guys in?"

"Yeah, I don't mind." Namjoon shrugs, stretching his arms behind his head. Jaehyun tilts his head slightly, as if contemplating, before nodding. "Yeah, sure. But real question—what are we eating?"

Jimin hums, tapping his chin in thought before his eyes light up. "I know this hotpot place downtown. Why don't we go there?" he suggests, glancing at the three of you who instantly give him approving nods.

Soon enough, the evening slips by as the four of you spend time together in the cozy hotpot restaurant, savoring both the food and the easy conversation. But eventually, with plates emptied and bellies full, it's time to part ways.

Namjoon is the first to leave, heading straight for the subway station with a casual wave. Jimin, meanwhile, slides into the backseat of his cab, rolling down the window to glance at you. "You sure you don't wanna come with?" he asks, brows raised.

You shake your head with a small smile. "It's alright, Chim. I'll walk."

Jaehyun, who was just in the middle of booking his own cab, quickly shoves his phone back into his pocket. "Then I'll walk with you." he offers. "Oh, you really don't have to." you say quickly, but he just shrugs, with a grin.

"Well, okay then, you guys figure it out. I'm heading out." Jimin leans back into his seat, already getting comfortable. "Y/n text me when you get home!" he calls out just before the car pulls away, leaving you alone with Jaehyun on the dimly lit sidewalk.

You turn to him with a pointed look and swat his arm. "Hey, you should've just booked your cab."

Jaehyun barely flinches, his expression entirely unbothered. "And let you walk home alone? Yeah, no thanks," he says easily, already taking a few steps forward.

You roll your eyes but fall into step beside him, the two of you blending into the steady flow of people weaving through the bustling streets—couples ducking into cafés, groups of friends spilling out of restaurants, neon lights flickering against the pavement.

Jaehyun suddenly smirks. "I gotta admit, I didn't expect working with you to be such a breeze."

You narrow your eyes at him, mirroring his grin. "What's that supposed to mean?" you challenge. "You thought I'd be a bad assignment partner?"

He shrugs, far too relaxed. "Sort of."

Your mouth falls open in mock offense before you swat his arm again. "That's so mean." You laugh, shaking your head, and just then, your eyes suddenly catch on a store display on the other side of the street that makes your heart skip a beat.

It's a toy store, the shelves stacked with colorful puzzles and games, but what truly grabs your attention is the bold sign right outside the entrance—Limited Edition 21x21 Rubik's Cube Available. On Sale Now!

"Oh my god..." you gasp, already changing direction without a second thought while Jaehyun blinks, watching in bewilderment as you suddenly make a beeline for the store. "Hey, uh... Where—"

"Can we make a stop there, please?" You interject, turning to him with an excited smile, practically bouncing on your feet as you point towards the toy store.

"The toy store?" Jaehyun asks, confused. "Yeah! They apparently have the 21x21 rubik's cube in stock—and it's on sale." You turn back towards the store, eyes practically shining. "I have to get it for Kook."

Jaehyun watches you, exasperated, but you don't notice.

Your mind is already elsewhere, thinking about Jungkook and his oddly specific hobby of collecting all kinds of rubik's cubes. You know how badly he's wanted the 21x21 variation—he's grumbled about it enough times, always complaining about how it's out of stock everywhere.

And now that you have a chance to get it for him, there's no way you're passing it up.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, has to fight the urge to groan out loud because are you seriously about to waste time in some toy store just so you can buy a damn rubik's cube for that nerd of a roommate?

This was so not how he had envisioned this walk going.

But before he gets the chance to question you again, he lets the thought go and sighs before lazily following you into the toy store and watching you get all giddy over a stupid rubik's cube.

All for that nerd Jungkook.

The moment you step into the store, your eyes instantly land on exactly what you were looking for. "Oh my god, he's going to love this." you murmur, already picturing Jungkook's reaction.

Jaehyun, however, instantly notices the price of the cube and his eyes widen in disbelief. "You're seriously spending that much... for your roommate?" His tone is incredulous, as if he can't fathom why anyone would go to such lengths.

"Um, yeah." you say nonchalantly, shrugging like it's the most obvious thing in the world. You glance at the price, completely unfazed because you already had a rough idea of how much it would cost.

Jaehyun scoffs, eyebrows raising as he struggles to mask his irritation. "Why, though?" he presses, trying to keep his voice casual. "Just because." you shrug with a smile, picking up a fresh box from the shelf before making your way to the counter without a second thought.

Once you step out of the store, Jaehyun falls back into step beside you, his irritation tucked neatly behind a mask of nonchalance. He decides to keep his focus on you instead, letting you ramble about some ridiculous high school memory.

It makes the walk easier, makes the time pass faster until, before either of you realize it, the familiar sight of your apartment building comes into view.

"Thanks for walking me home, though I hope you know it was completely unnecessary." You turn to Jaehyun with a small smile. He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You really need to stop acting like you're inconveniencing me. It's the least I can do for a friend."

You smile at that, but he's already speaking again. "We are friends, right? I'd hate to think I was just a temporary assignment partner to you." His playful pout makes you laugh. "Of course, we're friends." you assure him, tilting your head.

"Glad to hear it. So don't go pretending like you don't know me the next time we cross paths on campus." he teases. "Wouldn't dream of it." you reply with a giggle. He grins before glancing up at the darkening sky. "Anyway, it's getting late. You should head inside."

"And you should go home." you quip, nudging your chin toward him. Jaehyun exhales, rocking back on his heels. "Yeah, yeah. Well then, I'll see you around."

There's a brief pause before he subtly opens his arms, and you immediately recognize the gesture. Without much thought, you step forward, wrapping your arms around to hug him.

Just a simple parting hug. No big deal.

Jungkook had returned from class nearly three hours ago to an empty apartment. He figured you were still busy with work, but somehow, being alone had only made it worse. His mind kept circling back to that conversation with Jaehyun.

In fact, it never left him. It had followed him all throughout his lecture, clung to the edges of his thoughts like a stubborn stain, looping over and over in the cruelest of ways.

And now, sitting out on the balcony of your shared apartment with a half-empty beer can dangling from his fingers after downing who knows how many before it, the conversation still refuses to let him go.

Jungkook glances down at the empty cans resting on the floor beside his chair and tips his head back with a sigh, staring blankly at the expanse of the night sky, hoping—praying—that maybe if he sits here long enough, the weight in his chest will lift.

But it doesn't.

Because no matter how much he wants to brush it off, Jaehyun's words had cracked something open inside him. Had made him look at something he had never even considered before. Had forced him to question things he had never thought to doubt.

That maybe, to you, he was just an obligation. A convenience. A pet nerd.

He exhales sharply, taking another swig of his beer, but it tastes awful tonight... too bitter, too sharp against his tongue. He scowls at the sensation, shifting in his seat as if the discomfort is something he can physically shake off.

And then suddenly, a faint murmur rises from the street below, breaking through the restless hum in his mind and his gaze flickers downward as he peaks over the railing.

And there you are, walking side by side with Jaehyun down the street and Jungkook instantly freezes.

You're holding onto a large paper bag, but he barely registers it, because all he can focus on is the easy, natural way you move together, the way your head tilts towards Jaehyun as you speak, the way you seem so comfortable with him by your side.

You were with him this whole time?

His grip tightens around the beer can, metal bending slightly under the force.

You submitted the assignment today. The whole reason you were spending time with Jaehyun in the first place, is over. So why are you still hanging out with him? Why are you laughing like that? Why is he walking you home at this hour?

His eyes flicker back to the bag in your hands.

Did you go shopping with him? Is he your shopping partner now? Did you drag him into different stores, let him see the indecisive way you hover over products, let him tease you over your choices? Did he help you pick things out, offer opinions that Jungkook thought were his to give?

It's stupid. So, so stupid. Jungkook knows he's being irrational, knows how miserably unreasonable it is to let something this trivial get under his skin, but god, he just can't help it.

The sick feeling in his stomach festers, spreading like an ache he can't shake off.

His eyes remain fixed on the scene below, watching as you and Jaehyun come to a slow stop in front of the entrance to your apartment building. He finds himself shifting forward, standing to get a better view, even though a part of him hates how this must look, how he must look, lurking on the balcony like some desperate voyeur.

But he just can't look away.

Not when he sees Jaehyun murmuring something to you, not when you giggle at whatever he's saying. And then—

Then you move closer.

Your arms lift, wrapping around Jaehyun in an easy, familiar hug and suddenly, something inside Jungkook snaps.

A sharp, piercing ringing floods his ears, drowning out everything else. His vision blurs at the edges, his throat tightening with something he doesn't want to name. He exhales sharply, chest heaving with the weight of something too much, too sudden, too overwhelming.

And he can't—he can't do this. Can't just stand here and witness whatever's going on between you and Jaehyun.

So before he even fully realizes it, he's spinning on his heels, retreating back inside the apartment, yanking the balcony door shut behind him with a force that rattles the frame.

The glass quivers.

And so does he.

Once Jaehyun leaves, you make your way towards your flat, your fingers tightening around the paper bag as a small, giddy smile tugs at your lips.

Before unlocking the door, you glance down at the bag, already trying to imagine what Jungkook's reaction is going to be when he sees the ridiculously oversized rubik's cube you've bought for him.

You fish out your keys and unlock the door, stepping inside and slipping off your shoes—but the moment you do, something feels... off.

It's too quiet.

No sound from the TV. No faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Not even the rhythmic clicking of his keyboard that usually fills the apartment late into the night. You pause, tilting your head slightly. Is Jungkook already asleep?

That's odd.

Stepping further in, your gaze drifts to the glass balcony door and that's when you spot the multiple beer cans scattered carelessly on the ground beside the familiar plastic chair and a frown tugs at your brows.

Jungkook drinks, sure, but he's never been the one to sit alone and down cans by himself. He always prefers drinking when you're around, and even though his tolerance is high, something about this... him drinking alone, doesn't sit right with you.

You shake off the uneasy feeling and head to your room, placing the paper bag on your nightstand. Maybe tonight isn't the best time to surprise him. If he's drunk, it can wait till morning.

Still, the nagging concern in your chest refuses to settle so you pad across the wooden floor and stop outside his door, softly knocking. "Hey, Kook? Are you asleep?"

Silence.

On most nights, you'd take that as your cue to leave him be, assuming he's already knocked out. But tonight, you hesitate because something about this doesn't feel right. You wait a few moments, debating whether to push further, before slowly and hesitantly turning the doorknob.

"I'm coming in." you warn softly, pushing the door open and your eyes immediately find Jungkook, curled up under the covers, lying on his side with his back turned to you. His shoulders are tense, posture stiff like he's bracing for something.

"Kook?" you call out again gently, but the way he curls in tighter, pulling the blanket up higher over his frame, is enough to tell you he's not asleep. "Hey... what's wrong?" you ask, still lingering by the door, unsure if you should step in or step back. "I saw the beer cans..." you add, hoping it might coax him to talk. "You never drink alone. Did something happen today?"

Under the covers, Jungkook grits his teeth, jaw clenched so tight it aches. He doesn't want to hear your voice right now, not when every syllable feels like salt in a fresh wound. Not when his mind is still replaying the sight of you and Jaehyun.

Not when the bitter taste of the beer still stubbornly sits on his tongue and not when Jaehyun's voice, his words, his taunts are all clawing their way back up to the surface, pressing against the inside of Jungkook's skull until he feels like he might combust.

He knows if he opens his mouth now, something ugly will spill out, something raw and twisted that he doesn't even fully understand himself.

But you're still there. Still standing at the threshold, your worry so palpable it practically seeps into the room. You take the smallest step forward. "Jungkook..." you try again. "You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is... I'm here."

Your voice is a comfort you don't even realize you've become... a warmth he never asked for but somehow clung to, thread by fragile thread, until it wrapped around him like a lifeline.

And that's exactly the problem.

Because comfort breeds hope, and hope is a dangerous thing for someone who's spent too long convincing himself he didn't deserve it in the first place.

Suddenly the sharp sound of his tongue clicking fills the silence, loud enough to make you flinch. "Can you just leave me alone?" he spits and you freeze for a brief moment at his tone. You've never heard Jungkook talk like that.

"I... what?" you ask, confusion laced into your tone. "I just wanted to check—"

"Why do you always act like you're entitled to walk into my room whenever you feel like it?" he snaps, voice raised just enough to sting as he sits up abruptly, sheets pooling at his waist, and when you get a look at his eyes, you're confused. There's something storming behind them... something troubled, something restless, something dangerously close to breaking apart.

"What— I'm— Kook, what... what's wrong?" you stammer, your voice small, fragile against the weight of his glare. He exhales sharply, like the air itself offends him, yanking the sheets off his body with a roughness that startles you as he stands to his feet. "Just get out." he mutters.

And something about the way he says it, the way he looks at you, rubs you the wrong way. You don't know if it's the alcohol talking or if it's pure, unfiltered anger, but if there's one thing you've never done, it's disrespected Jungkook. So why the hell should you stand here and let him tear into you like this, when you have no clue why you deserve this in the first place.

"Excuse me?" Your arms fold across your chest, feet planted firmly into the ground. "What's with the attitude?"

"Attitude?" He lets out a hollow laugh, the kind that doesn't belong to the Jungkook you know. The sound of it makes your stomach turn. His gaze locks onto you, and that's when you see how his eyes glisten but there's no time to process that because he's already speaking again.

"I'm sick of you."

Three words. Brutal and merciless. They hit you like a slap you never saw coming.

"I'm sick of you walking into my room like you own it. I'm sick of being your personal mannequin every time you can't pick a fucking outfit or decide between two pairs of earrings. Sick of you asking for my opinion like my words mean something — like I mean something, when we both know the second you get what you want, I'm invisible again."

Your heart stutters in disbelief, chest tightening with each accusation hurled your way. But Jungkook's just getting started, words spilling faster now, sharper with every breath.

"I'm sick of being your backup plan — the human crutch you lean on whenever it suits you. You only come to me when you need something. Someone to just go along with everything you say. Someone to play your little sidekick in this perfect world of yours." His voice cracks, but he powers through it, jaw clenched so tight you can see the muscle twitch.

"I'm done being your fucking plaything, Y/n."

The air between you turns suffocating, his bitterness clashing against your confusion like a storm building with no place to go.

"Jungkook??" you start, but your voice falters halfway, cracking under the weight of confusion clawing at your throat. "Where... where is this even coming from? Look... I think you're really drunk right now and—"

"Can you just leave?" he interjects with a scoff, running a hand through his already-messy hair before turning his back on you, like the mere act of looking at you is too much to bear. "Go back to Jaehyun." he mutters.

"Maybe he'll help you pick out a new set of nails. Or film a tiktok. Or whatever it is you need to feel relevant today." The jab is low, muttered under his breath, but sharp enough to slice through your already fragile composure.

"What does Jaehyun have to do with any of this?" you demand, voice rising just slightly, the confusion twisting into something bordering on anger. Because none of this makes sense... not the venom in his voice, not the sudden shift in his attitude, and definitely not the way he's acting like you're the villain in some story you didn't even know you were a part of.

"CAN YOU PLEASE JUST LEAVE ??" This time, he practically yells, voice cracking under the weight of his frustration. There's something almost desperate in the way he says it, like he's begging you to go before he loses the last shred of control he has left. Like he knows the alcohol is working overtime, dragging out words he doesn't mean, words he won't be able to take back once they're out in the open.

"No." Your voice is steady, even as your heart pounds in your ears. You step forward, planting yourself firmly in front of him. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck this is all about. Because right now, you sound completely ridiculous." Your hands fly up as you speak, your frustration boiling over.

"Oh, I'm ridiculous?" He lets out a hollow chuckle, one that makes your stomach knot as he turns to face you. "Right. I'm the fucking clown here for actually caring about you, when it's so painfully obvious that the only reason Jaehyun's even nice to you is because he wants to fuck you."

The words hit like a slap, and even Jungkook looks momentarily stunned by how harsh he sounds. But he doesn't take it back. He doesn't soften. Instead, he holds your gaze, daring you to react.

Your lips part, but no words come out at first. There's only that awful, twisting ache in your chest, followed by a low, trembling whisper. "What the hell did you just say?"

"Oh, come on, Y/n." he snaps, throwing his head back, hands planted firmly on his hips like he's trying to hold himself together. "Are you seriously that naive? You actually believe a guy like Jaehyun is just being friendly? You seriously trust him?" The laugh that follows is humorless, dripping with disbelief.

"What is your problem with Jaehyun?" you ask, voice sharper now, anger slowly overtaking the confusion. "I know him better than you, Jungkook. And honestly? It just looks like you have no idea what you're talking about and I'm so tired of you always twisting him into something he's not. It's exhausting."

"Right. Of course." Jungkook's laugh is sharp enough to slice through a bone, and it makes your blood boil. "Of course, you'd say that because I'm the crazy nerd who has no idea what he's talking about while he's your precious friend. So excuse me for actually giving a shit and trying to fucking warn you because god forbid someone who cares about you tries to protect you."

You scoff, disbelief flooding every inch of you. "Do you even realize how insane you sound right now???"

"Right, so now, I'm insane." he laughs again, shaking his head. "You really don't get it, do you? I'm only reliable to you when you want to film some trend for your tiktok page or you need someone to hold the camera for your pictures or... or give you an opinion on your outfit, or help you test out your makeup. That's all I am to you, isn't it? Some idiot you can pull into whatever you want because I'm convenient. Because I'm easy."

The accusation knocks the air clean out of your lungs. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint ringing in your ears... the kind that comes when a blow lands too hard, too fast, leaving no time to brace for impact. You don't know if it's the alcohol swimming in his veins or if there's something deeper unraveling inside him, something that's been building for longer than you realized.

But either way, your mind spins, your eyes sting, your heart stumbles over itself, and all you can do is stare at him, wide-eyed and breathless. "You really think... I'm that shallow?" You whisper, feeling your whole body tremble. "You really believe... that's all you are to me?"

"I don't think, Y/n. I know." The certainty in his voice makes your heart break. "Because let's be honest, Y/n... you're so fucking oblivious. So blind to anything that doesn't fit neatly into your perfect little world. All you see is you... your life, your influencer crap, your curated existence where every outfit, every angle, every caption matters more than the people standing right beside you."

He exhales harshly, running a hand through his hair, frustration dripping from every word. "You never bother to look past what's directly in front of you. If something isn't wrapped up and handed to you in plain sight, it doesn't fucking exist to you. And if anyone tries to warn you or tell you something you don't want to hear, you'll just brush it off like it's noise because you always know best."

He pauses, closing his eyes as his tongue pokes his inner cheek. "So tell me, Y/n. Why the hell am I even standing here, wasting my time, wasting my breath, when I already know exactly how this ends?"

There's a pause... a silence so deafening it drowns out every other sound, leaving nothing but the roar of your own pulse thundering in your ears. Your entire body feels like it's on fire, skin prickling, blood boiling beneath the surface. Your legs threaten to give out, and your chest aches like your heart might splinter apart right there in his room.

Because the sight before you feels like something out of a nightmare — a version of Jungkook you've never seen before. So cruel. So angry. So intent on wounding you in ways you never thought he could.

And knowing this is how he sees you... this twisted version of you he's built inside his head, it makes you sick to your stomach. You can't even recognize yourself in the reflection of his words. You can't recognize him either because in his eyes, you're nothing more than a girl who uses him, a girl who takes and takes and never sees the damage left behind.

You can't even stand to look at him right now.

"Fuck you." your hoarse voice cuts through the air, sharp and trembling all at once, and for the first time all night, they seem to actually land. It's like the phrase itself snaps Jungkook out of the angry haze he's been spiraling in, dragging him harshly back into reality.

And suddenly, the weight of everything he just spewed... every cruel word, every accusation dripping in bitterness, crashes down on him all at once.

His mind was already a mess, thoughts piling up and collapsing under their own weight, and god knows how many cans of beer only poured gasoline over the fire. But now, standing here, watching the way your eyes glisten with heavy tears you're clearly fighting not to let fall — he knows.

He's gone too far.

But it doesn't matter, because you've already turned on your heel, walking out of his room as the door slams so hard behind you that it rattles the frame and Jungkook just stands there... frozen, knowing damn well there's no point in running after you now because the damage is already done.

And maybe, there's no coming back from it.

The minute Jungkook's eyes flutter open, a sharp, splitting pain shoots through his skull, forcing a low groan from his throat. His head throbs in time with his heartbeat, and for a moment, the only thing he can focus on is the sheer discomfort pulsing behind his eyes.

He doesn't even remember when sleep managed to claim him — doesn't know if it even could be called sleep at this point. It felt more like passing out, drowning under the weight of alcohol and exhaustion, until everything just shut down.

Maybe it was the beer. Or maybe it was the emotional storm he set loose in his own damn room.

Unlike you, no amount of alcohol could ever grant Jungkook the mercy of forgetting. Every word he spat out, every venom-laced accusation, every careless action from last night still clings to him like smoke in his lungs... impossible to breathe past, impossible to forget.

Sobriety doesn't cleanse him, it only sharpens the edges of his guilt, replaying the night in vivid clarity until it's all he can see.

He exhales shakily, running a hand down his face as he sits up. His body feels heavy, like guilt itself has settled into his bones.

Luckily, it's the weekend so he has no classes to attend, but university is the least of his concerns right now. Because beyond this door, past the thin walls of his room, is you. And the thought of facing you feels like stepping onto a battlefield he already lost.

God, why did he go so far last night? Why did he let everything boil over like that? He desperately wishes that he could justify it somehow, but there's no excuse good enough to make sense of the way he tore into you.

The combination of alcohol, unchecked insecurities, and the festering jealousy he had been trying to swallow down for weeks turned him into someone cruel.

And the worst part is, he knows exactly where it all came from. Knows that half the venom he spat at you wasn't even his own voice, but a twisted echo of all the insecurities Jaehyun had planted in his mind. All the doubts he thought he buried. All the fears he thought were beneath him.

And yet, he let them sink in. Let them wrap around his throat until they came spilling out in words he can never take back.

He hates it. Hates himself for giving them power. Hates that he let jealousy and insecurity turn him into someone you probably don't even recognize. Someone he doesn't recognize either.

He can't believe it, can't wrap his head around the fact that he hurt you, of all people. The one person who's always been there, always understood him in ways no one else ever could. The one person he's loved... quietly, desperately, for longer than he's even willing to admit to himself.

With a heavy sigh, he steps out of his room and drags himself to the bathroom. Cold water might not fix much, but maybe it'll wash off the grogginess, the self-loathing, the stale bitterness clinging to his skin.

Because no matter how much he wants to hide out in his room forever, he knows he can't avoid you. Not when you live under the same roof. And when the time comes to face you, he knows... the look in your eyes will hurt more than any hangover ever could.

Once he's done freshening up, Jungkook steps into the living room, his gaze immediately drifting towards your closed bedroom door at the far end. He wonders if you're still asleep — or worse, if you've decided to barricade yourself inside for the entire weekend just to avoid him.

The thought alone sends a fresh pulse of pain shooting through his already throbbing head.

Maybe he should go for a walk. Clear his mind. Let the cool morning air numb the edges of his spiraling thoughts. Maybe if he can think straight, he can find the right words for an apology that doesn't sound pathetic and a way to piece together the wreckage he caused.

It's laughable, really.

An apology couldn't possibly erase the things he said. But still, it's the bare minimum and it's all he has right now.

Dragging himself towards the doorway, he opens the shoe cabinet to grab his sneakers, but his hand freezes mid-air. Three shelves — the ones you always claimed for yourself, filled with your endless collection of shoes — are almost entirely empty.

The heels you complained about but wore religiously. The sandals you slipped into on lazy mornings. The sneakers you wore everyday to university. They're gone.

Not rearranged, not tidied up — just gone.

His brows knit together in confusion. He blinks once, twice, willing the image in front of him to change. Maybe he's imagining it. Maybe his mind, already clouded with regret, is playing cruel tricks. But the shelves remain just as bare, the emptiness staring back at him like a gaping wound. And that's when the cold fear starts to settle in, slithering into his veins like ice water.

Without wasting another second, he turns on his heel and practically bolts to your bedroom. There's no hesitation when he pushes the door open, no knocking — because suddenly, his fear outweighs every sense of decorum.

And when he steps inside, the fear that had been gnawing at the edges of his mind solidifies into something much heavier. Because right there, in plain sight, is your half-empty wardrobe with the hangers swinging slightly out of place and the remaining clothes pushed messily to one side.

He steps further in, eyes flickering to the bed where the sheets lay crumpled and tangled and then, almost instinctively, his gaze shifts to the nightstand, landing on the paper bag. The same one you'd been clutching in your hand last night when he spotted you with Jaehyun from the balcony.

It shouldn't matter. Not right now. Not when there are far more pressing things to worry about — like the fact that half your belongings are missing and your presence is nowhere to be found. But despite the rational voice in his head, his body moves on its own as he steps closer and his fingers ghost over the edge of the bag, just enough to peer inside.

His eyes widen the instant they land on the box inside, the bold, unmistakable letters printed across the top feel like a punch straight to his gut — sharp, unforgiving, and entirely deserved. His stomach churns violently, and there's a hollow ache expanding in his throat, the kind that comes when guilt is so heavy, it feels physical.

Jungkook feels like the biggest piece of shit to ever walk this earth — no, worse than that. Like the human embodiment of every bad decision, every reckless impulse, every thoughtless word that ever left his mouth.

He stands frozen, rooted to the spot, staring down at the 21x21 rubik's cube box — the same one he had spent months obsessing over, scouring every website, visiting every store, only to come up empty-handed every single time because it wasn't available anywhere.

And now here it is, sitting quietly in a bag you brought home, a silent reminder of how deeply you knew him, how much you cared, even when he was too blind to see it.

How you always seemed to hold on to the most trivial things he said, like the things he barely even remembered saying himself. Like the other day when Jimin had mentioned the ruckus you had caused at the grocery store, just to hunt down a snack that Jungkook loved so much.

Or the way you never — not even once — made him feel embarrassed about the things that made him who he was. Like those nights you curled up beside him, watching anime even though he could tell it wasn't really your thing.

Or the times you clumsily grabbed a controller, trying to navigate a game even after admitting that video games made your brain feel like it was overheating.

And that one time, when he was knee-deep into coding some app, you sat beside him for hours, asking the silliest questions. Like if 'public static void' was some secret spell, or if the code could understand sarcasm, or if bugs were actual tiny creatures living in his laptop.

But he didn't mind. Not even a little. Because you were there, genuinely interested, even if you didn't fully understand.

In a world full of people like Jaehyun, people who sneered at his interests, mocked his passions, rolled their eyes at the things that lit him up inside, he had you. You, who never dismissed his hyperfixations as childish or weird, who never made him feel like his interests, his passions were boring or not worth the while.

Because you cared, even when you didn't have to. Even when it would've been easier to just ignore him and dismiss the things he likes, you stayed, trying to understand his world just because it was his.

How, all throughout high school, he was just there.

Not the life of the party, never the one anyone texted first — or at all, if he's being honest. Never the one anyone saved a seat for at the lunch table or dragged along for spontaneous midnight runs to the arcade.

Too quiet. Too awkward. Too easy to overlook.

He was the background noise in everyone else's coming-of-age story, a shadow against the walls of every hallway, a name barely anyone remembered until the attendance was called by the teacher.

Just there — existing, breathing, occupying space, but never truly seen.

People passed him by like scenery, glanced through him like glass, mostly acknowledged his presence only when it was impossible to ignore like a bump in the hallway, an accidental brush of shoulders, a group project where they needed just one more person.

To them, he was a placeholder. A footnote in stories far more interesting than his own. And he thought he'd made peace with that... with being invisible.

Until he came to university — and met you.

Until he was searching for a roommate — and somehow, it was you.

You, who pulled him out of his shell and into the light with nothing but gentleness.

You, who welcomed him into your world, made space for him in something you were passionate about, something that mattered to you so deeply... something he turned around and tore apart with careless words and cruel jabs last night.

The very thing that brought you both closer, the thing you once shared with him like a piece of your heart, folding him into your world of silly videos and spontaneous laughter, making him the unexpected star in a spotlight that had always belonged to you, became the very thing he ridiculed.

And that truth is a punch to the gut, because if anyone else had disrespected your passions like that, he would've fought them on the spot. But it wasn't anyone else — it was him.

And suddenly, it's as clear as day that none of this is the beer's fault, none of this is Jaehyun's fault. Every cruel word, every misplaced accusation, every ugly insecurity that spilled out of him last night — all of it, every ounce of damage, was his own. His own mistake. His own idiocy. His own inability to believe he could be worthy of someone like you.

He ruined the one thing that truly meant the world to him... the one thing that gave him the chance to connect with you, to laugh with you, to simply exist beside you and said things he didn't mean, lashed out in ways he never intended, all because he was too caught up with the noise inside his own head.

He swallows hard, still staring blankly at the box, almost like if he blinks, it might vanish... like if he stares at it long enough, he can somehow rewrite the truth of what it really is.

He can't believe how effortlessly his mind turned against you, how easily he assumed the worst — how quickly something so pure became something ugly in his head.

That it could've been an outfit, an accessory, something trivial that Jaehyun had helped you pick out. That you had replaced Jungkook, your little shopping partner, your unqualified but always eager style consultant, with a person like Jaehyun.

The very thought now feels ridiculous, almost laughable, if it didn't make him sick to his stomach.

He jumped into conclusions without a second thought, all because he saw you with another guy. As if you owed him an explanation. As if he had some unspoken right to be angry, to feel betrayed — when the brutal truth was, even when he learned the whole truth about Jaehyun and tried to warn you, he never once gave you the honesty you deserved.

Never told you the real reason behind his distrust, never admitted what he had heard from Taehyung, because he was more worried of overstepping, more afraid of looking like the villain in your eyes, more scared of you finding out about his feelings.

"Jaehyun has a reputation." he could've said. "Taehyung's heard the way he talks in the locker room — the way he talks about girls. So you should be careful around him."

It was that simple. That's all he had to do... say those words, or at least something close to them. Just a moment of honesty, instead of hiding behind vague warnings and random questions like "Do you trust Jaehyun?"

So how could his concern ever be justified when he never gave you the full story? When all he ever did was beat around the bush, hoping you'd read between the lines he was too paranoid to write?

He doesn't even realize when the first tear breaks free, sliding silently down his cheek but by the time the second one falls, it's almost impossible to ignore the pain in his chest.

You were planning to give him this. A gift that showed, in the simplest yet loudest way, just how much you saw him, how much you remembered even the tiniest parts of him... the parts no one else ever cared to notice.

And in return, what did he give you?

Cruel words sharpened to cut, accusations flung carelessly into the air, every insecurity he had rotting into poison and spilling out of his mouth all because some random person triggered him. He gave you doubt, and hurt, and every ugly, jagged piece of himself he never meant for you to see.

And now, you're gone.

<-part 1 // part 3 ->

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