#lovers to enemies fanfic

[thesecondhandwoman]

SEVERED TIES

Katarina x f!reader

Synopsis: You and Katarina were once lovers, now enemies hunting after one another, but even love from the past can cause hesitation in the final blow.

A/N: Just because Katarina isn’t a girl kisser doesn’t mean I won’t make her one (because yes, I need her to be).

The air was thick with tension, the kind that felt like it could crush you if you dared to breathe too deeply. The abandoned building groaned under its own weight, its decaying walls a reflection of the battlefield that was about to unfold.

Katarina prowled silently through the dim corridor, her twin daggers a natural extension of her hands. The chill in the air prickled against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging inside her. Somewhere in the shadows, you were waiting. She knew it.

And she hated that she could still feel you like this, even after all these years.

“Still as quiet as ever,” Katarina muttered under her breath, lips twitching into a humorless smile.

You had always been good at hiding, better at slipping away. She remembered the way you used to vanish into the night, leaving her alone in dark alleys or behind enemy lines. But tonight, there would be no escape.

A whisper of movement behind her. Katarina spun, her blade slicing through the air just as you ducked beneath it. Your own dagger flashed in the dim light, aimed for her ribs. She twisted, the blade missing its mark by a hair.

“Ah, hi there, Kat,” you said, your voice low and dangerous.

Katarina’s green eyes narrowed. “You’ve gotten sloppy, Y/N.”

Your smirk was as sharp as the blade in your hand. “Or maybe you’re just getting predictable.”

The sound of movement came from her left, and Katarina turned just in time to block your strike. Steel met steel with a deafening clang, the force of your blow sending a jolt up her arm.

Your eyes locked as you pressed closer, the fury in your gaze almost palpable. “You’ve got nerve showing your face here,” you spat, shoving her back.

Katarina stumbled but recovered quickly, flipping one of her daggers in her hand. “And you’ve got nerve thinking you can take me after all these years .”

The fight exploded into chaos. Blades clashed in a flurry of sparks, each strike more calculated than the last. You moved with a precision that mirrored her own, every feint and lunge like a reflection of battles long past. It was infuriating how well you still knew her, every weakness, every opening.

But Katarina knew you, too.

“You’ve improved,” she admitted, her tone almost mocking as she ducked under your blade.

“Why are you here, Kat?” you demanded, your blade catching the light as you deflected another attack due to your miss.

“Why are you here?” Katarina countered, her voice tight with frustration.

You hesitated, and she saw the flicker of something in your eyes—guilt, perhaps, or maybe sorrow. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the steely resolve she had come to expect.

Your blades locked, your faces inches apart. The proximity was suffocating, the weight of your shared history pressing down like a vice.

The hesitation cost you. Katarina moved like lightning, her dagger finding its mark as it sliced across your arm. You hissed in pain, retreating a step as blood seeped through your sleeve.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Katarina said, her voice softer now.

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

She pushed you back, breaking the stalemate. “You wouldn’t understand,” she said coldly, though her voice wavered. “It was for the mission.”

Your laugh was bitter, almost deranged. “The mission? Don’t lie to me, Kat. You left because you couldn’t handle the consequences of what we had.”

“Don’t you dare—”

“What we had meant nothing to you, didn’t it?” you shouted, your voice cracking. “You sold me out for glory. For Noxus.”

Katarina flinched as if you had struck her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I don’t?” you spat, your grip tightening on your blade. “Then tell me, Katarina. Tell me how it felt to leave me bleeding in the dirt while you walked away without looking back.”

Her heart twisted, memories flooding her mind, memories she had spent years trying to bury. She had walked away, yes, but not because she wanted to. She had been given an impossible choice: you or her family, her duty. And she had chosen wrong.

But she couldn’t say that now. Not here.

“I did what I had to,” Katarina said, her voice colder than the steel in her hands.

“No, you did what you wanted to do.”

You lunged at her, your blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. She dodged narrowly, her mind racing. This wasn’t just a fight, it was an execution.

And you were ready to deliver the final blow.

The moment came when you feinted to her right, spinning behind her and hooking your leg around hers. Katarina hit the ground hard, her dagger slipping from her grasp as you pressed your blade to her neck.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t end this,” you said, your voice trembling.

Katarina’s chest heaved, her green eyes locked on yours. “If you were going to kill me, you would’ve done it already.”

You hesitated, the weight of her words settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I trusted you,” you whispered, the blade in your hand shaking. “I loved you.”

Katarina’s lips parted as if to respond, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn’t let this end here.

In a swift, brutal motion, her hand shot to the dagger strapped to her boot. She drove it into your thigh, the blade sinking deep into muscle.

You screamed, the pain blinding as your grip faltered. Katarina seized the opportunity, shoving you off her and rolling back to her feet.

But even them, she wasn’t done.

She lunged at you before you could recover, her body colliding with yours and pinning you to the cold, bloodstained floor. Your weapons clattered out of reach as her weight pressed down on you, her dagger flashing in the dim light.

You struggled, your movements frantic and desperate, but she was faster, stronger. Katarina’s knee pressed into your injured thigh, and you cried out, your strength fading with each passing second.

“Stay down, Y/N,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “I don’t want to hurt you further.”

Your vision blurred as she shifted, her dagger slashing across your arm to disarm you further. The pain was unbearable, but you refused to scream again.

“Damn it, Kat,” you gasped, blood pooling beneath you. “Just finish it.”

Katarina hesitated. Her dagger hovered over your throat, her green eyes flickering with something you couldn’t name.

“I can’t,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, her fist came down hard, striking the side of your head. The world tilted, and darkness crept in at the edges of your vision.

As you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the faintest brush of her hand against your cheek, a touch so fleeting you might have imagined it.

Katarina worked quickly, tying your wrists and ankles with lengths of cord she had tucked into her belt. Her hands shook as she tightened the knots, her mind racing.

She looked down at you, at the blood staining your clothes, at the soft rise and fall of your chest.

Memories clawed at her mind: the way you used to look at her with unshakable trust, the nights you had spent whispering secrets and dreams. She had ruined all of that.

But it was better this way. At least, that’s what she told herself.

“I told you I didn’t want to hurt you,” Katarina whispered, though she knew you couldn’t hear her.

With one last look, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind the only person who had ever truly known her.

A/N: Wish I made this longer because this woman deserves it, but the next one will be about Leblanc.

Taglist (completely forgot): @halle5s @lilyyx0 @imfckngfantastic @fict1onallyobsessed @sugrcookiiee @isabelawritesthings @thatonetargaryen @coffee-is-my-oxygen

[kyri45]

I didn’t realize you were the person who did the fanfiction tag drinks.

ahah yeah that's meeee!!

They are all available as stickers on my RedBubble shop!

[lesbianshepard]

while frustrating, the funniest response to historical erasure of same sex couples is people wildly overcorrecting and assuming any interaction between two men in history was a secret homosexual relationship covered up by Big Historian. i saw someone on r/sapphoandherfriend sincerely ask if Thomas Jefferson and John Adams were lovers.

[focusonkayjay]

right here, yet so far away | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes to lovers, ceo! jungkook x kindergarten teacher! reader, angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 19.4k (my hands slipped girl)

Chapter Warnings: mature language, unprotected sex (pls be safe), oral (f. receiving), mentions of an accident, coma, violence (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: hello cuties. this is a special post in honor of me hitting 300 followers. i cant believe the immense support i have received when it's only been a week. thank you so much for consuming my work and supporting me. also please note, the text in italics are for dream sequences or flashbacks. P.S i know people don't just instantly recover after a long coma, but in this story it's just heavy plot armor, so kindly understand.

//

“But baby… please just…” Jungkook’s voice cracks as he jogs to catch up, his hand reaching out for yours. You swat it away without hesitation, the sting of rejection hitting him harder than any words ever could.

“Jungkook, stop it.” you say firmly, your tone sharp enough to cut through his soul. He freezes, his wide eyes searching yours for answers.

“But baby, just tell me why? We were doing so good… just yesterday, you... you said you loved me. Please, you can’t just... leave like this.”

He tries to observe your expression, hoping to convince himself that this is just some cruel joke. But there’s no softness in your eyes, no flicker of doubt. Only a cold, unyielding resolve.

“Don’t you understand?” you scoff, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “I’m tired of you, Jungkook. I’m tired of us.” His breath hitches, disbelief flashing across his face. “Stop. Don’t say that. You don’t… you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” you insist, each word a dagger to his heart. “I mean every word of it. I’m done with you. This whole relationship… it’s not going anywhere. It’s a waste of time, and I just… I can’t, Jungkook. We have to break up.”

His shoulders slump, and his chest rises and falls as though the air has been knocked out of him. He stands frozen, staring at you, desperate to find some hint of hesitation in your expression. But all he sees is resolve… or at least, what you’re determined to show him.

“Why?” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You stare at him blankly. "Because I don’t love you anymore.” you reply, your voice unwavering. Jungkook flinches as if struck. His lips part, but no words come out. And when you turn around and walk away, the sound of your retreating footsteps echoes in his ears, louder than any goodbye, as your body disappears into the darkness.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The shrill wail of the alarm slices through the silence, and Jungkook's eyes harshly open. He gasps for air, his chest heaving as the nightmare clings to him like a second skin.

It’s always the same nightmare. The same scene. The same words. The same look on your face. The same crushing weight in his chest.

He drags a hand down his face, the coolness of his palm doing little to soothe him. His dark hair sticks to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he blinks up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.

For a moment, he just sits there, the silence of his apartment wrapping around him like a cold blanket. A single tear trickles down his temple as images of you flash in his mind, one after the other. His phone buzzes on the nightstand... a reminder of the meetings and deadlines awaiting him, but he doesn’t move.

Four months. It’s been four months since you walked away, and he still doesn’t understand why.

He remembers the day of the break up like it was yesterday. The scene is so vividly planted in his mind that he even sees it in his sleep. He can’t get rid of the way you looked at him… like you despised the sight of him, like you truly didn’t love him anymore.

He still doesn’t have his answers. Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did your heart just decide it didn’t want him anymore? The questions linger in his mind, unanswered, gnawing at him like a constant ache he can’t escape.

Jungkook remains rooted on his mattress, the weight of memories pressing down on him as he recalls the first time he saw you. It was over two years ago, but when he recollects it, it feels so vivid, like it's happening in the present.

He had been reluctant to attend an event that was scheduled at a local kindergarten nearby. Exhausted from a long flight back from the States, he’d tried to get out of it. But his assistant, understanding the importance of his role as the CEO, insisted that he'd attend it regardless.

His company wasn’t just about selling food products, it was dedicated to promoting healthy living, especially for children. They organized events to educate kids on the importance of good nutrition, partnered with schools to provide nutritious meals, and created fun, interactive programs to get children excited about eating right.

Though Jungkook wasn’t keen on spending his afternoon with a room full of energetic kids, he went anyway. The workshop had already started and the moment he stepped into the classroom, ready to grab the attention of the kids, he suddenly spotted you.

You were standing at the front of the room, a soft smile on your face as you engaged with the children, laughing with them and cracking jokes. Your energy was infectious, and the way you moved with such ease around the kids made his heart skip a beat. There was something so warm and genuine about you, something that immediately drew him in.

It wasn’t just the way you looked... though you were undeniably beautiful, but how you carried yourself, the kindness that radiated from you, and how at home you seemed in this world of tiny hands and laughter. Jungkook had never been the type to believe in love at first sight, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him shifted.

He had been smitten, captivated in a way he couldn’t explain. His thoughts had scattered as he watched you, his mind far from the speech he was supposed to be giving. It was almost embarrassing how quickly you had captured his attention, and yet he couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until later, when he was preparing to leave, that he finally found the courage to approach you. He had been nervous, unsure of what to say. But the moment you looked at him, a simple greeting from you was all it took.

Your smile was enough to melt any lingering doubt he had. He introduced himself, his voice slightly shaky but confident enough to make a lasting impression. And you, with that same gentle smile, responded in kind words, immediately making him feel at ease.

He had no idea at that moment that this chance encounter would change his life in the best way possible.

Now, laying in his bed, Jungkook smiles bitterly, remembering how it all started. How he had the most beautiful relationship with you for around a year and three months. How one decision, one visit to that kindergarten, led to everything he lost.

He still can't understand why you left him the way you did, without explanation, without any chance for him to fix whatever went wrong. The image of your face that day... the coldness, the finality, haunts him still.

Despite the whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, Jungkook forces himself to push them aside. He stares at the ceiling for a moment longer, allowing the weight of the memories to settle, before finally making the decision to get up.

He knows he can’t linger in this state forever. The day is waiting for him, and he can’t afford to let his emotions hold him back. With a sigh, he swings his legs off the bed and plants his feet firmly on the floor. The familiar coldness of the hardwood beneath his feet is grounding, and for a brief moment, he feels a sense of control over the chaos in his mind.

The early morning light filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow on his room. He moves to the bathroom, running cold water over his face, hoping it will somehow shake the fog from his thoughts. It’s a futile attempt, but it’s enough to snap him into the present, if only for a few minutes.

Jungkook stares at his reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. His mind is still heavy, but he’s learned over the years to compartmentalize, especially when it comes to work. He’s the CEO and his company can’t afford to be distracted by his personal life. No matter how much his heart aches, there’s a bigger picture to focus on.

//

You glance at the kids, focused on their coloring books, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. They’re adorable, each one lost in their own little world, their tiny hands gripping crayons as they carefully add color to their drawings. You walk around the room, quietly observing their work, admiring the little bursts of creativity.

As you pass by the window, your gaze drifts outside, where a few children are running and playing on the soccer field. You let out a sigh, your fingers subconsciously tracing the pendant of your necklace.

It’s the only thing that connects you to him, to the one that got away, to the one you let slip right through your fingers, even when it hurt to do so. You close your eyes for a brief moment, and his image floods your mind. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled, the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.

You miss him so badly, your chest tightening with the weight of it. But you push the feeling down, swallowing the ache in your heart. You remind yourself why it had to end, why you had to walk away. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

As you stare at the bleachers stand by the green field, a vivid and unpleasant memory creeps up your mind.

"Break up with him."

Junghyun's voice was calm, his eyes fixed on the empty soccer field ahead. The chilly evening breeze brushed past your hair, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your chest. You turned to look at him, disbelief written all over your face.

"What?" you asked, your voice carrying a mix of confusion and irritation. Junghyun was Jungkook's older brother, and his unexpected visit had left you completely on edge.

You had only met this man once before, a fleeting encounter when you accidentally bumped into him outside Jungkook’s apartment one morning. Seeing him now, unannounced at your workplace, caught you completely off guard.

"Break up with him, Y/N." he repeated, turning to face you this time. His gaze was piercing, his tone unyielding. "You know you two belong to completely separate worlds. Jungkook isn’t in love... he’s just infatuated. And frankly..." he continued, his voice dropping with disdain. "You’re nothing but a distraction."

You stared at him, your mind reeling from the audacity of his words. The traffic noise in the far distance felt like static compared to the ringing in your ears. "Are you serious right now?" you managed to say, your tone sharper than you intended.

Junghyun didn’t flinch. "I’m completely serious. Do you think this little fling of yours will lead to anything? Jungkook has responsibilities... he has a company to run, a legacy to uphold. You’re a kindergarten teacher, Y/n. A sweet girl, sure, but not someone who can keep up with him."

His words stung, but you refused to show it. "Jungkook loves me." you stated firmly, your voice unwavering. "I know how he feels about me. So whatever you’re trying to pull, it won’t work."

Junghyun scoffed, shaking his head. "Love? You call this love? He’s smitten, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last. You’ll only hold him back."

You clenched your fists, your chest tightening with frustration. Every instinct in you wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was, how little he knew about what you and Jungkook shared.

You breathed heavily, your eyes narrowing as they locked onto him. "I'm going to pretend we never had this conversation." you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil bubbling inside. Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel, stepping off the bleacher stands and ready to head back inside.

“Hanyung Hospital.” Junghyun’s voice suddenly rang out, stopping you dead in your tracks. Your breath hitched, and your eyebrows furrowed as your back remained turned to him. A wave of unease settled over you, his words striking a chord you wished he hadn’t found.

“Isn’t that where your brother is admitted?” His tone was sharp, laced with a smirk you didn’t need to see to recognize.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your heart racing as panic flashed across your features. Had this man done a background check on you? Your mind reeled at the thought, fear and anger coursing through you in equal measure.

Junghyun’s smirk deepened as he saw the panic etched on your face. “Guess I know a little too much about you, sweetheart.” he said smoothly, his words dripping with a smug satisfaction.

Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice caught in your throat. The realization that he had gone to such lengths made your skin crawl, and a sense of dread settled in your stomach.

"See, this is the problem with you lowlifes..." Junghyun sneered, his voice dripping with disrespect. "You have so many weaknesses, yet you never stop dreaming big." He let out a cruel laugh, his eyes glinting with amusement at your stunned silence.

You stared at him, your throat tightening as if the words you wanted to say were caught in a vice. "I heard he’s been in a coma for four years." he continued, his tone casual, almost mocking.

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. The mention of your brother... the very core of your vulnerability, felt like a dagger twisting in your heart.

“Maybe I should make sure this coma lasts forever—”

"What?" The word burst out of you before he could finish. Panic surged through you, visible in the way your breathing quickened. Junghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction at your reaction. He relished the fear and desperation etched across your face, feeding off the control he had over the situation.

"Leave my brother out of this." you managed to say, your voice low but firm, fists clenched tightly at your sides. "This has nothing to do with him."

You forced yourself to regulate your breathing, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions that were threatening to spill over. But deep down, you knew exactly what this man was doing. And it felt like a threat too enormous to escape.

Junghyun’s smirk only deepened, his silence more unsettling than words. It was as though he reveled in watching you squirm under the weight of his insinuations.

Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before you. The influence Jungkook’s family wielded wasn’t just intimidating, it was terrifying. They were rich, powerful, and connected in ways you could only imagine.

For all you knew, they could probably make someone disappear without a trace. And standing face-to-face with Junghyun, you started to think that was your chilling reality.

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with as much resolve as you could muster, but the unease in your chest lingered. You felt trapped, cornered by an enemy who knew just where to strike to hurt you the most.

"Well, sweetheart, I want to leave him out of this too..." Junghyun sighed, his tone mockingly sympathetic. "And you know exactly what you need to do for that to happen."

His words struck like a hammer, each syllable weighing heavier than the last. You felt your whole world collapsing around you, the walls closing in with no way out. You felt suffocated. Cornered. Powerless.

Your gaze dropped to your feet, tears pooling in your eyes despite your desperate attempts to hold them back. The fight within you slowly crumbled, leaving only the unbearable weight of his ultimatum.

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you fought to keep yourself composed.

"I'll break up with him." you whispered finally, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. A tear slipped down your cheek, the first crack in the dam as the reality of your surrender settled in.

Junghyun stepped down from the bleacher stands, his slow footsteps growing louder in your ears. You didn’t move, your feet rooted to the ground as if the weight of your decision had physically anchored you.

He stopped in front of you, and you felt his presence, his amusement radiating like poison. A soft laugh escaped him, sending shivers down your spine.

"Now that was easy, wasn’t it?" he mocked, patting your head like you were a child who had just followed orders. Your jaw tightened, teeth gritting at the humiliating gesture, but you remained silent.

"And this goes without saying, but... Jungkook should never hear about this encounter." Junghyun said, his voice low and taunting as he stepped closer.

You didn’t respond, your throat too tight and your mind too fogged with fear and anger to formulate a reply.

He smirked at your silence before brushing past you, deliberately bumping into your shoulder as if to remind you just how insignificant he believed you to be. The force was slight, but it felt heavier, laden with the weight of everything he’d taken away from you in the matter of mere minutes.

The chilly breeze cut through the quiet, and you felt it settle deep into your bones, a reminder of just how cold the world could be.

"Miss Choi!" a little voice pierces through the haze of your flashback, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes shift from the bleacher stands outside to the source of the voice. A little girl waves her broken color pencil in the air, her tiny face scrunched in distress.

You force a smile, the corners of your lips lifting as you walk towards her. "Give me that, let me sharpen it for you, Sera." you say softly, patting her head. She nods cutely, her eyes wide with trust and gratitude.

You exhale deeply, the weight in your chest still pressing down as you make your way to the trash can. As the sharpener scrapes against the pencil, you think to yourself. Stop dwelling on the past.

You knew how deeply you felt for Jungkook. He was more than just a fleeting love... he was a part of you, your safe place. But the weight of Junghyun's threat had been too much to bear. It wasn’t a fight you could win, not against soemone as powerful as him.

The memory of that day gnaws at you, the helplessness, the bitterness of making a decision you despised with every fiber of your being. But what choice did you have?

Handing the pencil back to Sera, you muster another soft smile. Her joyful expression tugs at your heart, a stark contrast to the storm inside you.

All you can do now is hope that Jungkook is living a happy life, far from the shadows of the truth that forced you apart.

//

Jungkook adjusts his position in the sleek leather chair, trying to focus on the ongoing meeting. The conference room hums with the low murmur of voices as his team discusses the logistics of their next community outreach initiative.

The large screen at the front displays a vibrant presentation, but his mind drifts, struggling to stay anchored in the moment.

“Mr. Jeon.” Eunwoo, the Chief Operating Officer, speaks up, pulling him back to reality. “We’re finalizing the details for the event at the Sunflower Orphanage this weekend.” he says, his tone calm but purposeful.

“It’s part of our ‘Healthy Futures’ program.” Eunwoo continues, “Where we teach the kids about nutrition and provide them with tools to build healthier habits.”

Jungkook nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He taps his pen against the notepad in front of him, the blank page mirroring his lack of focus. “Good. Ensure we send enough materials for the interactive sessions. I’ll review the activity plans later today.”

Eunwoo presses on. “We’re also organizing a cooking demonstration for the older kids and distributing care packages with nutritious snacks and recipe guides. It might be a good idea for you to attend. I think the kids would really enjoy meeting you.”

Jungkook exhales softly, running a hand through his hair. Public appearances at these events are part of his responsibility, something he takes seriously. Yet, the thought of being surrounded by bright-eyed children feels heavier than usual, a strange weight pressing against his chest.

“I’ll check my schedule.” he replies, his tone measured, masking the unease he can’t quite shake.

As the meeting concludes, Jungkook steps out of the conference room, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards his office. The familiar click of shoes on the polished floor follows close behind, signaling his secretary, Jimin, is trailing him.

“Your schedule is free, Mr. Jeon.” Jimin remarks, a teasing edge in his voice. “It’s literally the weekend.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, letting out a long sigh. “I know, but I just don’t feel like going.” he mutters, his stride purposeful as he heads towards his cabin.

Jimin quickens his pace to match Jungkook’s, his tone light but persistent. “The kids would love it, Mr. Jeon. Plus, it’s your responsibility.”

Jungkook groans inwardly, knowing there’s no winning an argument when Jimin uses that reasoning. “Fine.” he relents, glancing over his shoulder with a pointed glare. “But... you’re coming with me.”

“Of course.” Jimin quips with a smirk, unfazed. “I go wherever my boss goes.”

Jungkook shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself, before pushing open the door to his cabin. “You’re insufferable.” he mutters, disappearing inside. Jimin grins to himself, adjusting his tie. “It’s part of the job.” he mutters quietly before heading back to his desk.

//

The familiar scent of antiseptic and faint floral air freshener envelops you as you step into the hospital. You glance around, taking in the sight of doctors briskly walking in their white coats, nurses tending to charts, and patients navigating the lobby with family members by their sides. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional beep of monitors create a somber yet steady rhythm.

You make your way to the reception desk, offering a small smile to the woman behind the counter. Her face lights up with recognition.

“You’re early today.” she notes gently. You nod, your expression soft. “I just missed Beomgyu.” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. She smiles warmly, her eyes filled with understanding. “Go ahead.” she says, motioning towards the elevator.

You thank her with a brief smile before turning and stepping into the elevator, pressing the button to take you to the floor where your brother’s room is.

The soft chime of the elevator brings you back to reality as the doors slide open. You walk down the familiar corridor, each step feeling heavier as you approach his room. Pushing the door open, your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on Beomgyu. His motionless body lies on the bed, the faint hum of medical equipment the only sign of life. Four years. It’s been four long years, and he hasn’t moved an inch.

You sit down in the chair next to his bed, your hands trembling as you reach for his. His hand is cold in yours, and the weight of it brings tears to your eyes. But you blink them away, determined to stay strong.

“Hey, Gyu.” you whisper, brushing your thumb gently over his knuckles. Your voice is soft, filled with a bittersweet mix of hope and sorrow. “I’m here.”

No matter how many times you see him like this, it never gets easier. Each visit feels like a fresh wound, a new wave of pain crashing over you. He was your only family and the sight of his still body, the steady beep of the monitor, and the faint rise and fall of his chest... it all feels both familiar and unbearable. Every time, it’s as if a tiny piece of your heart breaks all over again.

As you stare at his face, a sigh escapes your lips, heavy with the weight of countless unshed tears. "Gyu..." you whisper, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "It’s getting so hard." Your words falter, carried by the quiet hum of the machines that have become the soundtrack of his existence.

"No matter what I do... I just... I just can’t stop thinking about him." you confess, closing your eyes as the first tear escapes, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. Your grip on Beomgyu’s hand tightens, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in slow, rhythmic motions. Though his hand remains lifeless, you hold on as if it’s your last tether to sanity, as if somehow he can feel your anguish.

Maybe he hears me, you think, clinging to the hope that keeps you returning to this room day after day. "I miss him so much." you murmur, your voice cracking under the weight of those words. The sob that escapes your lips feels like a betrayal, exposing just how deeply the pain has taken root.

Beomgyu never met Jungkook... yet, in your heart, you know that if he ever did... he would have absolutely loved him.

You remember that one day you brought Jungkook here, to visit Beomgyu, his hand firmly holding yours as you led him down these sterile hallways.

He had sat beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your trembling frame, as you told him about the accident that had stolen Beomgyu’s vibrant spirit and left him in this suspended state. Jungkook’s presence had been an anchor that day, steady and reassuring, his soft murmurs giving you the courage to speak through your tears.

And then, there was that promise. You can still hear your own voice, shaky but determined, as you looked into Jungkook’s eyes. "When Beomgyu wakes up, you’ll be the first to know." The memory feels like a lifetime ago, a fragment of a world where hope felt tangible and love wasn’t wrapped in layers of regret.

Now, that promise lingers like a ghost, haunting you with its impossibility. The weight of it presses against your chest, suffocating in its quiet accusation.

You lower your head, your tears falling silently onto the sterile sheets, wishing for a reality where things could have been different... where Beomgyu would wake up, and Jungkook would still be yours to call.

//

After spending about forty minutes sitting by your brother’s side, you feel the weight of time press down on you. With a reluctant sigh, you lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss on his cool forehead. The stillness of the room wraps around you like an unwanted embrace, amplifying the ache in your chest.

You stand, taking a moment to drink in the sight of him, his face so serene yet painfully distant. Finally, you force yourself to turn away, the sharp pull of grief hurting you even as your feet carry you towards the door.

The hospital hallways stretch before you, illuminated by fluorescent lights that feel too bright for the heaviness clouding your heart. The muted chatter of families and nurses echoes faintly around you, but you tune it out, your focus on the floor ahead.

Every step feels heavy, yet familiar... grief walking alongside you like an old companion. You’re lost in thought, your mind lingering on memories you can't quite hold onto, when the sharp ring of your phone jolts you back to the present.

You pause, fishing the device out of your bag. The name on the screen makes a faint smile touch your lips. "Hey, Joonie." you greet, your tone soft but warm.

“Oh my god Y/N...Hi... where have you been?” Namjoon’s voice filters through, steady yet tinged with his usual concern. “I was just visiting Beomgyu.” you reply, stepping into the elevator as the doors slide open.

“Ah...” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a gentler note. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“No, not at all.” you assure him, leaning against the elevator wall. “I was just about to leave anyway. What’s up?” There’s a slight pause on the other end before he continues talking. “I wanted to check if you’re coming to the orphanage this weekend. You know... for the volunteering session.”

The mention of the orphanage brings a warmth to your chest. Your lips curve into a genuine smile as you think of the place that’s come to feel like a second home. “Of course I’ll be there.” you reply without hesitation.

“That's great!!” Namjoon says, a hint of relief in his tone. “Mrs. Lee mentioned there’s going to be some kind of workshop for the kids, though I’m not really sure what it’s about.”

You hum thoughtfully, stepping out of the elevator as it dings open on the ground floor. “A workshop? That sounds interesting. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what it's about.” you muse, the faint hum of curiosity threading through your voice.

Namjoon chuckles lightly. “Yeah, seems like it. Anyways, you get home safe, Y/N-ah. I'll see you on the weekend.” he says. “See you Joonie... Bye.” you reply, your smile lingering as the call ends.

As you slip your phone back into your bag and step into the cool evening air, a quiet sense of purpose washes over you. The orphanage, specifically, the Sunflower Orphanage, holds a deeply rooted place in your heart.

It’s not just a building, it’s a chapter of your life, a part of your story written alongside your brother, Beomgyu as the two of you grew up there and navigated a world that often felt too vast and too indifferent.

Volunteering there every weekend for the past month with Namjoon hasn’t just been about giving back to the place that shaped you, it’s become a way to honor the struggles you and Beomgyu once faced.

It’s a way of making peace with the past while helping to build a brighter future for the children still living it. The act of helping others has started to feel like a balm for your soul, a small piece of healing in a journey that has felt insurmountable at times.

More than that, it’s helped you stay busy, distracted, keeping your mind from wandering too often to the void that has been lingering in your life for the past four months, an emptiness you’re not ready to confront fully yet.

Every smile from the kids, every hug, every story they share with you reminds you why you’ve always wanted to be a kindergarten teacher.

Now, being able to follow your dream and also volunteer at the very orphanage you grew up in, doing your best to give these children the care and love you once longed for, feels profoundly rewarding.

There’s a bittersweet comfort in walking the same halls you once did, now as a volunteer instead of a resident. You find joy in helping the kids paint their dreams on blank canvases, in reading stories that spark their imaginations, and in simply being a presence they can rely on.

The Orphanage, with its chipped walls and resilient spirit, has become more than a part of your history... it’s a part of your healing, too.

//

Saturday

"Shit, shit." you mutter under your breath, hastily paying the cab driver before dashing towards the entrance of the orphanage. You were supposed to be here early today, especially since you knew there was a workshop planned for the kids.

Mrs. Lee had mentioned needing help with the setup and cleanup, and you’d eagerly offered. But luck hadn’t been on your side. First, your original cab broke down, forcing you to find another. Then, traffic decided to conspire against you, dragging out what should’ve been a quick journey into an agonizing wait.

As you ran up the steps at the entrance, slightly out of breath, your eyes catch on something that brings you to an abrupt halt. A large banner hangs above the double doors, bold letters printed across it. The sight of it makes your stomach churn.

“No way...” you whisper, realization dawning like a bucket of ice water poured over your head as you read the banner. “This is… Jungkook’s workshop?”

You stand frozen, trying to process what you’re seeing. The placards stationed around the entrance leave no room for doubt. Each one bears the unmistakable logo of his company. The presentation materials stacked neatly by the door, the branded posters, and even the staff moving equipment inside all scream his involvement.

You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat. Of course, it had to be here. Of all the orphanages in the city, the one you’ve been volunteering at for the past month had to be the very place where Jungkook... your ex boyfriend, Jungkook... is hosting a workshop. The universe really has a twisted sense of humor sometimes.

“Fuck.” you mutter, closing your eyes and trying to calm the storm brewing in your chest. You press a hand against the doorframe to steady yourself, taking deep breaths to fight off the anxiety creeping up your spine.

Your mind races with questions you’re not sure you want answers to. Is he here? Or is this one of those events where his employees take the lead while he stays behind the scenes? Should you turn around and leave before anyone notices, or would that make things worse?

You glance back at the cab, still idling by the curb. For a fleeting second, the idea of jumping back in and leaving tempts you. But then you hear the sound of children’s laughter filtering through the open doors, mingling with the excited chatter of the staff, and you know you can’t just leave.

Bracing yourself, you take another deep breath and step inside, your heart pounding harder with each step. The familiar warmth of the orphanage wraps around you, but today it feels heavier, tinged with the tension you’re carrying. You repeat a silent mantra, trying to ground yourself. Stay professional. This is about the kids. Nothing else matters.

“I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I don’t know him.” you mutter under your breath, nodding to yourself as your footsteps echo in the hallway.

//

As you step into the bustling main hall, your eyes land on Namjoon almost immediately. The minute he spots you too, it doesn’t take long for him to weave his way through the crowd towards you, his expression a mix of shock and concern. “Y/N…” he begins, his voice low but urgent as he reaches you. “I had no idea this was going to be his workshop.” The disbelief in his tone mirrors your own feelings.

You throw your head back, a groan escaping your lips. “I know. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is he really here, though? Or is it just his team running the workshop?” you ask, a flicker of hope creeping into your voice as you glance at him.

Namjoon hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he’s trying to cushion the blow. “Unfortunately…” he starts, his tone apologetic. “He’s here. I just saw him talking to Mrs. Lee a few minutes ago.” You close your eyes, rubbing your temples. “This is so, so, so not fair.” you mutter, your frustration bubbling over.

“Hey…” Namjoon’s voice softens as he places his hands on your shoulders, steadying you. His calm presence is like an anchor in the midst of your swirling emotions. “You’re going to be fine. I know breaking up with him was hard for you, but right now... the best you can do is just stay professional. Pretend like you don’t know him and I’m sure he won’t approach you… I hope.” he adds with a small, uncertain smile.

You let out a shaky sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the situation. Namjoon’s logic makes sense, but it does little to calm the storm brewing inside you. “I haven’t seen him in four months, Joon.” you admit, your voice shaky. “And now, of all times, I have to see him? Here?”

Namjoon offers you a sympathetic look, his hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but I know you’ve got this. Just try your best to avoid him.”

You nod slowly, though you’re far from convinced. This isn’t a situation you can simply walk away from. Jungkook’s presence is inevitable now, and the thought of seeing him again, after everything, sends a whirlwind of emotions crashing through you.

You're aware Jungkook won't be expecting to see you here today and you can't help but wonder what his reaction will be when he actually ends up seeing you. Would his expression shift the moment he spots you? Would it be one of cold indifference, barely a flicker of acknowledgment? Or something sharper like anger, disappointment, perhaps even sadness? The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to brush the questions aside. There’s no time to dwell on this right now. You take a steadying breath and look around the busy hall. It’s high time you start helping out. After all, you’re already late, and the least you can do is make up for lost time by pitching in wherever you’re needed.

//

Once all the kids are settled in their seats, their excitement bubbling over in the form of giggles and whispers, you step back, making your way to the back of the room. Namjoon is already there, his arms crossed loosely as he leans against the wall. You take your place beside him, exhaling deeply, trying to calm your heart and mind.

As the workshop begins, your eyes inevitably drift to the front of the room. Jungkook stands there, effortlessly commanding attention. He’s dressed sharply but casually, the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt exposing his tattooed forearm. His presence is magnetic, and it’s no surprise that even the youngest kids are riveted as he begins to speak.

“This program is called 'Healthy Futures'.” he starts, his tone warm and inviting. “It’s about giving you the knowledge and tools to take care of your health. Eating the right food, staying active, and understanding how to take care of your bodies... it’s not just important now, but it’ll help you for years to come.”

He gestures to a large poster board displaying colorful illustrations of fruits, vegetables, and simple meal plans. “Today, we’ll talk about nutrition, and we’ll even have some fun activities to show you how to make smart food choices. You’ll see how easy it can be to make meals that are both delicious and good for you.”

The kids are wide-eyed, soaking up every word. Jungkook’s ability to connect with them is undeniable. As he dives into the presentation, explaining concepts in simple, engaging terms and peppering his talk with questions to keep the kids involved, a small smile tugs at your lips.

You watch as he crouches down to a child’s level, handing them a flashcard and encouraging them to name the food group it belongs to. The way his eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm when the child gets it right is a sight that momentarily softens the ache in your chest.

You can’t help but smile, even if it’s bittersweet. Seeing him like this... passionate, caring, and entirely in his element... reminds you of the man you fell in love with. His natural charm, the way he effortlessly makes others feel seen and valued, is just as captivating now as it was then.

Namjoon nudges you gently. “You okay?” he asks, his voice low. You nod again, your gaze fixed on Jungkook. “Yeah.” you whisper, though the lump forming in your throat makes it a struggle to get the word out. “I’m fine.” you say.

//

As Jungkook wraps up his talk, his voice is steady and warm, a reflection of the effort he’s poured into making this workshop meaningful. “Alright, kids, now it’s time for the fun part...” he announces with a grin.

“My team is going to help you make a simple, healthy snack, something delicious and easy that you can make yourselves... so follow them and they'll guide you through the process." he says.

The children erupt in cheers and applause, their excitement echoing through the hall. Jungkook’s smile widens at their enthusiasm, the earlier reluctance he felt about being here melting away. It’s moments like these that make everything worth it. Seeing their faces light up is a reward far greater than any professional accolade.

As the kids begin to disperse, following the other employees out of the hall, Jungkook takes a moment to glance around, his eyes scanning the room to take in the atmosphere. And then he suddenly sees you.

Jungkook lips part a watches you intently, his eyes trailing as you exchange words with Namjoon before following him out of the room. His throat feels dry, his mind reeling. She's… here? The words echo in his head as his heart pounds erratically against his ribcage.

He gulps, trying to steady himself, but the unexpected sight of you has thrown him completely off balance. Before he can fully process his spiraling thoughts, Jimin’s voice cuts through the haze.

“Mr. Jeon, shall we?” he prompts, his tone professional but gentle, unknowingly grounding Jungkook back to the present. He blinks, nodding faintly as he forces his legs to move, trailing behind his secretary towards the activity room.

But just when he enters the activity room, what he doesn't expect is for you to be the first person he sees. You’re standing just a few feet away, holding a precarious stack of trays to distribute it among the kids. Your focus is elsewhere, until your eyes suddenly meet his. The world tilts for a moment as your face registers a mix of shock and disbelief.

The impact of seeing him here, so close, sends a jolt through you. Your grip falters, and before you can stop it, the trays slip from your hands, the clattering sound echoing through the room as everything scatters across the floor.

The kids go silent, their chatter replaced by a stunned hush as all eyes turn towards you. The embarrassment and panic that flood your system make your skin prickle, but before you can even begin to move, Jungkook is already in front of you.

“Are you... are you okay?” His voice is low, concerned, his hands gently closing over yours as if to steady you. His touch is firm yet hesitant, and the warmth of his palms against your skin sends a shiver through you.

You can barely process his words, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you struggle to respond. The way he’s looking at you... those familiar dark eyes filled with a mixture of worry and something deeper, makes it impossible to think straight.

“I uhhh... I’m fine.” you finally stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Your cheeks burn as you quickly try to pull your hands back, but he doesn’t let go immediately. His fingers linger for a second longer than necessary, as if he’s reluctant to lose the contact.

Namjoon, having watched the entire scene unfold, clears his throat as he approaches. “Y/N, are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, his tone gentle yet purposeful, as if trying to diffuse the tension.

“I’m fine.” you repeat, louder this time, forcing yourself to look away from Jungkook as you pull your hand away from his and focus on the mess on the floor. You crouch down, starting to pick up the scattered trays, desperate to avoid his eyes. Namjoon joins you without a word, but you can feel Jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you.

Jimin steps forward, clearly confused by the sudden commotion. “Mr. Jeon, should we...” he starts, glancing between Jungkook and the scene before him, but Jungkook barely acknowledges him. His focus is solely on you, his mind racing as he tries to process everything.

For Jungkook, this moment feels surreal. He hadn’t prepared himself for seeing you... not here, not like this. And now, with you so close yet seemingly so far, the weight of everything unsaid between you presses down on him like a tidal wave.

He wants nothing more than to just hold you, to pull you close and take in every detail of your face. These four months have been nothing short of hell, filled with an unrelenting ache for your presence.

But as he watches you so obviously avoiding him, he feels rooted to the spot, his mind scrambling to find the right words... words that refuse to come out.

//

Once the kids are fully immersed in their activity, you quietly slip out of the room, desperate for a moment to catch your breath. The weight of Jungkook’s presence had pressed on you relentlessly for the past twenty minutes, his gaze a constant reminder of the unresolved emotions between you two. Each stolen glance felt like it peeled back layers of the wall you’d carefully built around yourself.

The hallway is quiet as you walk towards the large window at the far end, your footsteps muffled against the polished floor. You pause there, gazing out at the orphanage’s small garden, the scene outside blurring as your mind spins.

Your fingers find the pendant hidden beneath your sweater, and you begin to fidget with it, the familiar texture grounding you. This pendant, this tiny piece of jewelry, holds a weight of its own, a connection to a past that feels both distant and ever-present.

Seeing Jungkook up close had hit you harder than you expected. He hadn’t changed. He was still just as beautiful, still radiated that quiet warmth that had always drawn people to him. The same warmth you’d once found comfort in.

And you missed him... God, you missed him in a way that made your chest ache. But that only made it worse. Because you couldn’t let yourself fall apart, not now, not when you had to face him. You’re so lost in thought that the sound of a familiar voice startles you.

“Y/n.”

Your body tenses instantly. You don’t turn, your fingers reflexively tucking the pendant back beneath your sweater as if it’s some fragile secret you need to protect. You stay facing the window, your breaths shallow as you try to steady your heartbeat.

“You… won’t even look at me?” Jungkook's voice is soft, hesitant, but the pain in it cuts through you like a blade. You bite your lip, your eyes still fixed on the view outside, but all you can feel is him. The rawness of his words sinks into you, heavy and unshakable.

“Y/n…” His voice comes again, quieter this time, almost breaking. It’s not just a name... it’s a plea, one you wish you could ignore but know you can’t.

You hate this. You hate that Jungkook, of all people... the kindest, most selfless soul you’ve ever known... is standing here now, burdened by the pain you caused him. You hate that you’re the one who turned his world upside down. And yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to face him.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you turn to face him. Your expression is blank, a carefully constructed mask. “What?” The word comes out cold, clipped, and you instantly regret the sharpness of your tone.

Jungkook’s gaze softens as he studies you, his dark eyes tracing the contours of your face. You still look the same... still breathtaking, still the person he fell hopelessly in love with. But there’s something different too, a guardedness that wasn’t there before, a distance he doesn’t know how to bridge.

“How… how have you been? It’s been a while.” he says softly, his voice laced with hesitation as he takes a tentative step closer.

“I’m fine.” The words come quickly, too quickly, as if you’re desperate to end this conversation before it can even begin. You don’t meet his gaze for long, your eyes flicking away like you’re afraid of what he might see.

Every second in his presence feels like an eternity, the weight of the emotions swirling between you both, suffocating. You can’t do this. Not now, not like this. The effort of keeping your face neutral, of pretending you don’t feel the same pull towards him that you always have... it’s too much.

Without another word, you move to step past him, your focus solely on the hallway ahead. But before you can escape, his hand reaches out, catching your wrist. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting you in your tracks.

“Wait.” he says, his voice quiet but firm. There’s a vulnerability in his tone that makes your chest tighten, and for a moment, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of his hand wrapped gently around your wrist. It’s almost unbearable... how much harder this is than you’d expected. Having him so close, right there behind you, stirs emotions you’ve fought tirelessly to suppress.

Slowly, you turn over your shoulder, finally meeting his eyes. The intensity in them is overwhelming, a deep sea of emotions you can’t bring yourself to name. They hold so much... questions, pain, longing and you feel a lump rise in your throat as you let out a shaky breath.

“Let me go, Jungkook.” you say quietly, your voice steadier than you feel. You try to tug your wrist free, but his grip tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to keep you rooted in place.

“I didn’t expect to see you here…” he says softly, his voice low and filled with something you can’t quite place. He’s ignoring your plea, but there’s no malice in it, only hesitation, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. “I’m volunteering.” you reply flatly, forcing the words out without a hint of emotion. “And I need to go.” you add, your tone clipped as you yank your wrist out of his hold.

This time, he lets you go, his hand falling to his side as he watches you stride away from him as fast as you can manage. You don’t dare look back, even as you feel his gaze linger on you, burning into your retreating figure. Your heart pounds with each step, your emotions bubbling dangerously close to the surface, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

You barge into the restroom, letting the door shut heavily behind you. The cool air does nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. Instantly, your hands fly up to cover your face, a desperate attempt to stifle the sobs threatening to escape.

Your chest heaves as you fight against the tears that burn at the edges of your eyes, your palms pressing against your cheeks as if holding yourself together. But it’s futile. The weight of seeing him again... his voice, his touch, the unspoken pain in his eyes, comes crashing down on you all at once.

A strangled breath escapes your lips, and you lean against the sink for support. Your fingers grip the edge of the cold porcelain as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, your blurred vision making it hard to focus.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” you whisper to yourself, your voice breaking. Your tears fall freely now, streaking down your cheeks as the emotions you’ve bottled up for months finally spill over. The ache of his presence, the agony of your unresolved feelings... it’s all too much.

You press a trembling hand against your chest, trying to steady the harsh pounding of your heart. For a moment, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you attempt to compose yourself. But the pain lingers, sharp and unrelenting.

//

The workshop winds down, the chatter of children and clinking of utensils slowly fading into the background. You’ve spent the entire afternoon and evening carefully maneuvering to avoid Jungkook’s gaze, your heart in a constant state of unease.

Every glance he threw your way, every fleeting moment you felt his presence nearby, only made the weight in your chest heavier.

By the time the clock strikes 8, exhaustion has seeped into your bones, not just from the work but also from the emotional toll of the day. Mrs. Lee thanks you warmly as you help her finish setting up dinner. Namjoon remains by your side, quiet but supportive, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of your thoughts.

“You did great today.” he murmurs softly as you both step out of the main hall, his tone gentle. You offer him a faint smile, appreciating his effort to lighten your mood, but the turmoil inside you is too heavy to shake off completely.

Finally, you decide it’s time to leave. Walking down the stairs by the entrance, you feel the cool evening breeze brush against your cheeks. You glance up at the darkening sky, the stars peeking through faintly, their distant glow a stark contrast to the storm swirling within you.

Pulling your coat tighter around you, you fix your bag on your shoulder and bury your hands in your pockets. The thought of going home to the solace of your quiet living room, sappy rom-coms, and a tub of ice cream feels like the only reprieve you’ll get tonight.

As you reach the bus stop, you take a seat on the cold bench, staring at the empty road ahead. The world around you feels quiet and still, yet your mind is an undying chaos. Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook... his voice, his touch, the way his eyes silently pleaded with you earlier and just how much you miss him.

You sigh heavily, resting your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. The ache of seeing him again lingers like a ghost, refusing to leave you be.

As you attempt to gather your thoughts, the soft hum of an approaching engine disrupts your reverie. Your head lifts instinctively, and before you can process it, a sleek car pulls to a stop right in front of you. The headlights cast a gentle glow on the empty road, but it’s the sight of the driver that makes your breath hitch.

Your lips part in surprise, your brows furrowing as the window rolls down. There he is, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, his voice carrying over the quiet evening. You sigh, a mix of frustration and weariness bubbling within you. Without a word, you stand, shifting your gaze to the left, hoping to catch sight of the bus that feels agonizingly far from arriving.

“Y/n, it’s late. Let me drop you home.” Jungkook says, his tone gentle but insistent. Your heart stumbles at the offer, the thought of being alone with him sending your nerves into overdrive. You don’t trust yourself... not with how raw and exposed you feel after today. So, you do what you’ve been doing all afternoon. You ignore him.

Fixing your gaze on the road ahead, you refuse to acknowledge him. “Y/n, please…” His voice softens, almost breaking. You clench your jaw, the plea digging into you, forcing you to glance at him. “Just go, Jungkook.” you snap flatly, your tone colder than you intended.

Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as your words hit him like a blow. He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving you. “I’ll just drop you home. Please, it’s not safe this late.” he persists, his determination unwavering.

You shake your head, muttering under your breath as you start walking down the pavement, each step heavier than the last. But Jungkook, true to his nature, doesn’t back down so easily.

The car begins to crawl forward, matching your pace as you walk. His persistence is both frustrating and heartbreaking. You can feel his gaze through the window, silently urging you to stop, to listen, to look at him.

“Y/n.” he calls out again, his voice tinged with desperation. Your chest tightens as you quicken your steps, hoping to outrun the storm of emotions brewing within you. But no matter how far you walk, Jungkook is right there, his car trailing you like a shadow, refusing to let you go.

The sound of the car suddenly stopping and the door opening breaks through the rhythm of your footsteps, and you stiffen. You don’t turn around, determined to maintain your resolve, but then you feel it... a firm yet gentle hand gripping your arm, spinning you around effortlessly.

Your eyes widen as you find yourself face-to-face with Jungkook, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place. His breath is uneven, as if he’s been chasing you, though he hasn’t. “Please.” he says, his voice raw and pleading. “Just let me drop you home. That’s literally all I’m asking.”

His words hang heavy between you, and for a moment, you close your eyes, exhaling sharply. His persistence is unrelenting, and deep down, you know your bus isn’t arriving anytime soon to save you from this situation.

You pull your arm free from his grasp, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you step back. Without meeting his gaze, you walk towards his car, your resolve cracking under the weight of exhaustion and inevitability.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you settle into the cold leather with a resigned sigh, the door closing behind you with a soft thud. He'll just drop me home, you convince yourself as you don’t look at him, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

Jungkook quietly gets back into the driver’s seat, his movements careful as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence that now envelops the two of you. The hum of the engine rises again, but neither of you say anything, the tension stretching thin as the car begins to move.

As Jungkook drives, the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road fills the car, but the silence between you feels louder, heavier. Your gaze remains fixed outside the window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting glows across your face. Your hands clutch your purse tightly on your lap, a silent anchor to steady your racing emotions.

The stillness is suddenly broken by his voice, soft but heavy with restraint. “So… how have you been?” he asks, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

You don't answer. You don’t move. You don’t flinch. Your determination to stay silent grows stronger as you think about the consequences of letting him back into your life. The jagged edges of your reality press against you like shards of glass.

“Y/n…” he calls out again, his voice gentler this time, but still, you keep your gaze fixed outside, ignoring the crackling tension in the air.

He exhales audibly, the pain in his voice more evident now. “Y/n, I haven’t seen you in four months... and now you’re here, but you’re acting like I don’t even exist.” His words tremble, and you feel the sharp sting of guilt twisting in your chest.

“You’re right here.” he murmurs, almost to himself. ���But why do you feel so far away?”

Your lips tighten into a thin line, and your grip on your purse grows tighter. You can feel his eyes on you, searching, pleading, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “Are you really not going to talk to me… at all?” he asks, his voice breaking slightly at the end.

Jungkook glances at your side profile, his knuckles white against the steering wheel as he fights to hold himself together. The hurt in his chest feels unbearable, a weight pressing harder with every second of your silence.

He’s done his best to come to terms with your absence, with the breakup, even when the harsh reasons you gave felt like flimsy walls hiding something bigger. But now, sitting this close to you and being treated like a stranger, it cuts deeper than he expected.

“You know what…” Jungkook suddenly mutters under his breath, and though you hear the shift in his tone, you don’t move, don’t react. But then the car swerves abruptly, jerking to the left. Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide with shock as you clutch the handlebar above your seat.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, your heart hammering as you notice the road signs signaling that he’s no longer heading towards your neighborhood.

“I can’t do this anymore.” he says, his voice firm but tinged with exhaustion. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and his foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the car speeding up.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?? Slow down !!” you demand, trying to mask the panic creeping into your voice. “We need to talk.” he states simply, his eyes focused on the road ahead as if there’s nothing else in the world but his determination.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mind races. “Jungkook, turn the car around.” you say firmly, though your voice wavers slightly.

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, his jaw tightens, and the speed of the car increases further, the scenery outside blurring. Then it hits you... he’s heading in the direction towards his place.

“Jungkook…” you begin, your voice softer now, a mixture of anger and disbelief.

He doesn’t answer this time, his silence carrying more weight than words ever could. His gaze remains locked forward, the muscles in his jaw ticking as if he’s trying to rein in the storm brewing within him.

You glance outside, feeling both trapped and helpless. Every instinct in you screams to argue, to demand that he stops, but a part of you... a small, stubborn part wonders what he’s so desperate to say.

After 10 tense minutes of silence, the car finally comes to a halt in front of Jungkook's building. He doesn’t waste a second, stepping out of the car and slamming the door behind him. You watch him from the corner of your eye, your hands still gripping the purse on your lap, as he strides purposefully to your side of the car.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he pulls the door open, and the chill of the night air sweeps over you, making you shiver. He leans down slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with an unrelenting determination that sends your heart racing.

“Come with me.” he says, his voice steady but soft as he extends a hand towards you. You stare at his hand, conflicted, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. You feel cornered, unable to escape this situation he’s forced you into.

“Jungkook…” you begin, but the words catch in your throat. He sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, as if the plea in your voice strikes a chord in him. But before you can say anything else, he gently grabs your wrist. The touch is soft, hesitant, but there’s an urgency to his movements as he guides you out of the car.

You stumble slightly, your body still resistant, but he steadies you with a firm yet careful grip. He’s desperate, you can see it in the way his brows furrow, the way his lips press into a thin line as if he’s barely holding himself together. “Jungkook, I...” you breathe out, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“Just… please.” he interrupts, his voice raw with emotion. “I just wanna talk.... Please.”

His eyes search yours, and you can feel the ache in them, the unspoken pain he’s been carrying. Your chest tightens, and for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to say no, unable to pull away. He doesn’t give you a chance to argue further, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he gently but firmly leads you towards his house.

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of the moment heavy in the air as you reluctantly follow him.

As Jungkook shuts the door to his apartment, the click echoes in the silence. He turns to face you, his eyes soft but piercing, like he’s searching for something he’s desperate to find.

“Y/n.” he says, your name rolling off his tongue like a plea.

You try to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, but then his hands come up to cup your face, his warmth grounding you in a way that sends a pang through your chest. His touch is gentle, yet insistent, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“Y/n, please.” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “Just talk to me.”

Your breath hitches, and you instinctively step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding wall against your back. You’re cornered... literally and emotionally... and the weight of the moment bears down on you.

Your emotions, so carefully locked away, begin to bubble to the surface. Anger, regret, frustration, they all swirl together, threatening to consume you. Gritting your teeth, you grab his wrists and pull his hands away from your face.

“Just leave me alone.” you choke out, your voice breaking. The tears that have been fighting to escape finally spill over, cascading down your cheeks. Before you know it, you’re sobbing uncontrollably, your body trembling as the dam holding back your emotions shatters.

Jungkook’s eyes widen in shock as he watches you unravel before him. His heart clenches painfully at the sight of your tears, the sound of your sobs cutting through him like a knife. He steps closer instinctively, his hands hovering uncertainly as if unsure whether to comfort you or give you space.

“Y/n…” he begins, his voice soft and hesitant, but you shake your head violently, interrupting him.

“You can’t do this, Jungkook.” you cry out, your voice trembling with frustration. “After everything I did to cut you off… you can’t just... just pull me back like this.”

Your words hit him like a blow, and he takes a shaky step back, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he finally says, his voice breaking. “I didn’t want to pull you back, Y/n. But how am I supposed to let you go when I don’t even understand why you left?”

His words hang in the air, and you stare at him through your blurry vision, your heart pounding as his pain intertwines with yours. You’re both standing on the edge of a precipice, the weight of your shared history threatening to pull you under.

The air between you feels heavy, thick with emotions neither of you can control anymore. Jungkook’s gaze locks onto your tear-streaked face, his breathing shallow as he watches the pain and turmoil in your eyes. Something inside him snaps, and before he can stop himself, he takes a step forward, closing the distance between you.

His hands cradle your face, trembling slightly, as he leans in and harshly presses his lips against yours. It’s desperate, unrestrained, and raw. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, your breath hitching as his lips move against yours, pouring every unspoken word, every unanswered question into the kiss.

Your eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, your mind is overwhelmed by the flood of memories... his laugh, his touch, the way he used to make you feel like you were the only person that mattered. But as much as the kiss ignites a fire inside you, your tears don’t stop.

Jungkook feels the wetness of your tears against his palms, and it pulls him back abruptly. He steps away, his face etched with regret and panic, as if realizing he may have crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

“I... I’m sorry.” he stammers, his voice shaking as he searches your face. “I shouldn’t have—”

Before he can finish, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him back towards you, your lips colliding with his in a kiss that’s equally urgent and desperate. Your hands clutch onto him like he’s the only thing anchoring you to reality, and this time, the weight of all the emotions you’ve been holding back crashes into him.

Your kiss is messy, tinged with anger, longing, and sorrow, but it’s real. It’s the connection you’ve been denying for so long. Jungkook responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer as if afraid you’ll slip away again.

The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment, grappling with the emotions you’ve tried so hard to suppress.

Your lips never part, not even for a second, as you start pulling each other’s clothes off, letting them fall to the ground one after the other. Every single article of clothing gets discarded in a trail leading from his door step to his living room.

The heat between you intensifies, growing hotter and wilder with every second. It’s like you’ve been starving for each other, for this moment, this connection for so long that now you can’t help but devour each other.

You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you can't face the consequences of your impulsive actions, but your heart refuses to let go. You're completely consumed by the passion and intensity of the kiss, unable to pull yourself away even when you have so much on the line.

Even as you walk into his apartment, your lips remain connected, your hands gripping his arms, holding onto him as if you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. The world spins around you as he picks up the pace, guiding you to the couch. Your feet brush against the soft carpet, sending shivers up your leg, and before you know it, you feel the cushion behind you.

The feeling of Jungkook on top of you is nothing less than heaven. You run your hands up and down his tattooed arm, feeling the way his muscles tense with each touch. His kisses trail down your neck, making you squirm under him.

“Fuck...” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he takes off your bra in a swift motion.

He groans softly, his eyes wide as they drink in the sight of you beneath him. Then his gaze falls to your collarbone, lingering on the familiar pendant resting against your skin.

"The... necklace." he notices, his fingers reaching out to brush it gently. His touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as if the small piece of jewelry holds all the words he can’t say. He looks up into your eyes, a subtle smile curving his lips.

"You... you never took it off?" he asks, his voice laced with slight disbelief.

"Never." you affirm softly, your voice steady yet tender. His eyes soften, glimmering with emotions too deep for words, and for a moment, it feels as if the necklace is the silent thread that has always held your hearts together.

“I…” his voice trails, and you can tell he’s struggling to find the right words. “I fucking missed you.” he breathes out and without giving you a chance to respond, he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.

You let out a moan as he starts sucking on the skin between your breasts, and your hips squirm beneath him. “Kook…” you gasp as his mouth closes around one of your nipples, making you arch your back. He bites down gently, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

You can feel his body shaking on top of you, the desperation to get closer to you is so so evident. His hand slides up your leg and rests at your waist before slipping under your back, lifting your hips to meet his. The kiss that follows is sweet and gentle, like he’s trying to apologize for everything that’s happened between you, even when it's not his fault.

Your hands move to his hair, twisting into the dark strands as you pull him even closer. You can’t stop yourself, you can’t resist him anymore. The feeling, the warmth, the electricity, it’s too hard to fight. Your body is craving his, and he’s giving you all the affection you’ve been craving for these past four dreadful months.

His lips trail down your body, stopping at the spot between your legs as he slides your underwear down your legs. You gasp as you watch him dip his head, the warmth of his tongue circling your clit. Your hands grip the couch, and your body arches in reaction to the pleasure he’s sending through your body.

“Fuck.” you gasp, barely able to string the words together as he presses his face between your legs. Jungkook moans, his tongue licking around your clit in firm, steady strokes. Your hands move from the couch to his shoulders, pushing him further between your legs.

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, his chin wet from your arousal, as he grips your hips and pulls you closer. He buries his tongue as deep as it can go, causing your body to jerk in reaction.

You cry out his name, your voice hoarse as your hands grip his hair. Jungkook feels himself get harder as he flattens his tongue, applying pressure to your clit. “Fuck… please... please Kook... don’t stop.” you beg as he licks you faster, your hips rocking against his face.

Your moans echo through the empty apartment as Jungkook works you closer and closer to release. When he stops sucking your clit and presses his tongue deep inside of you instead, you lose it, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, your legs shaking and twitching around his face as your body convulses with pleasure.

He kisses his way up your body, licking the sweat from your skin before he finally reaches your lips. The taste of your arousal on his lips sends heat through you, and you moan as his tongue enters your mouth.

Your tears are back, running down your cheeks as you try to process the moment. Jungkook pulls away from your lips and places his forehead against yours. His thumb softly wipes your tears away, as he tries to process this surreal moment himself.

“Fuck...” he whispers as he slowly rubs his length against your core, sending sparks through your body. You feel the warmth of his skin against yours... your bodies pressed together in a way you can't comprehend.

“I... I need you baby....” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his length rubbing against you. You breathe heavily as you nod, wanting him to just take you right here, right now.

With one swift motion, he pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. Your lips part as you take in the feeling of being stretched out by him.

Jungkook stills for a moment, taking in the feeling of finally being back inside of you. He thought he’d never have you like this again, that he’d lost you forever, but here he is, buried deep inside your warmth. His eyes stare into yours, watching your chest heave up and down as you try to adjust to the feeling you had so deeply missed.

You stare into him, sniffling as your tears refuse to stop flowing. “I love you...” you hear him say as he leans forward again, capturing your wet lips in an urgent kiss.

As the kiss grows intense, he starts moving his hips, thrusting in and out of you in a slow and steady pace. Your hands grip his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you arch your back. Jungkook kisses you harder, his moans filling the air around you.

His movements are filled with need and longing, like he’s afraid this is the last time he’ll get to make love to you. He wants to take in every moan, every thrust, every gasp he gets from you.

You’re lost in the sensation, consumed by the pleasure Jungkook is giving you as his body moves over and into you. He holds you down, his weight pinning you to the couch as he makes love to you in his living room. You feel his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper inside you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer as you gasp for air but his hands grip your legs, moving them up his body as he lifts your ankles to rest on his shoulders. The change of position causes him to slide deeper inside you, and you gasp as he hits a familiar spot inside and all you can see is stars.

“Oh god....” you moan as he starts increasing his pace. Your lips part as the sensation washes over you. Jungkook leans down, pressing his lips to yours as he fucks you with reckless abandon. He’s chasing his own release, but he wants you to come with him.

He thrusts into you over and over again, his hands gripping your waist as he holds himself up. Your hands are on his ass, pushing him closer, begging for more as he groans into your mouth.

Your moans fill the air as you feel your body build towards a second release. Jungkook feels it too, his pace picking up as he drives you over the edge once more. “I’m...I'm coming...” you cry, your nails digging into his skin.

Jungkook groans in response, his thrusts becoming wild and desperate. He fucks you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get to have you again.

You moan into his mouth as your orgasm washes over you once more. Your body convulses under him, and you can’t do anything but let it take you over. Jungkook grunts, his body shaking above you as he chases his own release.

“Fuck baby...” he groans as he fills you up and collapses on top of you his body shuddering and his hips thrusting into you a few more times, stretching out his orgasm as much as he can. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close as you take in the warmth of his body against yours.

Jungkook presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, the gesture carrying a weight of emotions he can’t put into words. The moment feels surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move could shatter it.

He never imagined he’d hold you like this again, the warmth of your presence grounding him in a reality he once thought he’d lost forever. To him, this feels like a stolen dream... achingly beautiful, yet tinged with the fear that it might slip away.

He slowly rolls off you, settling beside you against the soft cushions of the couch. His arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close as his eyes trace the lines of your face.

The exhaustion etched into your features tugs at his heart. His gaze drifts downward, gazing at the necklace around your neck. You didn't take it off and... that must mean something right? As he continues taking in the sight of you, he feels an overwhelming ache rise within him... he had missed you more than words could ever convey.

A thousand questions crowd his mind. He wants to speak, to ask, to understand, to unravel everything that had been left unsaid and find a way back to what you guys once were. But then he notices the way your eyelids flutter, heavy with weariness, and the soft, unsteady rhythm of your breaths as you try to calm yourself.

He swallows the urge to press for answers, deciding that for now, the questions can wait. Morning will come soon enough. Instead, he tightens his hold on you, his heart pounding in his chest as he silently wills himself to remain still. The warmth of your presence soothes him, and he closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will find him in the solace of this stolen moment.

//

Jungkook's eyebrows knit together in his sleep, a slight twitch running through his body as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. His eyes flutter open, and he instinctively clutches the blanket against his chest. Blinking groggily, he glances around, the familiar sight of his apartment slowly coming into focus.

The realization that he’s on the couch sinks in, and like a tidal wave, the memory of last night crashes into him. His breath hitches, and he jolts upright, his heart pounding in his chest. Panic bubbles beneath the surface as he glances at the empty space behind him.

He looks down at the blanket draped over his body, a puzzled frown forming as he struggles to recall when or how it got there. His eyes dart around the room, searching for any sign of you, but the stillness of his apartment feels unnervingly hollow. The silence presses down on him, heavy and suffocating.

Rising to his feet, Jungkook starts moving through the apartment, his voice shaky as he calls out your name. "Y/N??" he tries again, his tone more urgent this time. But there’s no answer.

Each step he takes only amplifies the sinking feeling in his chest. He checks the kitchen, the bathroom, his bedroom, even the balcony, but you’re nowhere to be found. His mind spirals, questioning if last night had been a cruel dream... a mirage conjured by his yearning.

Or had you truly been here, only to slip away quietly in the morning? The thought twists his stomach, leaving him nauseous as he leans against the wall, his hands trembling. Did he really lose you all over again?

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second. His movements are frantic, hands fumbling as he pulls on his clothes in haste, not even bothering to smooth out the wrinkles. His mind is racing, each thought more urgent than the last. He grabs his keys and bolts out the door, the sound of it slamming shut echoing through the empty hallway.

His heart pounds as he throws himself into the driver’s seat, the familiar hum of the engine roaring to life beneath him. His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, the tension radiating through his body. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but the ache in his chest far outweighs it.

The city is still waking up, the roads bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun. Jungkook doesn’t care. He presses harder on the accelerator, weaving through the sparse traffic with reckless determination. Every red light feels like a lifetime, every delay an unbearable agony.

He can't stop thinking about you. The way your touch felt like home, the way your lips trembled against his last night, and the way your tears spoke of everything you were too afraid to say. He can’t let that go. He won’t.

The thought of losing you again, of waking up every morning knowing you’re out there but not by his side, terrifies him. It’s a kind of pain he doesn’t think he can survive twice.

As he nears your neighborhood, his pulse quickens. He doesn’t know what he’ll say, or how you’ll react, but none of it matters. All he knows is that he needs you... more than air, more than anything.

Parking haphazardly in front of your house, he bolts towards your door, his heart hammering as he begins knocking. There’s no answer, and his anxiety only grows. He steps off your porch, wondering where you could be.

He rushes outside, reaching the pavement, desperately scanning the neighborhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of you somewhere.

He runs through the neighborhood, his heart pounding, the anxiety gnawing at him as he checks every corner, every familiar path, but you're nowhere to be seen. Yet, something inside him refuses to give up.

As he nears the park at the edge of the neighborhood, he slows down, taking a breath to steady himself. His eyes sweep over the quiet space, and in that moment, it’s as if time slows... until he sees you, sitting alone on a distant bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the morning light, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he’s ever seen you.

He wastes no time as he runs towards you, his footsteps growing louder as he approaches you, his figure growing more defined with every step. His heart is racing, not just from the frantic search, but from the sheer desperation to be close to you again, to make sure you’re okay.

You sit still, your eyes widening in disbelief as you realize he’s found you. A rush of emotions flood through you... surprise, guilt, and a wave of regret. You can't help but wonder how he managed to find you here.

You glance down, unable to meet his gaze as the memories of last night resurface. The vulnerability of the moment hits you hard. You had fled his apartment at dawn, unable to face him after everything. The way he had held you, the way everything felt so perfect in the heat of the moment... it scared you.

You knew you had no answers to his questions, no way to explain the reasons behind your past actions. And the truth? That was something you couldn’t give him, not now, not when you have so much to lose. The only thing left for you to do was leave him behind and slip away like a coward, hoping he wouldn’t follow.

But here he is, standing before you, his presence too much to ignore. You don't know whether to run again or finally face him.

Jungkook’s eyes are full of pain as he steps closer to you, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and hurt. “You left.” he breathes out, as if the weight of his words is too much to bear.

“Why... why did you leave?” His voice cracks at the end, vulnerability spilling through in a way he can’t control.

You try to look away, but his gaze pulls you in. The truth, too raw and too close to the surface, is something you can’t escape. You can feel the crack in your heart widen with every passing second. "Jungkook... we're broken up." you whisper, barely meeting his eyes.

"No." he denies, the sharpness in his breath betraying the desperation in his chest. "Don't say that, especially after last night." His voice is pleading now, fragile, cracking in a way that shakes him to the core. His fists clench at his sides with the effort to keep himself together.

"How can you say that after everything? After what happened between us? How... can you just walk away like that? How can you pretend like... none of it mattered?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes burning with a need to understand, to hold on to the fragments of what he thought was still there. "The past four months... it’s been hell, Y/n. I’ve been drowning in this silence, wondering every day what went wrong. I never got an answer. You just... left. Without a word, without a valid reason. And I hate it. I hate that I don’t know why. I hate that you just cut me off like I meant nothing. Like everything we had... it was all just a lie."

You look at him, the tears unknowingly streaming down your face. "Kook..." you start, but he cuts you off. "I tried to let go... I tried to make peace with it... but... but it hurts, Y/n. It hurts more than I can put into words, and I don’t even know what I did wrong." he pauses, trying to calm himself down.

"I don’t know what happened between us. Why did... why did you leave me? Why did you make me feel like I was nothing to you?" His voice cracks, the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over. You stare at him, the lump in your throat intensifying. "You... you were everything to me. I thought we had a future together, Y/n. But now, I’m just... I'm just so lost.... I'm so lost without you."

Jungkook steps back for a moment, his hands running through his hair in frustration as he tries to make sense of it all. His breath is shallow, a quiet sob escaping him as he collects himself. "I need to know..." he mutters, barely audible. "Why? What... what happened? Please, just tell me."

He takes another shaky breath, the weight of his emotions almost unbearable. "Don’t tell me... you stopped loving me." he pleads, his voice raw and desperate. "I know that’s not true. I know you would never be so harsh to me." His words are laced with disbelief, as if he’s clinging to any shred of hope that there’s something he’s missing, something he can grasp, something that makes sense.

“I can feel it, Y/n.” he continues softly, eyes never leaving yours, searching your face as if it holds the answers. “I know you love me. You can’t just... stop. Not after everything we went through. Not after what we had.” He steps closer again, his heart aching at the thought of losing you. “So don’t tell me that’s it. Don’t tell me you just decided it was over.”

"I never stopped loving you." you whisper, your voice barely audible as hot tears continue to roll down your cheeks. The weight of your words feels like an anchor in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You feel weak, defeated... like there’s no hope left.

The sight of him standing there, shivering in pain, breaks you in ways you didn’t think were possible. His pain, the hurt you’ve caused, fills you with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Your heart aches as you watch the way his eyes fill with confusion and desperation, his hands trembling as he reaches out to you, as if just a touch could make everything okay. But you know, deep down, that nothing can probably fix this.

"I'm sorry." you whisper, barely able to get the words out. "I'm so sorry, Jungkook. I never wanted to hurt you." The tears flow freely now, staining your cheeks as you try to find the strength to speak, to explain, but the words feel stuck, trapped inside you.

As you break down, Jungkook takes a seat beside you as he hesitantly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You bury your face in his chest, the tears coming in waves, uncontrollable, as the weight of everything you've been holding in comes rushing to the surface.

His hands gently stroke your back, soothing you in a way that makes everything feel just a little more bearable. Every sob that wracks your body seems to break his heart a little more, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip on you, as if reminding both of you that, for now, you’re not alone.

Jungkook feels his own tears begin to spill as he pulls you even closer, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. His fingers tremble as they weave through your hair, trying to hold you as tightly as possible, as if he could absorb some of your sorrow.

The weight of the silence between you both is suffocating, but his mind races, desperately trying to understand why you’re in so much pain, why you had to leave him, why you feel so broken.

"Y/n..." His voice cracks, raw with emotion as he speaks your name. His chest tightens with the fear that maybe he’s never truly known the full story, that maybe everything he thought he understood was just an illusion.

His tears fall freely now, as he presses his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. "Please, just tell me. What happened?" His words are barely above a whisper, but they hold a desperate plea. "Why are you like this? What... what am I missing?"

His hands move to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall. He’s not sure if he’s crying for the both of you or if he’s just so lost in your pain that it feels like it’s his own. "I can’t lose you again, Y/n. I need to know... why we are the way we are right now. Please, just tell me. I can’t fix it if I don’t understand."

His grip on you tightens, the urgency in his voice rising as he gazes into your eyes, searching for some kind of answer, anything that will explain the devastation he’s feeling. His love for you is still so strong, so unyielding, but the fear of losing you completely is almost too much to bear.

Just as you're about to speak, your phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the heavy silence. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to pick it up, especially given the fragile state you're in right now. But the phone keeps ringing, insistent, and you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

With a sniffle, you pull away from Jungkook, trying to compose yourself as you reach for your phone. "Just a minute..." you whisper, wiping away the last of your tears as you glance at the caller ID.

It's the hospital. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, and before you can think twice, you answer, trying to steady your voice. "Hello?"

"Am I speaking to Ms. Choi?" the voice on the other end asks. Your breath catches in your throat, and without a second thought, you stand up, your heart rate increasing with every passing second. "Yes, this is she." you reply, trying to keep your composure, but the panic is starting to rise in your chest.

Jungkook watches you intently, noticing the change in your expression as you stand up. His concern deepens as he observes the tension in your body. Who could be calling you at this hour? You grip the phone tighter as the voice on the other end continues speaking, but then you gasp, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

He watches in horror as you suddenly collapse, your knees buckling beneath you. It's like all the strength has left your body. His instincts kick in immediately, and he's by your side in an instant, crouching down and reaching out for you.

His hands land gently on your shoulders as he pulls you towards him, trying to steady you. The phone slips from your grasp, clattering to the ground, but you don’t seem to notice. Your eyes are wide, unblinking, and you stare ahead, lost in whatever news you've just received.

"Y/n... what happened? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice is laced with worry, his hand moving to your cheek to check for any sign of awareness. You blink a few times, as if snapping back into reality, but it’s still hard to focus. Your lips tremble as you finally meet his eyes, and you whisper his name. "Jungkook..."

His heart races as he holds you tighter, desperate for you to continue. He nods, prompting you to keep talking. "Jungkook... Beomgyu... he... he woke up." you say.

"What...?" Jungkook asks, his voice laced with disbelief. His wide eyes search your face for confirmation, and when he sees the glimmer of truth in your tear-streaked expression, his features soften into a smile. "Y/n... that's... that's great news. That's... amazing news, baby." His voice wavers, a mix of relief and joy, and his smile grows wider.

You nod quickly, the reality of it hitting you all over again as fresh tears stream down your cheeks. "He's awake, Jungkook... he's really awake." you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of happiness and overwhelming emotion.

You pause, glancing around as you try to calm yourself down. "I need to go see him. I... I need to get to the... the hospital." you say hurriedly, the urgency in your tone impossible to miss.

Jungkook catches your arm gently but firmly, grounding you for a moment. "Hey, hey." he says softly, looking into your eyes with a steady calmness. "I'll take you there, yeah? My car’s parked right outside your house, so let’s go. Come on." he softly says as he helps you up.

//

You barge through the hospital doors, your steps quick and frantic, your heart racing as you navigate through the lobby. Jungkook follows close behind, his presence a comforting weight amidst the chaos swirling in your mind.

You reach the elevator and jab the button repeatedly, as though it might make the lift arrive faster. The ride up feels like an eternity, and yet, when the doors slide open, you're already bolting down the hallway towards Beomgyu's room.

Finally, you stand outside the door, your hand frozen on the handle. You take a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, your chest rising and falling with the weight of four long years of waiting. Four years of imagining this moment, of rehearsing what you’d say, how you’d feel... but now, standing here, all those thoughts dissolve into a haze of indescribable emotion.

Jungkook steps beside you, his voice soft and steady as he whispers. "He's waiting for you, baby." His words calm you, giving you the courage you need to face what’s on the other side of the door. You glance at him, his warm eyes filled with reassurance, and you nod, summoning the strength to push forward. With trembling hands, you carefully push the door open and step inside.

There he is. Beomgyu. Sitting up in bed, his back resting against the headboard, alive and awake. The sight is almost surreal, a moment that feels too precious to be real.

He looks at you with a lopsided grin, his expression as cheeky and familiar as ever. "Long time no see, Your Highness." he quips, his tone lighthearted and playful, as if the last four years hadn't just been wiped away by a miracle.

Your breath catches, a soft laugh escaping you as tears well up in your eyes again. "Beomgyu..." you whisper, your voice breaking. The weight of the years, the pain, the hope... all of it rushes to the surface as you step closer, overwhelmed by the reality of seeing him awake.

You rush to his side, tears streaming freely down your cheeks as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against yours is enough to break down every last wall you'd built over the years.

You remember all the times you'd playfully swatted him away, rolled your eyes, or made a face every time he tried to hug you because back then, you liked to act like showing affection to your sibling was embarrassing.

But right now, there’s no hesitation, no second thought. Right now, you’ve never felt more alive.

“I missed you.” you sob, your voice muffled against his shoulder as you clutch him like you’re afraid he might slip away again. The tears come harder as the realization sinks in that this moment is real. He’s real. The long, agonizing wait is finally over.

Beomgyu chuckles softly, his voice steady yet laced with emotion. "Wow, I must really be a sight for sore eyes if you’re this clingy." he teases, though his arms wrap tightly around you, holding you just as fiercely. His familiar, playful tone only makes you cry harder.

"You idiot." you choke out, your voice trembling as you pull back just enough to look at him. Your hands cup his face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that now spill from his eyes too. "Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again. Do you hear me? Never again."

His grin softens, and he nods, his own tears mirroring yours. "I promise." he whispers, his voice quieter, more solemn now. "Never again."

Jungkook lingers near the doorway, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches the reunion unfold. The raw emotion in your embrace, the way you cling to Beomgyu like he might vanish if you let go... it stirs something deep within him.

He knows how long you've waited for this moment, how often you spoke of it with a mixture of hope and pain. Seeing you finally experience it makes his heart swell with happiness for you.

But then, Jungkook freezes as Beomgyu's gaze shifts towards him. His eyes widen slightly, realizing that this is the first time Beomgyu is seeing him.

“Who’s... that?” Beomgyu asks, his voice curious but steady. His brows furrow slightly as he nods towards Jungkook. You turn to follow Beomgyu’s gaze, and when your eyes meet Jungkook’s, you can’t help but smile.

“That’s Jungkook.” you say softly, glancing back at your brother before looking at Jungkook again. There’s something tender in the way you say his name, something that makes Jungkook’s smile widen as he nods politely at Beomgyu.

Before anything else can be said, the doctor appears and Jungkook steps aside letting him in. “Ms. Choi.” the doctor greets with a warm smile. “Congratulations. It’s wonderful to see Beomgyu awake and responsive. However, we’ll need to run a few tests now, just to check his overall condition.”

You nod understandingly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek as you stand. “Of course... thank you, doctor.” you say, turning back to Beomgyu. You lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead, your smile filled with a quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right outside, okay?”

Beomgyu nods, his grin still cheeky. “Don’t disappear. I need you to explain who that guy is and why he was looking at you with literal heart eyes.” he teases, his playful tone making you chuckle as you shake your head.

You glance at Jungkook, who’s scratching the back of his neck, looking a little flustered. “Behave.” you tell Beomgyu with a laugh before stepping outside with Jungkook, leaving your brother in the capable hands of the doctor.

As you settle into the metal chair right outside Beomgyu's room, beside Jungkook, the cold steel pressing against your back is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand as it gently rests on your knee. His fingers squeeze lightly, offering some silent comfort.

You glance down at the way his hand fits so naturally on you and let out a small, tired smile. Placing your hand over his, your thumb begins to trace slow circles over his knuckles, grounding yourself in the quiet rhythm of the motion.

Your voice breaks the silence, soft but weighted. "Junghyun... he came to see me."

Jungkook’s brows knit together in confusion. “Junghyun? My brother?” he repeats, his tone disbelieving as he tries to process your words. You nod, your gaze shifting to the sterile white tiles of the hospital floor.

“Four months ago... he came to the kindergarten.” you admit, your voice faltering slightly. You exhale deeply, trying to steady yourself before diving into the painful memory.

The words spill out in fragments, raw and hesitant, as you recount the confrontation with Junghyun. You describe the way he appeared out of nowhere, his presence overbearing, his threats sharp and deliberate. You tell Jungkook how he used your brother's condition against you, twisting it into a weapon, leaving you cornered and helpless.

By the time you finish, the tension in Jungkook’s body is palpable. His jaw is clenched tight, and his fists curl against his knees. His breath is sharp as he mutters through gritted teeth, “That motherfucker…”

His reaction makes your chest tighten, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you. He’s angry... angrier than you’ve ever seen him but you know it’s not directed at you. It’s the thought of his brother’s cruel manipulation, the pain you endured in silence, that has his blood boiling.

"I'll be right back." Jungkook says firmly, already standing up and walking away with purpose. Panic rises in your chest as you quickly catch up to him, already guessing where he’s headed. "Jungkook, no... wait, stop." you plead, reaching out to grab his arm.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you and holding your shoulders gently but firmly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, filled with resolve. "Y/n, just trust me." he says, his voice steady yet reassuring. "He won’t be able to do anything. I’ll make sure... I’ll make sure you and Beomgyu are safe. I promise."

You open your mouth to protest, but he shakes his head, cutting you off before the words can escape. "I need to put him in his place." he breathes out, his jaw tightening. "He needs to know he can’t talk to you like that. He needs to understand what you mean to me." His voice softens slightly, the tenderness in his gaze making your heart ache.

"Just stay here with Beomgyu." he continues, his tone resolute. "I’ll be back soon. I promise."

Before you can stop him, he steps closer, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, his touch lingering like a silent vow. Then, without another word, he turns on his heels and strides down the hallway, his determination unwavering. You stand frozen, watching him disappear, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the hospital.

//

Jungkook barges into his brother's home office, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang. Junghyun glances up from his computer, a bemused expression on his face. "Oh, Jungkook? Didn’t expect you to visit on a Sunday. What brings you—"

His sentence is cut off abruptly as Jungkook strides over, grabbing his collar and yanking him to his feet. Before Junghyun can even process what’s happening, a powerful punch lands squarely on his cheek. He stumbles back, clutching his face in shock, but Jungkook doesn’t let him regain his footing.

With a growl of anger, Jungkook throws another punch, the impact snapping Junghyun’s head to the side. The metallic tang of blood fills the air as a crimson streak trickles from Junghyun's split lip.

"Jungkook!" Junghyun finally manages to shout, his voice laced with both pain and disbelief. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, his chest heaving as he towers over his brother. His fists clench and unclench, the anger rolling off him in waves. "That’s for threatening Y/n." he snarls, his voice dangerously low. "You think you can mess with her? Intimidate her like that? Not while I’m here."

Junghyun glares at him, wiping the blood from his lip, his shock slowly giving way to a cold smirk. "So, this is about her?" he mutters, his tone mocking despite his obvious discomfort. "You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Jungkook. How pathetic."

But Jungkook doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs Junghyun by the collar again, pulling him close. "Listen to me." he says through gritted teeth. "Stay away from her. If you ever even think about going near her or Beomgyu again, I swear, you’ll regret it."

Jungkook lets go of Junghyun with a forceful shove, sending him sprawling back into his chair. "All this for a girl like her? Really Jungkook?" Junghyun scoffs, his tongue poking the inside of cheek. "You have no idea what she means to me." Jungkook says lowly, glaring at his brother.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his fists still clenched at his sides. His voice drops to a low, dangerous tone. "You have no idea what she means to me." he says, his glare unwavering. "And you never will."

Junghyun chuckles bitterly, his face twisted in disdain, but before he can retort, Jungkook steps closer, his presence commanding. "Do you think Dad’s going to be proud when he hears what you’ve been up to?" Jungkook asks, his words sharp and deliberate.

Junghyun’s smirk falters ever so slightly. "You think he’ll be okay with you going around threatening people? Manipulating them? Using fear to get your way?" Jungkook continues, his voice rising slightly. "You’re the pathetic one, hyung."

He pauses, letting his words sink in, then laughs... a dry, humorless sound. "And you know what’s really pathetic? That you thought I wouldn’t find out. That you thought I’d just let it slide."

Junghyun’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing, but he stays silent, his confidence clearly shaken. Jungkook steps back, his glare never leaving his brother. "This is your last warning. Stay away from her. Stay away from Beomgyu. Because if you don’t..." He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "You won’t just have Dad to deal with. You’ll have me."

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook straightens up and strides out of the office, slamming the door behind him, leaving Junghyun to stew in his own discomfort and rising dread.

//

As you help Beomgyu inside your house, he pauses for a moment, letting his eyes wander around the familiar space. His gaze lands on the corner of the room, behind the couch, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "You still haven't gotten rid of that weird vase?" he teases, pointing at the decorative piece.

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you. "That's never gonna happen." you reply with a shrug, playfully glaring at him.

He shakes his head in mock disapproval before taking a seat on the couch. The cold fabric causes him to shiver slightly, but he leans back, closing his eyes. "Well... it's good to be back." he murmurs, exhaling deeply.

You stand there for a moment, watching him. Your heart feels so full it could burst. It almost seems unreal... having him here, in your home, after all this time. "Let me cook you some jjajangmyeon." you suggest, breaking the silence.

His eyes snap open, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh my god, how did you know I was craving exactly that?" he asks, his tone amused. "It's a sibling thing." you reply with a wink, heading into the kitchen.

As you start preparing the ingredients, your thoughts inevitably drift to Jungkook, especially since you haven't heard from him ever since he left you at the hospital. You can’t help but wonder how he’s handling the situation with Junghyun. The thought of it makes your stomach churn slightly, but you push the anxiety aside.

"So, where’s your little boyfriend?" Beomgyu's voice interrupts your thoughts, his teasing tone carrying from the living room. A shy smile tugs at your lips, but you don’t respond immediately. "Come on..." he continues, his footsteps drawing closer until he’s leaning casually against the kitchen counter.

"I was in a damn coma for four years, and my bitchless sister finally manages to pull someone, and I don’t even get a proper introduction?"

You snort at his choice of words. "Oh, come on, Gyu." you reply, turning to face him with a mock exasperated look. "I’ll introduce you when the time’s... right." He sighs, clearly unimpressed with your answer. "The time’s right when I say it is." he quips, but his grin betrays the affection behind the teasing.

Beomgyu arches a brow at the sudden sound of the doorbell, his smirk widening with curiosity. "Is that who I think it is?" he quips, leaning back against the counter with an air of playful arrogance.

You glance at him, wide-eyed and suddenly flustered. You smile at him briefly before you quickly make your way to the door, your heart thudding in anticipation. The moment you open it, time seems to still. There stands Jungkook, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, his presence radiating comfort and confidence. His smile is subtle yet powerful, a silent reassurance that everything is under control.

You step outside, quietly closing the door behind you, shielding the moment from your brother's prying gaze. You fidget with your fingers as words evade you. "So...?" you finally manage, your voice trailing off.

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps forward, closing the space between you. His arms encircle you in a gentle, protective embrace, his warmth instantly melting away your apprehensions. "I punched him." he says at last, his voice tinged with triumph.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you pull back just enough to search his face. "What?" you ask, your voice rising an octave in disbelief.

"I punched him." he repeats, a satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "Right in the face. You should’ve seen him... completely caught off guard. Like...there's no way he actually had the nerve to mess with my girl."

A mix of shock and amusement washes over you as you lightly smack his chest. "Jungkook! That’s not something to be proud of." you admonish, though the corners of your mouth twitch with an unwilling smile. "Violence isn’t the answer."

His smirk deepens as he tilts his head, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, but in his case, it is."

You shake your head, exhaling a laugh despite yourself. "What am I gonna do with you?" you murmur, your tone caught between exasperation and fondness.

Jungkook’s expression softens, the teasing glimmer in his eyes replaced by an intensity that makes your breath hitch. "Y/N..." he begins, his voice low and steady. "You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything... you, Beomgyu. You’ll both be safe. I promise."

His words hit you hard, the depth of his sincerity leaving you momentarily speechless. He steps even closer, his hands gently cupping your face as his thumbs brush against your cheeks. "I promise you, no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I’m here." he vows, his tone resolute, his gaze locking onto yours.

You nod, your chest swelling with a sense of safety you hadn’t realized you were yearning for. "Just promise me..." he continues, his voice softening. "if anything ever happens again, you’ll tell me. Right away. No hiding, no secrets."

A lump forms in your throat as you nod again, unable to find the words to express the gratitude and trust coursing through you. Jungkook smiles faintly, the tension easing from his features, and he pulls you into another embrace. His arms wrap around you like a fortress, his chin resting lightly atop your head.

"I missed you." you whisper, your voice muffled against his chest.

"I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion as he tightens his hold on you. "More than you know."

After a few long moments, you pull back, your eyes meeting his as the world seems to shrink down to just the two of you. His gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even register it, he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

The kiss is tender yet fervent, each movement brimming with unspoken emotions. You feel his love, his promise, and his unwavering devotion in the way his lips meld with yours, leaving no room for doubt that this is where you belong. The porch, the cool evening air, the distant sounds of the world... all of it fades into oblivion as you lose yourself in him.

It's as if a colossal weight has finally been lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. In this fleeting, surreal moment, the world fades away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your heart and the warmth surrounding you.

Everything about this feels inexplicably right , the way he kisses you, the way his arms embrace you, the way his presence steadies your storm. You feel complete, as though the jagged pieces of your soul have found their perfect fit. You feel whole again.

"Umm, sooo sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." Beomgyu’s voice drawls out, cutting through the tender moment. You and Jungkook both pull apart and turn your heads sharply, only to see him mischievously peeking out of the window right beside the front door. “But, Y/n, your brother, who just got out of a coma, is really, really hungry and would love for you to finish cooking the jjajangmyeon you promised him.”

You roll your eyes, a flush creeping up your cheeks as Jungkook stifles a laugh. "And, of course..." Beomgyu continues, his grin widening. “He’d absolutely love to finally meet your boyfriend.” He emphasizes the last word, wagging his eyebrows dramatically at Jungkook, who chuckles deeply at your brother's antics.

You groan, covering your face in Jungkook’s chest as he wraps an arm protectively around you, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “Gyu, you’re unbelievable.” you mumble, your voice muffled.

Beomgyu shrugs nonchalantly. “Hey, priorities, okay? Food first, making out later.” he teases, shooting a mock salute before disappearing back into the house after shutting the window down.

Jungkook looks down at you, his smile soft and amused. “I like him.” he says with a chuckle. You pull back slightly, playfully glaring at him. “Don’t encourage him.” you warn, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

“Come on.” Jungkook says, planting a quick kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go… we can't have your brother starving.” he says.

You laugh, grabbing his hand as the two of you step back inside. The warmth of your house envelops you, and for the first time in forever, you feel okay.

Beomgyu’s playful voice fills the air as he grins from the couch, the sibling bond you thought you’d lost now brighter than ever. Jungkook squeezes your hand, his steady presence a reminder that the hardest days are now way behind you.

In the kitchen, surrounded by laughter and the aroma of cooking, you glance at Jungkook. His soft smile says everything words can’t, filling your heart with a quiet peace.

For the first time in months, you’re not just surviving... you’re actually living. With Beomgyu back where he belongs and Jungkook by your side, your heart feels complete, wrapped in the comforting truth that this... this is what home is meant to feel like.

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

my masterlist <3

[greengoblinswifey]

Sweet Revenge—Salesman x Fem!Reader

summary— A heated argument with the salesman, the smug Squid Game recruiter, turns into a rough and unexpected night of fucking, leaving you questioning your entire life choices.

warnings— enemies to lovers, arguing, fingering, degradation, praise kink, face slapping, choking, hair pulling, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight aftercare.

The knock on the hotel door was loud and sharp. The Salesman, ever composed, adjusted his tie before opening it, expecting room service instead, he found you.

You stood there, furious, with a fire in your eyes that caught him off guard. “You didn’t think I’d fucking find you, did you?” you spat, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He closed the door calmly, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what brought you here.”

“You know exactly why I’m here,” you hissed, looking up at him. “You ruined lives. Mine included. I want answers.”

He tilted his head, his expression as unreadable as usual. “I gave you a choice, didn’t I? Everyone who plays has a choice.”

“Don’t give me that shit. You knew what you were doing. You preyed on desperate people. And now, you’re going to pay for it,” you snapped, hands clenched into fists.

His laugh was low and soft, infuriatingly amused. “And how exactly do you plan to make me pay?”

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “B-by holding you accountable,” you managed, though your voice wavered.

“If that’s what you want, then go ahead. But something tells me this isn’t just about revenge,” he leaned down, his voice a murmur.

You hated how his confidence pissed you off, how his piercing gaze seemed to strip you naked. You hated how cocky he was.

“Stop fucking playing games,” you demanded.

“But sweetheart, games are what I do best,” he replied, his smirk deepening. “Tell me, are you here to hurt me or for something else?”

You hated him. You hated his arrogance, his calm demeanor, the way he seemed untouchable. But more than that, you hated the way he looked at you, like he knew exactly how much power he had over you.

“Shut up,” you snapped, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to your level. His eyes widened just slightly before his smirk returned. “No more games. No more excuses. You don’t get to control this anymore.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider your words. Then, in one swift motion, he closed the space between you, his lips capturing yours. It was fierce and unrelenting, a battle for control neither of you wanted to lose. You shoved him back, your chest heaving as you glared at him. “You think this fixes everything?”

“No,” he said, his eyes darkening. “But I think you’re acting like a bitch because you haven’t been properly fucked.”

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as your resistance faltered. You hated him, truly, deeply hated him. But your body betrayed you, melting into his touch, craving more of what you couldn’t admit you wanted.

The kiss was so hot, igniting a storm of emotions you couldn’t tame. His lips moved against yours with a roughness that made your head spin. You pressed closer, your fingers tangling in his neatly styled hair, ruining the composure he seemed to hold onto so tightly.

But he wasn’t just kissing you, the asshole was claiming you. His hands roamed with purpose, sliding down your back before gripping your ass firmly. Then, his fingers hiked your dress higher.

The sound of fabric tearing ripped through the air, and you gasped, pulling back just enough to glare at him. “What the fuck?”

He smirked, holding up the remnants of your thong like a trophy. “Who did you wear this for?”

“Shut up,” you shot back, your voice trembling with frustration and something else.

“Oh, I see,” he murmured, leaning closer. “You wore it for me, didn’t you? My desperate little slut couldn’t help herself.”

Before you could retort, his hand slid between your thighs, rough fingers finding your pussy. You gasped again, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he thrust two fingers inside without warning.

“Motherfuck—”

“Quiet,” he commanded, his. “You’ll take what I give you like the slut you are. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His fingers moved in sharp, unrelenting thrusts, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. “You’re such a mess,” he taunted, his other hand gripping your throat to make you look at him. “All this attitude, and for what? You’ve been waiting for me to just ruin you, haven’t you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but your body betrayed you, drenching his fingers and fluttering around them. He chuckled, clearly pleased by your reaction.

“Come on,” he taunted, his thrusts quickening. “Let me hear you say it slut. Tell me how badly you wanted this.”

“Fuck, I—” your words broke with a moan, unable to fight the pleasure building inside you.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Fine!” you cried out, your resolve crumbling. “I wanted it, okay? I wanted this!”

“Good girl,” he murmured, a satisfied smirk on his face. His fingers moved impossibly faster, pushing you right to the brink. “Now, don’t hold back. Let me see you cum.”

And unfortunately, you did. Your body shook as the coil snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over you. He didn’t stop, drawing out every last tremor until you were left trembling in his arms.

When you finally caught your breath, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your neck. “That’s my good fucking slut,” he whispered.

You lifted your palm and the moment your hand connected with his face, the sound of the slap echoed in the room. His head tilted slightly from the force, but the reaction wasn’t what you expected. The salesman didn’t look angry. Nah, he looked, amused?

A dark chuckle left his lips, and his gaze locked with yours, sharp. “Again,” he said, his voice taunting.

Your chest heaved with frustration, your fingers trembling, but you raised your hand and slapped him again. This time, the impact left a faint flush on his cheek. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he smirked, that expression driving you to the edge.

“Feel better now?” he teased, his tone filled with mockery.

“Go to hell,” you spat, but before you could say more, he grabbed your wrist and spun you around with little effort.

“Careful,” he murmured against your ear as he pushed you onto the bed, your stomach pressing into the mattress. His weight settled over you, keeping you firmly in place. “You might make me think you enjoy this.”

Your breath hitched as you felt the press of his bulge against you. The sound of his belt unbuckling sent a jolt of anticipation through your body, though you refused to let him see it.

“Don’t even,” you warned, your voice trembling as you turned your head slightly to glare at him.

“Still talking back,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “I’m going to ruin that little pussy of yours.”

“You’re so full of—”

Before you could finish, he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “Go ahead,” he growled. “Say something else. Curse me out. I love it”

“Fuck you jackass,” you hissed, trying to wriggle free, but his grip only tightened.

“Good girl,” he mocked, his voice dripping with amusement. “You’re so predictable. So easy to rile up. But I know what you really want.”

“You don’t know anything,” you snapped, but your defiance faltered when he pushed against you harder, his body flush against yours.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered. “Is it fear or excitement? Maybe both?”

Your heart raced and you shuddered as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. You and I both know this is exactly what you were begging for.”

He didn’t wait any longer. His hands gripped your hips firmly, pulling you back on his hard cock as he pushed forward. The sound of his sharp intake of breath filled the air as he settled into a rhythm, steady at first but quickly turning into thrusts that were rough and relentless.

“You fucking feel that?” he murmured. “This is what your little pussy has been begging for, isn’t it?”

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling into the bedsheets. “I—” you tried to protest, but the words stuck in your throat as he fucked you faster, each thrust sending a spark of pleasure up your spine.

“You can’t even speak,” he mocked, a dark chuckle vibrating against the back of your neck as he leaned down. “What happened to all that attitude, huh?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, trying to hold on to some semblance of control, but the way he pounded you, relentless, purposeful, was breaking you down.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin making you shiver. “You’re not in charge anymore. You’re mine. My slut.”

Your defiance wavered as a moan slipped from your lips, louder than you intended. His hand slid around your waist, pressing against your lower stomach, holding you steady as he angled his cock deeper.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. Taking my dick so well.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, the pleasure overwhelming as he kept his pace steady but unforgiving. “F-fuck,” you breathed, your voice shaking.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear. “You want more? Say it.”

Your pride battled with your desire, but the way he stretched your pussy, the way he spoke to you, it was too much. “Yes,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “Harder.”

“I didn’t hear you,” he said, a smirk evident in his voice.

“Harder!” you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets as he complied, his thrusts turning harder, deeper.

“There she is,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down your neck, his free hand tangling in your curls. “That’s my slut. So pretty like this, falling apart for me.”

“I—I can’t!” you cried, your body betrayed you, your legs trembling as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Yes, you can,” he encouraged, his tone softening just slightly. “Give it to me. I want to feel you cum.”

And then it happened. A surge of bliss so overwhelming it left you a moaning mess, your body trembling beneath him as you soaked the sheets and his cock. He moaned deeply, his movements faltering as he chased his own orgasm.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low and breathless as he kissed the back of your neck, holding you close as he came, ropes and ropes of his cum spilling into you.

The room fell silent except for the sound of your ragged breaths, and as he finally emptied every drop of cum in you, he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. “You were perfect,” he murmured, his hand stroking your back as he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

What the hell had just happened? What did you just do? You’d crossed a line, broke a boundary you didn’t even realize existed until now.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice filled with embarrassment and disbelief.

The salesman only chuckled as his fingers gently traced circles along your bare skin. “That’s not what you were saying a few minutes ago,” he teased.

You scoffed, covering your face with your hands as if that would erase what just happened, or his cum still swirling in your pussy. “Oh my God,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “What the fuck did I just do?”

He pulled back slightly to turn you toward him. His eyes were dark but warm, his smirk still in place as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You lived a little,” he said, his voice gentler now. “And let me tell you—you can take dick.”

You glared at him, though the effect was dulled by the way your body heated up. “Shut up,” you snapped, shoving at his chest weakly.

He only laughed, pulling you tighter against him. “You’ll thank me later,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You lay there in his arms, your mind racing as the reality of what just happened settled over you. How had you let this happen? How had he managed to get under your skin like this? The weight of what you’d just done was impossible to ignore, but as he held you close, his steady presence and casual confidence made it hard to fully regret it, no matter how much you wanted to.

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Captain’s Girl. [Part I]

John Price x Reader (Call of Duty)

Synopsis: After Laswell pitches you a favor to join 141, you're left with no choice but to accept. The only problem arises when you and the Captain start to butt heads, but if the two of you hate each other as much as you say, then why is the rest of the team calling you his girl?

Tags: Enemies to lovers, tension, military romance, forbidden love, smut, fighting, secret feelings, slow burn.

Word count? You know the drill, it’s long.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

‘Captain John Price.’ You skimmed the document again, his name catching your eye for the third or fourth time. The black ink seemed to bleed together against the crisp paper of your enrollment documents into Special Forces Task Force 141. It was a promotion, and an honor at that, special forces to begin with were selective.

But 141 was almost unheard of, a combination of British special forces and American special forces. They were one of the best, and you were about to become a part of it. You read the documents again.

‘All personnel will be working under John Price and answering to Kate Laswell, respectively-’ Your eyes trailed further along the mess of columned words, making sense of the legality aspects of transferring to a new team. You hadn't expected to be transferred over, not until Kate had contacted you with an offer. You could tell she was put under pressure by the way her voice strained against the receiver…

“Look, I need you here. Ever since Shepard went rogue, we've been a bit tight over here. John has stepped in as commanding officer; technically, we already have a sharpshooter on 141. But we could use a hand, just until we sort out our bearings. Then, if you'd like, I can transfer you back to your current team…”

You'd raised an eyebrow, “Laswell, you're acting like I'm the only one who can fill these shoes. Why don't you hire a private contractor from KorTac? I'm sure they have more experience anyway.” You heard her blow out air from her nose, amused. “[Name], I don't think I have to tell you how much these guys hate private contractors. We need someone who can work as a collective team, you know… integrate themselves for the time being.”

You pursed your lips together, weighing out the pros and cons. However, Laswell was one of the best people you had ever met, a long-time friend since the baby days of your recruitment. She was a woman of her word, and she had your back. And if she said this team needed someone, she was being serious. You sighed, leaning back, “Okay, send me the details, Laswell. I'll think about it.”

…You read the contract one last time; it was simple enough. You would be transferred to 141 at the end of the month; it was a year-long contract. Which, in a way, made you a private contractor, too. The rest of 141 was under the impression that you were there to stay, everyone except the Captain and, of course, Laswell, not that she was on 141. If they decided they didn't need you before the contract ended, you could pick to stay for the remainder of the year or transfer back to your original task force.

A sigh left your mouth; you picked up your pen and flipped to the last page. Etching your signature into the blank line. You had till the end of the month; as of that moment, you were officially a member of 141.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Well, you had to give Laswell credit where credit was due. It had been a few weeks since your arrival and you fit in quite smoothly into 141; you believe she called it “integrating.” To nobody's surprise, the team was almost entirely men, aside from Ferrah, who was stationed elsewhere. It hadn't been long since your arrival until you were bound to run into someone; Jhonny was the first…

It was later in the day and you were wandering about; transferring to a new location was something you never got used to, so you tried to get a head start on mapping out the place. Everything was similar to your last base, but you still felt a bit alien. A small room tucked off to the side caught your eye, and you followed in that direction. It was a small break room, a kitchen, and a fridge tucked away in the side; there were a few cupboards and a single run-down couch.

You mosied over to the kitchen, opening cupboards and looking inside drawers. You found the usual silverware, mugs, napkins, junk, and tea bags. You stopped; tea actually sounded pretty good. Sitting on the counter was one of those electric tea kettles; you reached for it.

Waiting until the water was boiling, you grabbed the first mug you saw in the cupboard. As you dipped one of the tea bags into the scalding liquid, the door handle jostled across the room. You heard him before you saw him; his voice was deep, a bit raspy, with a thick Scottish accent. Walking through the door came a man dressed in sweatpants and a military-issued shirt. His head was shaved aside from a cropped mohawk of brown hair. His face was pulled into a subtle frown with his eyebrows furrowed. A phone pressed against his head by his shoulder.

You locked eyes with him, the pale spheres of his eyes boring into yours. You could tell he was studying you, maybe trying to deduce if he had seen you before or if you were a stranger. Suddenly, you heard muffled talking coming from the receiver of his phone. You looked down at your tea, not wanting to be considered rude for staring.

The man's voice came again, but it was almost unreadable. It was like a different language, probably Scottish, and then it stopped. When you looked back up, he was standing a few feet away from you, reaching into one of the cupboards.

“Sisters.”

You blinked; it took you a moment to understand he was talking to you. “I-What?” You asked, caught off guard by his comment. He looked back at you, holding up his phone. “S’who I was talking to.” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you nodded slowly; it was an odd way of making conversation. “Oh, okay…You uh- don't look too happy about it, family troubles?” You asked, his lips cracked into a soft smile, and he shook his head. “Nah, she's just a bit dafty. She's auld, so she feels the need to boss me around from time to time.”

You nodded along, trying to use context clues to understand some of his choice words. You watched him fill his mug with some water you had just boiled. “Ah, I see. I'm not sure I can relate; I'm the oldest sibling, so maybe I do all the bossing around.” He nodded, one of his thick eyebrows rasing, “How many siblings?”

You smiled, “Just two, a brother and sister.” The man hummed, looking down at his tea. “Gotcha…” A silence enveloped the room, and after another agonizing moment, he spoke up again. “You a new hire around here? Can't say I would forget a face like yours, lass.” You nodded, glad that the silence had been put to rest, a smile growing on your face at his comment. “Yeah, new transfer to 141.” Suddenly, his eyes grew more comprehensive, “You're the newbie?” He said, astonished.

You chuckled softly, “I wouldn't say newbie; I'm just a transfer from another unit.” His face cracked into a grin, “No kidding, apologies, didn't mean to come off as rude.” He held his hand out to you, “Johnny McTavish, team calls me Soap.”

Your eyebrows raised, “You're a part of 141?” His smile didn't fade as he nodded, “Aye, sharpshooter and sniper.” You felt a grin creeping up on your face; this Soap guy was friendly. Way friendlier than you thought the people on 141 would be. “I’m [Name]. I'm also a sharpshooter, but I also work with mechanics and firearms. Soap is…uh pretty interesting call sign, any meaning behind it?” You saw something in his eye; maybe it was pride, or perhaps something more sinister, “Well, when you clean out a room as fast as I do, people notice. You ain't got a callsign, Bonnie?”

You shook your head, “No, I guess my name has always just done the job.” Soap pat you on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you one.” You and Soap just talked for the next few minutes; it was nice. The conversation ebbed and flowed without problem; he nodded to the door after your tea was nearly empty. “Aye, Bonnie, why don’t I take you to meet the rest of the team? Give you a head start on the meet and greet.”

You smiled, “Yeah, why not?”

…The more time you spent with the team, the easier it got; it helped that they made good conversation. Jhonny was…well, Johnny, good sense of humor but never knew when to quit. Ghost was quieter; he didn't trust you immediately, but you'd managed to pull a few chuckles from him and the occasional polite conversation.

Kyle Garrick, or ‘Gaz,’ was an all-around good guy, funny, polite, and incredibly talented. You could never get over the time that you had gotten drunk off your ass, and Ghost told you a story of when Gaz fell out from a helicopter and was shooting at people while he was swinging from the airborne vehicle.

And then there was Price. Captain John Price, you'd met Price a day after Soap introduced you to the rest of the boys. To say the atmosphere was tense between you would be an understatement. From the minute he laid his eyes on you, they went stiff. His whole demeanor around you reminded you of a rock; it was like he didn't even want you on the team. His voice went curt, and whenever you spoke, his eyes bore holes into your head like he wanted to shoot lasers into your brain by just staring.

You'd talk about it to the rest of the team, but they shrugged it off. “Maybe he ain't used to you yet; it takes a while for the lad to trust anyone. He usually puts on the tough guy act for new recruits.” Ghost had said; Jhonny snorted at that. “Tough guy act? Dinnae, nothing bout that; when I first joined, the man made me want to pull out my hair. Think that's more than a tough guy act L.T.”

Usually, this wouldn't have bothered you as much as it did. But for some odd reason, he got under your skin like nobody else could. And believe, you were no stranger to difficult co-workers and bosses. Even worse, your first interaction with him was incredibly awkward, and you couldn't have left a good impression even if you had tried. It was almost etched into your mind like a stone tablet…

It was your last day to set up, get used to the team and your surroundings before you started working. The three days you had to relax were mostly spent either in the base gym, or eating in the cafeteria. What could you say, you were a creature of habit.

Until this point, you had met almost the entire team besides the captain. Technically, you weren’t required to meet him until you started working, but you'd already met everyone else. So, you figured it wouldn't hurt to get acquainted. You pried the information about Price’s whereabouts from Gaz: “I haven't seen him up and about today; usually, he's around. It probably means he's hauled up in his piss-poor office. The guy hates it there but usually locks himself up there when he's in a bad mood or has paperwork.”

Despite his warning, you went ahead and searched for Price’s office. That was mistake number one. After a minute or two of searching, you came across a door with the engraving “Price” carved into the wood in neat lettering. You reached for the door and tried to turn the handle, but nothing. It was locked; you frowned and tried again. But to nobody's surprise, the door remained shut.

So, you resorted to the next best thing. You knocked a few times but were met with radio silence. Maybe he wasn't in there, you chewed on your lip, thinking. There was a small window in the door, but it was covered by blinds. You squinted, pressing your hands to the wood and moving your face inches from the glass; you tried to peer inside despite the closed blinds. That was mistake number two.

“Can I help you?”

You jumped. The voice came from behind you. It was deep with a smooth British accent; you whirled around to face the person. Your eyes met what was possibly, in your opinion, sex on two legs. The man was tall and built like a tank, judging from how his biceps and chest filled out his cotton shirt. His face was stern, with short-cropped brown hair and a muttonchop beard. His eyes a deep shade of blue, you swallowed.

Damn.

You didn't believe you had a type, but this guy probably would've checked off all the boxes if you did. You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment; when he raised his eyebrow, you snapped out of your trance-like state. “I’m-uh looking for Captain Price. I thought I'd check his office, but I don't think he's there.” You cringed; your voice was rushed, a pitch higher, too.

The man crossed his arms; god, he could probably pop your head like a balloon with those things alone. “Well, you found him.” He said plainly. You stared at him briefly; of course, he was the captain. Why else would he be here? You wanted to punch yourself in the gut. “Oh,” you breathed, “great then. I wanted to introduce myself; I'm the new transfer.” You tried to muster up a confident smile, which most likely had the opposite effect, given he was looking at you like you'd grown a second head.

“[Name], I know. I read your file.” He deadpanned. His voice caught you a little off guard; he wasn't irritated per se, but he didn't seem happy about this introduction. You cleared your throat, “Great then, I'm sure Laswell told you I was coming?” You were grasping at strings here, trying to prolong the conversation.

“Yes. I'm well aware you are here. Laswell has a way of inserting help into my team.” You paused; well, that wasn't meant to be a compliment. Your smile faltered, and you looked around the room like this was some prank. “She said you guys needed someone…?”

Price nodded, his demeanor unsettlingly calm, “That’s her opinion. Now, I respect Laswell; she knows what she's doing. That doesn't mean I always agree with her; 141 was just fine, this is just a precaution on her part.”

You felt your eye twitch a little; you transferred from your other unit, the unit you were extremely close to, mind you… for this? You joined out of the kindness of your heart, only for this jackass to say you were ‘just a precaution.’ “Well, I hope you won't hold a grudge.” You said a bit curtly. Price pursed his lips together in a tight line.

“Wouldn't dream of it; a year is an awful long time to hold a grudge.” He said, the malice and ego coming off his tongue so strong you could almost taste it. What was this guy's problem with you? You did the nice thing and took time out of your day to introduce yourself to him. And he was treating you like you'd personally wronged him. “Good, then I won't either.” You breathed, frustrated. Price looked down at you, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “Well, that's good to hear; now, are you going to let me into my own office or keep standing there like a human blockade?”

This guy.

Your palms squeezed into fists, shooting him a nasty glare. You forgot you were standing right in front of the door, the embarrassment making the tips of your ears heat up. You pushed yourself to walk away, “It was nice meeting you, Captain.” You spit, venom in your tone, walking away like a wounded animal.

Suddenly, you somehow forgot about how hot he was; at that moment, you wanted to smash his gorgeous face into a wall. You liked your new Captain a lot more when he didn't speak. But the reality set in: John Price hated you for some unknown reason, and you were starting to hate him back.

…You had calmed down since that first encounter. Maybe it was a one-off thing; after all, you did go when Gaz warned you that he may already be in a bad mood. Maybe you had jumped the gun? and Price didn't hate you.

News flash: He hated you, and it was not a one-off encounter.

You were now a month into your new job, and if it weren't for Price, you would've actually been enjoying your time with 141. Everyone else was great; they were warming up to the idea of having you as a teammate. The training was hard on you, but you expected that, you were improving day to day. But no matter how well you did, you always had Price’s voice in your ear telling you that you could've done better. The man was running circles around you.

Slowly, you started to lose patience with him; when he laid out the bait, you bit. It was getting easier to react instead of keeping calm and passive-aggressively telling him you were grateful for the friendly criticism.

Even the team started to watch every interaction you had with the Captain keenly. They would tease you ruthlessly, saying his name while your back was turned just to laugh at the way your whole body seemed to go as stiff as a board.

“I swear the two of ya seem to bicker like an auld married couple. It's like watching my parents fight.” Soap had said to you once after an agitated conversation you'd had with Price moments before.

Was it your fault for causing some of the arguments between you two? Possibly. But he instigated just as much as you did; it was like a competition of who could get under the other's skin the most. And you couldn't even avoid him; Gaz wasn't kidding when he said he was out and about when Price wasn't in his office. He was like your shadow.

You were in the cafeteria? Oh, so was Price. You were in the gym? That's funny; Price was just about to do his workout. Training? He was practically glued to you and nitpicking everything you did. You were trying to go for a fucking walk around base past lights out? Price couldn't sleep, and as your captain, it was his obligation to make sure you didn't do anything stupid.

Intrusively, you wondered if he had implanted a tracker into you while you were sleeping. That had to be it; there was no way you just happened to experience so many ‘coincidences’ back to back. 

Eleven more months, you had eleven more months stuck with him. Maybe in that time, you could come up with a detailed plan on how you would murder, hide, and successfully get away with killing your Captain.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

It was one of those off days where you didn’t have much to do. Like the calm before the storm, 141 had an incoming operation; plans were laid out, and everyone knew what to do. All that was left was playing the waiting game before you loaded into the helicopter and landed in a checkpoint base in Urzikstan.

With nothing to do, you figured it wouldn't hurt to hide away in the break room with some tea and scroll on your phone. You rarely had time to yourself, so you might as well make the best of it. You peeked into the break room and smiled when you found it was empty. You made a beeline to the small kitchen counter; you'd managed to snag some different types of tea for yourself over the few weeks you had been at base. It was the floral and sweet kind that nobody touched, despite Ghost's comment that: “It's not real tea.” You found it incredibly enjoyable.

As you turned on the electric kettle, the doorknob jostled. You looked up, and your eyes met Price. Well, shit. He made eye contact with you. Obviously, the feeling between you two was mutual based on how his lips dropped into a frown when he saw you. You stared at each other for a beat before you turned your head away.

You weren't doing this today; you were too tired to bicker with your captain over something useless. You stared at the counter, waiting for him to leave or speak. But he did neither. Instead, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a mug. The silence between you was so loud that the room might've been quieter if you were arguing.

He was close, not enough that you were touching, but enough that his presence almost tickled your skin.

You just continued to watch the counter and your mug. Glancing at the kettle, you almost grimaced; it was barely bubbling. When did boiling water take so long? The tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. But, Price was the first to crack.

“Interesting mug,” he commented, his voice as it always was when he spoke to you. Dry. You debated not responding, but the silence was killing you just as much. “It's my favorite.” You said back, matching his tone. However, your eyes were soft as you looked at the mug before you. It was ceramic, with hand-painted fish drawn onto it. Cod, salmon, tuna, and swordfish, too, their colors vibrant compared to the barren beige of the rest of the cup.

He made a low hum sound, almost like he didn't believe you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you finally turned to look at him. You stopped briefly; his eyes had heavier bags than the last time you'd seen him. He didn't look as stern or unshakeable as usual; rather, he looked more weary, human. You forgot you were going to say something to him, “What?” You said, suspicious.

His eyes broke away from yours, looking down at his hands as they tore away the top of an instant coffee packet. Price emptied its contents into his plain white mug and cleared his throat. “Nothing, s’just that's my mug.” He said; his voice wasn't mad or accusatory. Instead, it was just like he was stating a fact.

You frowned, your eyebrows sinking further down your face. What was he talking about? You'd been using this mug for weeks; in fact, this was the first mug you'd used here, back when you first met Jhonny and the rest of the team. “That's not true; all the mugs in the cupboard are communal.” You pointed out, looking at him like you'd caught him in a bad lie.

He looked back at you, an almost smugness to his gaze. “Look at the bottom of the cup.” He said plainly. Your frown deepened, but you grabbed the mug and turned it over in your hands out of curiosity.

JP. It was painted in small lettering in the middle of the circular bottom. Your face dropped. Oh. JP, standing for John Price. It was his mug. Your face reddened as you realized you had been drinking out of his cup for the past month. Why hadn’t he said anything about it to you before now? He obviously knew, considering he'd seen you drink from it before.

You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a good defense. “But- Jhonny told me all the mugs in the break room were for everyone. Including this one.” You said, pointing at the mug in your hands.

Price raised one eyebrow, “And you believed him?” He said. The gears in your head started to turn; the guy had a point. Why had you trusted him of all people? You pinched the bridge of your nose between your fingers, “fucking christ Soap.” You muttered, primarily to yourself.

The steaming whistle of the kettle broke your train of thought, and your head snapped in its direction. You looked from the boiling kettle to the mug in your hand, a sigh exiting your chest. You held out the mug to him, “Here. It's yours, I'll get another one.”

Price looked surprised for a beat before his face went neutral again. He shook his head, pushing the mug back towards you. “No need; I've already got this one.” He grunted, nodding to the plain white mug sitting on his side of the counter. Before you could protest, he grabbed the kettle, pouring the hot water into his mug. Your nose scrunched as the aroma of instant coffee hit you.

He raised an eyebrow at your visceral reaction, “Not a fan of coffee now, are we?”

You cleared your throat, looking away from the blackening devil concoction. “I like coffee-” You clarified, “-just not that instant crap; it tastes like sewer water.” The curve of his lip twitched into a half-amused smile. Bringing the mug to his lips and taking a hearty sip, “noted.” Price hummed. You reached out to grab the kettle, but he handed it over to you before you could.

You raised your eyebrow; this was the closest thing you'd ever had to a friendly conversation with your Captain. You skeptically took it, breathing a ‘thanks’ to him. A comfortable silence fell on the both of you; Price could drink his coffee while you waited for your tea to brew.

Your eyes seemed to pull towards his direction as you waited, observing the curve of his lips, his nose that was just a bit crooked, and the coarse hair of his beard that thinned into stubble the further down his neck it went. You watched his adams apple bob as he swallowed his drink and how his large hand seemed to make the mug seem small. He somehow pulled off looking like he hadn't slept in weeks, which ticked you off somewhat.

He shot you a sideways glance, “You're staring.” Price said flatly; you looked like a deer caught in headlights. “I was…zoning out. And for the record, I was looking at the-uh wall behind you.” You cringed at yourself; the long pauses and uhs weren't adding to your credibility.

Price gave you a funny look, turning to look at the refrigerator behind him, which was most definitely not a wall. He turned back to you, “The wall you said?”

Well, shit, thanks, captain obvious. You frowned, giving up, “It doesn't matter-” you huffed, “Point is, I was zoned out.”

That answer seemed to satisfy him or at least force him to drop the subject; Price shrugged and took another sip from his mug. “Let's hope you don't make a habit out of it. Wouldn't want to add that to the other list of…qualities you have.” Here we go again. You raised an eyebrow, the edge in his tone all too familiar. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “Which are?”

Price cleared his throat, gesturing his mug to you and your tea. “Theavory, for one.” Well, he got you there. You blew out air from your nose, the closest thing to a laugh you'd let him pull from you.

“Funny.” You said sarcastically.

A small smile tugged at his lips, “Yeah, well, just trying to lighten the mood between us.”

There was a pause.

The way he said ‘between us’ didn't sit right with you; what he said had undertones of bitterness, almost similar to the layers of an onion. Now, was it possible that you were reading too much into this? Yes. Was it also a tone-deaf thing to say, considering he was the primary reason you two didn't like each other in the first place? Also yes.

Don't bite the bait; don't bite the bait, “The mood you created?” You bit the bait.

He glanced at you, one of his eyebrows arching. For a second, it was silent, like he was mulling over whether it was worth it to engage. Price sighed, setting his drink down. “Look… [Name], if this is about that time when we first met, I was in a bad mood. I wasn't trying to be harsh; I'd just had a shit day. Nothing personal on you.” He craned his neck to the side, sliding a hand over his nape.

You crossed your arms. “You could've apologized,” you pointed out. Price paused, staring at you quizzically, “Why would I need to apologize?”

You almost gaped at him; his ego seemed to know no bounds. If it wasn't so irritating, it might have been comical, “You called my job a ‘precaution,’ and me, a ‘human blockade-’” You deadpanned, “-I don't like when someone downplays my whole career.” Price just stared at you blankly, his face morphing into more confusion.

“But you are a precaution.” He said, “That's the whole reason why Laswell put you here.” It was like he was explaining something to a child.

You huffed, “Captain. With all due respect, I'm a part of this team whether we like it or not. I don't want to be treated like an outsider- everyone else here seems to treat me like I belong here so why don't you? What's not to trust?” You questioned, your eyebrows pinched together and your lips pressed into a not-so-subtle frown.

“You don't belong here, though,” Price said frostily. “You're here for a year [Name], no more, no less. You belong to a different task force, so excuse me if I treat you as such.”

You stood there, stunned for a moment. A familiar feeling of resentment bubbling up inside you like the electric tea kettle. Your hands squeezed the ceramic of your mug, “Just because I'm not here to stay doesn't mean I'm any less committed to my job. I work my ass off every day to show you that I belong here. I just don’t understand why you’re too stubborn to even see that.” You huffed.

Price pursed his lips into a tight line, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer. “I don't have time to micro-manage everything you do. That's not stubborn; it's having other responsibilities besides making you feel included.”

Well, if he hadn't made you feel like a toddler before, he definitely was now. “Well, that's funny because you seem to do a perfectly good job at micromanaging everything I do despite your ‘lack of free time.’ And- I’m not asking you to make me feel included; I’m not an infant. I’m asking you to treat me with the same respect you treat everyone else with.” You hissed.

It didn’t surprise you how quickly the polite interaction with him turned into another bitter argument. When it came to Price, emotions ran high. Higher than you would like to admit.

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a child, I would respect you more.” He bit back, and you groaned, throwing your hands up in the air.

“I’m not though- I’m clearly telling you the problem between us. But since you have this…this grudge against me you won’t even listen to me.” You huffed.

Price shot you a look that said, ' I'm winning this argument, and there is nothing you can say to stop that.’ 

Internally, you wondered if getting dishonorably discharged was worth throwing hot tea into your captain's stupid face. Instead, you decided to look away, setting your mug on the counter with a sharp ‘clank.’ “Fine then, don't listen to me. That works, too.” You breathed through your teeth.

Price downed the rest of his coffee, throwing his head back and then setting his mug upside down in the small sink. He turned his whole body to you, crossing his arms. His blue eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows pinched together in scrutiny. “You want me to listen? Go ahead. Say what you want; I'm all ears.”

Your voice died in your throat. As much as you wanted to give him a piece of your mind, you didn't put up much of a fight against him, especially not with his ‘I'm the Captain, and you are one word away from cleaning toilets’ voice.

You pressed your lips together in a tight line, and the silence between you hung dangerously quiet for another moment. “Nothing, Captain.” You said through your teeth.

Price nodded, his eyes drilling holes into you, “That's what I thought. Now, it better stay that way for the duration of the next week or so help me; I will take away every privilege you have.” With that, he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out. Leaving you, a seething statue.

You looked down at his mug, still held tightly in your hand. You glared at the painted fish, “Fuck you.” You whispered to the watercolor salmon. Your frown deepened, substantially disappointed that whispering ‘fuck you’ to your Captain's mug didn't carry the same satisfaction you'd feel if you said it straight to his face.

Arguing with him was like arguing with a brick wall. Scratch that. Arguing with Price was worse than arguing a brick wall, a brick wall wouldn't intimidate you and then storm off.

You didn't feel like finishing your tea anymore. You grit your teeth together, dumping the liquid into the sink and watching as it slides down the drain. You had a few days before the mission, and you were going to make sure that you didn't fuck anything up. Lest you suffer the wrath of Price and your own self-doubt.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“Shit!”

Your head snapped toward the voice, even with the night vision gear you had everything was difficult to identify. It was safe to say you weren't a fan.

It had been 72 hours since you landed in Urzikstan, and 4 hours since you left the checkpoint base. If you had to guess, it was most likely around 0300 standard military time. Which meant you and the rest of 141 only had another two hours before you had to evacuate and hop on the trucks back to the checkpoint.

Your orders were simple enough, break into the compound and locate the underground terror group that was allegedly creating a bio-warfare laboratory. While it wasn't concreated information British and American SAS couldn't risk not sending a team to see if the tip was accurate. Being the genuine pigs of the situation didn't sit right with you but you weren't employed for your opinion on what the government chose to do and not do.

Still, being sent on a wild goose chase or worse into a trap made you more on edge. Everyone had paired up in case this was a setup and because the universe could never let you win you were grouped with Price. Which brought you back to the present moment.

“Price whats going on? talk to me.” You said in response to his curse. Trying to keep your voice as low as you could while still being audible. You weren't an expert but typically someone hissing ‘shit!’ wasn't a good sign.

In the split second before he could respond you heard the click. Along with the sound of Price’s footsteps trying to get out of the way, then came the sharp boom of a gun being fired. Only after the sound had left the barrel of the gun did you see it. The building wasn't finished, half of the construction was halted, leaving rooms unfinished, walk-offs, and random piles of rubble. Hidden behind a cement pillar a floor above, looking down at you was a person. More importantly a person behind a giant ass gun.

Shit!

You immediately threw yourself out of the way, ducking yourself behind a large amount of rubble. Your eyes scanned for Price in the darkness, frantically making sense of the objects around you. Another fire. Followed by another one. You didn't have time to look for Price. You turned your body, shielded by the debris, and pointed your gun up. It didn't take long before you locked onto the figure, you drew your breath in and pulled the trigger. The firing stopped.

You peered up over the rubble just in time to see the limp body flop over the drop-off and slam into the concrete. You were met with a deafening silence, “Price you copy?”

After a moment you heard someone move, “Yeah-” Your shoulders dropped, a breath you didn't realize you were holding escaped. You never thought hearing that deep British voice would ever make you this relieved. “Yeah, I copy.” He breathed. You stood, carefully making your way over to the corpse of your attacker. Looking down at the body, their face hidden by a cloth and glazed-over eyes looking up at the ceiling.

You grimaced, it was like looking at a dead fish. You looked up, nobody else was above. The only thing remaining was the unaccompanied sniper.

“This guy was alone.” You said, eyebrows furrowing. “And his aim was shit.” You deadpanned. Your head turned, expecting to meet Price. But were only greeted by an empty space, “Price?” You asked looking around.

“Over here.” He gruffed, you turned around. Price was standing next to a wall, his palm flat against its surface. It was like he was leaning against it, your eyes narrowed. His left leg was slightly raised off the ground, something wasn't right.

You jogged over to him, “What's the matter?” you asked, because of the night vision goggles coupled with the amount of gear he was wearing you couldn't see his face well. However, you didn't miss the way his jaw flexed. Before he could respond you pinpointed the issue. The leg that was raised had a small bullet-sized hole in his boot.

“Shit.” You breathed.

This really wasn't what you needed. You and Price had to be out of the compound in the next hour and a half, being shot in the foot was a major problem. At least it wasn't an organ, you thought. “Can you still walk?” You asked.

Price put his foot on the ground, putting his weight on it. You cringed as he let out a quiet hiss, “Yeah just fuckin’ hurts like hell.” He took a step, he was limping but he could walk. Which was a small win for both of you. Just as you opened your mouth someone spoke in your ear piece.

“[Name], Price, you copy? We heard shots.” The voice was grave, deep, with a thick British accent. Ghost.

Price answered, “We’re fine. Bastard with a sniper nicked my foot. Did any of you find the lab yet?” He said through clenched teeth, despite your dislike of your captain you felt a little guilty. If you'd seen the shooter before Price would probably be fine.

“We just found it, nobody’s here. S’a fuckin’ ghost town… no pun intended.” Ghost’s staticky voice rang in your ear, if you were in a better situation you might have laughed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned.

“That makes no sense.” You chimed in, “If this guy was here there should be more people. It doesn't make sense for only one person to be set up here.” You looked at Price. His head was already turned to look at you. It was a beat before anyone spoke again.

“Price.” A raspy Scottish accent this time. Soap. “The labs empty, no inventory at all. Everything is sterile.” You felt your throat run dry, the silence on the radio spoke louder than anything you or anyone else could say. Either they evacuated before the team had gotten there or the whole building was a ruse.

You looked back at the corpse lying a few feet away from you and Price. “They knew we were coming.” You breathed. The weight of your words seemed to carry for miles, but the implications might have been worse. You looked at Price, the same thoughts you had probably already running through his head. “We need to fucking leave, right now.”

Price gave a small nod, “Everyone get out. Gaz, call for emergency evac now. Leave the same way we came do not under any circumstances go further into this building.” Price demanded. Which was followed by a series of ‘copies.’ You started for the way you entered, just as you reached the empty doorframe you heard a grunt behind you. You looked back, fuck. You forgot Price was hurt, fuck, fuck, fuck. He could walk but there was no way he could run with his foot.

You doubled back, and as you ran to him Price raised his hands. Almost in protest, “I can keep up, I'm not immobile.” He exhaled, and you shot him an unimpressed look. The situation was bad enough, you weren't going to deal with this. You couldn't waste time and walking on a bad foot would only worsen it for Price in the long run.

You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, one arm grabbed the back of his vest, holding his side up so his injured foot didn't hit the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable but it worked.

Price opened his mouth but you spoke before he could get a word in. “You can't keep up and you know it. Whatever problems we have don't matter right now, we've got to get out of here. God knows what the people who were here before us did to this place. But we don't have time to think about that-” Your eyes met his, the red hue of the night vision goggles making his navy eyes seem black. “-I’d much rather keep you alive but I would gladly die with you than have it be my fault that you die. So shut the fuck up and move.”

That seemed to do the trick because Price did in fact, shut the fuck up. You quickly exited with Price. It wasn't as fast as you would've liked to leave but it was the best you could do with a six-foot tank of a man leaning against you.

A few minutes later you and Price successfully made it out. The rest of the team was already waiting a ways away from the building, you let out a relieved sigh. Just being out of the compound seemed to lift a weight off your chest and calm your racing heart. Price seemed to feel the same way judging by his taunt muscles relaxing slightly.

You made your way over to the team, Ghost was the first to notice you. He did a slight double-take as he saw Price, “Thought you said the bloke nicked you?” He commented, you gently released Price letting him lean against the outside wall of an abandoned house.

Price grunted, “Yeah well he nicked me good.” He said back, Ghost nodded. Soap and Gaz peered at the bloody hole in his boot, “That’s gonna be a pain to heal I’ll tell you that.” Soap commented, and Gaz nodded along. “No kidding.”

Price’s frown deepened, and he let out a breath. “Gaz how long till evac trucks pick us up?” Gaz looked out at the open area then looked back, “I’d say twenty minutes give or take.” That answer seemed to give Price a little peace.

A few minutes had gone by, and Soap, Ghost, and Gaz were all talking with you while Price leaned against the wall silently. You glanced at your Captain, gingerly making your way over you leaned against the wall a few inches away from him. You didn't know what to say if you should say anything for that matter. Making conversation with Price wasn't your strong suit, but you felt bad.

“So…you okay?” You asked dumbly, Price gave you a look that made you want to go right back to the others. He was silent for a beat before speaking. “I got shot in the foot [Name], you tell me.” He deadpanned.

You swallowed, nodding. Asshole. No matter, you decided to take it in stride, “Right.” You breathed, “I just… wanted to check.” On second thought maybe you really should leave, it was like you were communicating with an alien. And after your last argument with Price, you walked on eggshells whenever you were around him.

The stretch of silence between the two of you lasted longer than you would've liked. But after a moment Price cleared his throat and nodded, “Thank you.” He said.

You did a bit of a double-take, thank you? Price never thanked you. It was like he was allergic to congratulating or acknowledging you in any form that wasn't to reprimand you. You must've looked as confused as you felt by the way he glanced at you and then went on. “For helping me out of there, you were prepared for the worst back there and you still had my back. I appreciate that-”

“-you uh, you did good.” He clarified.

Your mouth was probably hanging open at this point, ‘you did good.’ The words hung in the air around you, filling your ears with cotton. Price your captain, Price your mortal enemy had praised you. He gave you a sideways glance, “Don't look so shocked [Name], you're still on thin ice.”

Ah, there it was, your shoulders slumped. It was better than nothing though, “Right, uhm thank you.” You said a bit awkwardly, Price gave you a small nod in return. It wasn't much, but it was acknowledgment.

After some time passed by you and the rest of 141 loaded into the trucks, starting the long drive to the checkpoint base. You tried to lean your head back and get just a little bit of rest, but after thirty minutes of failing to do so, you gave up. There was just too much in your head, too many unanswered questions. You thought about the man you'd killed, why was he there? What was the use of evacuating a building if you just left a single sniper with terrible aim lying in wait for someone to come looking around?

Did that mean they didn't know 141 specifically was coming? The question that worried you the most was the fact that if they did plan for you to raid the lab, who on the inside was feeding these people your team's operations? You shuddered. It was bad enough that commanding officer Shepard went rogue a few months prior. The SAS really didn't need another mole. Especially considering the amount of enemies the American and British military had made.

Your shoulders slumped, it didn’t really matter, what mattered was that everyone made it out. You didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if the previous occupants had left explosives inside the building. It was better to just be thankful that nothing happened.

Your first operation with 141 had been a bust, but considering the circumstances you thought it went as well as it could’ve. Not counting Price’s foot.

Subconsciously your eyes drifted over to Price, his boot had been taken off and his foot was wrapped in white garb. Just until someone could look at it properly, everyone had taken their night visions and helmets off to get some shut-eye. Your gaze drifted up until they met his face, navy eyes met yours. You froze, you hadn't realized Price was awake. The two of you didn't break eye contact for a minute, almost like a challenge of who would be the first to look away.

“You make a habit of staring at people or is it just me?” He deadpanned. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, he could never let you catch a break, could he?

“I wasn't staring, and you were looking at me too.” You defended, it didn't matter if you were staring, he wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you confess that. One of his thick eyebrows raised, “I glanced at you. There's a difference, you just happened to look up at the same time.” He said back, calm as ever.

You half rolled your eyes, he could word it however he wanted to, but in the end, it was pretty much the same thing. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” You hummed, matching his nonchalance. Your gaze dropped back down to his bandaged foot, “How’s the foot?” You asked, hoping he wouldn't catch you changing the subject.

Price grunted, his head lulling back onto the seat. You shot a glance at his adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down before averting your eyes. “Feels like I got shot in the foot, so…not great. It's better than an organ so I won't complain that much.” He breathed.

You nodded, “You ever been shot before?” you asked, what could you say? You were curious. He nodded, clearing his throat he cast his head down to look at his chest. One of his hands pulled up his bullet vest and shirt revealing the beginnings of his abdomen, right above his hip bone there was a small scar. “Two years ago, caught me while I was down. Took forever to heal, fuckin’ hurt like hell too.”

You zeroed in on the exposed skin, it was all muscle, no surprises there. The man was built like a 4x6 brick, his skin was shiny with sweat, and from what you could see his bullet scar wasn't the only one that littered his skin. Just below the dipped fabric of his shirt was the start of a happy trail. You swallowed.

What the fuck was wrong with you? A few days ago you were plotting how you could murder him and now you're ogling a sliver of his stomach like a horny teen girl.

You absolutely did not find a single part of your boss attractive. Forget your first interaction with him when you were practically gaping over him like a fish. That didn't count. This was Price you were talking about. Sure, he was conventionally attractive with just the right amount of ruggish charm to make him mysterious. And yeah, he was built like a tank, so what? And you couldn't forget about his stupid fucking British accent, who the hell was into British accents anyways? (You were. Embarrassingly so.)

Price looked up at you, the silence making you raise an eyebrow. “See something you like aye?” He said, amusement dripping from his voice. Your eyes immediately snapped back to his face, embarrassment churning away at your insides.

“You wish,” You said back. So maybe you found some parts of your Captain hot, that didn't matter. In the end, it was still Price. And the flames of hatred don't die out just because one's enemy is a little (a lot) attractive.

Price breathed out what sounded like a laugh, he dropped the shirt. “Keep telling yourself that [Name].” Your fists squeezed together as he threw your words back at you.

You glared at him, “You're so full of it you know that?” You breathed, which only seemed to pique his interest further. You were glad the rest of the team was either sleeping or so used to your fighting that at this point they tuned you out. Jumping off a cliff seemed nice in comparison to the ruthless teasing that Soap and Ghost would enact if they found out you'd been caught ogling Price.

“Didn't realize this would strike a nerve, any particular reason why?” He said, you grimaced. You could almost taste the smugness from his tongue like syrup, “It didn't.” You said through your teeth, “Then again, egotistical men are a pain to be around. Especially ones that think everyone around them wants them.” You grumbled.

Your words seemed to have the opposite effect, Price straightened. A small tug at his lip made you want to slap that smirk right off. “I never said you wanted me, but liars always do have a way of telling on themselves don't they?” He grinned.

Something flashed in his eyes, you didn't have time to see what it was. But right now, all your willpower was devoted to not picking up your gun and giving him a matching hole in his right foot. “I think I'd rather shoot myself than be anything but professional with you.” You said frostily.

Price hummed, the smirk never leaving his face and he leaned back. “Glad the feeling is mutual.” He spoke calmly.

Your eye twitched, he was pulling that card now. Reverse physiology or whatever it was, the ‘I don't have to want you but you have to want me.’ Well too bad you didn't care, you couldn't care less. If Price didn't want you that was great-better even.

“Yeah,” You huffed, “Super glad.” You turned your head away so you didn't have to look in his direction. Maybe you should've left him in that building, it was a tempting thought. The rest of the drive back to the checkpoint was spent in silence.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The base felt dreary, everyone was still in a funk from the previous night. Everything felt just a bit more surreal, nobody was talking about what happened either. Not that there really was anything to discuss.

The checkpoint base wasn't as nice as your previous base. It wasn't even a full building, there were a few small ones but those were mostly used to store weapons. Everything else was industrial-sized tents, making privacy a luxury. It didn't even have a proper barracks, just a large tent with several stretcher-like beds placed in rows. To be completely honest the entire thing was a pile of shit. But it was a roof over your head so there was that.

You sat at a bench in the ‘commons,’ a poor excuse for food sitting in front of you. Gaz sat next to you while Ghost and Jhonny sat across from you. They all had similar grimaces plastered on their faces as they ate their protein paste.

“If I have to eat this shite for another day I'm going to go into that food storage room and light the thing up. They got us eating like dogs.” Ghost said after draining the last of his rations. You half-heartedly agreed, humming a sound of approval that was accompanied by Gaz’s small chuckle.

Soap grinned, “Don't get yer panties in a twist just yet L.T, heard they're serving dessert paste too. Courtesy of Price’s injury.”

You shivered, it sounded just as bad if not worse. Then a thought popped up, you looked around the common space. “Hey, you guys seen Price? Isn't he eating?” You hadn't seen him for almost the entire day, which was a blessing for you but it did strike you as odd when normally you couldn't get rid of him.

Gaz shrugged, “He was in the medical tent last time I saw him. The guy was getting his foot looked at, he’ll probably show up soon.”

Ghost turned his head to face you, while it was a little hard to tell with his balaclava, one of his eyebrows raised. “Awful concerned about Price aren't you? Thought you hated the man.” Your lips curled into an exasperated frown.

“I'm not. And I do hate him. I was just curious.” You brushed him off, trying to avoid his stony gaze. Soap and Gaz exchanged looks that made your eyebrows furrow.

Gaz looked at you, “What about the other day when you helped him out of the building?” Soap was next to chime in, “Or that you use his mug all the time and he lets you?”

You shot Gaz a glare, “First, he's still my Captain I'm not going to leave him in a building where I think he's going to die.” Then you directed a similar glare at Soap, “Second, I didn't know it was his mug because you tricked me into thinking the mugs were communal.” You said through your teeth.

Ghost smirked, “Sounds like you care.”

Your hands gripped the table with unnecessary force. “I do not.” You defended, the looks exchanged between them made you want to crawl into a hole. Suddenly you weren't as inclined to finish your meal. You stood, grabbing your tray of half-eaten food and trash. “I'm not hungry anymore.” You said dryly.

Soap laughed, faking a disappointed frown. “Come on lass we were just getting started with ya. Where's the fun in leaving before the real jokes start?” You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the bench and walking towards the trash.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny,” you replied as you dumped the remanence of your ‘lunch’ in the trash. Just as you were exiting the tent Soap's voice called out to you.

“Oh, if you see the old fart, tell him his dessert paste is waiting for him!” That earned an amused tug at the corner of your lips, shaking your head in exasperation as you pushed past the floppy tent entrance.

You didn't even make it a foot outside before your momentum was halted by a larger mass. Your face met something hard, but also somehow soft at the same time. You stumbled back, gaining back your balance from the force of running into something. Or more specifically, someone. You looked up in dismay to see what kind of idiot ran into you.

It was Price, because of fucking course it was.

But it was Price with the addition of a single crutch and a newly wrapped foot. Your eyes slowly crept up to his face, the mortifying reality that you slammed right into his chest setting in. What’s worse was that the previous conversation with the guys was still very fresh in your mind.

‘Sounds like you do care,’ Ghost’s words echoed in your mind, haunting you like a…well a ghost. Ironic.

“Do you mind?” Price's words snapped you out of your trance. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. It was silent for a moment before your vocal cords decided to actually comply and let you speak.

“You ran into me.” You said lamely, the tips of your ears felt hot. Like lava was slowly being poured onto your head. Price’s eyebrows furrowed, his navy eyes studying you. Even on one crutch, he seemed to tower over you in a way that made you antsy.

“Why are you red?” He asked, the question caught you off guard. Making you falter for a second time, “I-What?”

Price’s eyes narrowed a bit, a finger pointed directly at you. “Your face. It's red,” It wasn't a jab, more like he was observing a simple fact. Suddenly you became hyper-aware of the heat spreading across your face. You touched your cheek, and the pads of your fingers burned at the touch.

Oh my god.

Your face was hot, it was flushed. You were blushing. Blushing. In front of Price.

You swallowed, feeling a bob in your throat. It was like you were in one of those dreams where you showed up to school naked. “I'm allergic-” You blurted out.

A beat of silence ensued, and Price raised a single brow. “Allergic?” He said, to which you responded with a hard nod. Think, think- what was a believable lie? “Yes… to the dessert paste.”

Price didn't look skeptical now, he just looked downright confused. “What the hell is dessert paste?” He questioned, while a good question, you didn't want to stand around to explain it to him while your face looked like the cover of a period ad. You shook your head, steering around him like a robot.

“Ask soap.” You said as you made your escape, “I'm going to the med tent so I don't go into anaphylactic shock.”

That was a lie, you were going to the bathroom to rethink your career and splash cold water on your face. Leaving Price a standing statue, a perplexed look on his face.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

A pack of 8 beers was slammed down onto the small table in front of where you were sitting. The bottles lightly clanked together, you looked up. “What’s this?” You asked, Soap stood in front of you with a confident grin.

“This is how we’re going to make it through our last 10 hours in this shit hole.” He proclaimed, his hands on his hips.

It was late, everyone but Price was in the sleeping tent. True to Soap’s words, in 10 hours you and the rest of 141 were finally going to load up into the heli and return to the original base. Thank goodness too, you didn't think you could stomach another meal here. Ghost looked over from his cott, “The hell did you get that from?”

Soap waved him off, smoothing over his poor example of a mohawk. “A magician never reveals his secrets.” He fished into his pant pocket and pulled out a pocket knife, grabbing one of the bottles he flicked the cap off with a soft pop’ “Since it is our last night, why not celebrate?” He went on.

You eyed the pack suspiciously, if it came from here it was probably shit beer. But it was still something, you shrugged. You reached for one, “I'll take what I can get.” You sighed.

Grabbing a bottle you snatched Soap’s knife to knock off the cap. Throwing your head back as you took a generous swig, it burned down your throat. The pungent flavor making your nose scrunch and your mouth curl. Soap did the same, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Well…It could be worse.” He muttered.

Ghost and Gaz followed suit, walking over to your space and grabbing two bottles. After some time had passed the four of you had settled into a sort of circle, you were two beers in and things were already getting fuzzy. You didn't normally drink, mostly because you were a lightweight. But when you did drink, you got drunk. You were tipping your head back with laughter at every story, the warmth in your stomach making the tent somehow feel cozy.

Soap reached for his third bottle but Gaz swatted his hand away, “Leave some for Price Jhonny.” He scolded, Soap simply rolled his eyes and groaned. “The old man won't care, he only drinks at those shitty pubs. He's a stickler bout not drinkin’ on base, something about ‘not mixing business with pleasure’” He mocked, doing in your opinion, a decent Price impression. You chucked.

“I don't think Price takes ‘pleasure’ in anything, he's such a stick up the ass he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face.” You breathed, and while not the most articulate thing to say, your tongue and thoughts were loose enough that you didn't care.

Ghost’s mouth curled into a knowing smirk, “For someone who hates Price, you sure do love to talk about him any chance someone brings him up.” He said smugly, earning snickers from both Soap and Gaz.

“Oh fuck off will you?” You grumbled to Ghost, this whole teasing you about Price thing was getting old fast. “I say one thing and you guys act like I have some schoolgirl crush on him.”

Soap grinned, “You said it lass, not us.” He coughed abruptly when you smacked him in the stomach, making him lean forward to catch his breath. You glanced at Ghost who’s hands were now raised in surrender.

“Come off it [Name], we’re just teasing, you're not doing yourself any favors by acting with him the way you do.” He commented, which only confused you. All you did was argue with him, where was there room for speculation? The look on your face must've told them everything they needed to know.

“What do I do that gives off that impression even remotely?” You said defensively, they all exchanged looks.

Soap spoke up, “It's not just you bonnie, Price acts differently around you too. It just gives off a certain impression. Some people just take it the wrong way.” There was an underlying uncomfortableness to his words that you didn't miss. And who were ‘some people??’

Ghost smacked him upside the head, earning a startled grunt. “Fuckin’ twat, Soap doesn't know what he's saying.” Ghost said facing you. “He's already tipsy, don't take what he's saying to heart.” Soap was holding his head, shooting a glare at the lieutenant.

You shook your head, not ready to let it go. “No, who's some people? And what did you mean when you said ‘taking it the wrong way?’” Your eyes narrowed in on all three of them, waiting for someone to speak first. Gaz looked away, immediately giving him away as the weakest link. “Gaz what's he talking about?” You asked firmly.

He tensed up, glancing at Ghost and then back to you. “It's really nothing, it's just a silly rumor.” Ghost shot him a firm look, “Kyle-” He warned.

A rumor? What the hell was there to talk about? The last time you'd heard of a rumor going around about yourself was in high school, it wasn't a pleasant experience, to say the least. Your lips pursed into a tight line, something about how secretive they were being set you off. “What rumor?” You said, after a minute of silence, you slowly got more frustrated. “If it's about me I deserve to know.”

Ghost didn't speak, neither did Gaz, but Soap did. He blew out a sigh, glancing back at Ghost who was maintaining strict eye contact with you. “There is a bit of a widespread rumor back at base that you've been shaggin’ the boss. People started calling you Captain’s Girl.”

The pit of your stomach dropped.

You felt dizzy, looking between the three of them. Waiting for one of them to break, to smile and say ‘got you!’ but it never came. “You're joking right?” You said, laughing nervously, the longer the silence the more nauseous you became.

Ghost shook his head, his eyes hard but his demeanor a bit solemn. “We didn't want you to know for obvious reasons. Thought it would make things worse between the two of ya’ and it was just too far.” You swallowed, this was a joke. This was a joke and they were just teasing. When nobody spoke after the reality set in.

Of course, this would happen to you, you worked your ass off just to be respected in a field dominated by men. You were asked to be a part of 141. But all people saw was a slut who worked her way up the ladder by playing Miss ‘Hard to Get.’

“We tried to stop it as best we could trust us, it's just a little hard to keep quiet when word spreads fast,” Gaz interjected, his eyebrows scrunched in…guilt? Second-hand embarrassment? Sadness? You couldn't tell.

You sat there in silence, processing everything. “But- but I'm not. I'm not sleeping with him.” You sputtered.

Soap placed a hand on your shoulder, “We know you ain't. You don't need to listen to those people anyways, it's just barrack talk, people needing a story to make their lives more interesting.” A well of emotions started to flood your senses, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the gravity of the situation hitting you.

Captain’s girl.

What. The. Fuck.

This was Price’s fault. It had to have been, Soap said he was acting weird. Maybe this was all his elaborate plan to destroy your career and kick you off 141 for fraternization. It had to have been him, right? You weren't thinking as clearly as you would have liked considering you were borderline drunk, but that didn't matter. You shot up from where you were sitting, making Soap jump.

Stumbling you started to make a beeline for the entrance, Gaz also got up and followed you, much to your chagrin. “[Name]? Where are you going??” He called after you.

“To find Price!” (And kill him.) You shouted back angrily, storming outside before Gaz had the chance to stop you. Obviously, you didn't think this through enough because it was pitch dark outside. And Price was nowhere in sight, fuck.

Whatever, you could search this place for hours if you had to. He was bound to pop up somewhere, like how the tide is drawn to the moon you and Price always had a way of being pulled into each other. You stormed through the dark, almost tripping on your own feet once or twice in the process.

You'd been there long enough that you could tell what area was what. Even in the pitch-black cloak of the dark, you could feel your heartbeat in your head. It was like your body was pulsing with the rhythm of your anger. Just as you were about to start shouting his name a light caught your eye. You swiveled your neck so fast it burned the muscles in your nape. Low and behold it was Price walking out of the medical tent with his single crutch.

He stopped when he noticed you, his face a mix of confusion. “What are you doing? I thought I told you guys not to go outside after lights out?”

You felt every emotion rush back to you at the sound of his voice, the sight of his face, the fucking absurdity of the whole situation. Your hands clenched into fists, “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I thought you sucked before but I underestimated how much of a jackass you could be!”

Price stood there like a deer caught in headlights, so baffled he couldn't even speak. “Excuse me?”

You marched straight up to him, “You heard me. Apparently making my life a living hell wasn't enough for you was it? You sadistic fuck. Do you get off on torturing me? Is that it?” You spat. The heat in your face rising with each word.

He didn't say anything, his navy eyes looking at you like you belonged in an insane asylum. After a minute of silence, he breathed, “[Name]. Realistically I should be laying into you right now and giving you every single punishment there is for the rest of your stay here for cursing me out after lights out with no provocation on my end. But, I'm going to give you one chance to explain why you're acting like a screaming banshee before I send your ass straight to the bins.”

His words only ticked you off further, well two could play dumb. “You know exactly why I'm angry! No provocation is such bullshit. You- You just think I'm so stupid don't you?!” You were stumbling, your mouth felt heavy. It was like your mind was moving faster than your body could keep up with.

“Are you drunk?” He asked incredulously. You shook your head, “No! I mean yes I had a few drinks but I'm not drunk. Stop deflecting-” You rambled on.

His eyes turned to narrow slits, “I don't even know what I'm deflecting- you can't just start making a scene and expect me to know why you're angry. I'm not a mind reader.” He groaned.

“The name! The rumor- whatever you call it. You spread a rumor about me to the entire base that I'm sleeping with you! People are calling me your girl! The guys told me, everyone thinks I'm some slut because of you!” Everything in your body was burning, it felt good to finally yell at him but the words hit you hard.

You were labeled as the slut. No matter what you did there was always going to be a man overshadowing you just because of a preemptive notion that you were weaker. Something you'd spent your life fighting was now your reality.

Price’s eyes went wide, he almost resembled a wooden board. For a moment his eyes softened, like he was taking pity on you. “That's what this is about.” He breathed, “Look, I’m just as upset about that rumor and the name as you are. I don't know who started it but I can give you my word it wasn't me. You can ask any one of the guys and they will tell you the same thing.”

You started to speak but he raised a hand to stop you, “-I know it's not fair. But the damage has already been done, the thing about rumors is that they pass. And nobody thinks you're a slut. You're just as capable as anyone else on this team.” He said calmly.

It was silent for a moment. You didn't really know what to do or what to believe. All you had to go on was his word, which wouldn't normally hold much weight but something about him seemed so genuine. “I- how do I know you're not lying to my face? You hate me. And I’m just supposed to believe a random person made this rumor up when you've been trying to kick me off the team from the start.”

Price halted for a moment, his face reflecting a series of conflicting emotions. “I don't hate you, and I am not trying to kick you off.”

“Well, it sure as hell doesn't seem that way, even Soap said you act differently around me. I don't understand why you fucking hate me so much when almost all I ever do is try and suck up to you!” You shouted, your voice slightly slurring with how fast the words escaped your lips.

A vein bulged in Price’s temple, his jaw working with his growing temperament. “I don't know how often we have to go through this same conversation before you get it through your thick head. I don't hate you, I'm hard on you. There's a difference.”

“Well, that's not what it looks like to me. Especially not to the mystery person who just conjured a rumor that we’re sleeping together out of thin air.” You seethed, until now you'd been standing a few feet away from him. But somehow, amid the argument, you found yourself now uncomfortably close.

Price scowled down at you, “What do you want me to say to you?! That I'm sorry I also got caught up in some dumb rumor. That I'm sorry you got your feelings hurt because I was a little harsh.”

Your mind was telling you to communicate your feelings like a normal person. The alcohol and your heart told you your fist connecting with his face was the better option. And right now, your heart (plus the alcohol) was winning.

“I want you to fucking show me you don't hate me! You can say all you want that I'm just being dramatic but there's obviously a reason why I think you hate me.” You fired back.

The two of you stood there for a moment, his eyes drilling into yours. A scowl on Price’s lips and his eyebrows pinched together, there was something about the heat of the moment that made you more on edge. You were hyperaware of everything around you, most importantly you were hyperaware of your proximity to him. The night air was cold but you were on fire.

“You want me to show you? Fine.” He grit out, and before you had time to react he was on you.

His hand was on your neck, thick and warm. Pulling you close so that his lips captured yours in what you could only describe as ‘a hungry kiss.’ The coarse hair of his beard tickled your skin and before you even knew what you were doing, you started kissing him back.

Fuck. He tasted like smoke and whiskey, a woody smell clung to him like sap. Greedily your hands pulled at him, your fingers bunching the cotton of his shirt like he'd disappear. You'd kissed men before but never in your life had anyone kissed you like this. The kiss was hot, desperate, almost angry. His tongue slid along yours, you felt the drag of his teeth nip at your bottom lip and his throaty groan when you only pulled him closer.

You couldn't remember why he was kissing you, or why you started kissing him back. You didn't know why you were so angry, nor did you pay mind to the chance that anyone could walk outside and see the two of you.

You heard his crutch absentmindedly fall to the ground, clattering against the hard dirt. Price's other hand snaked to the back of your head, curling his thick digits into the locks of your hair. His nose brushed against yours, he felt so warm. Asshole or not this man knew how to kiss.

“[Name]!”

Gaz’s voice broke you out of the trance you seemed to have been under. Immediately you and Price tore apart, your heart jackhammered in your ribcage. You looked at Price, he looked at you.

His blue eyes were blown wide, his lips parted and shiny with the reminisce of your spit. A reddish tinge colored his ears and cheeks. He looked horrified.

You didn't fair much better. You probably looked like a gaping fish. You'd just kissed Price. Price had kissed you. You two had been kissing. Holy shit.

Footsteps snapped your attention away from him, Gaz ran to meet you. His breath heavy like he’d been running around for a good amount of time. “[Name] Price didn’t start the rumor- you left before I could tell you. I-” He stopped, his eyes darting between both you and Price. You probably looked as guilty as you felt. “I…uhm I guess you two worked it out?”

There was an awkward silence before anyone spoke, Price cleared his throat, quickly wiping his lips. “She’s aware… You two go back to the tent, it’s late. We leave early tomorrow so get a good sleep.”

You were still in shock, could you even move your limbs? Another silence hovered over the three of you like a looming dust cloud. Gaz awkwardly shuffled to you, patting your shoulder as if to say ‘party's over, let’s go.’ He nodded at Price, “Right, see you in the morning Cap.”

Before you knew it, your legs were moving as Gaz led you back to the tent. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, “You alright?” He said hesitantly. You didn't know what to say to him, you didn't even know what you were feeling. And you doubted saying, ‘Honestly I don't know because two seconds ago Price's tongue was down my throat and I can't tell if I'm turned on or horrified,’ was appropriate.

So, you settled for a simple: “I’m fine.” Gaz gave you a skeptical look, but he chose not to comment on it. Once you got back to the tent Soap and Ghost had already started to get into their respective cots. Soap gave you a funny look over his shoulder, “What happened to you? You look shell-shocked.” He laughed.

You didn't even have the energy to respond, giving him a disgruntled grimace in return. You fell into your cot, burying your face into the thick sleeping bag. Your cheeks burned, and the taste of Price still lingered on your lips.

Apart of you wished that you were blackout drunk, then maybe it would be easier knowing whatever happened would disappear by the morning. But his groans, his hands in your hair, his lips, they were carved into your brain. And they weren't leaving.

You had to grapple with the reality that Price had kissed you. And you had kissed him back.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Hey, wait! Don't go!

Well… hello there. It's me again! To those of you who aren't familiar, you can call me Baebae. And to those who are welcome back! I've written fanfiction a bit before (check out my other stuff on my home page) but nothing like this. So that makes this special, and I'm happy you can join me while I embark on this new journey.

There is no spice in this chapter but it is coming in the next part. There are only two parts to this so you won’t have to wait that long. Trust me I am trying my best to crank out the next one so I’ll try my best to be quick!!

I would be so, so, so, soooo grateful if you would like, follow, or repost. Don't feel any pressure but I love hearing any feedback you can provide as I am relatively new to this and it spurs me on to know people enjoy what I put out. If you so choose you can message me or comment if you'd like me to @ you in the next part so you're notified. <3

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and I'll see you in the next part. Toodles! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Part II of Captains Girl!

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

[yeonzzzn]

say my name: sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 6.9k

synopsis: you never liked sunghoon. matter of fact, you hate him. he annoys you and makes your blood boil. what makes it worse is he’s your neighbor, attends the same college as you, and even worked his way into your friend group. you refuse to say his name, but he has plans to make you scream it.

genre: neighbors!au, enemies to lovers, smut.

warnings: swearing, reader has an attitude problem, mutual masturbation, using readers spit to jerk off, fingering, cum eating, unprotective sex, doggie, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!

You gripped the bedsheets, knuckles turning white and mouth going slack as moans escaped your lips. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your head, pushing your long hair from your face before connecting it to the side of your face, pressing you further into the sheets, another moan leaving your mouth. 

He chuckled, “Yeah? You like that huh?” his hand at your hip squeezed and shoved you further onto him, using more force into his other hand to press your face harder into the sheets, “Such a dirty fucking girl.” 

You exhaled out, “I fucking hate you,” but had the biggest smirk on your lips as he used every force possible to fuck into you. 

Sunghoon smirked at the look on your face, “No you don’t,” he cooed, his hand on your face moving to the top of your head, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking, pulling you up and connecting your back to his chest, “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, letting go of your hair and snaking his hand down to your heat, middle finger circling your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, “Say. My. Name.” 

Your head spun as you thought back on how you ended up in this situation with his cock so deep inside you. 

You hated him the moment he moved in next door. You hoped whoever your neighbor would be that they would be better than the last one. The last neighbor you shared a wall with was loud, always yelling at something, banging on the walls, watching TV way too loud, and for whatever reason would leave their apartment door open to “get fresh air,” when in reality you thought it was to shove whatever terrible smell they had inside out. 

You were so thankful when you saw your new neighbor was your age. He was handsome, looked smart, was quiet, seemed clean and his best friends were hot. 

But you learned soon enough that he was a prick and your hate for him started. 

Your first interaction with him was asking if he could turn his music down because it was three in the morning and you had work that following morning. 

He opened the door wide, wearing nothing but his tight blue boxers that clearly showed his boner. His hair was a mess, and the giggles of two females could be heard from his bedroom. You tried to drown out their giggles and keep your eyes on his, terribly failing and staring down at his chest, abs…his cock. 

He smirked, leaning closer to you, “Like what you see? Want to join us?” Anger filled you instantly. Who the fuck did this prick this he was? He barely moved in a few days ago, has TWO other females in his apartment, and is hitting on you when he doesn’t know you?

You snarled, “Just turn the damn music down!” 

He, in fact, did not turn the music down but turned it up. 

The rest of that week was hell. Music, alcohol, other females, and his friends flew in and out of that apartment, making you sleep less and less every day. 

When classes started back up that following week, to your dismay, you walked into your microbiology class to see him sitting in the corner of the classroom. His hands shoved into his black hoodie, eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, leaning forward into his chair, resting his elbows on the table, and giving you a wink. 

If you could drop this class and take it another semester you would. But you were so close to being done with your prerequisites for your major that there was no point in dropping it. Plus you wouldn’t let your prick of a neighbor ruin this for you. 

Except he made class hell too. Tossing notes your way, giving you winks, and biting his lips. Always having a comeback to your answer when the professor would ask questions.

You discovered through the class that his name was Park Sunghoon, and the moment you knew his name was the moment you vowed to never say it. To not let that tainted name leave your lips. 

Sunghoon only did more to piss you off as time went on. Walking around outside the apartment practically naked, running his hands over his body, and winking at you. Always teasing you at college by how you “wanted” him. 

What made things worse, he somehow befriended your best friend. Yunjin invited you to a party one night and you gladly accepted it, wanting one night away from the apartment building and away from Sunghoon. 

You walked into the party, expecting to be embraced by your best friend, but instead saw the door being opened by Jake, one of Sunghoon’s hot best friends. 

“Oh shit! Hey YN!” his Aussie accent blurted out, “You’re friends with Yunjin too?” 

Too?

You peered into her house, seeing Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, red solo cups in their hands as they laughed together with not only your friends but also his. 

Yunjin’s eyes widen in excitement at seeing Jake lead you into her house, “YNNIE!!!” 

She released herself from Sunghoon and embraced you quickly, “I have some people I want you to meet!” 

She introduced you to Sunghoon and his friends, the awkward smile on Sunghoon’s face showed that he had zero clue you were best friends with Yunjin. 

“No shit!” Jay exclaimed, “You’re best friends with YN?! Sunghoon is her neighbor!” 

Yunjin, mostly in her drunken state, was more excited than she should be, “OH EM GEEE!!” she clapped her hands, “We can be one big happy friend group!”

You found out from Yunjin that she and Sunghoon have a few classes together and even already hung out a few times around campus with his friends when you were busy. 

You wanted to break up the friendship but felt way too guilty and didn’t want to be that person to break away a friendship. 

So you sucked it up. 

For months you tried to act normal, but Sunghoon’s flirting and his teasing only got worse. Making you hate him even more. Oh, but it fueled him to continue. 

Even after almost a year, you refused to call him by name, referring to him as stupid, idiot, idiot penguin(after finding out he was a figure skater), and simply just a prick. 

You twirl your pencil between your fingers, listening to Heeseung and Yunjin talk about the League of Legends match they had last night. Jake cutting into the conversation. 

“Yeah yeah nerds, I have something to say.” 

Sunghoon glanced up at his best friend from his homework, “What could be more important than their league match?” 

“What the idiot penguin said,” you chimed in, eyes going back down to your homework. 

“Are we still going with the idiot penguin?” Sunghoon scoffed, “It’s been a year, YN,” he rolled his eyes, “I have a name.”

You shrugged, standing by your statement of never saying his name. 

Your friend group soon figured out whatever enemies thing you two had going on but never addressed it, hoping you two would figure it out on your own. 

“Anyways,” Jay said, “What is important?” 

Jake smiled, “Let’s go to the next city over and party.” 

Chaewon’s eyes lit up, “You know, why not?” 

Yunjin even seemed interested. 

Your little small town had bars and one shitty club. Neither was worth walking into. Going the next city over for a night out didn’t seem like a bad idea until…

“We can get a hotel!” Yunjin said, “That way we don’t have to rush back home and can actually get drunk.” 

You were on board until the hotel was brought up, “No. Absolutely not.” 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you, knowing perfectly well why you didn’t want to, “Get over it, you’re going. All of us are.” 

You protested the whole week against going, yet you found yourself in the very backseat of Chaewon’s car sitting right next to Sunghoon. 

You rolled your head back onto the headrest, crossing your arms with a groan, “Can someone PLEASE switch seats with me?” 

“NO!” everyone else shouted. Sunghoon just sitting in silence, his arms also crossed, eyes locked onto whatever could be so interesting outside the car. 

You’ve only been in the car for an hour and a half, yet it was killing you already. 

“You really need to get over whatever hate you have for him,” Yunjin said earlier in the day as she shoved her duffle bag into the trunk, “I don’t understand it, everyone else is fine with each other besides you two.” 

You crossed your arms, “He’s just a prick. Has been since I’ve met him.” 

Yunjin rolled her eyes, “You aren’t even sure if he even did have a threesome with those girls.” 

She wasn’t…wrong. But by the way, his dick was hard in those…tight boxers, there’s no way he didn’t fuck them both. 

“Idiot penguin didn’t really do a good job of defending himself if he wasn’t, plus he asked ME to join them.” 

Yunjin just sighed, “He hates when you call him that, he actually wants to be friends with you, ya know. We are all friends, you live right next door to each other, just try to get along tonight, okay?” 

Yet here you were in the backseat with him wanting nothing more than to jump out of the window and let every car hit you. 

The sun started to set, and everyone one by one (except Chaewon and Jay who were driving and the passenger) fell asleep. 

A small bump in the road was enough to wake you from your sleep. You yawned and then the pain of the way your body was twisted into the seat kicked in. 

With a soft groan, you shifted yourself up, eyes wandering down your legs seeing them draped over Sunghoon’s lap. 

His eyes were wide and lips tucked between his eyes as he stared down at your legs. You shifted in your seat, ready to yell at him and pull your legs back but when your foot grazed over his crotch, you were in more shock than he was when realizing you were awake, head snapping to you so fast. 

“YN…” he whispers, eyes darting to the front of the car then back to you, “It’s not—“

“Then what is it you prick?!” you whisper back. He had a fucking hard-on?! What the hell was he thinking and doing with your legs?!

Sunghoon quickly placed his hand over his hard cock, trying to conceal it as if it would help make the situation better. 

It didn’t. 

“And now you’re touching yourself?!” you whispered in a snap, “You’re such a pervert you prick!” 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “Will you shut the fuck up and listen for a second, ya?” you thinned your lips in a line, waiting. “You at some point in your sleep shoved your legs into my lap. It woke me up and I was so close to shoving you off me, but you looked peaceful and Jay made me promise to not start shit with you.” Ahhh so they all were in on trying to get you two to play nice, “So I left you alone, but you started shifting around and…” 

And he got a fucking boner just from your legs. 

“You have a leg fetish or something?” you raise a brow at him. 

Only for your legs. 

Sunghoon shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy.” 

But maybe he was the crazy one. Ever since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of you. To fuck all that hate you have for him out. To turn that scrunched face full of anger every time you look at him into a relaxed sexual face with you moaning out his name. 

He’s never once heard you call him by name. Even when he’s texted you about stuff about hanging out with everyone or for class or homework or literally anything about the apartment you always call him some wack ass name. 

Sunghoon has it as his goal to get you to say his name. Whether that’s by him fucking you into the next year, or gaslighting you into saying it somehow. He preferred option one. 

He found you so ridiculously sexy. Your attitude always got him going and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it’s because he wanted to fuck that attitude out, maybe it’s because over the year of knowing you, he’s grown a little crush. Loving the way your eyes light up when a strawberry alcoholic beverage of any kind is placed in front of you. Loving how you smile when you see animals and how you dance around with Yunjin in her living room. 

He found it so sexy how you give back every ounce of bullshit he threw at you. So sexy when you wear your tight sweatpants that shape your ass do fine. Finding the small mole above your naval so cute and attractive, mostly when you wear tight crop tops or shorter shirts that lift when you stretch showing off your tummy. 

Sunghoon was so down bad for you in many ways that even he wasn’t able to understand it. 

He hated you to a degree, but only in a way to keep himself from feeling things he shouldn’t for you. 

“I’m crazy?” you burned holes into his eyes when he nodded, “Says the one who got a boner over my legs.” 

Sunghoon couldn’t hold it back anymore, slowly palming his cock, “Yeah? And what about it? Your legs are so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon loved your legs and wanted to rub his hands up and down them. Wanted to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Wanted them to straddle him. 

You could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were starting to look blown out and filled with so much lust. He’s never looked at you like that before. 

It made your cheeks flush and made you speechless. Your eyes wandered away from his and down to the hand palming himself, watching as his hips slowly shifted up with each stroke of his palm. 

It sent heat down your body and pooled between your legs. You hated him, so why was watching him stroke himself so hot to you? Making you want to continue watching him. 

“Oh, you so want me,” he whispered, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly sliding his hand down his sweatpants and boxers, letting out a soft grunt and he flung his head back into the headrest, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 

You watched how the moonlight and street lamps shined on him as he fucked up into his fist slowly. 

“Prick,” you whispered back at him, closing your thighs together in hopes of concealing the rising heat between them. But Sunghoon notices everything. 

“You’re so wet, aren’t you? All just from watching me? So dirty.” He was making your blood boil. But the slick between your legs was worse than your anger at the moment, and you knew that he could see it too. 

“Shut up,” you closed your legs tighter, trying to fight yourself from looking at him, from looking at how his hand moves under his sweatpants. 

“Touch yourself.” 

Your eyes widened, “Excuse you?!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, making you realize you said that a bit too loud, with a groan he repeated himself, “I said touch yourself.” 

You snarl at him, opening your mouth to fight back but ultimately stopping when he pulls his hand from his pants and lifts his hips to slide them down to his thighs. 

He looked back at you as he wrapped his hand back around himself, a smirk raising, “Close your mouth, you might start drooling, YN.” 

You didn’t realize how wide you let your jaw drop at his size…he was huge. Maybe that day you told him to turn his music down, his cock showing wasn’t because of how tight his boxers were…

You closed your mouth, sliding your back into the seat and slouching down, running your thighs even more together. 

Sunghoon was loving the way you were looking at him. Loved how you kept darting your eyes back and forth between his face and cock. Oh, the way he’ll tease you about this until his last breath. 

He leaned towards you a bit, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his precum, “Touch yourself, YN.” 

Your heart was racing, your body on fire. You wanted to. So bad. But didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. 

Sunghoon let a small moan leave his lips, and you were done for. 

You slid your hand down your shorts, your fingers working their way to spread your slick around your clit. 

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.” 

You stared down at his cock, watching how he bucked his hips in movement with his hand, seeing how his precum leaked from the tip. 

But then he released himself, reaching over and stopping his hand below your mouth, “Spit.” 

You didn’t hesitate, dripping your saliva into a small pool in his hand. Sunghoon could have came just by the eye contact you gave him as you gave him your spit. Like holy fucking shit it was hot. 

Sunghoon spreads your saliva over his cock, hitting his head back into the headrest as his hand glides so easily up and down his shaft, “Oh, fuck.” 

You bit your lips and pressed two fingers inside you, letting small and quiet whimpers escape just loud enough for him to hear. 

Sunghoon wanted you to expose yourself as he has to you, reaching his free hand to the hem of your shorts and tugging, “Pull’em down.” 

So you did. Releasing your fingers from your cunt only long enough to push your shorts and panties down to your ankles and pumping your fingers back into you. 

Sunghoon hissed at see you finger fuck yourself. Loving how your hips rolled in time with your fingers. God, he wished it was his fingers inside you. 

He looks up to you, seeing that your eyes were still locked onto his cock. He slouched more down into the seat, giving himself more room to pump himself and give you a better view. 

You bit your lips tighter and pushed your fingers in faster, knowing damn well you were covering the seat in your juices. But you didn’t care at that moment. 

Sunghoon’s hand was on your thigh, spreading your leg more apart, giving you that access to finger fuck yourself faster. 

It was driving him up a wall at how you looked right now. You’ve only ever shown him faces of anger, but right now you’re showing him the faces you make when horny and touching yourself. And oh god he was loving it. 

He wanted you to look at him while touching yourself. He wanted to see the face you’d make when you cum, wanting you to watch him cum. 

“Hey, YN,” he was barely able to whisper, “Eyes on me.” 

You locked eyes with him, chills being sent down your spine at his fucked out expression. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Is this how he looks when he’s having sex? So out of it and lustful? 

You wondered how he’d fuck you while you straddled him. Would his hips buck up like they are doing into his fist? Would he go faster? Harder? The thoughts were endless as you stared back into his eyes. 

His mouth slightly opened, his lips swollen from how hard he was biting them to keep his moans compressed. He let out small grunts, eyes quickly looking down at how covered your hand was with your wetness, wanting to unbuckle himself and grab you by your thighs until your back was touching the bottom of the seat as he spreads your legs and fucked himself into you. 

The thoughts were enough to send him over the edge, “YN,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m fixing to cum.” 

Your body tensed, fingers moving faster, “Cum then,” you whispered back, your thumb now doing circles on your clit as you pumped yourself. 

“M’cumming,” he said with a deep inhale, tucking his lips back between his teeth as he released, his cum leaking out so perfectly and down his hand. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, working your fingers faster. 

Sunghoon slid his boxers up first, wiping his cum on the inside of his boxers due to not having anywhere else to do so, then slid his sweatpants back over his hips. 

He locked his eyes back to yours, seeing how desperate you looked wanting to cum too. He slides his eyes down to your cunt. If it were his hands there…you would have came twice by now. 

You wanted to release terribly, but the angle of your hand and the small of the backseat made it difficult for you to chase out that climax. You tensed as you tried to reach for it, calling for it. 

Your body froze when Sunghoon’s hand grabs yours, pulling your fingers out of your cunt, “Let me help.” 

Usually, you’d protest and yell at him. Call him a prick. Shove him away. But right now you wanted to cum and that priority was above all else. 

He replaced your fingers with his. His long fingers slid into you so gracefully, “Fuck you’re so wet,” he moans softly, angling his hand in the perfect spot as he hit your g-spot. Sunghoon couldn’t believe he was feeling you in his hand, feeling your slick pool in his palm, feeling you clench around his fingers. He was already getting hard again. 

“Feels good baby?” he whispers in your ear and all you do in response is nod. 

Something about his fingers was driving you crazy. The way they hit your g-spot with such ease, the way his thumb brushed against your clit with each movement…

“Say my name,” he says into your ear, pumping his fingers in you faster. 

“No,” you say back, your hand flying to his wrist and squeezing it tightly. 

“Say my name, YN,” he said again, curling his fingers so deep inside you, your climax nearing so fast you didn’t have time to think, “Say my name baby.” 

You opened your mouth, not to say his name, but to moan as you came around his fingers and hand. Sunghoon acted fast enough to press his lips to yours, suppressing your moan from being too loud and letting the others find out what was happening in the back seat. 

You closed your eyes at your release, Sunghoon’s fingers still moving inside you slowly, helping you chase out at high. 

You kissed him back, without so much as a second thought, you kissed him back. 

Maybe you did it as a way to thank him for helping you release, maybe you did it because you wanted to. The lines were blurred and you didn’t know why you let him kiss you. 

His fingers slid out from your cunt as he leaned more into you, his tongue spreading your lips apart and making its way into your mouth twirling the muscle around yours. 

Once you came down from your high, your eyes opened wide, and shoved Sunghoon back to his side of the car. A chuckle left his lips, “Back to hating me?” 

“I never stopped hating you!” 

“Right,” he clicked his tongue, as he looked down at his hand covered in your cum, “That’s not what your body said five minutes ago.” 

You wanted to call him his usual nickname but stopped short when he lifted his hand to his lips, tongue extending out and licking your cum from his palm then shoved his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. 

Fuck she tastes so good. 

Your face reddens, “Prick,” 

His eyes roamed down to your cunt, “Pull your shorts up.” 

“I hate you.” 

—

Once you all arrived at the hotel and checked into your rooms, you quickly locked the door, sliding your back down the wood and covering your face in your hands. 

The guilt of what happened was finally hitting you. You masturbated with him. Watch him cum down his hand and even let him make you cum. You let him kiss you, and shove his tongue down your throat. 

You felt dirty and in need of a shower to wash away the guilt and feeling of his hand between your legs. 

Everyone was supposed to meet down in the lobby twenty minutes after getting to their rooms to change and do whatever else before hitting up the club. It was plenty of time to shower and wash Sunghoon off you. 

You scrubbed your body clean and even double-brushed your teeth before sliding into the dress Yunjin and Chaewon forced you to bring, “It makes you look so hot!” Yunjin said, “Fits you in all the right places!” 

Well, she was right. The red dress was made of silk and slid down your body perfectly as well as fit you perfectly. It was tight around your frame to show off your curves, shaping your ass and lifting your tits. You slid your feet into matching red sneakers, not caring enough to walk around in heels all night. 

You arrived in the lobby, seeing that Jake and Sunghoon were the first ones there.

Just looking at Sunghoon not only brought back your moment in the car together but brought out a different feeling. 

You could tell he also showered by how wet his hair still was. His hair was parted perfectly in its normal part, pieces sliding down into his face. His black button-up shirt was tight against his frame, showing his muscled arms and shoulders perfectly. Matching his shirt, he wore black pants that fit him perfectly in a loose way. 

Jake mirrored his outfit but in white, going for a whole yin and yang thing. Which made sense for the two of them being best friends and all. 

“Wow,” Jake was the first to speak, “You look—“

“Sexy,” Sunghoon finished for him, his gaze eyeing you up and down. 

“Yes! Sexy!” 

Sunghoon tried to not let his irritation with his best friend show as he watched him practically drool over you. If only Jake knew he was knuckles deep in your pussy not even an hour ago. 

Hell, Sunghoon was trying to not drool over you right now. Red was definitely your color and it was doing something to him down in his pants. Especially with the way the tops of your breasts pooled over the top of that dress. 

You noticed how he was eye fucking you, earning you to scrunch your nose at him and look away, putting your attention fully on Jake. 

Shit, there’s that attitude I want to fuck right out of her. 

It didn’t take much longer for the others to arrive and off to the club you all went. 

The club was packed. The music you didn’t quite care for and Sunghoon wouldn’t let you out of his sight, following your every move like a hawk hunting his prey. 

Everyone else had found their way to the dance floor, shaking some ass and grinding up on random strangers having the time of their lives. That could be you if you didn’t have an idiot penguin on your heels. 

You walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over, “Yes ma’am?” he said, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage.

“She’ll take a strawberry coconut rum with extra ice please, make it two,” Sunghoon answered for you. 

You looked over at him, seeing how closely he stood next to you. Sunghoon wanted to touch you, have his hands on you to show every man in this club to back the fuck off. 

“You got it,” the bartender said, giving a small look of irritation at Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon just smirked, eyes flickering to his name tag, “Thank you, Choi Yeonjun.” 

Yeonjun just thinned his lips out, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then he walked off to make the drinks. 

Your glare at him didn’t falter, “Can I help you?” Sunghoon asked. 

“Can I help YOU? I can order my drinks myself.” 

“He was literally eye fucking you, I had to do something.” 

You raised a brow at him, “Huh? Is it eating you up so much that other men are looking at me?” 

Yes because no one else is allowed to have you. 

“Why would I care about that? It’s not them looking, it’s the fact they aren’t just looking. They are undressing you with their eyes and I can’t fucking stand it.” 

You’ve never seen Sunghoon so…protective before. He’s never batted an eye at you twice at the clubs and bars back home, letting any and every man hit on you as much as they wanted. What changed between then and now? 

Yeonjun returned with your drinks, giving you a flirty smile and glare at Sunghoon before walking away again. 

Sunghoon snarled at him. 

“Anyway!” You snapped, “How did you know what to even order me?” 

Sunghoon chuckled, taking a sip of the alcohol, “I’ve known you for over a year, YN. I’ve seen what you drink when we’ve gone out and at parties. I know you.” 

Somehow that hit hard to your heart, that he even paid that much attention to you outside of the constant teasing. 

“You hate me, why go through this trouble?” you scoffed, chugging down your drink quickly, wanting to already feel the buzz. 

“I hate you, but not in the same way you hate me,” he finally admitted, “It’s not any trouble at all to protect you, I’ve always done it, always shooed off anyone who would hit on you for too long. You just never noticed it.” 

Your heart skipped a beat, your memory shoving back in time at every time someone hit on you, how they’d flirt and touch your waist, only for them to leave to grab a drink and never return. Now you know why, Sunghoon got to them. 

“What do you mean that you don’t hate me the same way I hate you?” 

Sunghoon looked away from you, chugging down the last bit of his drink before tossing it back onto the bar counter and taking a deep breath in. 

“You hate me because of how I flirt with you, how I tease you about anything and everything. You hate me for how loud I blast my music, hate me for being loud when Heeseung, Jay, and Jake are over, hate me for the number of females I’ve brought in and out of my apartment, hate me because you think I had a threesome with those girls all that time ago when I actually didn’t, by the way, I sent them home before anything else could happen. And you hate me for competing against you in class, hate me for joining your friend group, the list goes on. But me? I hate you because of how bad I want you.” 

He looked back at you, his face softened from his hardened look from earlier at Yeonjun. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding everything back. 

Sunghoon wanted to yell at you for how stupid you were for not seeing how he felt about you. That his little teasing and acts of flirting were because he likes you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck your brains out along with that nasty attitude of yours, that ain’t no lie, but the moment he first laid his eyes on you his heart wanted to jump out his chest. And after seeing the way you eyed him up that one day you went to yell at him about his music, it tipped him over the edge to always wanting to be that thorn in your side pissing you off. Because it was better than making you feel nothing at all for him. 

Sunghoon sighs, “I hate you because I want you so bad. I hate you because you can’t even dare say my name. I hate you for the things you make me feel. I fucking hate you for letting me kiss you in the car because now all I can think about is how I’d get my lips back on yours.”

You stared blankly at him, before nervously shaking your head and letting out a chuckle, “Right. This is just your way of teasing me again.” 

“If I wanted to tease you right now, I’d bring up how badly you were gasping at my cock in the car.” 

“Shut up!” You snapped, your face reaching the same shade as your dress. 

He smirked at you, “All that aside, I want you so fucking bad that I can’t handle it anymore, and by how fucking wet you were for me…” he took a step closer to you, face nearly inches apart from yours, “I know you want me so bad too.”

You swallowed, body shaking from how close he was to you right now. Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip, “Say my name,” 

You lifted your face a bit, barely brushing your lips to his, “No,” 

Sunghoon’s hands were now at your waist, fingers digging into that sexy dress of yours that he wanted to rip from your body, “God I want to fuck that attitude out of you.”

Your heart was doing flips and you finally understood why: because of the feelings that ran deep within you that you sheltered up and locked away. Finally understanding that’s why he made your blood boil at nearly existing. You were forcing the feelings you felt for him away. 

You landed your hands on his biceps, rubbing your thumb over the muscle, “Say my name,” he said again. 

You smiled, shaking your head. 

Sunghoon just smirked back at you, taking a few steps back and guiding you with him, “I am going to get you to say my name.” 

You, for the first time, flirted back, “How are you going to do that?” 

He didn’t respond, just kept pulling you toward the entrance of the club and until you were back at the hotel and being shoved into his room. 

His mouth found yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body as your fingers trailed down his shirt, undoing every button until the black fabric was lying somewhere on the floor. 

Sunghoon shoved his tongue down your throat at the same time he found the zipper to your dress, pulling it down in a shift motion to get you out of it quickly. 

His cock was twitching in his pants, so eager to be set free and find its new home inside your cunt. 

The moment your dress hit the floor, you were shoved onto your back on the bed, his hands on your hips and pulling you to the edge, looping his fingers into your panties nearly ripping them off you. 

“So fucking needy,” you teased him, “Want me that bad?” 

Sunghoon hissed, “You have no fucking idea.” 

He towered over you, pressing his lips back to yours as his fingers slipped into your soaked pussy. You moaned against his mouth, closing your thighs around his hand. 

“Say my name,” he said once again, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

You bit your lip, ushering out another no. 

Sunghoon was going insane for this little game of yours, it turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Maybe he was actually crazy. 

“Say my name,” he said as he pushed his fingers into you harder, curling his fingers at your g-spot, “Scream my name and I might consider letting you cum.”

You slid your hand down to your clit, working your fingers against it, “That's fine, I’ll just make myself cum.” 

Sunghoon groaned, swatting your hand from your clit and removing his fingers. Both hands grabbing at your waist and flipping you over, lifting your ass up and making your back arch, “Shit I can’t wait to fuck that attitude of yours away.” 

“Funny you think that’s something that can be done,” 

He took a handful of your hair and lifted you up, letting out a “Watch me,” in a whisper against your ear, then shoved you back down into the sheets. 

You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Prick…” 

“What was that?” 

“Pri—“

Before you could make out the word, he shoved his length into you, bottoming out then pushing himself back out and then in, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. 

You didn’t care though, the pleasure was far too great as he fucked into you like you were a bitch in heat, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll start thinking twice before giving me attitude again.” 

And that’s how you ended up here, back pressed so tightly against his chest as his cock and fingers worked their magic on your body. 

You reached your hands up and behind his, fingers tangling into his hair as your brain became foggy. 

He fucked into you with the full intention of getting you to scream his name. Of getting you to come so unglued on his cock you’ll be begging him to fuck you some more. 

Even with these goals in mind, Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had your body pressed up against his, cock so balls deep into your cunt, and hearing your moans so crystal clear in his ear. He loved it. Loved how much of a mess he was making of you. 

He worked his middle finger faster against your clit, “Say my name,” he begged, “Say my fucking name.” 

You bit down on your lip, trying with any willpower left that you had to keep from screaming his name. From giving him exactly what he wanted. 

Sunghoon kept trying and wasn’t going to stop until his name left your lips. He’ll fuck you until the sun starts raising if he had to, all to hear your pretty voice speak his name. 

Your climax was fast approaching, you wanted to cum so bad, and you knew what you had to do to reach it, finally letting go. 

“Sunghoon,” you softly moaned. 

“Louder,” he growled. 

“Sunghoon,” you moaned again. 

“Louder!” 

“SUNGHOON,” you screamed at the same time you came on his dick, his fingers and thrusts did not slow long down. 

“Fuccckkkk yessss,” he groaned, removing his fingers from your clit and using all his weight to push you back down into the sheets, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pounding into you faster and harder than before. 

You chanted his name, losing your breath at the ecstasy that filled you. 

“That’s it, baby, scream my name like it’s the only name you’ll ever know.” 

You continued to moan his name, making it music to his ears and filling his heart with such happiness he didn’t think was possible. 

“Fuck, you love hoonie’s cock, ya? Love the way I give it to you?”

“Hoonie,” you cried out, “Fucking love your cock so much.” 

Sunghoon gripped his hands tighter around yours, “Cum for me again baby, you can do it.” 

You released on him again, your eyes seeing stars. 

He pushed your legs further apart with his knees and fucked harder into you, “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted, “I love that stupid ass attitude of yours, I love fucking that attitude out, I love the way you say my name and love the way you look at me while I fuck you. I love you.” 

You lifted your head, barely being able to look at him, but you did. You were looking up at him with such endearment. Like he was the one who put the stars in the sky just like he’s the one making you see them right now. 

“Sunghoon,” he came undone at how softly you said his name, his seed unloading into your gummy walls, slowing his thrust as he chased down his high, “I love you too.” 

—

You both sat hand in hand in the backseat, Sunghoon pinching your cheeks in a teasing manner as he rubbed his nose against yours, his smile so wide. 

“Hey,” Jay called from the front seat, “What the fuck happened with you two?” 

Heeseung groaned and slung his head onto the headrest, “You don’t even want to know! They were fucking each other's brains out all night.” 

Chaewon yawned at the driver's seat, “Be lucky you didn’t have a room next to his.” 

“No for real,” Heeseung added, “I got so tired hearing how many times he asked YN to cum for him. Wanted to shove pencils down my ears.” 

Sunghoon slapped his friend's chest, “Bring earphones next time buddy.” 

Jake and Yunjin looked at each other confused at what happened between their best friends, but going along anyway. Jake always knew Sunghoon had feelings for you and saw how he bottled it up. Jake guessed last night was Sunghoon’s tipping point. And Yunjin always knew you’d break at some point and accept Sunghoon, she just didn’t expect it to be as a lover. 

“Anyway,” Jay said rubbing his temples, “Let’s hit the road, I have work tomorrow and need to sleep off more of this hangover.” 

Chaewon then started the drive back home. 

Sunghoon rested his face back against yours, bringing your lips to his, “Say my name again.” 

“Sunghoon,” you whispered between kisses, “Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon.”

[me-writes-prompts]

:-"Soft things people in love do that makes me want to fall in love" prompts-:

(Tag me if you guys write these!!!! yeeeeee)

By @me-writes-prompts

Letting them sit in their seat during a train/bus transaction

Making food for each other as surprise

Picnic dates^^

"We could just stay like this, cuddling all day, if you want."

Random kisses on lips/hands/neck >\\\<

Giving them a head massage while they listen to the other one talk about their day

Late-night star gazing when they can't sleep

^^ "The stars are bright tonight, aren't they?" "Not as bright as you, love." and they pull them into a kiss because they start to laugh at the cheesiness.

Leaning their heads on each other's

"I know you're struggling right now, and it's okay, okay? We'll get through this."

"I left you a note, did you read it?" "Yeah, I left you one back to tell you I read it!" <3333

"I can't believe you remember the day we first had our kiss!" "It's an important day that needs to be remembered forever :)"

"Is it too early to say I love you? Because I do. I love you so much." "Aww, I love you too. So much."

Making the other one DIY bracelets/rings/etc with their names.

^^"This is lovely! But you spelled your name wrong, darling." "Oh...heh, guess I got carried away huh?"

Board game nights where their competitive sides come out

"I hope you know that I'll never leave your side, even though you ate half of my pancakes earlier." "Hmm, I won't either, even though you take my clothes and never return them."

[questions-about-blorbos]

people who ship a ship that's unhealthy, toxic and fucked up and do not shy away from the fact their ship is unhealthy, toxic and fucked up by making them act all "lovey dovey" toward each other, or watering down the severity of the things that canonically make their ship a fucked up ship, in fanfics — and so they embrace the fact that their ship is fucked up, but that's the thing that makes their ship so hot, sexy, complex and fascinating — I am declaring my undying love and loyalty to you

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni Enemies to lovers with some massage therapist Bucky. Breeding kinnk, aftercare, Bucky is a secret softie, all that.

Imagine Rival Biker Bucky x f reader. A smutty, slutty little concept while I add the finishing touches to another fic, just getting this out of my system first. I just love the idea of a sexy, bad boy Bucky getting his hands on the one girl who won't give him a second glance because she's too good for him and they're from opposite worlds. Since childhood. Now he's a biker. Covered in black ink. He works in an auto shop. Owns the bar that brings in chaos. He's smoke, whiskey and leather.

She, however, is soft, pretty, smart and does not have the time to entertain someone like him. She has her degree. Working on a second. She has a career. She does not associate with the likes of him, not as the police chiefs daughter. She'll be damned if she has to even breathe the same air, especially when his gang is the cause for half the problems in the town that her father has been trying to get rid of.

Now, imagine that hours of working on her notes and papers leave her with unbearable knots and kninks in her back. She doesn't want to take a break but the pain only gets worse as the week goes by. It doesn't take long for her to shoot her regular massage therapist a message to book the very first available appointment.

-

You unclasped your bra, folding and setting it off to the side while waiting for Wanda in the warmly lit room. You could have sworn she was a witch with the way she made pain disappear; she’d also become a good friend after your many visits.

The knock at the door interrupted you as you slid your shorts off, leaving you in your panties, not rushing to jump onto the table considering it was just Wanda anyway.

“Come in!” You smiled, making your way to the massage bed as the door clicked open- “Oh my God!!” You nearly shrieked seeing Bucky walk in, a shit eating from spreading across his face as you scrambled to grab the tiny towel to cover yourself though it was a futile attempt. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

"You have an appointment, don't you?" He quirked an eyebrow as if it was clear as day why he was there.

"Yeah, with Wanda, why are you here, did you get lost on the way to jail?" Your face scrunched in a mix of confusion and disgust ignoring the roll of his eyes while you snatched your shirt to better cover up.

"Well Wanda couldn't make it in but she sent me" He said with a shrug, sighing when he saw your less than impressed face, "Don't flatter yourself, I'm just training under her as part of my physiotherapy internship"

"I'm sorry, you're trying to tell me you of all people are learning how to give massages? Please"

"Physiotherapy" Bucky corrected, "You're not the only one who has a degree, princess" Bucky watched as you groaned realizing you hadn't put your bra on, opting to stuff it in your bag instead of putting it back on in front of him.

"You are NOT laying a finger on me-ow!" You hissed, feeling the knot in your back tug at the rest of your muscles.

"You're not gonna be able to do a whole lot with that much pain" Bucky smirked, only half joking. He wasn't wrong. The pain was worse than before and you needed this an you really didn't have the time to reschedule.

"Fine" You mumbled, turning away from him so you could take your shirt off again, glaring at him when you noticed he hadn't turned away. "Could you at least give me some privacy instead of lurking in the corner like a pervert"

"Whatever you want, princess" He bit his lip as he faced the wall, hearing your feet pad across the tile to lay down on the massage table.

"Alright" You huffed after covering your lower body with the towel, now laying face down, immediately second guessing yourself as he walked over.

"Let me know if anything's uncomfortable or if you want me to stop" His voice was no longer snarky; in fact he sounded professional. "Where do you feel the most tension?"

"Um-shoulders and-lower back" You mumbled out the last bit, he was going to massage you there anyway so there so no pointed hiding it. You tensed at the feeling of his oiled fingers starting to work at your muscles, he had no right to be that good. At all.

“Shit” you hissed trying to keep your voice down, ignoring the clench of your stomach feeling his rough fingers press down on the areas that were tight. Little did you know Bucky was struggling far more than you were.

It went against every bit of professionalism he had. Every moan you tried to silence went right to his cock, his hands making their way lower before trailing up again. Fuck, you sounded so pretty...

"Better stop making those sounds"

"Or what" You challenged back before you could even stop yourself.

"Princess..."

"Your attitude is what needs fixing" Bucky growled, professionalism be damned, "fuck this"

-

You have no idea how you ended up here. It didn't matter though, not when there wasn't a single cohesive thought in your brain as you wailed letting Bucky absolutely rail you. Your back didn't feel an ounce of pain as he took you on all fours, pulling your hips to slam back against him, gripping your ass with enough strength to leave you sore.

"Feel better now huh baby, not trying to stay quiet anymore, are ya" He let out a low chuckle which melted into a groan feeling you tighten on his dick, "Such a good little princess like you letting me put my dick in you, dirty girl"

You hate to admit it but the clench of your cunt betrays how much you love this. It was so wrong. You had no business fucking someone like him and yet where you were letting his precum paint all over the inside of your walls.

"What would your daddy say princess, if he knew where you were right now, what you were doin'? Thinking you're studying when you're actually all pretty and naked, letting me rub that gorgeous body up and down, bet you'd let me put my cum in you too, huh? Bet your dad would love that, his perfect little girl all knocked up with some bikers baby"

You could have said no, stayed silence, just about anything but nope. You screamed feeling his fingers reach around the massage your clit, your orgasm wasting no time hurling towards you.

"Ja-Ja-JAMESSS"

"MMMPHH I love the sound of that baby, could get used to hearing you sayin' my name, say it again princess, say my name with my cock in you, c'mon, that's it"

"Fuck-James-I-James" You were a mess and loving every bit of it, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, all the pent up stress you were feeling finally releasing. You felt your throat tighten, a sob escaping your lips as you let go, your arousal making a creamy mess on the dark curly hair on the base of his cock.

"God, you're milkin me, you want my cum that bad huh baby, want a little biker baby in that tummy of yours, I'll give it to you, give you so much I might even put twins in there-FUCKK"

-

"Shhhh" Bucky cooed, wrapping you up in a fluffy towel while cuddling up your limp body, wiping away any remnants of tears while you stayed floating in a subby, post sex haze. "I got you, you did so good princess" You only manage to let out a weak whimper, giving into his warm, thick arms that rock you.

"You alright angel?"

"Mph" you mumble against his chest and he reaches over for a glass of water that's nearby, bringing it up for you to take a sip. You're surprised at how sweet he's being, drinking up before snuggling into him again. Damn him for being so warm and comfy.

"Y'know, there might be a little Bucky in there" He whispers with a playful smirk in his voice, fingers tickling your lower belly, chuckling when you narrow your eyes at him.

"You wish" You sass back, ignoring the butterflies you feel.

"I do" He admits, biting his lip, his previous cocky demeanor replaced with a shy one, though he tries to mask it. Poorly. His cheeks are pinker than the time you threw paint on him for pulling your pigtails. When you were both 4. "I'd want Bucky jr. to have your brains though"

Imagine that incident sets off a very interesting chain of events. A confession of feelings. You both couldn't be happier, meanwhile your father is grumbling about how he knew this fuckin' day would come, God damn it.

"I never liked that boy" He struggles to keep a scowl on his face watching you giggle like you were 4 again, running to the door as soon as you hear the rumble of his bike.

"Shut up, you love him" Your mom chides, watching Bucky swoop you up for a loving kiss, heading you a bouquet of yellow flowers as he always does.

-

"I still don't like 'em" Your dad says while you roll your eyes, your arm linked with his as he walks you down the aisle.

"Is that why all the files you had to build a case against him all suddenly went missing?" You tease and your dad shugs.

"Wasn't me"

-

just an idea.

[mi55delulu]

movie goers

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

synopsis: starting off on the wrong foot with your new neighbor was not on the top of your bucket list, yet you’ve made an enemy of jeon jungkook in less than 24 hours. unlucky for you, he’s not backing down either.

genre: enemies to friends to lovers (e2f2l)

wc: ~16.4k

cw: not so cute meet, slice of life, slight angst, fluff, mature language, mean jk and mean oc — they get better though, cheating (not main characters), fwb (not main characters), mutual pining, oc is lowkey a hopeless romantic, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, smut, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, love love love. if i got any rules/regulations wrong, i didnt. leave me alone, it’s fanfic 😇✨also written in lowercase bc that’s just how my phone setting is and i’m too lazy to go back to capitalize … ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: yuh … inspired by real life events. anyways, this is the first time i’ve posted a fic on this page. i’ve been an avid reader (still am) but i’ve been wanting to put something out too. so here’s my gift to close out 2024. also, i miss jk. I MISS BANGTAN. ;-; enjoy and lmk your thoughts!

—

if you had to describe your ideal neighbor in three words, it’d be: mindful, quiet, and kind. cause that’s what your neighbor, mrs. lee, was to you in the last three years you’ve lived in this apartment complex. she kept to herself, walked her small crusty (but cute) senior white dog, and brought you leftover cookies when she baked too much for her grandkids. you always had a feeling she made just the right amount with you in mind, but of course she’d never tell you.

so when she broke the news that she was going to move into her son’s home because they’ve been worried about her living alone, you were happy for her — happy that she’s going to get taken care of, but sad that you’ll be losing a great neighbor.

you tell her whoever moves in after her probably won’t be as good of a baker. she simply laughs and tells you to be nice.

three months pass and you hear footsteps outside your door one afternoon. when you try spying through your peephole to get a glimpse of the commotion, you see boxes stacked on the side of apt# 305.

finally, someone was moving in.

some of the boxes were spilling onto your welcome mat, but that didn’t really bother you. you were more curious about your new neighbor … er, perhaps neighbors. so any clue on whether it was going to be an individual or a family moving in would give you an idea of who you’ll be living next to.

unfortunately for you, all the boxes were neatly sealed off.

“dang it.” you mutter to yourself while squinting at the labels on the boxes. clothes, kitchen, shoes … workout? well, okay no indication of toys so you can safely assume there aren’t any kids … yet.

you look at your clock, it’s about time you head out to get your mail anyways. maybe you’ll bump into your new neighbor(s).

except, it wasn’t as easy to spot who exactly was going to be moving in with all the different movers. you sigh and sift through your mail as you walk up the stairs to your apartment. most of the boxes that were outside had already been moved inside the apartment by the time you returned from the mailroom.

as curious as you were of who your new neighbor could be, you had better things to do … like binge watch your kdramas before your shift starts. maybe if you’re feeling extra nice … you’ll say hi later. no one wants to start off on a bad foot with their neighbor. you fumble around your pockets for your keys and eventually hear your locks click open when you’ve successfully unlocked your door.

“hey, neighbor.”

you turn. now, in all your 28 glorious years of living, you can easily count the times you’ve been starstruck on one hand. seeing the northern lights by accident on your way home in 2024, meeting your favorite youtuber at a late night diner when you were 15 years old, and being noticed by one of the highest ranked players in maplestory’s world chat.

the person in front of you? a sight to behold. tall, killer smile, numerous piercings, and a forearm adorned in tattoos. yeah. you don’t think starstruck would fit for this occurrence, but what you do know is that they’ve gotten you tongue tied.

“welcome!” you blurt out and give a tight-lipped smile before barreling through your entryway. you don’t give yourself another second to study his expression once the door shuts behind you. were you lame to run away from your new neighbor? sure. will you regret this? well, the cringe is already seeping in. you’re probably branded as the weird girl now … whatever.

what’s done is done.

you don’t know if 305 is mindful, quiet, or kind.

but fuck, he’s hot.

—

305 was not quiet.

you know it’s a housewarming party with a couple of his friends. he didn’t have to tell you … you heard them loud and clear through the walls several times as they clinked their shot glasses for the 11th time that evening.

you’re texting your frustrations to dohwan, your boyfriend (?) er … someone you’ve been talking to (and fucking) these last 2 years. he hasn’t quite put a label on the relationship just yet and claimed that he is only seeing you. labels didn’t really matter to you but as time grew, you’ve come to like him a lot and wished for something more. he’s career-driven, great in bed, and knows how to whip up a good breakfast the morning after he stays for the night. he was supposed to come over tonight, but told you he got caught up with work. it’s times like these where you feel a level of uncertainty with dohwan. you spiral and don’t feel as secure as you want to be.

you shouldn’t feel hurt or disappointed … but you do, because hell, alright … maybe you didn’t just like him.

you love him.

you’re not embarrassed that you told him 9 months into seeing each other. has he said it back? no, but that’s okay! everyone has a different timeline when it comes to feelings. you could only hope he meets yours soon enough. why else would he stay for this long?

back to the situation at hand.

you’re not an irritable person, but the least 305 could’ve done was given you a heads up that he was going to have a celebration. you would’ve asked to stay over at dohwan’s in that case.

another round of laughter erupts through your walls and you grit your teeth in annoyance.

“fuckin’ hell,” you throw the covers off your body and march out of your apartment. you find yourself glaring at 305’s door — a juxtaposition from how you usually looked when mrs. lee used to reside here.

god, you missed her.

you knock on the door a few times, taking note how the chattering from the inside decreases and some footsteps grow close to the door.

again, you almost want to want to run back to your apartment when you’re face to face with 305’s handsome confused face.

realizing it’s you, 305 smiles, “oh, hey—“

“it’s nearly 12 a.m. do you mind?” you cut him off.

his smile drops and he leans one shoulder on his doorway.

“sorry,” he says, “we’ll wrap up soon.”

you’d usually drop something this trivial by now, but you’re in a foul mood. unfortunately for 305, this is will be his official first impression of you.

“how much longer is ‘soon?’ it’s been like this for 4 hours,” you really don’t mean for it to come out that way, but the damage is done.

little did you know, 305 wasn’t going to backdown either. he may be new to this complex, but he’s not privy to obnoxious neighbors. the only difference is that he thought you were going to be quiet and shy, much like the first meeting.

“don’t know.” he shrugs.

“i really don’t want to involve property management.” you cross your arms. it’s a half threat — you’ve never called because you never needed to … but you’ll flip through your 50 page rental agreement if you have to.

he mirrors your stance and looks out to your apartment’s door.

“well, sorry to burst your bubble, 307.” he says and you see red, “but management is aware of my get together. it’s not my fault they didn’t inform the other residents.”

“asshole.” you mutter under your breath.

he smiles again, a little less friendly and more condescending this time, “we’ll finish soon, 307. good night.” he shuts his door on you before you can formulate a sentence and you’re left outside in the dark.

—

“yo, jungkook … were we being too loud?” hoseok asks while popping a handful of m&m’s into his mouth.

“yeah, cause your laugh can be heard from all throughout korea,” jimin mocks, earning him a shove from hoseok.

“nah, don’t worry about it. just my neighbor saying hi.” jungkook plops down on the sofa with the rest of his friends.

“oh? should’ve invited them in. we have enough pizza to feed a village.” taehyung nudges his side.

jungkook laughs and shakes his head, “just scale down on the volume and we’ll be golden.”

jungkook loves good company, having lived with his friends for most of his college years, he was a bit reluctant to move out. it’s a little bittersweet, but all his friends are happy for him and his new journey in adulthood. he won’t have to deal with messy roommates and random guests … vice versa. as fun as it was to live in a house full of your best friends, at the end of the day, men will be men. gross, loud, and obnoxious.

not jungkook though, so he thinks.

“ha! called it,” jimin snorts, “you were being too loud, hyung.” this earns jimin a punch to the arm and hoseok’s booming laugh when jimin dramatically falls off the chair.

jungkook knew it was useless to request this of his friends, so he took it upon himself to give the property manager a heads up. lucky for him, the lady seemed more than happy to accommodate. she even left her business card with him after he signed the lease … something about calling her if there’s ever an issue with the apartment — any time of the day.

weird.

what’s weirder was his neighbor. from running away during the first meeting to demanding he end his housewarming on the spot. okay, to be fair, you didn’t, but you might as well have. it didn’t help that jungkook was hotheaded and gets a little irrational when something involved his friends.

so what if he thought you were pretty in your black pajama set? you called his friends loud, when in honesty, they could’ve been much worse. seriously. he knows jimin’s taunting held some truth. hoseok has been responsible for some noise complaints in the past. so this was considered manageable. plus, it’s not like he’ll be inviting them over every weekend.

but if it meant pissing you off, he might consider it.

alright, he wasn’t that cruel and he definitely doesn’t want to make living next to you unbearable. he’ll apologize first thing in the morning tomorrow, but for now, he just wants to enjoy his time with his best friends.

—

jungkook was going to murder you.

not literally, but he could if it wasn’t for the major hangover holding him back. he blinks twice, looks at the clock on his nightstand, reads 7:01am, and lets out a big sigh after another round of drilling vibrates against his wall.

fuckin’ hell.

it feels comical now that he’s in front of your apartment, face still swollen from sleep, but so visibly upset at being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“are you serious?” he asks, voice still laced with heavy sleep.

you, on the other hand, look put together and almost too happy this early in the day. jungkook can only rule you out as a psychopath — a pretty psychopath. your hair all in place, lashes kissing your cheeks when you smile at him, and not a single wrinkle on your clothing in sight.

“what’s up,” you peer outside your door just as he did last night, “305?”

he wants to let out a groan, but that’d give you too much power.

“drilling at 7 in the morning? that’s gotta be a violation.” his voice still laced with sleep, though, he’s sure to sound assertive.

“nope! here,” you smile and pull out your phone, the level of brightness makes jungkook squint, “county regulations allow work as early as 6:30am.”

“yeah, if there’s justification. there’s no reason for you to be drilling this early.” jungkook argues back.

you pout, evidently not sad at that revelation, “but my mental health. i was kept up all night by my neighbor and his friends … i need some wall decor to cheer me up. surely you could sympathize, right?”

you don’t allow him to formulate another thought as you’re shutting the door, “i’ll be done soon, have a good day!”

jungkook almost wants to laugh at how irritated he is, but all he can do now is try to get some shut eye before his shift starts. that is, if he can even go back to sleep.

should’ve asked his friends for some earplugs as a housewarming gift.

—

the drilling eventually came to a stop. only because you could not be bothered to wake up earlier than you had to and you think you made your point pretty clear to your neighbor — don’t fuck with me.

honestly, you’re not sure what came over you. you never liked causing issues for people and you’re also well liked by your work peers and friends, so this was out of character of you. it also didn’t help that your friends spurred you on and praised you for one upping him. as the rage dissipated from your system, you’ve come to the conclusion of why you acted out.

your new neighbor was a conventionally attractive man. he probably knows this too judging from the way he spoke to you — like you’d back down just because he said so. he probably was able to schmooze the lease manager into giving him a better rent deal and get pardoned for all the noise he made during his housewarming party. sucks for him; you’re not a fan of pretty privilege.

you had to set him straight, so drilling into a random piece of wood every morning right near his bedroom wall was the perfect revenge. you expected some backlash from him; surprisingly, he didn’t say a word to you after his first confrontation. so, you stopped the antics after the third day.

weeks later, you learned his name is jeon jungkook. not through a formal introduction … only because his mail got mixed in with yours and you tossed it onto his welcome mat. he eventually came to realize your name through the same way too.

though, he’ll always be 305 to you and you’ll always be 307 to him.

that’s fine.

you’ll scowl every time you see him and he’ll stick a middle finger up to you as well.

the feeling was mutual.

“so, are you still battling it out with your new neighbor?” dohwan asks one evening. his head was actually between your legs at the moment. you like having random conversations during sex, but talking about your annoying neighbor wasn’t on the top of your list.

“mm, yeah,” you moan lowly when he flicks his tongue on your clit. “well n-no, not anymore.” you correct yourself, “oh fuck, keep going.”

“good, i’m tired of hearing about him,” he chuckles against you and continues his ministrations between your folds. if you were caught off guard by his comment, you weren’t anymore. the pleasure coursing through your body is enough to make your head spin.

he moves away from your body once you’ve come by his mouth. without warning, he slips inside you and you hiss from the overstimulation, still sensitive from your previous orgasm.

“gonna fuck you so well.”he’s thrusting relentlessly, “it’s what you need, huh princess?”

you nod, too overcome by the power of his thrusts hitting all the right spots. dohwan is a little more vocal tonight — it makes you feel special but you’re also a little self conscious about your nextdoor neighbor hearing things. you’ve always kept it down even when mrs. lee lived next door, jungkook would be no exception.

people fuck, it doesn’t mean you can’t be courteous. you sure as hell don’t want to hear your neighbor fucking given that you’ve seen him bring back several different girls to the apartment these couple of weeks.

one thing you’ll commend jungkook for is not being a loud fucker in the bed.

“baby,” you whine as he pauses a little to listen to what you have to say, “we should keep it down.”

he tilts his head, reaches in between your bodies and circles slowly on your clit with his thumb while he resumes rocking into you. you keen and almost let out a moan.

“why? let the asshole hear.” he grunts when he picks up the pace again. dohwan kisses down your neck and leaves a red hickey on your collarbone. you let out a pretty sigh and wrap your legs around his waist.

“y-you,” he moans particularly louder and it throws you off slightly, “saw the way he looked at me today, right?”

you didn’t, but you definitely saw the way dohwan glared at jungkook and tightened his hold on your waist before entering your apartment. meanwhile jungkook had just come back from his evening run — at least that’s what you assumed since he was wiping away his sweaty hair from his flushed face coming up the stairs.

“baby, are you really going to talk to me about another man while we’re fucking?” you laugh and cup his face in your hands. he huffs in frustration but his eyes soften, it’s opposite to the brutal pace he’s set on your pussy.

“sorry,” he continues fucking into you and the room is filled with wet noises and his panting once again. even though he apologized, he does nothing to lower his volume.

knock-knock. the sound definitely did not come from the frontdoor, it was far too close to hear.

another series of knocks come and you realize it’s your bedroom wall. dohwan pays no attention to those sounds and is far into chasing his own high, but you move your hands over his mouth to muffle his grunts.

jeon jungkook is knocking on your wall.

he knows you’re having sex and you’ve become that obnoxious neighbor. if that wasn’t enough of an instant mood killer, you hear him blasting one of akon’s featured hits “i just had sex” to mock you and dohwan.

yeah, sexy time is over. you push dohwan off you and head into the bathroom to nurse your embarrassment.

shortly that night, dohwan leaves and it’s the first time you’ve gotten into an argument with him where you think he’s in the wrong.

—

people find it daunting to go to the movies alone. you’d agree until you were forced to go alone after no one wanted to go watch twilight with you in high school. it was awkward at first, but once the light dimmed and the movie started, no one cared about their surroundings.

that’s why you liked going alone. no one will pay attention to how alone you were. everyone in there will be focused on the big screen in front — you included. there was always something liberating about doing things alone too. ‘like yeah, stick it … i don’t need anyone.’ kind of energy.

the only thing you wished was to have someone to discourse with after the movie ended. it’s not a dealbreaker though. you could have easily asked dohwan to come with you, but you’ve been ignoring him since last week after the loud sex fiasco.

regardless, you’re watching moana 2 today. you’re sure it’s going to be a full house given that it’s the opening week. you can only pray that you won’t be surrounded by snotty (literally) kids. nonetheless, you’re excited and the theater was getting filled up as more movie goers come in during the preview. your row was nearly full, saved for the single empty seats on your left and right side.

score, no seat partners or snotty kids. you’ve won this time around.

you’re texting your friends and telling them your luck—

“ahem.”

you look up and you see two people standing in front of you. you’re sure it’s for the seats on your left and right side cause you double checked your ticket before sitting down and everyone else in your row has been seated for quite some time.

“can you move?” one person asks. weirdly enough, the voice is familiar.

even though the lights are low in the theater, you can see that it’s a man and a woman. and when you squint a little more at their figure, that’s when something catches your eyes. a tiger lily tattoo, the same one that your neighbor has.

no fucking way.

“hello?? can you move?” he asks again a little more aggressively. there’s no way he can’t recognize it’s you being that the movie screen is bright enough to shine a light on you. doesn’t matter. you weren’t going to move before and you definitely aren’t going to move now. hell, you’ve been asked plenty of times to move by both families and couples in the past — the difference was that they asked nicely. some were generous enough to offer you snacks when you did move for them.

jungkook? nah. no thank you. you’ll stay right where you are.

“nope.” you hold out your ticket to show your seat number and refocus back on the previews playing.

the girl behind him grabs his arm and gently asks him what seat numbers he got.

“k11 and 13.” he mumbles.

yeah, cause you had bought k12.

“oh, um, it’s okay! we wouldn’t even be talking during the movies anyways,” she reassures with a kind smile. “let’s sit so that we’re not blocking anyone?”

jungkook gives her a tight lipped smile and plops down on k11 while the girl takes k13.

“you’re fucking annoying for that.” he says only loud enough for you to hear. he’s angrily eating his popcorn and it makes you want to laugh mockingly. he’s dressed in all black with a silver chain dangling loosely around his neck. his hair is neatly styled and he smells nice. perfect for a first date … minus you being the factor to ruin it.

“i’m not the one that booked shit last minute. do better.” you shrug.

the previews are still playing and you look over at the girl. she’s so pretty and probably too sweet for jungkook’s good based on how she handled the seating situation.

you feel a little guilty, but that feeling leaves you the moment jungkook hands over the popcorn to the girl, spilling a couple on your lap. you glare, he smirks, and the girl unknowingly takes the bucket from him.

well, two can play that game.

“your nails are so cute, where’d you get them done?” you ask.

she beams and shows you her set, “a little shop called banger nails down myeong-dong! they’re great.”

“oh, your nails are so pretty though. where do you get it done?”

truth be told, you haven’t had your nails filled in over 3 weeks … you know they look rough, but you assume she’s just trying to maintain a conversation being that her actual date was a seat away.

you tell her your shop and she tells you she’ll definitely try out that location when she has the chance. she offers you some popcorn and you unashamedly take some, making sure jungkook sees.

he clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes, but makes no move to turn to your direction.

“oh, how rude of me. what’s your name?” you reach out to shake her hands.

“nayeon,” she answers and takes your hand in hers, “you?”

you tell her your name and she nods with a sweet smile. yeah, she’s definitely too good for jungkook.

the movie starts and you’re whispering commentaries and giggling with nayeon. you both held hands during the intense scenes and teared up at the ending. it felt really nice to connect with someone like this right off the bat. she was kind and funny throughout the entirety of the movie too.

you can’t say the same for jungkook. he had his arms crossed with a deep frown stamped on his face for two whole hours.

when the movie credit rolls, jungkook stands up and holds out his hand to help nayeon up. huh, chivalry isn’t dead you suppose. nayeon stands up and waves at you.

“it was so nice meeting you! we should definitely hang out. here, let’s follow each other on instagram!” she fumbles through her purse for her phone and you notice how jungkook closes his eyes in frustration behind her.

you and nayeon exchange contacts and as you’re reclining your seat upright, you hear jungkook ask her, “would you wanna get some froyo? my treat for messing up on the tickets.”

“aw, it all worked out though! i met a new friend,” she gestures over to you. jungkook doesn’t really acknowledge nor claim he has already met you.

why would he?

“i’m glad,” he replies, “still though, i feel bad that we didn’t really hang out. still up for that sweet treat?”

nayeon nods and looks back at you, “would you like to join us?”

unbeknownst to nayeon, jungkook looks at you in desperation this time and shakes his head pleadingly. you think you’ve tortured him enough this evening and you don’t want to subject yourself to hanging out with jungkook. seeing the couple link hands in front of you, you’re sorta missing dohwan a little now … so you’ll reach out to him and see what he’s doing.

“no, it’s okay. you both should enjoy that sweet treat together. i’ll text you on instagram!” you wave and jungkook lets out a breath of relief.

“let’s go?” now, what shocks you is his soft smile towards nayeon. it’s almost a 180 to the attitude you’ve experienced with him. then again, maybe it takes a special kind of person to bring that side out of you. nayeon can definitely do that.

she waves at you again and this time jungkook also waves at you (begrudgingly) too. it’s not a goodbye, but a ‘see you later … unfortunately.’ type of wave.

—

you come back from dohwan’s place a little after midnight.

nothing special happened, just hung out like normally. he didn’t bring up the argument and you didn’t feel like talking about jungkook either. this was a regular occurrence in your relationship with him. fights were always difficult, but the mend was easy … cause you guys tend to just sweep the issue under the rug.

clean slate.

“jesus christ!” you jump at the sight of a tall dark figure when you reach the top of your floor. your hand flies to your chest to hold down your hammering heart.

“relax, 307. just me.” jungkook says.

“scared the shit out of me.” you murmur to yourself. you proceed to open your door just as jungkook gets his keys out too.

“fitting for a piece of shit like yourself.”

“excuse me?” you raise your brows in question.

“you heard me,” he steps back out from his door, “loud for no reason, fuck like you’re the only one in the complex, and don’t even have the decency to move a seat over. it’s no wonder the previous resident moved away.”

you really want to argue back, but he read you for filth. you really have been an asshole, still, the comment about mrs. lee hurt. you’re not what jungkook makes you to be, but you’ve given him every reason to perceive you in this manner.

“look, i’ll apologize—“

“nah, save it. i’m tired of being nice too. have the night you deserve.” with that, he goes into his apartment and you’re left contemplating how you let things get this bad and awkward with your new neighbor.

there’s no point in trying to talk to your neighbor now. it’s late. you’ll process everything first and try talking to him tomorrow.

—

the talk never happened.

because for the next 27 days, you’ve been woken up by a blender at 5 a.m. you let that slide for the first 5 days thinking it was jungkook’s way of venting out his frustrations, but by the end of the week, you were back on hating your neighbor.

today marks day 28. you’ve had a long day at work and dohwan has been dodgy with you this week. you call him during lunch to ask him why he’s been so distant and he immediately goes off on you saying that he feels suffocated and that he likes his space. it hurts. because you thought that when you really like someone, all you want to do is fill your day with them.

it’s the evening after your shift and you barely make it up the top of the stairs before you sit down and cry into your hands. it’s so fucking embarrassing crying over a man, especially for one that you really like. majority of the time, he really does make you feel like you’re on top of the world, but then take you down to the pits of hell.

highest of highs, lowest of lows.

it fucking hurts, but you also don’t want to be more alone than how you are.

you hear footsteps come closer and you immediately wipe away your tears and look to the other side of the railing. the person coming up doesn’t stop and walks up past you.

you know them. you know it’s him. you can tell by his cologne and the black converse he fancies.

when you think he’s far enough and in his apartment, you let yourself cry some more.

little did you know, jungkook stands at the top of the stairs, contemplating on whether he should talk to you. he thinks you’re crying because of the blender. or maybe you’re crying because you have to go home to a shitty neighbor. feels bad and guilty. hates to see women cry or anyone cry for that matter …

you hear footsteps from behind and sniffle into your hands.

“uh, 307?”

“what?” your tone is biting but that’s understandable. you’ve been under a lot of stress.

he sighs, sits down right next to you on one of the steps. his legs are long so his knees fan out a little to brush yours. you scoot away and look at him with your bloodshot eyes.

ah, shit. he feels even worse.

“i know i’ve been a dick to you from the start.” he begins.

you scoff and look away.

“you didn’t make things easy either, okay?” he rolls his eyes, “but if you’re crying about the blender …”

“oh for fuck’s sake! no, this isn’t about the blender, 305.” you huff.

“ah.” he opens his mouth and closes it to think what to say next, “lemme guess … boy trouble?”

“shut the fuck up.”

he does so this time for a few minutes until you start talking.

“look, i’ve been meaning to say this but i’m sorry for being an asshole to you. you’re new here and i gave you a bad impression of me. i don’t want to continue making this a hostile living situation for the both of us.” you meant every word you said and whether jungkook accepts your apology, that’s for him to decide. at least you were the bigger person to apologize and take accountability.

“thanks. i’m sorry for being rude too. clean slate?” he reaches his hand out for you to shake. you look at his tattooed hand and a part of you feels relieved at the prospect of a resolution. you shake his hand in agreement. his hand was warm, a little calloused, but the hold was firm and promising.

“you’ll stop with the blender now?” you muse.

“aw man, i was getting used to the daily fresh green smoothies … but i think the blender is on its last leg. i’ll spare you for now and buy premade smoothies,” he grins and winks jokingly. his smile was friendly, similar to the one he gave to nayeon that one date. speaking of which, you’ll have to text her when you get home … she’ll definitely want to hear this update. you’ve been religiously in contact with her since the movie date and she’s been your person when it came to complaining about jungkook.

you and jungkook stare out at the sunset and breathe in the autumn air. it’s nice and just what you needed.

“hey, 307?” jungkook breaks the silence after a while and you hum in response, “for what it’s worth, he sounds like a dying gorilla when he fucks.”

it was the first time you laughed all day.

—

things have gone back to normal between you and dohwan surprisingly. he apologized to you the next day and said he acted out because work has been on him lately. you accepted his apology.

on top of that, you and jungkook are … getting along? he’s actually not that bad. he greets you every morning and makes small talk with you about the weather when you are both at the mailroom.

oh, and the blender at 5 a.m. have stopped completely. he does complain that he misses his green smoothie, to which you reply that he can still make it … just not when you’re still in deep sleep.

“no thanks, the prep is annoying.” he brushes it off.

so one morning after grocery shopping, you pick up a cup of green smoothie from your favorite shop and drop it off at his door before he’s back from his usual run.

‘drink up, 305. - your lovely, sweet, favorite neighbor 307 ♡’

to which, he dropped off a matcha pastry to you the next day after you mentioned how you’ve been craving it lately.

‘peace offering to the demon. ps. you’re my only neighbor LOL - 305’

needless to say, this started a ritual between you and him dropping off snacks and drinks to each other.

so yeah, things have been good.

tonight, dohwan is taking you out on a movie date to watch wicked. it’s not your first choice, but you love a classic so you’re open to see this modern-day remake. plus, he’s been extra sweet to you too.

you’re standing near the ticketing area waiting for dohwan to get snacks when you suddenly hear, “307?”

you turn your head and it’s jungkook with a girl you’ve never met before. he waves and asks what you’re watching.

you point at a nearby wicked movie poster and he nods.

“we’re seeing the same movie too. sorry, forgot to introduce you both — this is jinah,” he gestures at the girl next to him and she nods at you in acknowledgment, “and this is my neighbor.”

“ohhh the one that drilled for a week?” she marvels at you and you flush at her question.

“three days,” he corrects, “but felt like an eternity.” jungkook looks back at you like it’s an inside joke and you feel warm under his gaze.

“he’s exaggerating. eternity is waking up to a blender for almost a month.” you fire back casually and it earns a laugh from everyone.

“well, you’re here with someone this time right?” he teases since he notices your makeup is done extra nice tonight and you have on a shorter beige skirt that cuts right at the top of your thighs. you looked beautiful whether or not this was for an actual date.

anyways, it’s all said in pure jest and he knows you take no offense in it when you laugh. knows he can joke around with you now — you’ve both established a good rapport.

“mhm. you bought tickets right next to each other this time?” you retort and he snorts at your question.

jungkook stares off from a distance and his gaze changes. he takes hold of jinah’s hand in front of you.

“i’ll catch you later, 307. enjoy the movie, ‘kay?”

“oh, okay,” you stare at jungkook in confusion, “it was nice meeting you, jinah. hope you both enjoy the movie.”

they both turn and head to the the concessions first and you’re back waiting alone again, but not for long.

a hand touches your lower back and you know it belonged to dohwan.

“ready?” he hands over your drink and you both head to the screening auditorium.

there’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you push it away once you’ve found your seats.

—

jungkook feels sick.

he’s seated behind you and dohwan. that was fine — wasn’t the problem.

the issue was seeing him be overly affectionate to you once he took notice of jungkook outside the auditorium. he doesn’t want to assume, but that’s the energy he gets from dohwan. it’s too much. though perhaps that’s how he usually was to you — he should be doting to you as someone you’re romantically involved with.

jungkook has a bad feeling about him.

jungkook has been on multiple dates this year, nothing ever leading to more because there wasn’t a spark beyond physical attraction. he doesn’t want to waste anyone’s time or hurt someone in the process if he were to continue something he sees no future with. which brings him to wonder why you still entertain that man when he clearly comes and goes as he pleases.

the sex can’t be that good … based on what jungkook was forced to hear that one evening. plus, he made you cry. that man can’t be good.

well, what does he know about relationships? he’s the “serial dater” while you’ve been with the same person. obviously jungkook is doing something wrong. maybe jungkook was just projecting.

he lets out a sigh when dohwan slips his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

“you good?” jinah whispers.

“yeah, sorry. didn’t realize how long the movie was. ass is starting to go numb,” he smiles apologetically.

she nods and refocuses back to the big screen. jinah was nice, but a little too uptight for his liking … she would stare back blankly at him when he tells a joke and it makes him question his own humor. he’s sure he’s a funny guy — you always seemed to laugh at his remarks.

shit.

why was he thinking about his neighbor when he’s on a date with another person?

he shakes away those thoughts and zones in on the movie. just a couple more hours till he can go home and relax. a bitter part of him hopes he doesn’t have to see you and dohwan enter your place together tonight.

—

you and jungkook have this thing where you go on walks and get your mail at the same time on fridays. that’s the day you work from home and he’s off.

you never liked walks but jungkook called you out one day for walking extra stiff up the stairs. you can’t help it … sitting for long hours at a desk job wasn’t ideal for your body, but it got the bills paid. by the end of your shifts, you’re too burnt out to do anything. you’re not like him who goes on routine runs at the ass crack of dawn. not everyone was fortunate to have a … wait, you’re not sure what he really did for work.

“305.” you deadpan, trying to maintain your big steps to match his long strides.

“hm?” he takes notice of your walking form and slows down his pace so that you can catch up. his dimples are on full display when he looks at you and it nearly makes you forget what you were going to ask him.

“what do you do for work?”

“what’s it to you, 307?” his brows raise in question and he chuckles when you scowl.

“just wondering. you seem to have a good work-life balance.” you shrug. he has to be making some form of income to afford the cost of living in this part of the city, so if it’s not an office job like yours, you’re curious what his line of work could be in.

“currently a tattoo apprentice, but i do art commissions on the side.”

“oh?” it makes sense. he had this artistic aura to him … tattoo apprentice also made sense too with his sleeve of tattoos. you wonder how many of those he designed himself.

“that’s very cool,” you mean it. you wish you could draw but your art skills could only rival a preschooler at best.

“yeah?” he scratches his behind his head, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he gets a little shy or flustered. “parents were super against it up until they saw what i made on my first commission.”

“it’s always like that with parents, huh? if you’re not a doctor or lawyer, nothing is ever enough for them,” you shake your head. it’s a small revelation, but jungkook feels the weight of your words. he can relate.

“you like what you do?” he tries to change the topic.

“it’s okay, gets the bills paid but honestly i’m developing a shrimp back from sitting at the desk all day.” you confess.

“good thing we’re going on these walks, miss hunchback.” he quips and nudges your arm with his elbow.

you stick your tongue out at him and his smile widens. jungkook takes out his phone and shows you some of the tattoos he’s assisted with on some clients these past months. you zoom in and stare in awe — the line work and colors were beyond beautiful and clean.

“they’re amazing, jungkook.”

his nose crinkles when he smiles at your compliment and cheeks flush at the usage of his real name.

“whenever you’re free, you can come over to check out my commissions.” he offers.

“yeah? you promise this isn’t some secret invitation to get murdered?” you smile cheekily at him and he playfully rolls his eyes.

“no promises,” he says and grins when you dramatically stop in your tracks.

“come on, 307. your lunch break is almost over and i gotta get my mail.”

—

you and jungkook return from the mailroom with stacks of envelopes and coupon advertising from random companies.

he’s behind you looking through his stack. among his many bad habits, one is not having the patience to open his mail in the comforts of his own home. typically by the time you both get to your respective doors, he already has the majority of his envelopes torn open.

men.

you stick your key into your door and hear jungkook gasp.

“shit!” he lets out a string of curses and you glance over where he’s at in front of his door … absolutely decked out in glitter.

“what the hell is this?” he’s dusting himself off, but that only serves to worsen the damage.

all the lights in your head go off. fuck. you had forgotten about the glitter prank order you made during the time jungkook was being a little shit with his blender. you totally forgot to call the company to cancel it …

you feel bad, but you can’t help but let out a series of giggles.

“oh my … jungkook, i’m so sorry,” you say in between your fits of laughter.

he looks at you in confusion but it doesn’t take long for him to piece things together. he tips his head back and looks at you incredulously.

“you did this? 307 … this is too much. how the fuck am i gonna get rid of all this glitter?” he opens his arms out and it makes you laugh even more to see him in this state.

“‘m sorry, i …” you try to catch your breath, “forgot to cancel the request and you were being such a dickhead that time.”

“i fuckin’ look like edward cullen.” he groans, looking at you with a serious expression and that has you doubling over.

he eventually joins you in your laughter, hands clutching his stomach.

“h-here,” you say in between tears, “i’ll help you.”

you dust off some flecks of glitter on his shoulders and reach up to smear it over his cheeks. this has got to be the highlight of your week.

jungkook pulls away and laughs at your antics.

“you think this is funny, huh?” he opens his arms again and you nod while stifling away your giggles, but your demeanor changes when he smirks deviously.

his arms circle around you and presses your face into his hard chest. jungkook is cackling just as hard as you are. he’s rubbing his body on your frame and you’ve accepted your fate cause you’re no match for his strength. you’re both even now. all glittered up, laughing, and having so much fun with this “misfortune.”

you won’t admit you’re enjoying his embrace. you won’t admit you fancy his cologne and aftershave. you won’t admit how you feel so soft against the hard ridges of his torso.

you definitely won’t admit how starstruck you got when he finally lets up and stares at you cheekily, unknowing of his doings and how pretty the glitter flecks frame his cheekbones and nose bridge.

he really was perfection.

little did you know, jungkook was also completely enamored by the way your eyes sparkle despite the crazy amount of glitter now stuck on your face and body.

did time freeze? no one has said a word but you can hear and feel your hearts pounding against each other in this close proximity.

“what the fuck?” a voice pulls both you and jungkook out from that dream-like state.

you look and it’s dohwan. confusion and anger is etched and evident on his face. he’s holding a bag of takeout, for what you assume was going to be your lunch. he stalks over and grabs your wrist and yanks you away from jungkook.

“hey man, it’s not what it looks like.” jungkook says. jungkook’s expression is neutral with a hint of annoyance in his tone. dohwan pays no attention to him and looks at you instead.

“are you cheating on me?”

“the hell, dohwan?” you stare back in shock at his accusation.

realizing how awkward this situation was, you start pulling dohwan towards your apartment. you quickly turn to jungkook where he was still standing, he looks concerned for you, “sorry, jungkook. uh, i’ll catch you later.”

he nods and moves around you and dohwan to get to his apartment door.

when you and dohwan are finally in the privacy of your home, you turn and he’s setting down the takeout on your coffee table. you can tell he’s still upset because he makes no move to sit down — he leans against your wall with his arms crossed.

“well?”

“well, what? it really wasn’t what it looked like, dohwan.” you roll your eyes, making your way to your sink to wash off the glitter on your skin. glitter was a bitch to get rid of, but you’ll do just about anything to distract you of dohwan’s awful attitude. you have about 10 minutes till you have to get back to work and don’t have the time to be arguing.

“don’t fucking lie. you’re always raving about how nice he is to you now. and i’ve seen the way he looks at you. that’s not some ‘friendly neighbor’ shit,” dohwan raises his voice in frustration.

you toss the kitchen rag onto your counter and turn, “what’s so wrong about me talking about how someone is nice to me?! at least you know about the people in my life, but i don’t know jack-shit about yours. i don’t know what you’re insinuating, but you need to check yourself.”

“don’t try to spin this on me. whatever is going on with you and your neighbor, needs to stop.”

“literally nothing is happening between us??” you run your hand over your face, “i can pick and choose who stays in my life, dohwan. you can’t control that.” you try to level your breathing. you hated feeling like your partner laid claim on you as if you were some sort of property and had ownership.

don’t cry. don’t cry. don’t cry.

his eyes soften after realizing what he implied and he comes closer to you. he rubs your forearms and pulls you in for a hug. you let the tears fall now.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just … i was insecure.” he confesses.

you sniffle into his chest, “why?”

he chuckles, “my girl hanging around a good looking dude? who wouldn’t be insecure?”

his girl.

“wasn’t aware i was your girlfriend.” you pull away from his warmth and regret seeing the glitter you’ve transferred onto his clothing in the process.

“well … i mean, you’re technically not. who needs labels?” he brushes you off and sits on the couch now. you’re left standing there, another wave of uncertainty washes over you. 5 minutes till you need to start working … do you really want to open the can of worms right now?

fuck it.

“i don’t know. people who love each other?”

he snorts then rolls his eyes when he realizes you’re back in serious mode.

“here we go again. we’ve been through this plenty of times—“

“do you even like me?”

“yes, of course.” he answers quickly.

“do you love me?”

he’s silent.

“then what are we doing, dohwan?” the real question was … what were you doing? it’s hitting year three of this situationship and nothing more has progressed.

“hey, hey … i thought you enjoyed spending time with each other … we agreed that it was just me and you,” he comes close to you again, but you hold a hand out to keep some distance.

“i need to get back to work. can you give me some space?” you mumble, “thanks for the food.”

—

the fallout between you and dohwan was anything but amicable.

you both boiled it all down to two things: you want more. he wants things to remain the same.

you requested for space and a break in the meantime while you figure things out. during that time, you felt yourself distancing from jungkook too. he tried to greet you like normally after dohwan’s confrontation, yet every time you see him, you make a beeline into your apartment.

guess old habits die hard.

you took this time to focus on you. you spoke to a therapist, got in contact with some girlfriends, visited your family, and busied yourself with work. self improvement, if one could call it. your therapist recommended to decentralize men in your life for a while so that you can focus on yourself. which meant no dohwan.

… and no jungkook.

you’ve been keeping nayeon posted on your life and she calls you out for being inconsiderate to jungkook. funny, because she was on your side when he was being rude to you and immediately ghosted him after the movie date (you still haven’t told jungkook you’ve been in contact with nayeon because things have gotten a little crazy). you promised to her you’ll talk to him soon though. he was just unfortunately caught in the crossfire of your messy relationship.

honestly? you missed your neighbor — your friend. but you needed to get your head sorted out and you’d be terrible company either way.

jungkook didn’t deserve that.

the break between you and dohwan meant that you don’t talk to each other till you figured things out.

breaks meant for a reset.

he kept texting you and telling you how much he missed you.

you had to keep reminding him of the boundaries.

he eventually obliged.

thinking you were finally ready to talk weeks later, you went over to his place after work, only to find him in shock, hair disheveled, red scratch marks all over his chest and shoulders.

“oh, um, i—“ you panic, feel your heart drop to your stomach when the realization settles in after you hear another voice call out his name from behind.

dohwan took that break and fell into bed with another woman.

“w-wait, let me explain,” he follows you out his door and nearly topples over you when you turned abruptly to face him.

you feel betrayed — so much for ‘me and you.’ the anger bubbling in your chest has a way of migrating through your body. you tremble, tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and your teeth dig hard on your bottom lip … you can taste metallic.

“we’re on a break,” he says as if you weren’t aware of the terms you originally initiated.

“okay? so that means you go and fuck someone else?” your voice is shaky but you push on, “you cheated.”

“no! i mean, fuck, what did you expect me to do? we stopped talking and it was fucking lonely … i— you can’t put all the blame on me,” he stammers.

so, it was your fault?

“i didn’t make you sleep with someone else. a-all—,” you choke on a sob, “all i asked was for some space and time. you couldn’t even give me that.”

the thing is, dohwan hasn’t given you anything beyond what he was willing to get from you. he liked your company, thought you were a sweet and funny girl, and god were you good in bed. he didn’t feel ready to settle down in a relationship … felt that being with someone officially took the spark out, but he also wasn’t willing to let you go.

so he held out for as long as he could. as a result, you did too in hopes that he could find it in himself to change his feelings for you.

love is patient, love is kind.

you’ve been patient, you’ve been kind. if this is love, why does it break you down?

maybe this love wasn’t for you; but rather, he isn’t for you no matter how long you wait and the number of pennies you’ve thrown into the wishing well.

“goodbye, dohwan.”

—

jungkook hates overly loud sex.

it’s the reason why he takes the extra precaution to put socks on his bed frames to muffle any potential noises. if his partner was a huge moaner, he’d do what any sensible person would … stuff his fingers into their mouth. what? the girl usually doesn’t mind and it minimizes the noises. plus, it was hot.

win-win.

sex didn’t have to be over the top to show that you’re passionate. jungkook knows that very well.

it’s also why he originally lost a lot of respect for you when he overheard you and dohwan having sex that one time. well, mainly dohwan.

fuckin’ gorilla.

jungkook has been worried for you ever since that awkward glitter situation. he wanted to apologize and even talk to dohwan if it’d make things less stressful on your end.

you’ve ghosted him for weeks. no more walks, small talk, snack trades, or trips to the mailroom.

he has a feeling it has something to do with dohwan.

just like how he knows the sobs emitting through his walls tonight has something to do with him.

jungkook hates overly loud sex, but more than that, he hates the sounds of your cries.

—

‘cheer up, 307. you deserve some sweetness in your day. ps. i’m gonna make you run if you keep missing our walks. also? stop avoiding me, it’s annoying - jk’

you smile and sip the banana milk jungkook left outside your door.

he always had a way with cheering you up despite being a headache for some time in your life. your therapist recommended to decentralize men from your life for a while … sure, jungkook fits in that category, but he’s also your friend.

you slowly let him back in.

he’s been good to you. though, you can’t say the same for yourself. you’ve been a shitty neighbor and a shitty friend.

yet jungkook shrugs it off and treats you normally.

you’ve been mending a broken heart and jungkook has been a great company meanwhile.

“you really need to work on your conflict avoidance, 307.” jungkook says one evening. he’s sprawled out on your couch with a bag of chips in his hands. it’s movie night — a tradition he forced upon you because you’ve apparently never watched the movie trolls.

you peel your eyes from the screen and tilt your head, “what do you mean?”

“any time something gets tough, you run away. gotta stop that, say what’s on your mind and work it out.”

“hm.”

“what?” he presses.

“nothing.”

“see? you’re doing it again. just say what you wanna say,” jungkook rolls his eyes.

“fine,” you chew on your bottom lip, “i hate this movie.”

jungkook had picked trolls 2 and it was so much more awful in comparison to the first one you were forced to watch last weekend.

“fuckin knew it. you’ve been spacing out all night,” he laughs, “see, doesn’t it feel good to be honest bout your feelings?” he reaches for your remote to switch to another movie. you watch him. really take him in and almost want to laugh at how horrible your first couple of months was with him and now he’s in your apartment watching awful movies with you to nurse your brokenheart.

you really had read jungkook wrong. he wasn’t just some conventionally attractive man that used his pretty privilege to get his way. he was genuinely a good person.

which makes you think … why the fuck is he hanging around someone like you on a friday night? he could be hanging out with some friends or going on a blind date with a pretty girl. better yet, why isn’t he in a relationship with someone?

was he just like you?

his voice brings you out of your thoughts, “alright, spill it 307. you look like you have something else to say.”

you sigh.

“how are you still single? just … i know you’re always dating different people. it can’t be that bad for you right? i mean, if you’re struggling … i feel kind of hopeless for myself.”

jungkook looks at you, dimples on display as he contemplates on what he wants to say next. the thing about jungkook is that he looks like he belongs in your circle — fits perfectly, actually. has a way of making you feel safe and comfortable about asking hard questions. he may tease you, but he’ll never judge you.

he ruffles your hair.

“just haven’t found the right one. it takes time and i’m in no rush. you shouldn’t either.” you feel yourself soften from his remarks until, “or else you’ll end up with a gorilla again.”

—

jungkook is treading in dangerous territories.

aside from trying to potty train his new doberman puppy, bam, he’s faced with another issue.

he may have developed a small crush on his neighbor. he can’t pinpoint exactly when he started getting that fuzzy warm feeling around you. it was a telltale sign when he’d wake up and sleep to the thought of you.

you can’t really blame all of this on him though. you’ve been a little more open about hanging out with him since your breakup with dohwan. jungkook has gotten used to your presence as a result. some people would see it as using jungkook as a rebound, but he feels anything but that.

you’re a breath of fresh air to hang around after a long day of work. which is funny cause there was a period of time he considered hexing you. now? he longs to see you and fill in gaps of his day with you. when he doesn’t see you, he thinks of you.

that just might be his demise.

even bam has taken a liking to you and often refuses to let you go back home when you are over.

like dog, like owner.

“aw bammie,” you kneel down, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

bam whines and follows you to the door.

“you can stay if you like, the guys won’t mind.” jungkook reasons. he’s having a small get together with some of his friends and extended the invite to you. you declined, telling him you don’t want to intrude and he should spend some quality time with them.

“just say that you want to be with me 24/7 and go,” you joke. jungkook won’t admit to you he does.

“nah, just need someone to watch bam while i have some bro time.” he teases back.

“hire a dog nanny then,” your hands automatically reaches down to scratch behind bam’s ear. there’s no need to hire one cause you’d willingly take care of bam for free. it’s all fun and jokes, jungkook knows this. he laughs and holds bam back from following you out the door.

“be on your best behavior tonight for your daddy, ‘kay?” you talk to bam like you’re his mom and jungkook’s stomach does flips at the mention of ‘daddy’ leaving your lips, “if it gets too much, you can sleep over at my place.”

bam has a sleeping mat at your place too. you’ve gotten it for him when jungkook comes over to watch movies — insisted that the pup should have a comfortable space in your home.

jungkook feels like he’s sharing custody with you. everything feels more domestic and it’s fucking with jungkook’s head and heart. which is why he asked you to dog sit bam while he goes on a date next weekend with some client’s friend he met at the tattoo parlor. thinks this date would be a good reset from you.

you wave goodbye to him, a playful grin adorning your lips, “have fun tonight, 305. if it gets too much, you can also come to my place too.”

he hates when you tease like this. makes him feel like he holds a space in your life more than he already should. knows you’re joking, but can tell there’s some truth in your statement. you’re attached to him just as much as he is to you.

“also, try not to be too loud tonight.”

“no promises,” he laughs, “hobi-hyung will be over.”

you giggle, you’ve met hoseok in the passing and also teased him too for causing a ruckus at the housewarming party. all his friends like you — it’s no surprise jungkook would eventually too.

so yeah, he’s treading in dangerous territories.

—

you’ve really been focused on yourself and your friendships. on your hardest days where you yearn for intimacy, you force yourself to be okay with the idea and concept of being alone. there’s a lot of bad days, but they get better.

it’s not always about being in isolation though.

it’s about not being dependent on someone to fill a void.

with dohwan, you realized you fell in the pattern of needing to be around him and when he wasn’t there, the world crumbled beneath your feet. over time, you realized he wasn’t good for you.

wrong person, wrong time.

because the right person will always make you feel safe and seen.

jungkook was right. it’ll take time to find that person — there’s no rush.

yet, you have this disquieting feeling when you see him rustling through his home to get ready for his date tonight. what do you do when you feel like the right person might be slipping away under your nose?

right person, wrong time, you suppose.

bam, his not so small puppy, lays his head on your lap and would occasionally lift it when jungkook walks close. if bam is doting with you, he’s completely devoted to jungkook.

doesn’t realize that his dad is gonna leave you both until he puts on his shoes at the door.

“ah-ah, bammie, stay,” you hold him and he whimpers for jungkook.

“well? how do i look?” jungkook does a quick 360 and you wanna poke fun at him, but you can tell he’s on edge for whatever reason. he has no reason to be. he’s charming, handsome, and knows exactly what to say or do to make someone’s heart skip a beat as he’s done so to you numerous times — you’d never admit it.

he’s your neighbor and most importantly, your friend. it’s a sacred relationship and boundary you’re hesitant to break. so you swallow down whatever you’re feeling and smile reassuringly to him, “you look great, jungkook.”

he beams and extends his hands out for a high-five, “thanks, wish me luck.”

your hands make contact with his and it feels electrifying.

“no luck needed, mr. 305 worldwide.” he absolutely hates the new nickname you’ve given him, doesn’t argue back though, simply scoffs and looks at the time on his phone.

“now go before you’re late and bam bolts out the door for you.” you shoo him out his own apartment.

he reaches down to pat bam on his head and give him some tender smooches.

“call me if there’s an emergency or if you’re bored.” he tells you with his hands shoved in his pockets and some of his bangs fall onto his forehead. there’s something so boyish about his mannerisms … you swallow thickly when you feel the knots tighten in your stomach. a part of you wonders if you tell him to bail on the date, would he? you’re not cruel enough to do that to him and his date. they could be soulmates for all you know.

“and what? you’ll come entertain me?” your eyes squint, “go enjoy your date, 305. we’ll be here.”

before you know it, he’s out the door and you’re left wondering what if.

—

jungkook didn’t realize how much of a disaster the date was going until his date seated across from him rolls her eyes.

“i’m sorry … am i boring you with my story?” he was telling her how he had to help you break into your own apartment because you forgot to bring your keys in the middle of the night.

“it just seems like you’re wasting both our times.” she says and places her drink down. her red manicured fingers circle the rim of her cup.

he’s confused. jungkook has been doing his best to keep the date afloat by talking and asking questions. he thought it’s been going well, minus the couple of times he checked his phone to see if he got any emergency texts from you about bam.

“i mean, why are you here when you clearly like someone else?”

“i don’t get—wait, what?”

“your neighbor 007 or whatever.” she says. it’s the wrong number and she knows it, but wants to see if jungkook reacts, “you’ve been talking about her all night.”

has he? he was just making light conversation … you’re a part of his life so slipping your name here and there feels natural.

“look, you seem like a nice guy. you’re obviously good looking too. if you’re not looking for anything serious, we can go back to my apartment right now for some fun. but long term? it feels like you have someone waiting at home for you.”

and the mood goes sour. jungkook is used to this. used to his dates objectifying him as a quick and good fuck — granted, he’s played this to his advantage when he was younger. now? it feels meaningless. he isn’t upset at that.

it’s the utter realization that he does have someone special to him and you’ve been right under his nose all this time. he’s always telling you to be honest with your feelings, yet he can’t even bring himself to uphold that advice for whatever reason.

jungkook apologizes to his date again, pays for the tab, and rushes home.

—

home can be a place, but for jungkook, it’s seeing you on his couch and greeting him with a sleepy smile.

bam jumps off your lap to nudge jungkook’s leg for attention.

“has he been good?” jungkook asks while scratching bam’s head, though he stops momentarily at the sight of you stretching and your shirt lifts a little to reveal the curves of your hips.

“mhm, an angel. how was the date?”

he contemplates on lying, but knows better. needs to practice what he preaches.

“bad.”

“oh? wanna talk about it?”

“uh, i kinda fucked it up,” jungkook toes off his shoes and avoids your eye contact.

“classic, first impressions have never been your strongest suit.” you put on your jacket and jungkook panics at the thought of you leaving early. he exhales a breath he’s been holding when you plop back down on his couch where he soon joins you.

“i’m not always that bad.” he mumbles.

“i know, i’m just teasing you.” you reach over to pinch his cheek.

when he doesn’t reply, it gets you a little worried. you didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“sorry—“

“i kept bringing you up during the date.” he cuts you off.

“oof, no girl wants to hear about another girl …” technically, you’re hoping jungkook doesn’t talk about this one … let alone his previous dates or exes.

“i know,” he murmurs, leans his head back, and sighs, “she … called me out on it.”

“good, as she should.”

jungkook hesitates with his next words, but pushes forward, “said it’s cause i liked you.”

you pause. you could hear a pin drop in the room, minus bam’s paws making contact with the hardwood floor.

“oh … um,” you’re not dumb, you understand what he’s implying. you just don’t know how you’re going to run away from this conversation.

“i know you’re already planning your escape, 307,” he chuckles. his laugh sounds a little melancholy and an instant flood of guilt rushes through you.

“what! no! i-i just don’t know what to say,” you nibble on your lips. you’re fucking scared for what’s to come.

“just hear me out, okay?”

you nod, listen to him clear his throat and exhale a shaky breath.

“i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you. maybe it’s cause i’m a creature of habit or whatever … well no, i don’t think it’s that. i like being around you and i’m thankful you’re in my life.” he looks and smiles at you fondly, as if he is preparing himself for the biggest rejection, “i like you … a lot. you don’t have to accept my feelings nor do anything with it. these feelings are mine and i just wanted to be honest with you. at the end of the day, i’d still like to remain friends as long as you’ll allow me.”

you want to fucking cry. he’s always been better at words and expressing himself. you see it in how he treats his friends, his dog, his profession and art … most importantly, you. you also want to be honest with him, but it already seems like he’s accepting the fate of nothing more.

you owe him the truth at least.

“jungkook … i—“ you begin, “i like you a lot too.”

jungkook lets out an exasperating grunt — he thinks you’re pitying him.

“please don’t feel the need to sugarcoat, 307. i just wanted to be—“

you press your lips to his. the kiss was too quick for anyone to process anything. you’ll remember though. you’ll remember his strawberry flavored chapstick, the cold lip piercing barrels, and the way he leans in slightly to chase after your lips when you pull away too soon. jungkook’s eyes widen at the realization that you just kissed him. all too short and he doesn’t think he can stop thinking about you after this anymore even if he tried.

“your feelings are yours,” you hold his hand, “but these are mine too.”

he whispers your name lowly and you shake your head.

“i’m no good with words,” you confess, “i just know that i like you too. but … i’m also a fucking mess, jungkook.”

“huh? no, you’re—“

“yeah, i am. i just got out of something long term … it wouldn’t be good for me to jump into another relationship. i don’t think it’s fair for you to deal with all my baggage when i haven’t sorted myself out.”

he nods, a little dejected but he understands what you mean.

right person, wrong time.

“okay,” he finally says, “nothing will change. friends?”

“friends,” you agree.

it’s a promise out of respect for you. will you regret this? possibly. though, everything feels normal when he walks you to your door later and wishes you a goodnight.

“don’t be fucking weird after tonight. if you avoid me, i’m making you run 10 laps every friday, 307.”

“rude,” you roll your eyes, “i should be saying that to you. don’t be fucking weird or else you’re getting another glitter bomb in the mail.”

“that shit was the worst to get off.”

“funny as hell though.”

“yeah, for you.”

everything feels so natural and safe with jungkook. how he looks at you, laughs at your jokes, eyes twinkle when you do the same for him. you don’t need the night sky when you got galaxies staring back at you.

—

“with all due respect, you’re being stupid.” nayeon says through the speaker.

“how? we both agreed that staying friends would be the best.” you reply a little louder over your sink. your kitchen was overdue for a cleaning and the weekends were the perfect time to catch up on chores.

you’re on the phone with nayeon and it’s a good distraction while you busy yourself with other things at the same time. though, you’re sort of regretting the call now with nayeon berating you for your decision to remain friends with jungkook a month ago.

“people can still date and work on themselves. it’s not a linear thing.”

“yeah, but—“

“you’re just scared. i know you.”

“nayeon …”

“jungkook and dohwan aren’t the same. anyone can get hurt in a relationship, but you shouldn’t deny yourself of something out of fear.”

“yes, but … i don’t think i’d be able to face jungkook if something bad does happen.” you’re serious. running away is your strong suit and you’d move out immediately if shit hits the fan.

“so you’d have no regrets staying like this?”

you don’t reply and that was an answer in itself.

“why are you so hellbent on me and jungkook? i thought you hated him …” it’s sort of funny to be talking to nayeon of all people about jungkook. hell, it’s thanks to jungkook’s mess up on their first tinder date that helped you land your friendship with nayeon.

everything happens for a reason.

“i only hated him cause you did. that’s what friends do, silly. also, if you’re feeling awkward because he and i dated … don’t. there wasn’t anything more. anyways, stop avoiding. you always do this.” she’s right. you’re the queen of avoiding hard conversations.

“i don’t want to lose a friend, nayeon.”

“you won’t. but you’ll lose your chance at experiencing something beautiful, sweetie,” she says, “you owe it to yourself. but hey, i gotta go to my pilates class. i’ll text you later, okay? i love you!”

“okay, love you too. i’m sorry for being difficult. don’t pull a muscle in class!”

“if i do, will you give me a massage?” she laughs, “and no, you’re never difficult. just you being you.”

the call ends and you’re left alone once again with your thoughts. things haven’t really changed between you and jungkook. he’s still his chipper self. you just yearn for more time with him these days. every subtle touch … whether it be his hand on your lower back guiding you upstairs, his fingers brushing yours during the walks, or when he massages your feet upon request sends you into a place where you feel yourself succumbing to your deepest desires.

you want more.

you can tell jungkook does too. he’s unashamed in his affections towards you but he’ll never pressure you or cross that boundary you’ve set.

you realize it hurts to deny yourself of wanting someone who wants you just as equally.

—

you’re at jungkook’s place again one evening. bam is all tuckered out from his walk and jungkook is fixing a bowl of popcorn to snack on while you search through netflix for something to watch.

it’s your pick tonight and you wanted to watch a crime documentary. ghost and thrillers don’t interest you, but crimes? yeah, full body chills because they’re real.

you turn to see jungkook in a big white t-shirt with grey sweats — he looks so comfortable. he’s seasoning the popcorn and catches you staring at him. he shakes his head and smiles back down bashfully at his bowl.

he looks like home … no, he feels like home.

fuck.

you really are torturing yourself.

when jungkook settles onto the couch and the documentary starts, you scoot closer to him. you don’t know if you’re making a fool of yourself, but jungkook pays no mind. his arm circle around you effortlessly and you nestle your cheek into his chest.

so warm — he smells so nice. jungkook sports on a lax expression, yet you can feel and hear the rapid thumps of his heart.

“you sure friends cuddle when they watch shit together?” he mumbles, eyes trained on the television.

“no,” you look up at him, “do you not want to?” you start to move away, but jungkook holds you in place.

he feels your smile through his shirt. yeah, you’re torturing him and he’s enjoying it.

as the documentary plays, jungkook gets immersed in the story. he looks a little silly with his big eyes and mouth slightly ajar as he soaks in all the crime details and backstory. his hand involuntarily moves to massage your scalp and you feel yourself lulled to sleep under his touch.

after a while, he calls your name and gently shakes you awake.

“hey sleepyhead. had a good nap?” he muses.

“mhm, sorry … was so tired from work. did i miss a lot?” you look at the dark television screen and feel guilty.

“just the entire documentary,” he teases, “it’s alright, you wouldn’t be traumatized like me now. i know i’m going to be having nightmares.”

“‘m sorry,” you snuggle closer to him and his breath hitches, “anything i can do to help?”

“hmm …” he holds his thinking pose, “i don’t know, maybe a kiss?”

“just kidding, 307. it’s late, so let’s get you hom—”

“yeah? think a kiss will make you feel better?” you press on.

you knew he was joking, but there’s a surge of confidence coursing in you when you push up on him and he swallows hard. he says your name in warning but he makes no effort to move or push you away. he wants this badly too. been thinking about you and your lips since you last kissed him — never stopped.

“don’t do something you’ll regret.” his hand cradles your cheek.

“i’m not,” your nose brush against his, “i wanna kiss you. please, will you let me?” you ask with pleading eyes and jungkook lets out a shuddering breath and nods.

you look down at his parted lips and back at his hooded eyes. you’re not sure who moved first — it doesn’t matter.

when your lips meet, it’s like heaven and hell collided and made earth — waves crashing onto land, blue horizons, and the smell of pinewood after rain. you don’t think you can let go of this feeling any time soon and when you finally do give into your longings, life feels a little more salvageable … freeing.

jungkook slots his lips between yours, pulling you up to straddle his lap. he moans when your hands tangle in his hair and pulls you in closer if that was even possible.

you lick into his parting mouth when he pants, indulge in the way he sounds as he’s kissing you back. the kiss is hard and passionate — so much more different than the first one you had. there’s a sense of urgency here … like there’s a time constraint or limitation to your affections. you wish you could reassure him; though the best you can do at this moment is to drink him in as much as he allows you to. his hands roam all over your body and you shiver in pleasure when one of his hand travels to the front of your throat possessively. there’s no pressure in his hold, but it’s telling you that you belong here with him.

when you finally do pull away, you plant dainty kisses on the corner of his lips and jaw. he giggles at the tickling feeling and brings your face back to his to give you a much gentler kiss. though you are no longer kissing, your foreheads stay connected in place.

“there, much better, right?” you say breathlessly.

“mhm,” he replies, “should’ve used the trauma card earlier if i knew i’d be getting free kisses.”

your brain is going a mile a second, but you’re sure of this.

“you don’t need to,” you say a little uncertain. jungkook straightens himself in his seated position when he realizes you’re about to say something serious.

“you can kiss me whenever you want … if you want! i know i said we should stay friends, but i think i like you too much to just stay that way. i want to see where things go and i’m fucking scared. i mean, fuck, am i making any sense? please say something,” you’re rambling and jungkook can only smile as you unravel through your confession.

of course he wants more with you.

“just say you want me and go, 307.” he laughs when you pull away cutely. he has no intentions of letting you go and you had no intentions of leaving. it’s too comfortable in his embrace.

“we’ll take things slow, okay?” he kisses your nose in reassurance.

“okay.”

—

fast forward three months, you and jungkook have been dating each other — slow and steady as promised. no official title (yet) but you know he’s exclusively seeing you. you’re enjoying his company and there’s no rush. when there’s something special and secure, it’s all smooth sailing and calm tides. you never have to guess with him.

he feels the same with you.

this marks the 13th weekend date with you and he’s going to do it. jungkook is going to ask you to be his girlfriend. he’s fucking nervous … has a whole date planned: dinner, movies, then back to his place where he’ll officially ask you.

part of him wants to wait for the next weekend because the number 13 was bad luck, but he’s felt nothing but luck with you. luck in the chances of meeting you in this apartment complex, luck in your friendship, and now luck with the prospect of love.

so when your door swings open to reveal you in a short black satin dress, hair done prettily, and your skin dewey and sparkly from your makeup, he knew was going to make 13 lucky no matter what.

“you look beautiful,” jungkook compliments and holds out his hand to walk you down the stairs.

“you don’t look half bad too,” you taunt, taking his warm hand. there’s no malice cause jungkook knows how you feel about him. notices how your eyes rake over his form, has caught you checking him out plenty of times before, felt the way your lips moved on his skin to praise how hot he looked one evening despite him coming back looking like a sweaty hog that’s been run over by a train.

if you’re curious … aside from making out and heavy petting paired with some dry humping sessions here and there, no, they haven’t had sex. probably for the better, it’s already hard enough to separate from each other after every hangout.

slow and steady. you are both fine with that.

“sooo, you gonna tell me where we’re going or is this where you murder me?” you check your lip gloss in the rear view mirror. jungkook’s right hand naturally find its way to your thighs while he drives.

“you’ll find out soon,” he gives you a little squeeze and it sends a little tingle to your core.

—

it’s going terribly.

traffic was absolutely ass for no reason, so they get to their first destination 45 minutes later than anticipated. the restaurant he had reservations for let him know that the kitchen caught on fire the moment he parked in the lot.

okay, fine. to the movies it is.

except, the movie stopped halfway through due to some technical difficulties. he was going to lose his mind, but you were a good sport through it all. jungkook still had one final trick up his sleeve for you.

when you both finally get back to his place with bags of takeout, jungkook lets out a wail of frustration.

“bam, no!”

all the balloons he blew up have been popped. you look past his shoulders to see a torn up sign with the words: wil u e my fren?

bam prances to you and jungkook with his wagging tail, unaware of jungkook’s inner anguish and turmoil. jungkook runs his hands over his face and freezes in place.

“aw baby,” you try comforting jungkook, “it was an accident. bam didn’t know.”

“i know, i just … fuck, gimme a minute.” jungkook stalks over to his bedroom and closes the door. you place the bags of food on the dining table and crouch down to pet bam.

“you really upset your dad, bammie. he worked really hard on this,” you know bam doesn’t understand a single word you’re saying, but you’re disappointed for jungkook too. jungkook really put in the effort and you’re touched by it all. he really wants you and you want nothing more than to be his.

you feed bam his dinner and set the takeout in the fridge, unsure of when you and jungkook will be ready to eat.

hesitantly, you knock on jungkook’s door. know you don’t need his permission to come in — you’ve slept over plenty of times, but still do it out of courtesy.

“can i come in, kook?”

a moment of silence ensues before you hear a little, “… yeah.”

jungkook was on his bed, feet still on the floor with his arms sprawled out. poor boy.

you climb onto bed next to him and lay your head on his shoulder.

he’s visibly upset — not at you of course. he just wanted to make this special.

“that was fucking cute. no one has ever done that for me before.” you say. the best you got from dohwan were a bouquet of roses sent to your workplace. jungkook’s efforts superseded your expectations.

“which part? no dinner, no movies, or the shit show of a sign?”

“all of it.”

“pff, don’t lie.” he sulks.

you throw your leg over his torso to straddle his waist.

“i’m not! you’re so fucking sweet,” you move down to kiss his cheek when he doesn’t look up at you.

“come on, don’t you want my answer?” you place his hands on your hips, wanting him to touch you somewhere.

he cocks his brow at you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“fine fine, i’ll be your ‘fren’ if that’s what you want.”

he covers his face in embarrassment, “ugh, that shit was so humiliating. bam isn’t getting any treats for the next three days.”

“hey! don’t punish my baby. it was an honest mistake.” you reassure him, “plus, i gave him an earful.” yeah, and his dinner right after. it’s no wonder bam likes you a lot more these days.

“okay, okay … i’m still sorry about today. nothing went accordingly.” jungkook sighs and rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“you’re not allowed to punish yourself either,” you say a matter of fact, “did you mean it though?” you look at him through your lashes.

“hm?”

“want me as your girlfriend?” when you finally say those words, it sets off a bundle of butterflies in your stomach.

jungkook quickly sits up, holding you securely so you don’t topple over, “of course, i do. just wanted to make it special for you.”

you felt fucking special.

so fucking special in how you said yes, saw how he beamed at your answer, kisses you silly, tongue running down your neck, the little bites on your collarbone — you’re on cloud 9.

he involuntarily drags your hips over his clothed length and you whimper upon contact.

“you hungry, baby? we didn’t have dinner yet,” jungkook asks innocently through his heavy breaths, but you’re too busy trying to unbutton his dress shirt. how could he possibly think about food at a time like this? then again, you have to remember he’s the biggest foodie known to earth. he’s caring of your wellbeing so of course he’d worry if you’re hungry.

he’s also your boyfriend now.

you shake your head. you don’t just want him — you need him.

you slide off of him and are on your knees in between his legs. he looks at you through his heavy lids when you clock your head to the side, waiting for the green light to take off his pants.

“you’ve been so good to me, planning this date … lemme show you how thankful i am.”

jungkook loves being praised and rewarded. he especially loves it even more coming from you. he lets out a moan when you run your hand down his clothed bulge. yes, jungkook has had sex before — honestly, don’t ask him about his body count … he’s not sure either. what he’s sure is that he loses all senses when you touch him — like a virgin touched for the very first time.

his pants are down and kicked off to the side, shirt unbuttoned haphazardly, and head thrown back when you settle between his legs to give his hard length a squeeze.

he’s so fucking big in your hand and your mouth nearly waters at the sight of his precum leaking from the slit of his cock. fuck, you don’t know how he’s going to fit in your mouth, but it doesn’t matter. you’re going to make him come undone one way or another.

“baby, i’m literally going to nut if you keep squeezing me like that.”

you laugh, “how long are you going to last inside me then?”

“fuck, you can’t say shit like that.”

“why not?” you press a small kiss on his hip bone and pump his cock with your hand. his eyes closes and mouth drops open at the change of movement.

“gonna nut even faster,” he chuckles.

jungkook hisses when you lick a long stripe underneath his shaft without warning. one of his hand reaches behind your head for support while the other one grips his bedsheets.

“oh god,” he lets out a small moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and begin to bob your head at a pace that has him seeing stars.

his cock was lathered with your spit and his precum. the sounds you made while you sucked him off were nearly pornographic. his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head when his cock hits the back of your throat.

“shit, oh f-fuck,” his fingers are caught in your hair and your moans vibrate against him when he gently pushes your head down while he fucks up into your mouth.

if you keep going like this, he wasn’t going to last long and he really wants to … can’t bring himself to cum in your mouth just yet. he really wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to nut quick, so he pulls you away when he nearly cums. you breathe heavily through your swollen lips. jungkook runs his thumb on your cheeks where some mascara has smeared as a result of your doing.

you’re still so fucking perfect.

he lifts you from your kneeled position back onto his lap and kisses you slow and tenderly. jungkook whines into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. your dress has ridden up on your waist, the the thin straps are loose and off your shoulders.

“i somehow fucked up the entire night and you still decided to give me the best head? must really like me or something,” jungkook looks at you endearingly and takes notice of how you’re rutting yourself onto his length.

“you know i do. my boyfriend deserves the best.” jungkook’s heart soars at hearing the word boyfriend leave your lips.

yes, he’s yours.

you shake in pleasure as you roll your hips deliciously slow on him. you’re practically soaked through your thin panties.

“did you get this wet just by sucking me off, baby?”

you nod and trail kisses on his cheeks and jaw, “all for you, kook. you always make me this wet.”

he takes so much pride in how he’s able to get you all worked up like this.

jungkook wasn’t expecting to have sex with you tonight, but it’s like you said … it’s special. the rest of your clothing join his in a pile on the ground. he rolls you onto your back and drinks in your naked form. you shy away from his stares and kiss up at him.

your hand reach between you both while he continues to kiss you and you position his still-hard cock in between your folds for that additional friction. the wet clicks mixes in with both your pantings and synchronized moans. every time the head of his cock slides and catches onto your swollen clit, you shudder and arch your back in pleasure.

“want you to fuck me,” you kiss his pouty lips and down his neck, “please?”

jungkook leans back a little, sits on the heels of his feet, and pushes your thighs close to your chest. the angle lets him move and slide your hips up and down his length even more. you gasp and call out his name in wanton.

he drops your legs down and closes the distance between you both again. his bare chest brushes against yours and he lines his cock at your entrance.

“you’re so perfect,” his breath fans over your face, “so lucky to have you.” jungkook swoops his arms under you in a tight embrace. you look at him through your glassy eyes and wrap your arms around his neck.

your heart swells at his words.

there’s little to no resistance when jungkook finally enters you.

it’s a mixture of sweet, nasty, loving, and primal desire how jungkook fucks you into his sheets. he hates loud sex, but he wants to hear all of you. the way you mewl, whimper, cry, and breathe — all of it.

and when you wrap your legs around him and coax him into cumming inside you while your fingers trace the planes of his back, he knows he’s done for.

you giggle, nudge your forehead on his, hold his hand, and kiss all over his face. the afterglow on you both is stunning.

“you’re right, you didn’t last long at all.” you hum. jungkook raises one of his eyebrows and smiles mischievously. it’s a fucking lie since jungkook knows he made you cum at least twice in the span of fucking you, but who would you be if you didn’t try challenging him a little?

he doesn’t have to say anything before slipping down your body and burying his face in between your legs. he licks up your slit tentatively, watches your brows furrow and mouth part, and moans into your heat when your hand travels to his head to push him down as he did to you.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere,” jungkook means it both literally and figuratively. doesn’t understand how anyone could part from you. it’s their loss.

he continues lapping up your mixed essence, nipping at your inner thighs on occasion when your hips jerk away from the pleasure.

“kook, mmph- yes! just like that,” you encourage when he wraps his lips around your clit. he sucks, soothes, and makes out with your messy cunt. he wanted to draw out the night longer, toy and dangle your pleasure in front of you as a punishment for your teasing. knows he’s the reason you’re this wet, can’t bring himself to edge you on a special night like this — maybe another time when he’s feeling more mean. he has all the time in the world with you; there’s no rush.

tonight is all about you, his girlfriend — his.

“so close, baby,” you look down, hips stuttering under his hold as he doesn’t let up with his ministrations on your clit. he trails his fingers at your entrance, coating them with your juices before entering you slowly.

“yeah? won’t you give me another one? come on, i know you can do it,” he says between bated breaths. you shake and arch your back, mouth parts open but no sound comes out as you let the waves of pleasure ride over. the squelching sounds increase as his fingers fuck into you faster.

“i-i’m fucking cumming,” you cry out and jungkook nods in acknowledgement, moaning with you to draw out your orgasm. when you come for the third time that night, he wants to paint the image in his memory and revisit it on a rainy day. no promises that he won’t sport a hard on every time. the sight of you quivering, hands squeezing your chest and rolling your nipples between your fingers to prolong the pleasure, has his head spinning. jungkook trails kisses down your pussy, takes his fingers out and licks them clean before spreading you wider to clean you up with his tongue. he only part ways with your cunt when you whine for him.

he comes back up your body slowly, presses his lips on your tummy and giggles when you squirm from the sensation. however, when he is finally face to face with you again, jungkook has on this determined look.

he can’t seem to get enough of you and your body. addicted, he is.

“you’re not done with me, aren’t you?” you give him that pretty post-orgasmic smile.

never, he thinks.

jungkook was about to reply until the rumbles of your stomach cuts through the silence. it should be embarrassing but you feel close enough to jungkook that you both laugh at how unserious the situation is.

“come on baby, let’s go eat our dinner.” he pulls you up and puts you in one of his oversized t-shirts.

you still believe your ideal neighbor should be mindful, quiet, and kind. jungkook was certainly not mindful, quiet, or kind with how he entered into your life.

though, he wasn’t just someone who’d be your neighbor by the law of attraction and the cosmic pull of the universe.

love is patient, love is kind.

you know you’ve found your home — you just never expected it to be right next door.

fin.

—

a/n: tadaaaaaa. what’d you think? 😜

[bebx]

“enemies to lovers as a fictional trope is harmful because it normalizes and romanticizes abuse and toxicity” my brother in Christ, touch. grass. they fuck while trying to murder each other and also they use each other’s blood as lube and yeah they look hot as fuck. what are you going to do about it?

[kyri45]

[focusonkayjay]

nothing like us | oneshot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: enemies to lovers, fake dating, corporate employees! jungkook & reader, angst, fluff

Word Count: 26k+

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of blood, small injury (lmk if i missed something)

A/N: hello bbies <3 i firstly want to apologize for not posting these past few days. i've been so undeniably busy with uni and work and i totally didn't get the time to proof read before posting. anyways, i hope you like this new oneshot. it's not my best work but parts of it is inspired by "to all the boys i've loved before". (my fav hot tub scene). anyways let me know if you liked this one. muah <3

You take a sip of coffee in the dimly lit office coffee room, letting the rich aroma soothe your nerves. The quiet hum of the vending machine is the only sound accompanying you, a welcome reprieve from the chaos outside.

It’s been one of those days... emails piling up, back-to-back meetings, and a project deadline looming over your head. This is your sanctuary, a brief moment of peace in the hurricane of corporate monotony.

Your job isn’t terrible, though. It’s a typical corporate gig with all the spreadsheets, presentations, polite nods in meetings, and the occasional office drama. Sure, you’d rather be at home binge-watching your favorite series, but hey, bills don’t pay themselves.

As you savor the quiet, your moment of zen is abruptly interrupted. “Y/N-ahhh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all afternoon!” You almost choke on your coffee at the familiar voice. With a resigned sigh, you turn to face Mrs. Lee.

Mrs. Lee is a middle-aged coworker who’s perpetually cheerful and undoubtedly kind. She’s the type of person who brings in homemade snacks for the whole team and remembers everyone’s birthdays. But she also has a certain... hobby... trying to convince you to go on blind dates.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee.” you greet her politely, though you can already guess what she’s about to say. She clasps her hands together, her smile lighting up the room. “So! Remember how I told you about my nephew who just moved to the city? He’s such a sweet boy, Y/N, and I just know you two would hit it off!”

You suppress a sigh, forcing your features into a polite expression. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Lee, but—”

“Oh, don’t say no just yet! He’s a doctor, you know. Very handsome, tall, comes from a good family... he even volunteers at animal shelters in his free time!” she cuts you off, her smile only getting bigger.

You resist the urge to groan. This isn’t the first time she’s done this. In fact, it’s become a bit of a routine. She genuinely believes you’re some sort of eligible bachelorette in desperate need of matchmaking services. No matter how many times you’ve politely declined in the past, she always finds a way to circle back to it.

“Mrs. Lee...” you begin gently. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Things are just... really busy at work.”

She waves a dismissive hand, undeterred. “Nonsense! You work too hard, Y/N. A nice young man in your life would do wonders for you!” she says. Before you can come up with another excuse, a voice cuts through the room.

“Y/N... Mrs. Lee...” Suho’s head peeks into the coffee room, his usual friendly smile plastered across his face. “Mr. Cho is expecting all of us in the meeting room in five. Says it’s something... important.” he informs.

“Oh, Suho! Thank you, dear!” Mrs. Lee chirps, momentarily distracted. Suho flashes another warm smile before disappearing down the hallway. You silently thank him for the interruption, offering Mrs. Lee a tight-lipped smile as the two of you make your way out of the coffee room. But Mrs. Lee, ever-persistent, continues.

“Y/N, you really shouldn’t let opportunities like this slip by! Life is short, and my nephew really is such a catch—”

She goes on and on and you nod absently, tuning out her words as you walk down the hallway. But then, halfway there, your stomach sinks. Coming from the opposite direction, making his way to the meeting room, is fricking Jeon Jungkook.

Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly recover, your face already settling into an expression of disdain. Jungkook’s sharp eyes sweep across the hallway, landing on you and Mrs. Lee.

Instantly, you see his jaw tighten, and his gaze flickers with something like annoyance before he rolls his eyes in that infuriatingly dismissive way he always does. You’re quick to mirror his reaction, rolling your eyes as if it’s a reflex.

Jeon Jungkook or let's just call him your biggest arch-nemesis in this corporate jungle.

The two of you joined the company around the same time, and from the very beginning, sparks flew... but not the good kind. Where you had opinions, Jungkook had ego. Where he had solutions, you had questions. You were never the type to back down, and he… well, he hated that.

It became an unspoken rule in the office that if there was a debate in the room, it would almost certainly come down to you and Jungkook.

Everyone at work knew about your rivalry. In fact, it was often a good source of entertainment for them. Colleagues would exchange amused glances during meetings, silently placing bets on who would win the latest argument. There were even whispered jokes about how HR should schedule weekly sparring matches so that both of you could get it out of your systems. But as amusing as it might’ve been for them, it was maddening for you.

It wasn’t that Jungkook was bad at his job... in fact, quite the opposite. There was no denying that the two of you were both extremely good at what you did. You were equally hardworking, equally determined to excel. If anything, that was part of the problem. Two strong personalities in one workplace rarely made for smooth collaboration.

The issue was that you and Jungkook barely saw eye to eye on certain matters. Whether it was strategies, execution, or even the smallest logistical details, there was always some point of contention that spiraled into an argument. It was as if the universe had specifically designed your opinions to clash with his.

And then there was his disgustingly unshakable confidence, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes so far back you could see the back of your mind. He carried himself with an air of smug assurance that made every interaction with him feel like a battle, one he always seemed convinced he was winning.

To make matters worse, he was also ridiculously attractive. It annoyed you to no end that someone who drove you up the wall could also make your stomach twist with just a glance.

His sharp jawline, perfectly styled hair, and those dark, piercing eyes seemed designed to undermine your ability to stay focused. And he knew it. Every smirk, every infuriatingly casual lean against your desk felt like he was taunting you, daring you to admit it.

But any time your thoughts veered into that dangerous territory, he’d open his mouth, say something infuriating, and all your annoyance would come rushing back, as strong as ever.

Of course, the office thrived on your interactions. The two of you were practically a live sitcom, providing endless entertainment for your coworkers. But sometimes, things got a little too intense, and someone would have to step in to calm you guys down.

Yet no amount of intervention could completely quash the fire that burned whenever you and Jungkook were in the same room. It wasn’t just rivalry... it was a war of egos, fueled by equal parts frustration and… something neither of you wanted to name.

The hallway feels smaller as the distance between you closes. Jungkook walks with an air of effortless confidence, his light blue dress shirt crisp and clean, the sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at his tattooed forearms. Over it, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater vest that adds a touch of casual sophistication, paired with black trousers. It’s annoyingly polished for someone who thrives on getting under your skin.

His dark hair is pushed back neatly, save for a single stray strand that rebelliously falls across his forehead. Despite his put-together appearance, the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to spark irritation.

Mrs. Lee, oblivious to the silent war brewing between you, continues talking about her nephew.

You can’t help but think Jungkook must enjoy this little rivalry of yours. He certainly doesn’t miss an opportunity to challenge you, whether it’s in meetings, brainstorming sessions, or even during team lunches. You’re pretty sure his smugness comes factory-installed.

As you enter the meeting room, the irritation doesn’t subside. The long rectangular table is surrounded by your coworkers, with Mr. Cho seated at the head. You take a seat, only for Jungkook to take the one directly opposite you.

Great. Just great.

He catches your gaze across the table and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to start something. You don’t take the bait, instead turning your attention to Mr. Cho, whose grin is wider than usual. He clasps his hands together, his eyes sweeping across the room.

“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. This isn’t one of our regular check-ins.” he begins, pausing dramatically for effect. “I wanted to let you know about something exciting… our annual company holiday retreat!!!” he beams.

A murmur of enthusiasm ripples through the room. You take a deep breath, the announcement catching you a bit off guard. This will be your first time attending the retreat, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect.

Mr. Cho continues, his excitement palpable. “This year, we’ve decided to take things up a notch. The retreat will be held for a whole week at the Hanok Mountain Lodge, a luxurious resort nestled in the hills. It’s a stunning location with breathtaking views, cozy cabins, and plenty of activities to help us unwind and bond as a team.”

You glance around and notice your coworkers exchanging thrilled looks. Clearly, this retreat is a highlight for many of them. Mr. Cho goes on, describing the itinerary.

“There will be team-building workshops, outdoor activities like hiking and zip-lining, and of course, plenty of time to relax and enjoy the amenities. There’s also hot tubs, a spa, and for those of you who enjoy it, a private bar lounge. And let’s not forget our tradition... the talent show on the last evening!” He claps his hands together, clearly excited.

You shift in your seat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbling within you. A mountain lodge retreat sounded idyllic, but the idea of spending extended time with Jungkook outside the professional setting wasn’t exactly thrilling.

Hoseok, seated beside you, nudges your arm gently. You glance at him, and his heart shaped smile instantly puts you at ease. “It’s your first time, right?” he asks, his tone soft but teasing. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be a lot of fun. They always plan these things really well.” he says. You smile back with a nod, grateful for the reassurance.

As Mr. Cho wraps up his briefing, your initial apprehension begins to fade, replaced by a tentative excitement. A luxurious mountain lodge retreat does sound like a dream... if you ignore the part where Jungkook would also be there.

//

It’s the day of the retreat, and the soft hues of dawn paint the sky as the company bus idles at the curb, its engine rumbling like a low purr. The bus is alive with chatter, a mix of excitement and sleepiness as everyone settles into their seats. Conversations flow freely, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of coffee thermoses.

You’re seated midway down the bus, comfortably beside Hoseok. He’s leaning slightly towards you, gesturing animatedly as he talks about the best hiking trails around the lodge. His voice carries a warmth that puts you at ease, and you find yourself nodding along, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you sip your coffee.

The bus door hisses open, and Jungkook steps in, dressed in a casual, perfect combination of a black hoodie and fitted jeans. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he didn’t try but somehow still managed to look effortlessly good. His eyes scan the bus with practiced disinterest, sweeping over rows of coworkers until they suddenly land on you.

You, with your head tilted slightly towards Hoseok, a small laugh escaping as he finishes whatever he's saying. Hoseok's grin is wide as he teases you about something that Jungkook can't hear.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his posture stiffening. The sight is a familiar punch to the gut, a wave of something uncomfortably sharp and consuming. He can’t name it... doesn’t want to name it... but it churns in his stomach like an unwelcome storm. His grip on the strap of his bag tightens.

Every time this happens, he tell himself it's just irritation. After all, it’s not like he cares who you talk to. You’re just his rival, his constant thorn. But deep down, a crack forms in that reasoning, and he’s too stubborn to look any closer.

His gaze flickers away, quick and practiced, like an artist shading over a mistake. He moves down the aisle with a measured stride, ignoring the way his chest feels inexplicably heavy. His long legs carry him past your row, but not before his sharp ears catch the sound of your sweet laugh again. It grates against the knot forming in his chest, pulling tighter with every step.

Jungkook finally drops into a seat two rows behind you, tossing his bag onto the empty seat beside him. He slouches back, his head resting against the cold window. The faint vibrations of the bus barely register as he plugs in his headphones, choosing a random playlist in an effort to drown out his thoughts.

But the music doesn’t help. It doesn’t drown out the sound of your laugh or the way you seemed so at ease with Hoseok. And it certainly doesn’t ease the sting that came with seeing you look at someone else with that kind of attention.

He stares out the window, his reflection faint against the backdrop of the city streets rolling by. He tells himself, whatever he's feeling right now, it’s annoyance, irritation at your loud conversation, frustration at your inability to keep your voice down. But the truth creeps in, unwelcome and undeniable.

It unfortunately isn’t just irritation. It’s something deeper, something he refuses to acknowledge because acknowledging it would mean confronting feelings he’s buried under layers of rivalry and pride.

So he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if that will banish the image of you and Hoseok from his mind. He’ll bury this feeling just like he does everything else, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.

But even as the bus begins to move, carrying everyone towards the retreat, Jungkook’s thoughts stay rooted in the seat two rows ahead of him. And unfortunately, no amount of distraction can change that.

//

The sprawling mountain lodge looms ahead, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the dark green peaks in the distance. You tug your suitcase behind you, the wheels skidding slightly on the cobblestone path leading into the cozy yet grand lobby.

The warm scent of cedarwood and faint spices greets you as you step inside, though it does little to ease the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders.

You sigh, rubbing your neck while Hoseok approaches the reception desk to sort out room assignments. Your gaze roams the space, marveling at the high ceilings adorned with wooden beams and the crackling fire in the massive stone fireplace. A few coworkers are scattered about, chatting in groups or eagerly collecting their keys.

At least everyone gets their own cabin for the retreat, a luxury you hadn’t expected. The thought brings a small sense of relief since you don’t have to worry about sharing space with anyone. You glance at Hoseok, who’s still sorting through paperwork with the receptionist, and shift your weight impatiently.

Suddenly, someone brushes past you, the sharp bump to your shoulder jolting you slightly off balance. You gasp, turning quickly, ready to unleash a tirade, only to freeze when you see who it is.

Jungkook. Of course.

His bag strap hangs loosely off one shoulder, his free hand gripping the handle of his sleek black suitcase. He doesn’t even look at you at first, his gaze fixed ahead, but the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s done. “Watch where you’re going, jerk.” you snap, glaring at him as you adjust your stance.

Finally, he turns to face you, one brow raised in mock amusement. His dark eyes glint mischievously as he takes a step closer, shrinking the space between you. “Me? Watch where I’m going?” he asks, his voice smooth but laced with condescension. “You’re the one standing in the middle of the way, completely zoned out.” he argues.

Your eyes narrow. “Excuse me for existing.” you bite back, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy stomping around like you own the place, you wouldn’t go around slamming into people.” you add.

Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly melodic. “Stomping? Dramatic much?” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel personal. “And for the record, if you can’t handle a little nudge, maybe you should stick to your cozy desk back at the office.” he chuckles.

Your glare sharpens, heat rising to your cheeks. “At least I don’t go out of my way to antagonize people every chance I get.” you retort, your tone matching his for intensity. He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Antagonize? That’s a big word for someone so easily rattled.” he grins.

You’re about to respond, the words teetering on the edge of your tongue, when Hoseok's voice cuts through the tension. “Uh, hey.” he says awkwardly, stepping between the two of you with an uncertain smile as he holds out your keycard. “Here’s your key. Sorry for the wait.” he says.

Jungkook steps back, his smirk faltering slightly as his gaze flickers briefly to Hoseok, then back to you. “Thanks, Hobi.” you say, your voice a little too tight as you grab the keycard from his outstretched hand.

He ignores the little pang in his chest and his smirk returns, adjusting his suitcase with an almost lazy confidence. “Enjoy your cabin, princess.” he quips, his tone laced with sarcasm and just enough smugness to make your blood boil. Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and strides off towards the cabins, his retreating figure exuding infuriating nonchalance.

You glare at his back, gripping your keycard so tightly it threatens to snap. “Ugh, I hate him.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration spilling out in a huff.

Hoseok, who’s been quietly observing the exchange, lets out a soft chuckle. “You sure about that?” he teases lightly, reaching down to grab your suitcase. “He seems to get under your skin pretty easily.” he says.

You narrow your eyes at him but don’t bother responding, knowing Hoseok’s teasing will only get worse if you try to deny it. Instead, you let out a long sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the warm, inviting surroundings of the lodge instead of Jungkook’s maddening smirk.

//

The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the mountain lodge bathed in a soft, dusky glow. The campfire in the center of the lawn crackles gently, sending sparks into the chilly night air.

Since it's the first night of the retreat, everyone is gathered around, wrapped in cozy sweaters and thick blankets, their laughter and conversation blending with the soothing sounds of the wilderness as they all try to free the tiredness from the journey.

You hug yourself tightly, relishing the warmth of your oversized sweater as you make your way towards the group. The flickering firelight dances across familiar faces, and your eyes briefly catch on Jungkook, seated off to the side, his attention fixed on his phone. His sharp profile is illuminated by the glow of the screen, but you quickly brush your gaze away, deciding to ignore him entirely.

Your eyes land on Hoseok, who waves you over with an easy smile and you instantly slip into the seat beside him. “Hey.” he greets warmly, his voice soft but welcoming over the crackle of the fire.

You smile back as you settle into the chair, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “The bathrooms here are insane.” you say, your tone full of genuine awe. “I had the best shower ever. It felt like I was in a spa.”

Hoseok's smile never falters, as the two of slip into an easy conversation. His warm laughter and encouraging nods draw you in, and eventually, the campfire becomes a hub of chatter as everyone around takes turns to share random stories.

The crackling of the fire accompanies the easy flow of conversation, casting a cozy glow that makes the group feel like an extended family.

Suho begins, leaning forward with excitement as he recounts how he met his girlfriend at a concert. "I swear, it was like fate." he breathes out, grinning. "I dropped my ticket, and she picked it up. I thought I’d just thank her, but then we ended up talking the entire show." His story gets a round of amused chuckles and giggles.

Mr. Park dives into tales about his grandchildren. "These kids..." he says, shaking his head fondly. "They're way too smart for their own good. Last week, my grandson hacked into my phone to change my ringtone to a dog barking.... at the grocery store." The image sends everyone into peals of laughter.

Ryunjin jumps in next, sharing her cat’s latest antics. "He’s obsessed with his tail." she says, gesturing wildly. "But the problem is, every time he catches it, he gets mad, like he’s offended it’s attached to his body." Her exaggerated impressions of her cat has everyone laughing until their sides hurt.

As people continue talking, from his spot on the other side of the fire, Jungkook sits quietly. He barely pays attention to what his coworkers are saying because his gaze keeps flickering to you and Hoseok. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, the way you lean towards Hoseok to whisper something into his ear.

The sight twists something uncomfortably tight in Jungkook’s chest, though he stubbornly pushes the feeling aside. Why do I even care? he thinks, his jaw clenching slightly as he forces his attention back to whatever some random coworker is saying.

Yet, no matter how much he tells himself to look away, his eyes betray him. They keep drifting back to you, catching every smile, every laugh, every shared glance with Hoseok. A faint scowl forms on his face, though he tries to mask it.

As the night wears on, it's your turn to narrate a story as you explain a random incident about a hike you went on, way back in high school. "We were climbing this trail that was way steeper than the brochure let on." you say, gesturing animatedly. "And then my friend thought it’d be a great idea to race to the top. Long story short, we all ended up face-planting in the dirt halfway up."

The group laughs, but before you can continue, Mrs. Lee interjects, her voice cutting through the firelit circle like clockwork. “Y/N, dear...” she says with a conspiratorial grin. “All this talk about hikes makes me wonder… are you planning on taking someone special on one anytime soon?” she wiggles her eyebrows.

You freeze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Hoseok stifles a chuckle beside you, leaning closer. “Here we go again.” he whispers.

Everyone’s attention turns to you, their curious eyes waiting for your response. You hate being the center of attention in conversations like this, but you manage to muster a polite smile. “I think I’ll be hiking solo for a while, Mrs. Lee.” you reply lightly, hoping to deflect her matchmaking attempts.

But before the conversation can move on, Minhyuk, a coworker from another team... notorious for his unwelcome advances and unwanted flirtatious attempts to pursue you, jumps in.

“Why solo when I’m right here?” he says, his grin annoyingly smug as he leans forward on his seat. “Y/N, you don’t need blind dates or solo adventures when you’ve got someone like me.” he smirks.

The group chuckles, though the reactions are a mix of genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. You glance at him, trying to suppress an eye-roll. “Thanks, Minhyuk.” you say, your voice tinged with forced politeness. “But I think I’m good.”

Hoseok smirks beside you. “Wow, that’s… subtle.” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. The tension starts to build, the awkwardness settling in like an unwanted guest, but before anyone else can say anything, another voice cuts through the conversation, deep and commanding.

“She doesn’t need you, Minhyuk.” Jungkook suddenly says from across the fire. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes everyone sit up a little straighter. His gaze locks on Minhyuk, his expression unreadable. “Y/N’s already dating someone.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Heads swivel towards Jungkook, then towards you, expressions ranging from amused to utterly shocked. You blink at him, your brain scrambling to process what he just said. You’re dating someone? And you didn’t even know?

A mix of confusion and frustration floods your thoughts as you watch Jungkook from your seat, utterly bewildered. What the hell is he trying to pull?

Mrs. Lee, of course, is the first to recover. She clasps her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh, my! Y/N, is this... is this true? So you won’t be hiking solo after all?” she teases, her tone light, but the curiosity in her gaze is anything but subtle.

Her words snap you out of your daze, and your first instinct is to deny it, to clear up the misunderstanding before things spiral even further. But as your lips part, Jungkook speaks again, his voice calm and steady.

“That’s right.” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. “She’s all set. No blind dates, no solo hikes. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whip your head towards him, your confusion now tinged with annoyance. His expression is maddeningly composed, as if this is all part of some elaborate plan you’re not privy to. He meets your gaze, and for a fleeting second, you catch a glimmer of something... something almost possessive, before it disappears behind his confident facade.

Hoseok shifts beside you, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well...” he says under his breath. “This just got interesting.”

You glare at him briefly before turning back to Jungkook, your brain working overtime to decide whether to play along or call him out. All around you, the group buzzes with low murmurs and playful remarks, the campfire’s warm glow doing little to soothe the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.

"Who's the lucky guy?" Suho laughs, his tone light, as a few others nod eagerly, their curiosity piqued. All eyes are on you now, and you’re suddenly aware of how small your seat feels in the circle. You open your mouth to speak, to deny the entire thing and set the record straight, but Jungkook beats you to it. Again.

“I really didn’t expect the news to come out like this.” he says smoothly, his voice calm but carrying just enough emotion to sound sincere. His gaze sweeps over the group before landing back on you. “But we’ve been keeping it quiet for a while now.”

The reaction is immediate. A collective murmur ripples through the circle, voices tinged with shock and curiosity. Some are louder than others, people audibly gasping unable to hide the utter shock of this unexpected news.

You blink rapidly, your brain doing cartwheels trying to keep up with what’s happening. Quiet for a while? What is he even talking about? Your confusion turns to frustration, and you turn to Jungkook, but he’s already leaning back in his seat, wearing an expression so convincingly nonchalant that it makes your blood boil.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Minhyuk’s voice cuts through the murmurs, his tone laced with disbelief and annoyance. “Are you telling me Y/N’s been dating you this whole time?” He gestures vaguely towards Jungkook, his irritation barely concealed.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jungkook replies, his voice steady and unbothered, as though the entire conversation is beneath him. He leans back casually, his hand resting on the arm of his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that sound so surprising?”

The group collectively reacts, their wide-eyed expressions bouncing between disbelief and shock. And honestly? Fair, because who would believe it. The only form of interaction anyone’s ever witnessed between the two of you has been laced with sharp rivalry, sarcastic comments and deathly glares.

“The joke’s on us.” Mr. Cho interjects suddenly, his tone tinged with playful regret. “We’re the idiots for thinking they hated each other. All this time, these two lovebirds were up to something totally different.” he says as everyone agrees with him.

Your lips part, indignation rushing to the surface as you shake your head. “It’s not what it looks—”

“We just didn’t want to get caught.” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, completely ignoring your protest. His tone is measured, almost too casual, as if he’s rehearsed this. He glances at the group, offering a shrug. “It would’ve made things awkward, you know?”

To your complete and utter disbelief, the crowd buys it. They actually believe the crap he's saying. Heads nod in understanding, murmurs of agreement ripple around the fire. It’s the most ridiculous explanation you’ve ever heard, and yet they’re accepting it like it's the most normal thing ever.

Your scowl deepens as you glare at Jungkook, who doesn’t so much as glance your way. Instead, he’s perfectly composed, acting like this is all just another day in his life. Meanwhile, you’re left fuming, the crowd’s reactions only stoking your frustration.

“If everyone will excuse me... I need to have a word with my... boyfriend.” you finally manage to say, your voice laced with barely concealed irritation. The last word comes out sharper than you intend, carrying just enough edge to earn a chorus of hoots and teasing laughter from the group.

“Ohhh, someone’s in trouble!” Suho calls, while Mrs. Lee clasps her hands over her heart as if this is the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. You can feel the amused gazes burning into your back, but you refuse to look at anyone.

The crowd’s reactions only fuel your annoyance. You rise from your chair, your movements brisk. Jungkook barely has time to react as you stride over to him. Before he can say a single word, you grab his arm and tug him out of his chair with more force than necessary.

Without sparing him a glance, you drag him away from the fire, ignoring the whistles and giggles echoing behind you. Someone, probably Ryunjin, makes a half-joking comment about you two sneaking off to "make up" or something equally ridiculous, but you’re too annoyed to care.

The moment you’re far enough from the group, heading towards the cabins, you whirl around to face Jungkook, still gripping his arm. “What the hell was that?” you shriek, your voice seething with anger. "WE are dating? Really?"

Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers gently prying your hands from his arm. “Relax, princess.” he says, his voice calm yet dripping with smugness. “I only said that to help you out.”

“Help me out?” you echo, stepping back dramatically with your arms crossed, your face twisting into mock surprise. “Wow, Jungkook, what a saint. Should I start kissing the ground you walk on now, or later?”

He smirks, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “That ass Minhyuk was clearly making you uncomfortable. I figured I’d step in before he turned the bonfire into his personal Y/N fan club.” he shrugs.

You open your mouth to retort but pause, your brows furrowing slightly. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong about Minhyuk being a creep, but still you let out an exasperated groan, your arms flailing. “Oh, please. I could’ve handled him just fine without your big rescue act.”

“Right.” he drawls, leaning lazily against the cabin wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Because your plan of glaring daggers at him and clenching your fists was totally working. I mean, nothing screams ‘back off’ like the homicidal vibe you were giving off.”

You glare at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what makes you think I couldn’t have handled it? I literally told him I was good and that I didn't need him.”

“Oh, you did.” he agrees, a playful spark in his eyes. “But then you’d have Mrs. Lee trying to ‘mediate’ or whatever by trying to set you up on another one of her infamous blind dates. Admit it, I just saved you from weeks of awkwardness.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by how easily he brought Mrs. Lee into this. “Wait, so this whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing was just to dodge her matchmaking?” you question. “Well, partly.” he shrugs, tilting his head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Figured you’d rather deal with me than spend another evening making small talk with some random accountant she thinks is your ‘perfect match.’ You’re welcome.” he grins.

You let out a scoff, crossing your arms again. “Oh, I see. So now you’re my knight in shining armor?” you arch a brow at him. “Finally, you get it.” His smirk grows.

“Shut up.” you snap, unable to stop the look of irritation on your face. “And for the record, I’d much rather deal with Mrs. Lee than this.” you add, gesturing the space between you.

“Really?” His voice takes on a teasing tone, and he steps closer, his gaze locking with yours. You try to ignore the way your heart is hammering in your chest and continue glaring into his eyes. “Then why are you so rattled, huh? Afraid you’ll actually fall for me or something?” he narrows his eyes, his smirk only growing.

You scoff, heat rising to your cheeks, but you refuse to let him see you falter. “Fall for you? In your dreams.” you bite back. “Ouch.” he says, clutching his chest dramatically like you’ve shot an arrow straight through his heart. “And here I thought you’d be grateful. This is how you repay me?”

“Grateful?” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Jungkook, I don’t think you understand. You just lied to everyone we know and made it sound like we’re madly in love or something.”

“Well…” His grin widens, that playful glint in his eyes sparking something unwelcome in your chest. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”

Your jaw drops, and you glare at him, incredulous. “Fuck, there's nothing like you... you are literally unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably charming.” he quips without missing a beat, his smirk downright infuriating now. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He nods as if he’s doing you a massive favor. “Fake boyfriend?” you echo, your voice an octave higher as your frustration bubbles over.

“Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand the gravity of the situation here? Everyone’s going to expect us to get along now. They’re going to expect us to act like a real couple. And with the way we are, they’ll figure out this isn’t real before this trip is even over. Do you realize how humiliating that will be?”

You wave your hands around animatedly as you ramble, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. Jungkook watches you with a maddeningly calm expression, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the show.

He chuckles again, that infuriatingly relaxed sound that makes you want to pull your hair out. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s not that bad. You get to hang out with me, look like the perfect couple, and keep Mrs. Lee and Minhyuk off your back. Sounds like a solid win for you.” he says with that signature cocky grin.

You scoff. "This is ridiculou—"

“And yet...” he interrupts smoothly. “You didn't deny it out there... in front of everyone. Makes me wonder if there’s a tiny part of you that doesn’t mind the idea.”

You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. The sheer audacity of his statement has stolen your breath. He leans in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See?” he murmurs, his voice soft but teasing. “Speechless. I must be onto something.”

You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself. “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. You're responsible for this mess, so you deal with it.” you mutter, taking a deep breath to try and calm the storm brewing inside you. “I just want to enjoy this whole retreat in peace.”

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening just a fraction before he shrugs, as if this entire exchange is just a game. “Fine, fine. Peace it is. But you know...” he adds, his voice teasing but with a hint of something genuine, “It wouldn't hurt to enjoy it a little more with me. You know, since I’m your fake boyfriend and all.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words send an unexpected flutter through you. “Don’t push it, Jeon.” you mutter, though the corner of your mouth twitches slightly, betraying the tiniest bit of amusement. You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from this conversation.

“Alright, alright.” he relents with a dramatic sigh, from behind you. “But remember, when you find yourself accidentally falling for me, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he quips, quickly walking past you. You grumble to yourself as you watch him walk away, approaching the lawn where everyone's seated.

You have no idea what this retreat has in store for you, especially after the insane turn of events on just the first night. Jungkook, of all people, is supposed to be your fake boyfriend in the prying eyes of your coworkers. You're still processing the fact that you’re stuck with this ridiculous situation, and you have no idea how you're going to pull it off.

But, as much as you hate to admit it, there's a tiny part of you that feels... surprisingly... grateful. Grateful that, for once, you don’t have to deal with creeps like Minhyuk or relentless matchmakers like Mrs. Lee.

Sure, dealing with Jungkook might be a headache, but at least he's got this whole "fake boyfriend" thing down, and for the moment, he’s temporarily keeping the pressure off you. You can't help but feel a little bit of relief knowing you won’t have to dodge constant questions about your non-existent love life this entire trip.

And something about this new dynamic, has you questioning everything between the two of you.

//

Finally, the retreat kicks off the next morning, and the first activity is an early morning hike. The air is crisp and the excitement buzzes in the atmosphere. To make things more interesting, everyone's decided to pair up and whichever team is the first to reach the top, wins a medal and a small trophy.

As you stand at the base, fidgeting with your water bottle, you can’t help but wonder what kind of chaos this day might bring, especially considering the mess you’ve gotten yourself into with Jungkook.

You’re eagerly waiting for Hoseok to arrive, fully prepared to be his hiking partner, when suddenly you hear a voice behind you.

"Waiting for me?" Jungkook’s voice is laced with that familiar smugness, and when you turn, you see him leaning casually against a tree near you, his arms crossed. His signature smirk is in place, as if he knows something you don’t.

You roll your eyes, already feeling the irritation creeping in. "Please, I’m waiting for Hobi." you reply dismissively, trying to avoid his gaze.

Jungkook's heart twists at your words, but he hides it behind a playful mask. "Wouldn't it be weird if you're pairing up with someone other than your... boyfriend?" he says, his voice lowering slightly as he leans in closer. His words hang in the air, and you feel a strange hesitation ripple through you.

You freeze for a moment, realizing the truth in his statement. It would be weird especially considering, the weird situation he had put the both of you in last night.

After yesterday, the idea of pairing up with anyone else, especially with the whole team now thinking you and Jungkook are some love-struck couple, would look suspicious. And if you really want to make this whole fake boyfriend thing work, you’re going to have to keep up the act... at least for the sake of saving face.

Your mind races, weighing your options, but when you glance over at the others, you see the curious glances, the whispers starting to form, and you know you can’t back out now. With a reluctant sigh, you turn back to Jungkook.

"Fine." you say, rolling your eyes for effect, though a small part of you is resigned. "But don't get any weird ideas. This is just for the hike."

Jungkook’s grin widens, and his eyes gleam with that mischievous glint. "Of course, princess. No weird ideas." he teases, but the way he looks at you suggests there’s more to this than just the hike.

As you both walk towards the trail, the weight of the situation hits you. This is it, you're officially stuck with him for the duration of this retreat, whether you like it or not. But as you glance at Jungkook, his confident strides beside you, you realize there might be more to this pairing than just avoiding humiliation.

You quickly shake off any lingering thoughts and turn your focus to the hike ahead. The trail is steep, rocky, and not exactly beginner-friendly, but you’re determined to stay ahead of the pack. Each step is carefully calculated, your legs pushing through the exhaustion as you navigate the uneven terrain.

Jungkook, walking beside you, watches with an almost bemused expression. He notices the fierce concentration on your face, the way your brows furrow ever so slightly as you push yourself harder with each step. You’re not one to give up easily, and it’s kind of impressive.

"You really are something, huh?" he teases, his voice cutting through the wind. "Who knew you'd be so competitive." he asks, like he already doesn't know that about you, considering the heavy competition that always takes place between the two of you back at the office.

You glance at him, rolling your eyes. "I’m not competitive." you huff, focusing on your footing. "I just don’t want to lose, especially to people who think they can beat us."

Jungkook chuckles, but his eyes are still focused on you. “Uh-huh. Sure.” His tone is playful, but there's something a little softer in his gaze as he watches you stride forward, determined and focused.

With each step, your legs begin to burn, but you push through it. The air grows thinner as you make your way up the mountain, and soon, you notice that you and Jungkook have managed to pull ahead of the rest of the group. At some point, it’s just the two of you... no one else even in sight. You can’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride.

Jungkook, though, seems to be taking it all in stride, effortlessly keeping pace with you. “Looks like we’re in the lead.” he says with a grin, clearly enjoying the challenge.

Just as you’re about to reply, the trail gets more rugged. The rocks beneath your feet become looser, the path steeper, and suddenly, you lose your balance. Before you can even react, Jungkook reaches out, steadying you by grabbing your hand.

“Easy there, princess.” he teases, his fingers curling around yours with a casual yet firm grip, as though it’s second nature to him.

You try to ignore the warmth of his hand against yours, but the sensation lingers, a pulse of heat running up your arm. His hand fits perfectly with yours, and for a second, you forget about everything... about the hike, the competition, even the ridiculousness of the situation.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression is focused on the path ahead, but there’s a subtle glint in his eyes, something mischievous. He knows how much his touch is affecting you, and you know he’s enjoying it a little too much.

You’re so distracted by everything... his touch, the heat flooding your chest, the odd fluttering in your stomach... that you don’t even see the giant twig lying across the trail until it’s too late. One moment you’re walking, and the next, your foot catches it, sending you sprawling forward. You yelp as your knee slams into the rough ground, the pain sharp and immediate.

Jungkook is quick to react, his hand shooting out to steady you before you can fall further. “Shit!” he exclaims, his voice full of concern. He crouches beside you as you wince, glancing at your scraped knee. Blood begins to seep from the wound, the large scratch standing out against your skin, especially since you’re wearing a pair of biker shorts.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice more worried than you expected. He quickly helps you sit on a nearby rock, crouching in front of you. His eyes flicker to your knee, concern creasing his brows as he inspects the wound. “This is bad.” he murmurs, his tone low as he gently touches your calf to get a better look at the injury.

You feel the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and despite the pain in your knee, something inside you jolts at the tenderness of his touch. Your heart skips a beat, and you have to force yourself to look away.

His fingers are still holding your leg, and the proximity of his body makes everything seem so much more intense than it should be. The sensation of his hand on your calf feels too intimate, too personal, and it makes your pulse race in a way that leaves you breathless.

You shift uncomfortably, trying to pull your leg back a little, though it’s hard to concentrate with him so close. “I’m fine.” you try to brush him off, your voice almost shaky as you speak. “It’s just a scratch.”

He doesn’t seem convinced. His eyes remain fixed on the cut, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs and looks up at you. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet seriousness. “Because that looks pretty nasty to me.”

You shift again, trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your skin. “I said I’m fine.” you insist, though your voice lacks the usual conviction. The warmth of his hand on your leg is making it hard to focus on anything else.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether to argue or just let it go. Finally, he pulls his hand away, and you breathe a little easier, though the air between you still feels weird.

Jungkook stands up straight, his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer than necessary. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and a tension that neither of you seem to know how to break. He looks down at your knee again, his eyes softening with concern, but he doesn’t say anything.

He somehow hates seeing you hurt, and something about it bothers him more than he’d like to admit. But he doesn’t know how to express that without sounding too… weird. So, he stays silent, unsure of how to bridge the gap between his thoughts and actions.

You shift uncomfortably, feeling his eyes on you. Your own gaze flickers between him and the ground, avoiding his stare, unsure of what to say next. You both seem so caught in this strange limbo that the sudden sound of footsteps snapping you both out of your trance is almost a relief.

You both turn at the same time, just in time to see Ryunjin and Suho dart past you, laughing and shouting with reckless energy. "Later, losers!" they yell, their voices teasing as they zoom past, not even sparing a glance at you or Jungkook.

Before either of you can react, they’re already a good distance ahead, their teasing echoes fading into the distance. The moment feels absurd, and yet somehow, it breaks the tension that had been hanging between you and Jungkook. You both stay there for a second, staring after the rapidly disappearing pair, trying to process what just happened.

Jungkook lets out a dry laugh, breaking the quiet. “Well, that was... something.” he says. You can't help but chuckle too, the absurdity of it all making you shake your head. "Yeah, something." you reply, your voice light despite the situation.

Jungkook glances at you, a small, almost self-conscious grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Guess we better catch up, huh? Wouldn’t want to lose to them."

Without missing a beat, you push yourself to your feet, ignoring the burning sensation in your knee as if it’s nothing. The adrenaline of the competition quickly wipes away any lingering pain. You’re determined now, not just to make it to the top, but to beat Ryunjin and Suho.

You and Jungkook exchange a brief look, and without saying another word, you both grab each other’s hands and break into a run. The path ahead is rocky, but you’re not paying attention to anything other than the prize... victory. The cold mountain air fills your lungs as your feet pound against the uneven ground, each step propelling you forward.

Jungkook keeps his pace beside you, the sound of his breath in sync with yours as you both push yourselves harder. He offers a teasing grin now and then, his usual cocky demeanor back in full force, but you know he’s just as focused as you are on overtaking the pair ahead.

The climb becomes more intense, the sharp incline testing your endurance, but your legs keep moving. You’re so close to the top now, your eyes on Suho and Ryunjin, who are just a few feet ahead. Your heart races, not just from the physical exertion, but from the competitive energy that’s coursing between you and Jungkook.

For a split second, you almost think you’re going to overtake them. You push yourself harder, your hand gripping Jungkook’s tighter, your determination burning stronger than ever. But just as you reach the final stretch, you see Suho and Ryunjin cross the summit.

“No way !!” you groan, stopping just short of the top. Jungkook slows down next to you, panting, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the victorious pair. “They beat us just by a few seconds.” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. But as he turns to look at you, the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Close, though. We almost had them.” he says.

You stand there for a moment, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and then glance at him. “Yeah, well. Almost doesn’t count, does it?” you tease, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jungkook’s lips twitch upward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something you can’t quite place. “Guess not.” he replies, but then his gaze softens, just a touch. “But we’ll definitely get them next time.”

The way he says next time... with such ease, almost like a promise, sends a strange feeling through you. It doesn’t sound like just another competition or a simple throwaway line. No, it’s more like a subtle invitation, an unspoken acknowledgment that this could be something to look forward to.

It’s not just the words themselves, but the way he says it, like there will be another chance for the two of you, paired together again, side by side. Like it’s not a one time thing, but the beginning of something that feels more… natural.

You swallow the sudden flutter in your chest, trying to focus on something else... something to push away the warmth spreading in your cheeks. It’s just a hike, just a little competition, you tell yourself, but the thought lingers.

Maybe it’s the rush of the moment, the adrenaline, or maybe it’s something about the way Jungkook looks at you now. Whatever it is, you can’t quite shake the feeling that next time won’t just be about winning.

“Yeah, next time.” you echo, your voice softer now, as if you’re both saying more than just the words.

//

Hoseok lounges casually on your bed, his head propped up on one arm as he watches you through the mirror as you do your skin care. "Guess you had fun on that hike, huh?" he says, a teasing glint in his eyes as he observes your focused movements.

You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond immediately. The sheet mask on your face makes it difficult to show any expression, but you can't hide the subtle irritation bubbling under the surface. Hoseok, ever the observant one, takes note of your silence and grins to himself, enjoying your discomfort in a way only he could.

“But actually though, how long are you two planning on keeping up this whole fake relationship thing?” he asks, with a casual tilt of his head. His voice is playful, but there's an undertone of genuine curiosity, as if he's waiting for some kind of confession.

You pause, your fingers freezing on the edges of the mask as his words sink in. The question lingers in the air, heavier than it first appeared. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. "I honestly don't know." you admit, the frustration evident in your tone. "This whole thing... it’s just such a ridiculous situation to be in. I didn’t even sign up for this, Hobi."

Your shoulders slump slightly as you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of the words you’ve just said. There’s no denying the absurdity of the situation, but even more unsettling is how easily you’ve been feeling ever since that hike got over.

"Honestly..." Hoseok starts, his voice tapering off, a hint of hesitance in his tone. "I just think... he might like you." he says. You snap your head towards him so fast that he bursts into laughter, pointing at your face. "Oh my god, the look! And with that sheet mask? Iconic." He doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Please." You wave him off, narrowing your eyes even as you feel your cheeks heat beneath the mask. "That can’t be true." you deny, shaking your head, though his words settle in your chest like a pebble dropped into water, rippling outwards.

Hoseok leans forward, his laughter fading into a soft, knowing smile. “Think about it, Y/N.” He swings his legs off the bed and sits up straighter, his expression suddenly more serious. "Why would he randomly step in to ‘save’ you from Minhyuk and Mrs. Lee when none of it has anything to do with him? What’s he getting out of this whole... fake relationship?"

You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. His words sit heavy in the room, pressing against thoughts you’ve tried to avoid all day. Hoseok watches you intently, sensing your hesitation but giving you the space to think.

“I mean, according to me...” he continues, his voice steady but gentle. “The only thing he’s gaining... is your company. The opportunity to be around you, to talk to you, to..." He hesitates for a beat, then finishes with a meaningful look. "To get closer to you."

His words hang in the air, a truth you’re not sure you’re ready to face. Your fingers hover over your mask as you stare back at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and the slow, creeping realization that maybe... just maybe, he’s right.

//

Jungkook slips out of the shower, the warmth of the water still clinging to his skin as he slides into a pair of comfortable pajamas. The exhaustion of the long day settles in, and he collapses onto the bed with a soft sigh.

The cabin feels quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and as he stares up at the ceiling, his eyes blink slowly, each blink heavier than the last.

His thoughts begin to wander, as they often do, drifting towards you. He isn’t sure why, but lately, you seem to occupy a bigger space in his mind than he’d like to admit. He wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into. The whole fake relationship thing, the way it all started... none of it makes sense to him.

But then he remembers the moment it all fell into place. The ridiculousness of it. The heat rising in him when he saw Minhyuk talking to you that way, too comfortable in his space, too persistent with his flirtations.

He didn’t plan to say anything in front of everyone, but something about the whole interaction made him snap. He blurted out the claim about you two dating, and even now, he’s not sure where it came from. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it probably wasn’t just about Minhyuk.

He thinks about the hike today. The way you worked together, the coordination, the unspoken understanding between you both as you made your way up the mountain. The way his stomach churned at the sight of you hurt. The way your hands brushed, then clasped. How your palm felt against his, soft and warm, so natural.

He tries to shake the memory, but it lingers, like the lingering heat of the sun on his skin after a long day. He had to act like it didn’t faze him, like the moment didn’t make his heart race a little faster, but in reality, it was the opposite. His whole body had reacted to the touch, to the proximity.

He lets out a soft groan and rolls over, burying his face in the pillow, willing the thoughts to go away. It’s just a fake relationship, right? So why does it feel like there’s so much more to it than that?

//

The second day of the retreat arrives with a buzz of excitement, and as everyone gathers in the main hall, Mr. Cho announces the day's event which is supposed to be a Photo Scavenger Hunt. It's another pair activity, and you know exactly who your partner will be. Refusing to team up with your fake boyfriend, Jungkook, would raise too many suspicions and be undeniably awkward.

Pairs are handed a checklist of photo prompts, each designed to challenge creativity and, more importantly, sell the illusion of a couple deeply in love. Age, gender, or real dynamics don’t matter, the goal is clear... convince the world you’re head over heels.

Jungkook snatches the prompt list before you can, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement.

“This is going to be so fun.” he declares, scanning the list. You fold your arms, a skeptical frown settling on your face. “I hate taking pictures.” you admit. “And we have to look like a couple deeply in love? How the hell are we supposed to pull that off?”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a baby about it. Let’s show these amateurs what a real couple looks like.” The irony of his statement doesn’t escape you. Pretending to be a real couple while knowing everything between your current dynamic is fake feels like some cosmic joke. It tugs at your heart in a way you don’t want to analyze.

Instead, you shift your focus to the task at hand as Jungkook reads the first prompt aloud. “Take a photo of something adventurous.” he announces, his excitement palpable.

The prompt leads you both to the resort’s outdoor obstacle course, where a rope bridge sways precariously over a shallow creek. “This looks adventurous enough.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the bridge. You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re joking, right? There's no way... I’m setting foot on that thing.” you say shaking your head.

He steps onto the first plank, the bridge creaking under his weight. Turning to you, he extends a hand, his confidence unwavering. “Just trust me.” he grins. You hesitate, glancing at his outstretched hand. Something about the steady way he looks at you makes your heart skip. Against your better judgment, you take his hand and step onto the bridge.

The journey across is a chaotic mix of laughter and shrieks as the bridge sways with every movement. You’re freaking the hell out, but somehow, Jungkook’s firm grip on your hand keeps you grounded. His teasing comments, however, do nothing to help calm your nerves.

Suddenly, the bridge sways a little too much, and you yelp in panic, instinctively inching closer to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, holding on for dear life. You close your eyes, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

“Relax!!!” Jungkook laughs, his voice laced with amusement, finding your current state of distress incredibly adorable. “You’re holding onto me like I’m the bridge.”

You bury your face in his chest, the heat of his body overwhelming, and you feel your heart racing in your chest. His laugh sends a jolt through you, but you manage to focus on the safety of his embrace. “Because I don’t trust this death trap!” you snap back, clinging tighter to him. “Don’t you dare let go.”

“Chill, I got you.” he reassures you, but his voice is teasing. “You’re literally holding me. I can’t let go even if I wanted to.” The way his words send a thrill through you catches you off guard, but you can't focus on that now, you're too busy gripping him like a lifeline.

He laughs again, and you feel his arms shift slightly as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Are you seriously taking a picture now?” you ask incredulously. “Gotta capture the terror on your face.” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, you’re hugging me. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”

Before you can reply, he angles his phone to fit both of you in the frame, holding it out with a cocky smile before clicking the picture.

As you still tightly clutch onto him, you peek at the phone as he lowers it. You burst into laughter when you see the picture, a chaotic snapshot of your panicked face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, eyes wide in shock, but with a hint of a smile hidden in the corners. It’s a mess, but somehow cute. “See?” he says with a playful grin. “Adventurous and adorable.”

You and Jungkook continue breezing through prompt after prompt, and to your surprise, you're both working together seamlessly. The tension from earlier has melted away, replaced by an ease you didn't expect.

His teasing jokes, the way he makes goofy comments behind the camera before snapping a picture... it’s all so endearing. And every time he makes you laugh, you feel those familiar butterflies flutter in your chest, something light and genuine that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time.

As you pose for yet another shot, your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to disappear. You're not acting for a game anymore, not pretending for a prize. There's a softness between you now, a connection you hadn't realized you craved until you found it. You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that’s completely unguarded, and Jungkook can't help but watch you with a smile that matches your own.

He is somehow completely captivated by this version of you, the one without the sarcastic remarks, the biting humor, and the walls you usually keep up. The way you smile for the pictures, the way you compose yourself with such grace, it’s just too cute. The soft glow in your eyes when you’re not worried about anything, not keeping your distance, is something he’s never seen before. It feels so natural, so easy, and he loves it.

With every click of his camera, Jungkook is slowly realizing how much he enjoys seeing you like this... so at ease, so carefree. Even though the situation started as a fake relationship, he's surprised to find that it feels more real than he ever imagined. It feels... perfect.

There's no tension, no need for the sarcastic quips or the emotional distance you usually keep between you. Instead, it's just easy. He can simply be with you, in this moment, without any pretense. And the more he enjoys this connection, the more he wonders how long he can keep pretending that it isn’t something more.

For a brief moment, as he adjusts the camera, he catches you looking at him... a soft, knowing smile playing on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his confidence falters. He quickly shakes off the feeling, focusing on the next shot, but the lingering warmth in his chest doesn’t go away. It’s there, quietly growing, and for a second, he wonders if maybe you can feel it too.

Soon enough, you reach the last prompt on the list. "Capture your partner with something beautiful." You read it aloud, and Jungkook's eyes light up like he’s found the perfect solution. He grabs your wrist, pulling you along with him, a determined glint in his eyes. “Follow me.” he says.

Without fully understanding where he’s leading you, you let him tug you along, and before long, you find yourself in the resort’s rose garden. You pause, taking in the breathtaking sight before you.

The garden is sprawling and lush, with rows of perfectly manicured bushes, each adorned with an array of vibrant roses in every imaginable colur… pale pinks, deep reds, and the most delicate whites.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and butterflies flit from one blossom to the next, completing the serene picture. The sun casts a warm golden light, dappling the garden with soft shadows, making the whole place look like something out of a dream.

Jungkook releases your wrist, stepping back to admire you as you take in the surroundings. “How did you even find this place?” you ask, amused, turning to him with raised eyebrows.

He grins, clearly proud of himself. “I was just exploring early this morning.” he admits, brushing a hand through his hair. His gaze softens as he watches you, and it suddenly hits him... for the first time today, he doesn’t need to pose you, doesn’t need to direct you for a shot. Everything here feels perfect just the way it is. You, in this beautiful setting, naturally glowing and lost in the beauty of it all.

Without warning, Jungkook pulls out his phone and takes the first picture. And then another. And another. He’s capturing you... your expression, the way your eyes linger on the flowers, how the soft breeze plays with your hair. Each click feels more like he’s documenting something sacred, something delicate. You’re unaware of it at first, lost in the moment.

But as you turn, you notice him snapping away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your own eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you started clicking pictures!” you say, an involuntary pout forming on your lips.

Jungkook laughs, the sound deep and genuine. "It’s fine." he says, still grinning. "I got the perfect shots."

Your heart skips, your breath catching at the way he looks at you... like you’re the most beautiful thing in this whole garden, and the way his gaze lingers on you makes your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. There's something so intimate in the way he sees you, something that makes you feel simultaneously vulnerable and cherished.

Now that all the prompts are done, you and Jungkook sit together on the lawn, reviewing the photos on his phone. The sun is beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over the entire resort, and the air carries a calmness that makes the moment feel almost too perfect.

There’s a small laugh escaping your lips as you scroll past each photo, surprised at how natural you both look. The ones of you and him are the ones that stand out... your smiles feel real, and the carefree joy captured in each shot makes you wonder if, for a fleeting second, the line between pretending and reality might’ve blurred.

As your thumb scrolls past a particularly silly photo of him pulling a goofy face, your eyes linger on the images of yourself. There’s a softness to them... how your eyes shine, how your lips curve into a smile that isn’t forced. You can’t remember the last time you looked so... content.

Your gaze shifts to Jungkook in the rest of the photos, his relaxed posture, his playful grins, and the way he’s effortlessly good-looking in every frame.

But then, Jungkook stops you from scrolling, his finger gently pausing on one of the photos. Your heart stutters when you realize it’s a picture of you that he had taken in the rose garden, the soft wind lifting your hair, your eyes caught on a pink rose, lost in a moment of thought. T

he colors in the picture are so vivid... the soft pink of the rose, the delicate green leaves, and the way the light plays off the petals.

“This one.” Jungkook says quietly, his voice lower than usual. You glance at him, sensing a change in the air, an unspoken weight that hangs between you both. The way he says it almost sounds like a confession, but you’re unsure what it means.

You turn your attention back to the picture, your fingers unconsciously tightening around the phone as your heart begins to race. The photo seems so simple, yet there’s something undeniably intimate about it.

“This one’s my favorite.” he repeats, his eyes not leaving the screen, but you can feel his gaze shift to you, as if waiting for your reaction. The moment seems to stretch, and you swear the temperature of the air is now different.

You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Uh... why?” you ask. Your voice feels small against the sudden heaviness of the moment, the question awkwardly leaving your lips. Your eyes drift to the picture again, but it’s hard to focus with the flutter in your chest.

Jungkook’s gaze softens, a quiet sincerity filling his eyes that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Because it’s... you.”

His words stay in the air, simple yet weighted, like a confession he hadn’t planned on making. And for the briefest moment, everything else falls away… the photos, the game, the fake relationship.

All you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you, the way he said it, as if it meant something deeper than just the photo. It feels like he’s seen something in you, something you haven’t even fully recognized in yourself.

You’re left speechless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. There’s a warmth spreading in your chest, a feeling that seems to fill every space between you and him, and for the first time, the reality of what’s happening between you two feels undeniable.

//

The third day of the retreat dawns with a calm, unstructured agenda, a welcome contrast to the competitive energy of the past two days. With nothing specific planned, you decide to spend your time with Hoseok, exploring the scenic surroundings and indulging in the retreat’s offerings.

By mid-afternoon, the two of you make your way to the spa for a personal massage. The atmosphere is serene, filled with the soft hum of calming music and the faint aroma of lavender.

As the tension melts away under the skilled hands of the masseuse, your thoughts wander, sifting through the events of the past few days. It’s a rare moment of clarity and introspection, and you allow yourself to simply breathe and reflect.

By the time you’re done, it’s nearly evening. You step out of the spa, still basking in the therapeutic aftereffects. Hoseok is waiting for you outside, leaning casually against a pillar, and his face lights up when he sees you stretching your neck with a satisfied sigh.

“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” he asks with a grin, and you hum in agreement, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Totally. I feel like a whole new person.” you reply, rolling your shoulders and relishing the weightlessness in your muscles.

Hoseok chuckles before his tone shifts slightly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go hang out with Suho and Mr. Cho for a bit if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tinged with a trace of guilt. You shake your head immediately, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Hobi. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just chill near the cabins or take a stroll. Go, have fun!”

His expression softens at your easygoing response. “You sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you later.” you say, giving him a small wave as he turns to leave. As you watch Hoseok walk away, a peculiar sense of contentment settles within you, something you can’t quite place but feel nonetheless. The day has unfolded in a way you didn’t anticipate, leaving you more at peace than you expected.

You make your way back to your cabin, eager to change into something more comfortable. Slipping into a soft, flowing dress that cascades gently against your legs, you find it strikes the perfect balance between relaxation and elegance.

Stepping out of your cabin, ready to roam aimlessly through the quiet grounds, you suddenly catch sight of Jungkook approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.

"Well, hello there, girlfriend." he teases, his voice laced with playful sarcasm as a mischievous wink follows. With measured confidence, he closes the distance between you, his smirk never faltering, leaving you to wonder if there's more behind his words than the usual banter.

You feel an involuntary tug at the corners of your mouth, but you quickly mask it by rolling your eyes. "Jeon." you greet him flatly as you close the door behind you. “You look lonely.” Jungkook teases, his tone soft.

You open your mouth to retort, but he beats you to it. “Wanna go for a walk?” His words come out almost too casually, but there’s a spark in his eyes, an invitation you can’t quite ignore.

As you glance around at your coworkers scattered about near by, you realize that declining might raise more suspicion than agreeing. It’s a harmless walk, nothing more, nothing less. And, perhaps you tell yourself, it could make the whole fake relationship thing a little more believable.

But a part of you thinks all these reasonings are just yet another reason to cover up what you're actually feeling. You hesitate for only a moment, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “Sure.” you answer.

The surprise in Jungkook’s eyes is fleeting, but it’s there... his brows lifting slightly at your unexpected compliance. He quickly masks it with a grin, but there’s something unspoken between you now, a shift in the air that neither of you acknowledges aloud. Without another word, he gestures for you to follow, and you do, your steps in sync as you head out into the cool evening.

As you walk side by side, the air between you feels strangely light, almost serene. Jungkook exhales softly, his voice breaking the silence as if testing the waters. "So, how was your day?" he asks, his tone gentle but curious.

"Good." you respond with a simple, soft smile, but you find yourself wanting to offer more, to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I got a massage at the spa. It was incredible." you add, your smile deepening as the memory lingers. The soothing sensation still radiates from your body, and the thought of it gives you a sense of peace.

Jungkook nods, taking in your words with quiet interest. His gaze briefly shifts to you, and something flickers in his eyes. The evening sun bathes your face in a warm, golden light, the soft rays catching in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly in the breeze.

For a second, Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his thoughts scattered as a sudden, fleeting realization tugs at him. Have you always been this beautiful? But he quickly suppresses it, trying to act unaffected.

"I played badminton with a few of the guys." he says instead, his voice now carrying a touch of nonchalance, as if dismissing the fleeting moment. He averts his gaze, not quite able to look you in the eye for too long, especially when you're looking so breathtaking.

You hum softly, your attention still lingering on his words, though a small part of your mind is distracted by the strange tension that's begun to build. It’s a new, unfamiliar feeling... this conversation with him, so unexpectedly civil, so effortlessly simple, without the usual sharp edges that have always defined your interactions. It feels almost too easy.

As you walk beside him, your knuckles brush against his ever so lightly, a momentary touch that sends a ripple of electricity up your arm. You pause, your thoughts suddenly a jumble. Should I pull my hand away? you wonder. Should I cross my arms, keep a distance?

But before you can decide, Jungkook's hand finds yours. His fingers slip between yours with an ease that catches you off guard, as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times before.

For a split second, everything around you blurs, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you freeze. The warmth of his touch spreads through you like wildfire, an overwhelming wave of sensations that makes your pulse quicken.

Somehow, this is a million times more different compared to yesterday or the day before. You glance at him, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and something else you can't quite place.

But before you can even open your mouth to question him, Jungkook glances down at your joined hands, his voice a hushed murmur. "Mr. Park and Minhyuk are looking." he says, his words almost inaudible in the quiet evening, yet laden with a sudden urgency.

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of the situation settling over you with sudden clarity. Of course, you think bitterly. It was all part of the act, a simple move to maintain the facade, to avoid suspicion. The thought feels like a cold rush, and you can’t quite understand why it makes your heart sink just a little.

As your mind swirls, Hoseok’s words from the day before yesterday echo in your head, the ones that made you question the dynamics of this entire charade.

Why is Jungkook even doing this? What is he even getting out of it? you wonder. His actions feel so carefully measured, so deliberate, but now, standing beside him, you can’t help but feel like there’s more to it than just playing along for appearances.

And then, as your thoughts tumble over each other, another question surfaces... one you can’t shake. Why is he worried about being caught? You glance at Jungkook, his face turned slightly away, eyes still focused on the path ahead, his hand still holding yours. He hasn’t loosened his grip, but there’s a tension in the way he holds on, as though it’s more than just a practical gesture.

The thought lingers, unanswered, hanging between you like a whispered secret. The more you try to push it away, the more the question claws at you, refusing to be ignored.

As much as you try to convince yourself that this is just a show, a performance, a simple arrangement between two people caught in an absurd situation, a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more at play here... something deeper, more complicated, something neither of you are ready to face.

//

The next day arrives quickly, the sun shining brightly and casting a warm, golden glow over the retreat grounds. You find yourself standing in the doorway of the large kitchen, anticipation bubbling in your chest.

As you wait for the day’s activity to begin, your thoughts drift to Jungkook, and a soft smile graces your lips. The past three days with him have been unexpectedly delightful and you feel like your heart has been beating differently… and the desire to see him, to be near him is gradually increasing minute by minute.

Today, the schedule has a bake-off on the list, a lighthearted yet competitive event. But this time, to your surprise, there's a slight twist... you don’t get to choose your partner.

Instead, Mr. Cho will be picking out the names from a hat, ensuring that everyone interacts with someone new instead of just sticking with familiar faces. Jungkook already gets paired up with Hoseok and a part of you falters, sad that he won’t be your partner for this activity.

The anticipation in the room builds as Mr. Cho starts calling out the names. Your heart skips a beat when you hear your name being paired with none other than Min Yoongi.

Min Yoongi was a fellow coworker from another team and a part of you is thankful it’s him and not some random stranger. You’ve worked with him a few times before, and while you’ve always admired his quiet charm, today you’re both in for an unexpected challenge. Yoongi has always been sweet and approachable, his gummy smile and laid-back nature endearing to everyone around him.

As you walk over to your station, Yoongi stands beside you, looking a little uncertain. He glances at the array of ingredients and sighs. “I’ve never baked before.” he admits, his tone a mix of amusement and apprehension.

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Same here.” you say with a playful grin, turning to face him. “Guess we’re both in for an adventure today.” The words come easily, and something about the situation feels oddly comforting.

Meanwhile, a few counters away, Jungkook stands next to Hoseok. If he wasn’t already irritated by the fact that he was being paired with someone he absolutely cannot stand, considering how Hoseok being your close friend has always annoyed him, the sight of you working so easily with someone else... some other man... has his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you and Yoongi chat easily, the two of you laughing and navigating your baking station with light-hearted banter. Every glance in your direction feels like a reminder that things are not as simple as they should be.

Yoongi’s soft laugh cuts through his thoughts, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of something he refuses to acknowledge. It’s like the universe is conspiring against him today, forcing him to witness you grow closer to someone else, and it makes him feel something he can’t quite place.

The tension in his chest tightens, but he pushes it down, trying to focus on his own station. He can’t let himself get distracted by this, even though the thought of you mingling with another man gnaws at him, just under the surface.

Ignoring the crushing weight in his chest, Jungkook forces himself to focus on the task at hand, settling into a rhythm with Hoseok. Surprisingly, Hoseok proves to be a cooperative partner, and they manage to work efficiently, though their conversations are sparse and purely functional.

Around them, the kitchen hums with energy... clattering bowls, bursts of laughter, and the sound of Mr. Cho’s voice as he strolls by to observe everyone’s progress.

Jungkook tries to keep his head down, but his resolve falters as his gaze drifts, almost involuntarily, to your station. You’re with Yoongi, and the sight is just undeniably painful. The two of you are laughing, the kind of laughter that feels unrestrained and easy, and Jungkook feels something bitter rise in his chest.

His eyes narrow as Yoongi leans closer to you, smirking as he says something that makes you giggle. Then Yoongi suddenly blows a puff of flour in your direction, his grin widening when you squeal and lift your hands in a futile attempt to block it. “Yoongi!” you exclaim, laughing as you swipe the powder off your cheeks.

“You’re welcome.” Yoongi replies smoothly, dusting off his hands with a wink.

Jungkook glares, his grip on the mixing bowl tightening. Look at this grown-ass man making a mess, he thinks bitterly. But he knows it’s not about the flour or the mess, it’s about the easy camaraderie between the two of you, the playful way Yoongi leans into your space as you try to whisk the cream.

“You know...” Yoongi drawls, leaning casually on the counter as you measure the sugar. “You’re pretty good at this. Maybe we should open a bakery together. I’ll be the charming face of the business, and you can do all the work.”

You snort, nudging him with your elbow. Yoongi has always been like this, with all the occasional comments and jokes. “Oh, so I do the heavy lifting while you stand around and smile? Sounds like a solid partnership.” you playfully roll your eyes.

“Exactly.” he replies with a mock-serious nod. Then his tone shifts, dipping into something playfully flirtatious. “Or, better yet, we could skip the bakery and just bake together... at my place.”

Your eyes widen slightly before you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.” you say. “I’m practical.” Yoongi retorts with a shrug. “Besides, if you ever get tired of Jungkook, you know where to find me.” he jokes and even you know that he doesn't really mean that because you're somewhat used to his harmless, meaningless flirting.

As far as you've observed, he's like this with everyone, but the man standing a few counters behind you doesn't know that and his jaw tightens as he overhears the conversation.

He glares at Yoongi, his eyes narrowing into slits as his chest tightens uncomfortably. If she ever gets tired of me? Please. The laughter at your station contrasts sharply with the strained silence at his own, and Jungkook struggles to quell the sour taste in his mouth. He stirs the batter with unnecessary vigor, trying to block out the image of you with someone else.

“Are you trying to murder the batter?” Hoseok’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Jungkook blinks and realizes he’s been whisking too hard, the mixture splattered slightly around the edges. “Just... making sure it’s mixed properly.” he mutters, brushing off Hoseok’s raised brow.

Hoseok shakes his head, muttering something about misplaced aggression, but Jungkook doesn’t hear it. His eyes are already back on you, unable to look away even as it irritates him to no end.

“Oh, please.” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning. “As if I’d ever pick you. You’d probably just make me do all the work anyway.” you say, passing him the bowl so that he can make sure the batter's smoothly mixed.

“Not true.” Yoongi says, feigning offense. “I’d let you taste-test everything too. See? Equal partnership.” he smiles. Your laughter rings out again, light and carefree, and Jungkook feels like he’s losing his mind. It’s not just the banter, or the way Yoongi’s grin stretches wide... it’s the way you respond to him, the way you look genuinely happy.

//

Eventually, the bake-off wraps up, and to everyone’s surprise, Mr. Park and another coworker, Wonho, win the contest. Their cake is a masterpiece, elegantly designed with intricate icing patterns that scream perfection.

You figure it’s mostly Wonho’s expertise in the decorative details, given his reputation for being particular about aesthetics. The room erupts into cheers and applause as they pose proudly with their winning cake.

You smile to yourself, genuinely happy for them, but the mess on your hands and clothes pulls your focus. Flour is smeared across your arms and streaked on your dress, and you can feel the sticky remnants of batter clinging to your fingers. Without wasting another moment, you slip out of the bustling kitchen, eager to return to your cabin for a much-needed cleanup.

As you head down the hall, your eyes catch sight of Jungkook leaning casually against the wall. His head is tilted down, eyes glued to his phone, but the sharp furrow of his brows and the tight line of his jaw betray his mood. He looks annoyed, maybe even angry.

For a moment, you hesitate. Should you approach him? Was his frustration because of the bake-off? Maybe he’s upset about not winning. You take a deep breath, deciding there’s no harm in greeting him. “Hey.” you say softly as you come to a stop a few feet away from him.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards you for the briefest second before returning to his screen. He doesn’t say anything, his fingers continuing to scroll, his expression unreadable but cold. The blatant dismissal catches you off guard. You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the sting of his indifference. “Jungkook?” you say again, your voice firmer this time.

Still, nothing.

The silence stretches, and unease begins to creep in. These past three days of the retreat, you guys had been civil, even managing moments of genuine connection. It had felt like a breakthrough, a tentative truce that hinted at something lighter, something easier. And yet, here he was, shutting you out without reason.

You shift on your feet, your confidence faltering slightly as you wonder if you’ve done something to upset him. “What’s up with you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral, though the undercurrent of irritation is hard to hide.

This time, Jungkook finally looks up. His dark eyes meet yours, and for a fleeting moment, there’s something softer in them... something almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, that familiar wall slams back into place. “Nothing.” he mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” you echo, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve been standing here, with your face looking like you just lost a million dollars, but sure, ‘nothing.’”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Why don’t you just go back to Yoongi, Y/N? Stop bothering me.” he snaps. Your head tilts in surprise, amusement flickering briefly in your expression at the mention of Yoongi’s name. “Excuse me?” you ask, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, go back to him. Looks like you were having quite the time back in there.” Jungkook scoffs, looking away as his jaw tightens. Your amusement quickly shifts to irritation as you process his words. “Why do you even care?” you challenge, your tone sharp now.

“I don’t care.” he fires back almost immediately, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “Oh really?” you ask, stepping closer as you narrow your eyes at him. “I just think it’s funny." he continues, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “How you’re flirting with some other guy when I’m right here.”

The moment the words leave his mouth, Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening slightly as if realizing what he’s just said. He quickly scrambles to cover it up, clearing his throat and speaking again, this time with forced nonchalance. “I mean, am I not your fake boyfriend? What are people going to think if they see you flirting with someone else?”

You blink at him, your irritation momentarily replaced by astonishment at the bizarre leap in logic. “Are you serious right now?” you ask, a dry laugh escaping you. “You’re worried about what people are going to think? Or are you just... I don't know?? Jealous, Jungkook?”

“I’m not jealous.” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, the defensiveness sharp in the air. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Good question.” you fire back, your tone heavy with sarcasm. “Why should you be jealous? Last time I checked, you’re not my real boyfriend.” Your words come out sharper than you intend, slicing through the tension between you.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you watch as something flickers in his eyes, something silent, something that feels like hurt.

Even though you know what you said is the truth, there’s a pang of guilt in your chest. His expression softens just enough to make you second-guess yourself, and for a second, you wonder if maybe you shouldn't have said what you said.

He exhales slowly, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you can’t quite place. “Right.” he finally says, his voice quieter now, more measured. His arms cross over his chest, but the posture doesn’t feel defensive, it feels like he’s holding himself together. “I’m not your real boyfriend.”

The way he echoes your words, so pointedly yet almost resigned, sends a ripple of unease through you. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, something that feels raw and unguarded, and it makes your stomach twist.

For a moment, the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything neither of you is saying. You want to say something... anything, to break the tension, to take back the sting of your words. But nothing comes.

Instead, Jungkook steps back, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he turns away. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/n.” he says, his tone light but his words weighted with something deeper. And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing there with the echo of your own voice ringing in your ears and a sinking feeling in your chest.

//

"I just don’t get it.” you groan, throwing your head back against the pillow in Hoseok's cabin, the ceiling above blurring as your thoughts churn. “Why is this happening? Why is he like this?” you question, recalling the earlier interaction between you and Jungkook.

Hoseok, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is surrounded by the chaos of his half-packed suitcase as he tries to find a nice outfit for tomorrow. He folds a T-shirt with an exaggerated patience, glancing up at you with an amused smile. “Come on, Y/N. It’s obvious.” he breathes out.

“What’s obvious?” you ask, your tone laced with frustration. Hoseok sighs dramatically, as if your cluelessness is physically exhausting for him. “He’s jealous.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with furrowed brows. Even you had thought of this particular scenario, but you still question, acting clueless. “Jealous? Of what?”

Hoseok leans back on his hands, a grin tugging at his lips. “Of Yoongi, obviously. You should’ve seen the way he was glaring at the two of you during the bake-off. He was gripping the mixing bowl like it was the only thing keeping him attached to reality. I was literally expecting him to snap it in half.” he jokes.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you, but the weight of Hoseok’s words lingers. “That’s actually ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? We’re not even… I mean…” You trail off, the words “fake dating” sitting heavy in your throat.

“You tell me.” Hoseok says, shrugging as he picks up another shirt. “But it’s pretty clear to anyone with eyes that he was seconds away from combusting every time Yoongi even smiled at you.” he says.

You flop back against the pillow, covering your face with your hands. “This is so infuriating.” you grumble, your voice muffled. “Why does it even matter? It’s not like this whole fake boyfriend thing is real. It’s all just some stupid charade. And now… this... this unnecessary drama. It’s just messing with my mind.” you complain.

Hoseok is quiet for a moment, letting your words hang in the air before he speaks again. His tone is softer now. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You lower your hands slowly, turning your head to look at him. “What is it?” you question. He hesitates, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you... feel something for him?” he asks. The question hits you like a jolt, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Do you?

Your mind races, retracing the tangled threads of your feelings for Jungkook. The way your heart skips when he looks at you just a little too long, the way his rare moments of softness make your chest tighten.

The truth, you realize, is that these feelings aren’t entirely new. They’ve always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Even back at the office, behind all the snarky remarks and the constant bickering, you wanted his attention. You wanted to know him, to get closer to him.

But somehow, the easiest way to stay on his radar had been to antagonize him, to get under his skin. It was safer than admitting how you really felt.

Showing vulnerability to Jungkook felt like handing him a loaded weapon, giving him the upper hand, and that was something your pride wouldn’t allow. The realization settles over you, heavy and unavoidable. You’ve always felt something for him, haven’t you?

Finally, you take a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. “I… I don’t know.” you mutter. Hoseok watches you closely, his expression softening. “Well...” he says, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s time to figure it out. Because, Y/n, from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear that he definitely feels something for you.”

His words settle over you like a weight you’re not ready to carry. You sit up abruptly, the tension in your chest too much to ignore. “I’m going for a walk.” you suddenly announce, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the door of Hoseok’s cabin. “I need to clear my mind.”

Hoseok watches you with a soft smile, his hands pausing mid-fold. “Take your time.” he says gently, his tone laced with understanding.

You glance back at him briefly, catching the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but you’re too preoccupied to comment on it. There’s too much swirling in your head... Jungkook’s piercing stare, his infuriating words, the way these past few days have been so... good with him, the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to untangle since this whole fake dating arrangement began.

Hoseok chuckles softly as you open the door, his voice light but warm. “Don’t think too hard, Y/N. Sometimes the answer is way simpler than you think.” you hear him say as you take a moment to let his words sink in before closing the door.

//

Jungkook paces across his cabin, each step mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. The memory of your heated exchange claws at him, replaying over and over like a broken record. He feels suffocated by his own frustration, a tightness in his chest that refuses to let go. Why had he let himself snap at you like that? Why couldn’t he control himself when it mattered the most?

Seeing you with Yoongi had been a punch to the gut. He hated the way it made him feel so small, so envious, so... desperate. He hated that it wasn’t him making you laugh, teasing you until you blushed, earning that bright, genuine smile that lit up your face. Instead, he was stuck in his own head, too consumed by his emotions to step up and be the person he wanted to be for you.

His jaw clenches as the questions pile up, each one heavier than the last. Why wasn’t he the one by your side, making you happy? Why was Yoongi so easily able to draw you in when Jungkook himself always seemed to stumble and just make you mad?

His stomach churns with the realization that his feelings for you are far more complicated than he’s willing to admit. The guilt gnaws at him, sharp and unrelenting. He knows he crossed a line.

You’d approached him, likely with the intention of being nice and talking to him since he looked annoyed, and instead of meeting you halfway, he’d lashed out, letting his jealousy dictate his words. Bringing up Yoongi had been petty and uncalled for, and he hates himself for it.

Jungkook exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his hair. He feels the weight of the unease coursing through his veins, and it’s unbearable. He can’t sit here and let things fester. Not when he’s spent the past few days realizing how much your dynamic is shifting... how much he’s shifting.

Without another thought, he grabs his jacket, slipping it on as he strides to the door. The crisp night air hits his face as he steps outside, but it does little to cool the turmoil within him. He doesn’t know what exactly he’ll say to you when he finds you, but he knows he has to try.

Because the idea of letting things revert back to what you guys once were feels unbearable. He doesn’t want to go back to being the guy who only got your attention through arguments and war of words. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever this fragile, tentative thing between you is turning into.

Jungkook shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, determination fueling his every step. He knows he owes you an apology and more than that, he owes you honesty. He just hopes he hasn’t already pushed you too far away.

As he crosses the quiet, dew-kissed lawn, his steps falter when he suddenly spots you. There you are, sitting alone on a weathered bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the lamplight. The cool night air wraps around you as you gaze out into the vast expanse of the dark sky, your eyes tracing the faint silhouettes of the mountains in the distance.

He stops in his tracks, his chest tightening at the sight of you. Even from a distance, he notices the way your teeth gently tug at your lower lip, a habit he’s come to recognize when you’re lost in thought. There’s a stillness about you, a kind of quiet vulnerability that makes something in him ache.

Jungkook exhales slowly, preparing himself. His feet carry him forward before his mind can overthink it. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his nerves tangling tighter with each step. When he’s close enough to be heard but not startle you, he clears his throat softly. "Hey." he says, his voice gentler than he’d expected, almost unsure.

You glance up, your expression briefly startled before your features seem to soften. You don’t say anything immediately, and he hesitates, wondering if you’re going to ask him to leave. But you don’t... you just watch him, waiting for him to speak.

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, his gaze dropping momentarily before he forces himself to look at you again. His expression is uncharacteristically soft, a vulnerability shining through. "I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry." he begins, his voice low but steady. "For earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was out of line."

You don’t respond immediately, your eyes studying his face as the weight of his apology lingers between you. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

With a quiet sigh, you scoot over slightly on the bench, offering him a silent invitation. Jungkook hesitates for half a second before sitting down beside you, leaving just enough space to feel the tension in the air.

His eyes drift to the mountains, dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. "I don’t know why I said it." he admits after a pause, frustration evident in his tone. "I guess... I just couldn’t stand seeing you with Yoongi like that. It got to me."

You let his words settle, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. "But it shouldn’t get to you, Jungkook." you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. "We’re... we’re not together. I don’t want things to get complicated between us." You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Protecting yourself feels like the only option… you can’t risk letting him see how this fake relationship has started to feel real to you. It’s safer to pretend otherwise.

Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, but you see his hands clench slightly, resting on his knees. Your words cut deeper than you realize. The phrase not together grates on him, leaving an ache in his chest he doesn’t know how to ease.

He wants to tell you how wrong you are, how much he wishes this whole thing was real, but something about the way you said it makes him falter. Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and he’s just fooling himself.

“I know I shouldn’t have pulled you into something like this.” he finally says, his voice softer now, almost resigned. You glance at him, noticing the conflicted expression on his face, but before you can reply, your gaze shifts past him to a figure lurking in the distance.

Mrs. Lee stands a few feet away, partially hidden by the shadows, her head tilted slightly, clearly trying to catch the tail end of your ongoing conversation. Her posture screams suspicion, and your stomach twists in panic. You don’t think, you just act.

“I know this whole fake relatio—” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off abruptly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

The kiss isn’t calculated or delicate, it’s instinctual, an impulsive move to shut him up before Mrs. Lee hears something she shouldn’t. Your lips are warm against his, though neither of you move.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as his brain scrambles to catch up with what just happened. His heart hammers so loudly in his chest he’s certain you can hear it. For a second, the world tilts, his thoughts spinning in chaos.

But before he can even process it, you’re already pulling away. Your eyes dart past him, scanning the distance where Mrs. Lee once stood. You exhale softly when you realize she’s no longer there, most likely walking off with her suspicions unsatisfied.

“Fuck… that was... that was close.” you murmur, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper as your gaze finally locks with his. Your tone is almost too calm, too casual, as if the kiss hadn’t just turned his whole world upside down.

Jungkook just stares at you, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief, his lips still parted as if he’s trying to catch the remnants of something fleeting.

“What?” he mutters, the single word heavy with confusion and something raw. You exhale shakily, the weight of the moment crashing down on you as you realize the line you just crossed.

“I’m so sorry.” you begin, your voice faltering under his unwavering stare. “Mrs. Lee… she was eavesdropping. She was going to find out about us if you kept talking.” You explain.

His features shift instantly, the softness in his eyes hardening into something unreadable. It’s like watching a storm gather on the horizon, his emotions swirling, barely contained. You can almost see the exact moment realization hits him, the slight flinch in his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as the revelation bleeds into hurt.

“That’s… that’s why you kissed me?” His voice is low, trembling with disbelief and something sharper, something you can’t quite name. Your stomach twists with guilt, the weight of your actions clawing at you. “I mean… yeah.” you admit reluctantly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

The darkness in his eyes deepens, his brows knitting together as a bitter laugh escapes him. It’s a sound so uncharacteristic, so hollow, it sends a pang through your chest. “So it wasn’t because you wanted to. It was just to keep the… act alive.”

The accusation in his tone slices through you, leaving a sting you can’t ignore. You reach for words, for anything to soften the blow, but he’s already moving, standing abruptly from the bench. His hand rakes through his hair, the motion restless and frustrated.

“Got it.” he mutters, his voice clipped, barely restrained as he starts striding away. “Jungkook, wait—” you call after him, scrambling to your feet, trying to grab his arm.

He whirls around so suddenly, the force of his movement makes you instinctively step back, the air thickening between you in an instant. His eyes are wild, blazing with frustration, but beneath it, there's a rawness, a vulnerability that cuts through everything else.

"No, Y/n !!" he snaps, his voice so sharp it feels like it could slice the air between you. "One minute you're telling me how you don't want things to get complicated, and the next, you're..." he gestures between you, his hand trembling slightly. "You're kissing me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

“I panicked!” you retort, your voice coming out ragged, barely holding onto control. You feel your heart pounding in your throat. “Mrs. Lee was about to find out, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have a choice!”

His steps are measured, each one bringing him closer, his presence overwhelming, his energy suffocating. “You always have a choice.” he spits, his voice low but carrying a venom that stings deeper than any physical wound. “Don’t act like you did this for me. You did it because you were too terrified to face the consequences. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”

The accusation hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his words, and something in you snaps. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady, but the anger bubbling inside threatens to break free. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook?” you bite out, each word coming harder than the last. “That I wanted to kiss you? That I enjoyed it? Would that make you feel better?”

He scoffs, the sound bitter and cold, and it hits deeper than anything he’s said so far. "Don’t twist this around on me." His gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “You can’t just cross a line like that and pretend it means nothing. You don’t get to do that. You can’t just—"

“And what about you?” you fire back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt, a sharp edge to your words now. “You’re the one who pulled me into this whole fake relationship to begin with… and now you’re mad because I’m going along with it? I’m sorry but this is on you, Jungkook!”

“On me?” His voice rises again, incredulity dripping from every syllable. “You could’ve stopped it at any time. The first night, the first second I lied to everyone… you could’ve told the truth. But you didn’t. You stayed silent. Like I said, you always have a choice.”

His words crash into you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. The anger and guilt mix into a swirling, suffocating knot in your chest. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you can feel is the sting of his words, and suddenly, you're fighting back, voice louder than before.

“Oh, please, Jungkook! I would’ve denied it if you hadn’t been constantly talking over me, pushing me to the corner. It was like you didn’t want me to deny it. So what the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re breathing heavily now, every word like a battle, your body trembling with the energy of it.

He stares at you for a moment, his chest heaving with each breath, his face still etched with fury, but there’s something else there now… a flicker of realization in his eyes, a shift that you can’t quite understand.

You speak again, the words coming out in a rushed, frantic burst. “Why did you even say it? What was the poi—"

“I couldn’t fucking stand Minhyuk flirting with you !!” His voice is rough, desperate, like he's been holding this back for far too long. The intensity of his confession strikes you like a thunderclap, and for a moment, you're too stunned to react.

Before you can say anything, he continues, voice raw with frustration. “If that creep wasn’t enough already, Mrs. Lee was going to set you up on another one of her stupid blind dates, and I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. I couldn’t..."

You can hear the crack in his voice, the raw emotion bubbling over like a dam about to break. It’s like all the months of built-up frustration and unspoken feelings are crashing down on you all at once, and you’re struggling to keep your footing. “It doesn’t make sense, Jungkook.” you start, your words trembling. “Why does it bother you so much—”

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, DAMN IT!!” He cuts you off again, but this time, his voice doesn’t crack with anger, it’s louder, firmer, like it’s the last thing he’ll say before everything changes. The words explode from his chest, raw and unguarded, and they hit you like a physical blow. They hang in the air, suspended in time, and the ringing silence that follows is deafening. The weight of what he’s just said presses down on you, suffocating, unrelenting.

Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you don’t know whether to speak, to run, to stay frozen in place, because the words he’s said are far heavier than anything you ever expected. He looks at you, his chest rising and falling, and after what feels like an eternity, he exhales a long, shuddering breath.

“There…” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but still edged with the intensity of what he’d just confessed. “There… you have it. I like you, Y/N. And just the thought of you with anyone else... it drives me crazy.”

The quietness that follows is unbearable, like everything around you has come to a grinding halt. All you can do is stand there, stunned, the truth of his words echoing in your mind, your heart pounding in your chest. He takes a step back, running a hand down his face as if trying to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter.

“I came here to apologize to you tonight…” he begins, his voice trembling with a raw vulnerability that feels like a blade twisting inside your chest. “Because I thought… I thought we were finally moving past all those childish fights and pointless arguments. I thought…” His voice falters, a breath catching in his throat as he exhales shakily. “I thought I was developing something real with you.”

The weight of his words presses into you, splitting you open in ways you didn’t think were possible. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes. The guilt, the truth, the mess you’ve made… everything hangs between you like an immovable barrier.

“I thought that throughout this retreat, I got to see so many more sides of you…” he continues, his words punctuated by a bitter laugh. “I thought I was getting closer to you, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong… because this is all just… a stupid fucking act to you.” His hand runs through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.

There’s a long, agonizing silence, thick and heavy, before he speaks again. His words are quieter, but they slice through the stillness. “You know what…” He suddenly pauses, looking away as if he’s trying to find a shred of clarity in the chaos. “You’re right. Maybe… maybe it was my fault after all. Getting into this stupid arrangement… What the hell was I even thinking?”

A bitter laugh escapes him then, hollow and dry, as he presses his lips together in a thin line. His gaze drifts upward to the dark sky, his eyes glistening with unshed emotion, the weight of everything he’s holding back palpable in the air. “Let’s just... pretend this… never fucking happened.” His words pass through you, sharp and final, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat.

You stand frozen, watching him turn away, each step he takes away from you feels like an echo in your chest. He walks farther and farther away, his figure slowly shrinking in the distance, and with each step, the world around you grows colder, more suffocating.

//

The next two days pass by in a blur, a haze of confusion and regret that clouds your every thought. Jungkook avoids you like the plague, and it's impossible not to notice the way he keeps his distance in group settings, his eyes carefully avoiding yours whenever they happen to meet.

You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as if everyone around you can sense something is off, but you're too wrapped up in your own head to care. Let them gossip. Let them wonder. It’s the least of your worries.

All you can think about is him. His words, his voice, the rawness in his confession. It replays over and over in your mind, and no matter how much you try to push it away, it lingers like a wound that won't heal. You're mad at yourself for letting things spiral this far, for letting it all get so out of hand. You should've said something, you tell yourself, but the truth is, you were terrified.

You still remember that night... the way your heart pounded in your chest when he confessed, how badly you wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that the shift hadn't been lost on you either. You wanted to tell him that this whole thing hadn't been a game for you, that your feelings had started to change, that you had started to care. But the look in his eyes, the vexation in his voice, it all stopped you from saying a single word.

In that moment, you froze. His frustration was palpable, and all you could do was stand there, staring at him, caught in the grip of everything he was throwing at you. His anger, his confusion, it filled the space between you like an impenetrable wall. You couldn't even find the courage to fight back, to tell him how much you had started to feel for him too. All you could do was listen to his words, to the weight of what he was saying, and let the silence stretch on longer than you ever intended.

And now here you are, stuck in this limbo, neither moving forward nor back, just existing in this awkward, painful space where every glance, every silence, feels like a reminder of what you couldn't say. You hate that he’s avoiding you, hate that you’re both walking around each other like ghosts in the same room, but you’re equally terrified of confronting it all head-on. What if he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he regrets what he said?

You want to go to him, to break this silence, to tell him everything you should have said that night. But you're not sure if you can bear the weight of the possibility that he might not want to hear it. So instead, you keep your distance, the quiet ache of unspoken words building inside you, while everything around you continues to move in ways you no longer understand.

You remain in your cabin, the sound of laughter and chatter from outside barely registering in your mind as everyone else gets ready for the very last event of this retreat, the talent show.

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as the buzz of excitement from your coworkers echoes through your cabin. But you don't care. You have no intention of participating, no desire to join in their festivities. The thought of putting on a smile, of pretending to be fine, feels exhausting. Instead, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself, cocooning yourself in the isolation you've come to crave.

You try to sleep, to let the darkness of the room envelop you and quiet the chaos inside your mind, but sleep feels elusive. Every time you close your eyes, your thoughts race back to him... his sharp words, the way he looked at you when he confessed, how he walked away as though nothing between you had ever mattered. The way he’s avoiding you now, as though you were a stranger he could never quite bring himself to face.

The thought of facing him again, of enduring another evening where he looks at you and then proceeds to ignore your very existence, is unbearable. You can’t take it. The coldness in his gaze, the way he acts like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible... it hurts in a way you hadn’t expected. You thought you could keep your feelings hidden, that you could keep pretending this was all just part of the act, but now, it’s all too real. It’s suffocating, and you’re left with nothing but the emptiness inside.

So you stay in your cabin, away from it all, away from him. All you want is for the world to quiet down, for the pain to stop, for the feeling of being ignored and invisible to disappear. But all you’re left with is the silence and the emptiness, a stark reminder that sometimes, it’s easier to hide than to face what’s right in front of you.

When you’re still trying hard to sleep, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n, I’m coming in.” It’s Hoseok, but you don’t answer anything, remaining rooted to your position. He’s the only one who’s aware of your current situation, so he’s giving you all the space you need. “Hey…” he softly says as the door opens and his head peeks inside. “The talent show is starting in a bit. You sure you don’t want to watch?” he asks. You remain quiet, hoping your silence is able to convey your answer. Hoseok sighs softly. “Well if you change your mind, I’ll be outside okay?” And just like that you hear the door click close, leaving you and your thoughts alone all over again.

The clock’s ticking grows louder as the evening stretches on, the music and cheers from the arena outside only serving to remind you of your isolation. You sigh, the weight of your feelings pressing against you. Maybe staying in isn’t helping. Maybe stepping out will offer you the distraction you desperately need.

With a quiet resolution, you slip on your sweater over your dress, trying to smooth your hair into some semblance of order. Your face feels empty, but you don’t have the energy to care. You step out slowly, your eyes instinctively drawn to the bustling arena in front of you. The crowd, the music, the laughter... it’s all happening so effortlessly around you.

You make your way over, crossing your arms and leaning against a nearby pillar. Suho is performing a magic act on stage, his tricks capturing the crowd's attention and their gasps of wonder. You watch, a soft smile forming despite yourself, the momentary distraction soothing some of the tension in your chest. It’s nice, you think, to see others enjoying themselves, even if you feel a world away from it all.

As Suho finishes his act, you feel the lightness of the atmosphere begin to seep in, and for a moment, you start to forget about everything weighing on your mind. But then, Mr. Park’s voice rings out across the arena, breaking your moment of peace.

“And next... we have Jeon Jungkook, and he’s going to sing a song for us!!”

A wave of surprise floods through you, but you can’t tear your eyes away as Jungkook steps onto the stage and the crowd instantly cheers for him. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, looking effortlessly casual but somehow more captivating than ever. His smile is small but sincere as he faces the crowd, and the lights around the stage shift, casting a soft, dreamy glow on him.

Your heart skips a beat as you watch him, your chest tightening with something you can’t quite place. You know you shouldn’t feel this way, but the pull of his presence is undeniable. He doesn’t seem to notice you, too focused on the audience, but then the background music begins to play.

And you instantly recognize the song.

Your heart stumbles in your chest as the words hit you, sharp and tender all at once. You’ve heard this song before, countless times, but now… now it’s different. Every note seems to pull at something inside you, something you were fighting to keep buried. His voice is smooth, soft like honey, but there’s a rawness in it now, an emotion that you can’t ignore.

He closes his eyes as he sings, lost in the music, and for a moment, it’s as though the world around you has melted away. All that remains is him, his voice, and the lyrics that seem to cut right through you.

I gave you everything, baby, everything I had to give Girl, why would you push me away? Yeah Lost in confusion, like an illusion You know I'm used to making your day

The familiar words feel like they’ve been written just for this moment, for you. His voice carries the weight of the past, the bitter present between you two. And somehow, as he sings, it feels like he’s telling a story… the story of you both, wrapped in the lines of this song.

But that is the past now, we didn't last now I guess that this is meant to be Tell me, was it worth it? We were so perfect But, baby, I just want you to see

The words linger in the air, heavy with emotion, and your heart cracks with every line. The memories flash in your mind… every moment you shared, every smile, every laugh. But there’s a bitter sweetness in it too, a reminder of what was lost.

There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me Together through the storm

And then, as if the universe itself has shifted, you feel it. His gaze. It lands on you from across the stage, and for a split second, it feels like the world stops spinning. He doesn’t break his gaze, his eyes steady on yours, but there’s something different now. Something raw. He’s still singing, but now it feels like every word is meant for you.

His voice, still gentle but filled with so much emotion, seems to wrap around you, pulling you into a world where only the two of you exist. The crowd fades away, and all that matters is the connection between you two… his gaze, his voice, his presence. You try to breathe, but it feels like the air has thickened. The way he sings… There's nothing like us, echo in your chest, resonating with a truth that both stings and soothes at the same time.

The moment stretches, heavy and thick, until it feels almost unbearable. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact. He just keeps singing, as though the song itself is a confession, a bridge between what you were and what you could have been.

Once Jungkook steps off the stage, you rush back to your cabin, slamming the door behind you. You lean against it, your breath shallow and uneven. Slowly, you sink to the floor, your head falling onto your knees as the floodgates open. The tears come in waves, as if everything you've been holding in is finally breaking free. The pain in your chest is so sharp, so intense, that it almost feels like you can't breathe.

How did it all come to this? Why does it hurt so much? The confusion, the longing, the heartbreak... they all seem to crash down on you at once, overwhelming and relentless. You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in the ache, but you sob until your throat burns and your body trembles. Each sob feels like it’s tearing you apart.

You sit there, motionless, your head still resting on your knees, hugging yourself as if trying to hold onto something, anything. But nothing feels like it makes sense. You feel lost, like you're stranded in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to escape this unbearable pain that seems to consume you.

And just when you think you might drown in the silence of your own grief, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n? You asleep?” It’s Hoseok again. You sigh, your chest heavy, and rise to your feet. You wipe your face hastily, but it’s no use. The tears are still there, still fresh. You turn and open the door, bracing yourself for whatever he might say.

“Oh… hey.” Hoseok says, but his voice catches when he sees your tear-streaked face. His eyes widen with concern. “Oh my god, Y/n… are you okay?”

You sniffle, your gaze falling to the floor as you shake your head, unable to speak, the weight of everything too much. It’s all it takes for Hoseok to step inside and pull you into his arms. You don't resist. His embrace is warm, safe, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself sink into it, allowing the tears to fall once more. And this time, you don’t have to be alone in it.

Hoseok's voice is soft, but his words carry weight as he helps you to the edge of your bed, his arms steady and comforting around you as he sits down with you. He doesn't say anything at first, just holds you gently, allowing the silence to stretch between you two.

"I thought I’d check up on you since the talent show just got over." Hoseok finally speaks, his voice low and steady. He pauses for a moment, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I didn’t expect to find you in this state."

You don't say anything, still wrapped up in his embrace, unsure of how to answer. His words seem to echo in the quiet room, but you don’t know what to say. You feel like you're drowning, and yet all you can do is sit there, letting the tears subside, one breath at a time.

"Y/n…" Hoseok whispers your name, his voice filled with concern. He doesn’t push for an answer right away, giving you the space to simply exist in the comfort of his arms. But then, he continues, his voice carrying a soft but steady note of advice. "I know it hurts right now, but you can’t keep burying this inside. You’re only going to keep hurting yourself that way."

His words are gentle, but they cut deep. You remain still, not ready to face what he's saying, but somehow, you know he's right. You're just scared, scared of the vulnerability, the fear of rejection.

"You should try talking to Jungkook." Hoseok says softly. "Even if he’s not ready to listen, even if it feels like he won’t understand, it’s still worth a shot. You deserve to let him know how you feel."

You flinch at the mention of Jungkook’s name, the thought of approaching him so raw, so vulnerable, makes your chest tighten. But Hoseok isn’t done.

"Y/n, liking someone, falling in love... it’s never wrong. You can’t control how you feel, and you don’t have to hide it because it scares you. Love is messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s not something to be ashamed of. You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard."

A quiet sob escapes your lips, and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, not in a way that suffocates you, but with the warmth of someone who truly cares. Hoseok’s words sink in, each one cutting through the fog in your mind. As he holds you, stroking your hair gently, something inside of you shifts. His gentle advice, though simple, sparks a fire you didn’t even know was there. You feel a stir deep within you, a sudden surge of clarity that pushes aside the fear and doubt.

You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard. The words echo in your mind, over and over, like a mantra. And for the first time in what feels like forever, something inside of you stirs something powerful, something real.

You pull away from Hoseok slightly, your face still wet with tears but your heart feeling a little lighter. You take a deep breath, the weight in your chest now feeling more like anticipation than dread.

“I have to go.” you murmur to Hoseok, your voice shaking but determined. Hoseok looks at you, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Are… are you sure?"

You don’t answer at first, just look at him, eyes wide with sudden resolve. “I’m going to talk to him. I can’t keep running away from this.” Without another word, you stand up, the suddenness of it all making your head spin. Your feet move on their own accord, each step purposeful as you cross the room. Hoseok watches, his eyes full of silent support.

As you step out of your cabin, the empty arena and stage immediately catch your attention. Chairs are scattered about, and you scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook. Your feet start moving almost instinctively, the desire to find him overwhelming. You make your way to his cabin, but there's no response. A small part of you wonders if he’s ignoring you, but you push the thought aside, continuing your search around the resort grounds.

You check the rope bridge, wander through the rose garden, even visit the familiar bench where you once sat together, but there’s no sign of him. Your chest tightens, your heart thumping painfully with each turn, each empty corner. Desperation settles in as you run your fingers through your hair, trying to steady yourself.

And then, finally, you see him.

There he is, sitting in the hot tub, his back turned to you. You freeze in place for a moment, your eyes tracing the outline of his broad shoulders. His elbows rest casually on the rim of the tub, the soft steam rising from the water around him. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing behind him, your presence unnoticed in the quiet night.

For a long while, you just watch him, the sound of the water bubbling softly filling the silence between you. You feel a strange sense of both relief and anxiety. You’ve found him, but the distance between you feels insurmountable. He doesn’t know you’re here, doesn’t know the storm brewing in your chest.

You take a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage you can find. Without saying a word, you step forward, your heart hammering in your chest. Each step feels heavier than the last, and your hands grip the fabric of your dress, the tightness in your fists mirroring the anxiety bubbling inside you.

When you’re only a few feet away, you can’t hold back anymore. “Jungkook…” you call out, your voice trembling ever so slightly as it cuts through the soft sounds of the bubbling water.

His body stiffens instantly. The tense shift of his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You watch his back, his head slightly bowed, as if he’s trying to ignore your presence. The air between you thickens, the tension palpable as the sound of the water swirls around you, drowning out everything else.

You stand there, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, the sound of the bubbling water in the hot tub louder than your racing thoughts. Your hands tremble slightly, and your heart beats erratically as the words you're holding in fight to escape.

"Jungkook…" you call out again, your voice wavering, almost a desperate whisper. It feels like you’re trying to hold a thousand emotions together, but they’re spilling out of you, unstoppable. "I… I don’t even know where to begin, but I need you to hear me out... I really... really need you to just give me a chance... to explain myself."

The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as if your very breath is tangled with everything unsaid. You can see him still not turning to face you, his back a wall, his silence deafening.

A pang of frustration courses through you, but beneath it, there’s something even more powerful... a deep longing, a desperate yearning. You’ve never felt this exposed, yet this desperate to make him understand.

With hesitant steps, you move around the edge of the hot tub, reaching the other side where you can finally see his face, heart racing in your chest as you inch closer. The blue light from the tub spills over the rim, casting soft shadows on his face, making his features seem almost ethereal.

The water ripples, reflecting fragments of his skin, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. He’s looking down, eyes shadowed, and his tongue absentmindedly tracing the piercings on his lip.

The sight of him, so close yet so distant, breaks something inside you. You swallow, fighting to keep the emotions in check, but it's no use. The tears that you’ve been holding back finally fall freely, slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to keep them in.

You take another shaky breath and walk a little closer, your heart pounding louder with every step, until you’re at the very edge of the hot tub. You hesitantly take a seat on the wet rim, opposite to where he's standing in the water. You can feel the warm steam of the boiling water near you, and a sigh escapes your lips as your gaze shifts to him again.

With trembling hands, you wipe away the fresh stream of tears, but they only seem to flow faster, as if your heart itself is breaking and you can no longer hold it together. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice falters, cracking with emotion.

"Are you… really going to ignore me?" you ask, the words feeling like cold metal against your tongue. The tremor in your voice betrays every ounce of control you’ve desperately tried to hold on to. It’s like the weight of your emotions spills out in that single sentence, and Jungkook, as if sensing the raw vulnerability in your tone, finally looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to stop.

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. His gaze, deep and intense, softens, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes... something like regret, guilt, perhaps even pain, as he takes in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His gaze flicks over the intricate trails of tears on your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the weight you’ve been carrying.

He doesn’t speak immediately, and for a second, you wonder if he’ll turn away again. But instead, he remains still, his expression unreadable yet so undeniably affected. Realizing this is your chance to finally speak, you begin.

"I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I… I was so scared… scared of how things had suddenly changed between us. But, Jungkook, I—" Your voice falters, and a sob escapes before you can stop it. You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat, but the tears continue to fall, relentless.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his chest when he sees the tears streaming down your face. It’s like a punch to the gut, and he feels it deep within himself. At that moment, he realizes just how much he despises seeing you cry, how every tear you shed breaks him in ways he can’t even put into words. He doesn’t want to see you like this... not hurt, not broken.

He swallows hard, his throat tight as guilt floods through him. The past two days have been an absolute nightmare for him. After confessing his feelings in the most chaotic, confusing way possible, all he could do was push you away, though every part of him screamed to reach out. Ignoring you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but in a twisted way, he convinced himself it was the only way to deal with everything that had changed between you two.

He thought it would make things easier, but instead, it only twisted the knife deeper, making him feel more lost than ever. You were the only person he wanted to talk to, the only person who could make him feel whole again and yet, ironically, you were also the one person he felt he couldn’t face.

His elbows shift off the rim of the hot tub, and with slow and steady steps inside the warm water, he makes his way towards the other end of the tub where you’re seated on the rim. "Hey..." he calls out softly, but you just can’t stop crying. The words he wants to say seem to get caught in his throat, as if he’s afraid to say the wrong thing, yet helpless to remain silent.

He rests his palms on the rim, right behind you, as you remain hunched, your face buried in your hands. You don’t acknowledge his presence immediately, still consumed by the storm of emotion inside you.

Before he can say another word, you're speaking again, your voice shaky and broken, each word heavy with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. "You don’t know how much it hurts, seeing you like this, seeing you… push me away when all I want is... to talk to you... to... to be with you." Your voice cracks as you try to gather yourself, but the tears just won’t stop.

"I’ve been holding this in for so long, because I thought if I kept quiet, things would get better, but they haven’t. They never will, unless I say this…" The silence that follows is suffocating, the words hanging in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. Jungkook’s expression softens, his gaze flickering with something almost unreadable, but the guilt is clear.

He watches you carefully, unable to tear his eyes away as you continue to break open before him. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to stop the flow of your confession. He knows, in this moment, that the only thing he can do is listen, because no matter how hard it is to hear, you need to speak your truth.

You take another shaky breath, finally moving your hands away from your face as you turn to look at him. He’s so much more closer now as he looks up at you from the hot tub.

"I care about you… I care about you so much, Jungkook. I think I’ve always cared, even when I didn’t know how to show it. And now, all I can do is watch you drift away, and I hate it. I hate how I made you think that I didn’t feel the same… that I didn’t want this. But I do. I want us.... and I so badly wanted our fake relationship to be… to be real.”

The sobs start coming again, stronger this time, making it harder to get the words out. "I like you. I like you so much. And it hurts to see you looking at me like I’m a stranger when all I’ve wanted was for you to understand that you mean so much more to me... you're not... not my rival.. not my enemy..."

You stop for a moment, trying to gather yourself. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in crashes over you like a wave, but you continue, your voice breaking as you speak. "I’m sorry if this is too much, if I’m saying all the wrong things, but I just… I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t stand this distance between us… especially knowing I’m the reason behind it. Please just… forgive me. It was never just an act to me… I swear."

You wipe your face with the back of your hand, your trembling fingers only making the tears blur more. Your stomach churns with the overwhelming weight of everything you’ve just poured out. The silence that follows feels like it stretches for miles, too heavy to bear, and you can't bring yourself to look at him.

Your eyes stay lowered, afraid to see the disappointment or confusion that you might find in his gaze. Afraid of the silence that might follow your confession.

But then, you feel a warmth against your back... his hand, gentle but firm, resting there. It startles you, but you don't move. He doesn't say anything, but you feel his presence growing stronger as he slowly guides your body to face him, carefully moving you on the rim of the hot tub.

Your legs dip into the water, the warmth of it momentarily soothing the aching in your chest, but the heat of the moment, the proximity between you and Jungkook, is all consuming.

You look down at him, still unsure of what’s happening, but then you feel him tug you forward, ever so gently, until your body slips off the rim and is immersed in the boiling water. The warmth of the water seems to fade in comparison to the heat that’s building between you both.

Your heart races, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, but the moment you feel his hands settle around your waist, your breath catches. He’s holding you, steadying you, inching you closer until you’re completely within his space.

Your mind spins as you try to process what’s happening. You can’t decide if you should pull away or lean into him, but the way he holds you…so carefully, yet with a quiet urgency, makes you stay. The water bubbles around you both, but the world around you feels so distant. It’s just him and you in this moment. You try to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest only tightens.

"Jungkook..." you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His gaze softens, his small smile lingering as he listens, his gaze never leaving your face. His eyes twitch and his heart breaks as he notices the tears on your cheeks, but finally being in this moment has him feeling lighter.

He lets out a light laugh, his tone shifting to a teasing one, "Took you long enough." his smile widening a little more. But then, as if to lighten the mood, his tone changes, filled with playful curiosity, "Is someone watching us right now, or are you being for real?"

The shift in his tone, the way he jokes despite everything that’s been said, catches you off guard. But despite the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you, a small giggle escapes your lips, the sound strange but freeing in the silence that had weighed so heavily before. You wipe your face again, but this time, it’s not just tears... there’s a small trace of relief, of hope.

"I don’t care if anyone's watching or not..." you whisper, the weight of your confession finally slipping off your shoulders. And then, as if you’re no longer holding anything back, you take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you continue, "But Jungkook, I…" You falter for just a moment, unsure of how to let this truth unfold.

His hands tug you closer in the water, the intimacy of the gesture settling within you, making your heart beat faster.

You can feel his body so close to yours, your dress still clinging to your skin under the rippling surface of the warm water, but you shove the thought aside. None of it matters anymore... not the water, not the fact that you're in the hot tub with your clothes still on. All that matters is the words you’re finally ready to say.

"I like you." you whisper softly, each word feeling like it holds all the emotions you’ve kept hidden for so long. "I like you... so much. And truthfully, these feelings aren’t new. I think a part of me has always liked you this way."

The confession slips out so naturally, but it feels like a weight has been lifted. You’ve finally said what’s been buried deep inside you, what you've struggled with for so long, with so much resolve and confidence. And as Jungkook listens, the silence between you now feels different.... lighter, warmer, almost like a promise in itself.

Jungkook smiles, his heart leaping in his chest. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly, his voice soft, like he needs you to say it all again. You nod frantically, inching closer in the water as you feel his form against yours. “I do. I mean every word. And if I’ve ruined everything between us, I’m so sorry. But I had to tell you, even if it changes nothing.”

For a moment, he just stares down at you, the reflection of the water reflecting in his dark eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything...” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your waist. “If anything, I’ve been the one ruining it by staying away when all I wanted was to be close to you.”

Your breath hitches as he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared me too, you know....” he pauses, the bubbling sound of the water filling the air again. “I wasn’t sure if what I felt for you was too much, too soon. But now I know… it’s never too much.... You’re never too much.”

As his forehead rests against yours, your eyes remain closed as you intently listen to him as a small smile tugs your trembling lips. "So... what now?" you ask quietly.

You feel him pull away just a little and you notice how his lips curve into a small, tender smile. “Now, we stop running... we stop this fake relationship and we get our shits together.” His laugh escapes at the end, low and warm, and you can’t help but giggle through the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“So no more acts?” you tease gently as you rest your palms against his bare chest. “No more acts.” he promises, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with quiet determination and a depth of affection that leaves you breathless.

The moment stretches, heavy with an unspoken tension, until Jungkook leans in slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. He hesitates, as if searching for permission, and you feel your breath catch. Slowly, you close the gap yourself, and the moment your lips meet, it's like you've wanted nothing more than this.

His kiss is soft at first, tentative, like a question he’s finally found the courage to ask. The warmth of it washes over you, melting every ounce of fear and hesitation. You lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as he pulls you closer, his grip on your waist firm and steady.

When the kiss deepens, it’s unhurried and achingly tender, like he’s trying to pour every unsaid word and feeling into it. His wet hand moves to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as if to soothe the tears that still linger there.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability mixed with relief.

“I don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” he admits, his voice low and raspy, barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the water. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, search yours as if you hold the answer to every question he’s ever been afraid to ask. His lips curve into a soft, almost bashful smile. “Maybe forever.” he adds.

His words wash over you like the warm water surrounding you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. Your heart flips, and for the first time, it feels like all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. A small, shy smile spreads across your face as your fingers trace the line of his jaw, the motion as delicate as the emotions coursing through you.

“You’re so cute.” you murmur, your palm now resting on his cheek. He lets out a soft laugh, the sound vibrating through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. “No, you’re the cute one.” he counters, his tone playful but tender.

Before you can reply, his hands shift, traveling from your waist to the back of your thighs. In one swift, fluid motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sudden movement steals your breath, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you’re filled with a warmth that melts away any lingering hesitations.

A giggle escapes your lips, light and free, breaking through the tension like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. You're amused by his actions, but somehow, it all feels undeniably right. “There’s nothing like you, I swear.” you murmur, your laughter softening as your gaze locks onto his. Your eyes shine with an unspoken joy, the weight of your emotions finally finding their voice.

His hands tighten their grip, anchoring you to him as though letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to entertain. “Well...” he says, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity that leaves you breathless. “There’s nothing like us.”

And in that moment, you know he’s right. The journey to this point had been anything but easy... regular arguments, constant disagreements, misunderstandings that felt impossible to untangle and of course, a fake relationship. But somewhere in the chaos, you’d found something real. Something worth fighting for.

He tilts his head, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek with a reverence that makes your heart stutter. “I didn’t think I could let myself feel like this for someone.” he whispers. “But you... you’re everything I didn’t know I needed. You’re the person who makes everything make sense.” he smiles.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, not from pain or fear, but from the overwhelming joy of being seen, truly seen.

Somehow, his lips find yours again, slow and soft, the kiss carrying the weight of everything unspoken. It’s not rushed or desperate, it’s steady and sure, a promise of the future you’ll build together. Each moment feels endless, as if time itself has paused to honor the love blooming between you.

When you finally pull away, the world feels lighter, the air filled with possibility. “We’ve come a long way.” you say, wonder threading through your voice. His smile turns mischievous, his eyebrow quirking as his playful side reemerges. “From glaring at each other during meetings and passing snarky comments every 3 seconds... to this?” he teases, his laughter soft and contagious.

You roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth lift in a smile. “I still think you’re insufferable sometimes.” you shrug.

“And I still think you’re stubborn.” he shoots back, his grin widening as he hugs your waist tighter. “But honestly, I think I can live with that.” you reply, your voice softening as your hand brushes against his nape, your touch tender.

“Good.” he whispers, pulling you into a warm embrace, the water rippling gently around you both. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ

my masterlist <3

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: A Harry Styles Series

Summary: A one night stand turns into more than you bargain for when you find yourself pregnant after drunkenly hooking up with Harry Styles after a few too many rounds at a karaoke bar. You don't really know him and he doesn't know a lot about you minus the fact your cat really just doesn't like him, but the one thing you quickly learn is boy can you two argue. This series is all about how you and Harry navigate going from strangers to soon to be parents all while trying not to kill each other in the process and maybe see what these weird feelings that develop along the way are all about.✨

Pairing: Harry Styles x pregnant!reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers (with a twist because it's like lovers to enemies back to lovers?), slow burn baby so buckle up.

CW: Mentions of a lot pregnancy/baby things, language, Harry's a bit of a dick, possessive behavior, jealous behavior, angst.

Tag List: Open just let me know if you'd like on it.

Story Type: This series is a mixture of texts and one shots, I think it'll be fun to see a a good mix!

Extras: Here

Update Schedule: Once A Week✨

Part 1: Late for What?

Part 2: City of Love

Part 3: Reviews

Part 4: A Little Treat

Part 5: Mr. Popular

Part 6: Places of Peace

Part 7: Swoon Worthy

Part 8: Good Hands

Part 9: Civil

[unequivocallyreid]

Why Didn’t You Tell Me?

it has been SO long... i was suffering from serious writers block but it think i'm finally out of it :)

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid used to be your best friend, but things changed. How long can you pretend that you don't love him before it ruins you?

warnings: angst! (with a happy ending), smut (unprotected piv), character loss, mention of Maeve, very sad Spencer, mental health struggles, drinking/bar scene, light choking, fighting, slight praise kink

wc: 8.8k 🤗

i’m very proud of this one! i hope you love it!

Every morning when you wake up, you feel a familiar and creeping sort of dread in the pit of your stomach.

Don’t get the wrong idea; you love your job. You love helping people and stopping horrible people from ruining any more lives, but the creeping feeling and desire to get out is always in the corner of your mind. Anyone working in this field would tell you that. There’s no absolute separation between you and the victims and their families. You take all of them home with you, and you just have to learn how to deal with that and not let it eat at you.

It doesn’t help that it’s an isolating job as well. The last time you were in a serious relationship was in college. Now, every date you have ends in disappointment. Not only do you lack interest in most of the men and women, but it couldn’t go anywhere even if you did. 75% of your time is spent in the office, on a jet, or hundreds of miles away from your home.

All of this contributes to the feeling, but the worst part of your job is Dr. Spencer Reid.

He’s secretive and dismissive and just about the most attractive person you’d ever seen. You honestly don’t know what is worse: his constant physical presence in your life or the fact that you can’t stop thinking about him no matter what you do. You’ve tried to get over it; you’ve buried yourself in work, lamented to your friends, and gone out on dates (all with guys that looked vaguely similar), but nothing has worked. All his worst traits grate your nerves and light you up at the same time.

The worst part of it all is that it wasn’t always like this. When you first joined the BAU nearly two years ago, you and Spencer got along well. You were friends, he talked to you about his life, he understood you, and you really severely fell for him. He became your best friend.

Everything changed around six months ago. Spencer started to develop migraines, and as those developed, he started distancing himself from you. He became snippy and closed off, he started hiding things from you, and he stopped talking to you about life outside of Quantico. It was like overnight, you became nothing to him, and you really didn’t understand. Everyone else on the team got the same old Spencer, but you went from his right-hand man to someone he only spoke to when it was necessary.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to be vilified. You know, realistically, he can and should be able to decide who he wants to be close to, but working with a man who unknowingly broke your heart was close to the hardest thing you’d ever done. So, you decided hating him was easier. The real emotions you feel toward him sit somewhere inside you, but they have been covered by manufactured distaste. Addressing the actual feeling would hurt too bad, so you pretend to hate the things you used to love.

Nothing, however, could have prepared you for the last case you worked on: helping Spencer save a girl he met about six months ago, a girl he loved. You tried to stay collected, you said nothing when Spencer assisted when he shouldn’t have, and goddamn, did you do everything in your power to find that girl. Maeve. She was perfect for Spencer, and you saw that immediately. Everyone did. The sight of him sobbing in front of her body is one that will never leave your mind.

Now, two weeks later, no one has heard from Reid. The only indication that he hasn’t abandoned his life altogether is the absence of the gift baskets on his doorstep that Pen leaves daily.

Nearly everyone has been to his apartment, but they are met with a closed door and have yet to receive a response. Everyone but you.

Penelope is the first to bring up your lack of appearance at the end of a long day of paperwork.

“Y/n, please, you just have to try. No one is getting anything from him.”

“I really don’t think my presence would do any good,” you pause for a moment, trying to collect the thoughts running through your head like a freight train. “Me and him haven’t been close in a long time, Pen.”

Before you can continue, she cuts in, “Everyone has tried, Y/n. Hell, I’ve even considered tracking down Gideon, and I really, really do not want to do that.”

She pauses for a moment before looking up at you with a pout on her face, “Please, Y/n, for me. I can’t bear the thought of him in there all alone, just wasting away in grief.”

For someone who claims not to be a profiler, Penelope knew exactly what to say to get you to agree. She’s the only person in your life who you told about how you felt, though you’re sure everyone else (aside from Spencer) knew: you’re shit at keeping secrets.

“Okay, okay, I’ll try.”

She nearly bursts with excitement, “Thank God-“

You cut her off before she can finish, “But I’m telling you, I’m not the person he wants to hear from right now. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Yes, yes. I just want him to know we all want him to be okay.”

Before you can hurry out of the office to follow Pen’s instructions, she stops you and hands you a basket full of assorted snacks and fruits.

“Make sure he eats!”

The walk up to Spencer’s apartment is a hard one to take. The smell of his building hits you as soon as you step into the lobby. From there, everything rushes back at once. Memories of nights you spent watching reruns of Doctor Who or listening to him prattle off about whatever he last read assault you with every step. As you slowly make your way up, you start to question why you agreed to do this in the first place.

You feel a lot toward Reid. More than you should and less than you could. But all that care and feelings that are so close to love aren’t enough to make you forget why you’ve been trying to hate him for so long. He deserted you without an explanation and cut you off without a warning. You spent weeks (three months) crying over him like a love-struck teen. So, as much as you want to hold him and comfort him, you know it’ll hurt you to do so. Penelope sent you, with the whole team’s approval, you’re sure, to try to patch up a broken heart he got loving someone else. There’s a sickness in your gut, but it’s not enough to stop you from rapping your knuckles against his door.

“Spencer? It’s Y/n.”

There’s no response.

“I know you probably don’t want to hear from me right now, but I want to make sure you’re alright. Can you tell me you’re alright?”

Again, nothing.

You know he’s there. Despite your lack of communication, you know Spencer well enough to know that he would never leave his life behind entirely. That being said, your next few attempts at garnering a response are unsuccessful.

You decide to try one final time before just leaving the basket alone on his doorstep and texting Pen it was a bust.

“There’s a lot I don’t know about you now, and I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling.”

You don’t exactly know where this is headed, but you continue on regardless.

“I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me, and I know you’re hurting. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you to be alone right now, Spence. You can either unlock your door, or I can pick it, but I’m coming in one way or the other. You know I will.”

You wouldn’t, actually. It’s a last-ditch effort, and it’s met with the same silence you’ve heard on the other side for the past ten minutes. You’re about to turn to head back down the stairs when you hear the very faint sound of a deadbolt turning.

There’s no other sound or movement, and for a moment, you think you might’ve imagined the sound, but you try the handle anyway. It turns, and the door slides open. You take a step in.

“Spencer,” you call out to him.

You don’t see him at first in the mess of his apartment, but when you do, you feel a crack form in your heart.

Beyond the clutter of his entryway, you see his back on the couch. His frame looks smaller than you’ve ever seen it, and you can see his legs curled into his chest. You set down the gift basket by a collection of others on the entry table and walk over to him. Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook a lost dog, you creep in front of him.

His head is down, and his gaze stays trained on his knees.

You reach out your hand and lay it over his. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“Spence, I’m so glad you opened the door.”

You didn’t plan out what you would say, but ‘sorry’ feels redundant and useless.

You go on, “I’m here. I- I don’t know what to do or say, and I’m sorry that I don’t. I can get someone else for you. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

You wait for him to say he wants Penelope or JJ, but it doesn’t come. Nothing comes. You start to move to get up, figuring you could clean up a bit and try to make him something to eat, then go, but he grasps your arm before you can.

He looks up at you, and his eyes hit you right in the gut. They’re bloodshot and sunken but still beautiful.

“Stay. Please. I just- I need to know I’m not dreaming. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.”

His voice is croaky from disuse and breaks at the end, but it’s so heartbreakingly earnest that you feel your breath catch. You move from your crouch and sit beside him on the couch; your hand is still in his.

You stay like that for a long time. His breathing is shakey and uneven, and every so often, his body shakes with what you can only assume are sobs. You stay pressed to his side the whole time, thumb rubbing back and forth over his hand.

Eventually, you speak again, “I’m gonna get you some food, Spence. You should eat.”

He says nothing back, but he does loosen his grip. You push yourself up from the coach with a promise you’ll be as fast as possible.

His kitchen is nearly empty, and you hope he’s been eating from the baskets. Still, you find enough to make noodles and butter, and you figure the carbs should help his energy some.

You return with the bowl. Spencer hasn’t moved, but his head follows you as you walk back over to him.

“It’s not fine dining.”

He studied you for a second, and you catch a glimpse of the old him in his eye.

“You did the same thing when I was sick on a case a year ago.”

You smile at his recollection.

“It helped you then.”

The rest of the night is spent mostly in silence. Occasionally, you tell him something to try to remind him that you’re there and that you won’t leave as long as he wants you there. Eventually, you get up from the couch again.

“Spencer, it’s too late to still be awake.”

He nods and still says nothing, but he is far more receptive than before. You reach your hand out to him to help him up from the couch, and he takes it.

He leads you to his room at a slow pace. His head stays down as you both take a seat on his bed, hands still interlocked. Being in his bedroom is odd for you. You’ve been to his apartment quite a few times before he disappeared from your life, but you never breached this space. It’s all very him. Almost surprisingly cozy, with books scattered around nearly everywhere there’s space.

You take in the moment for a beat before saying, “I’m gonna head home, Spencer, but please call me if you need anything at all. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

This makes his head snap up, and his eyes lock with yours.

“Please stay.”

That’s all he says, but every part of him is pleading with you. It’s not a good idea, and you know it. You’re the only person he’s seen in days, you aren’t close anymore, and you don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch tonight.

“Spencer, I don’t want to sleep in your living room tonight. I’ll come back.”

He pauses for a moment, “You can stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

Your heart cracks again. There was a time when this was all you wanted. It’s still, deep down, all you want, just not like this. You know he doesn’t really want you there and he’s not himself. But you aren’t strong enough to say no, so you don’t.

He gets you clothes to wear, and you change in his bathroom. You come out and find him in his bed, laying with his back to you. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you get into bed next to him anyways. There are a thousand thoughts racing through your head, but the prevailing one is how badly you want to touch him, to hold him, to make him forget, just for the night. You stay still, though, confined to the edge of the bed and start to count to drown out the noise.

Though, you can’t drown out his voice, saying, “Can- Could you hold me? I think that everything feels better when you touch me.”

Another crack. By the end of this, you know Spencer Reid is going to break your heart all over again.

~

When you wake up the next morning, Spencer is still asleep. You sneak out of his room and call Hotch. When he answers, you tell him Spencer has let you in, and you ask for time off to try to help. You can tell from his voice that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he grants you it anyway.

Much of your day is spent like the night before. You stay next to Spencer, and you cook for him after leaving to pick up clothes and groceries. Then, you get him to shower and wash his hair. He sleeps with his head in your lap, and you feel like a fucking idiot at first, but as long as it’s helping him in some way, you let it happen.

That’s the thing: you don’t really know how to help him. You know he isn’t the type to talk about something until he is entirely ready, so all you can do is add something domestic and bright to his life while he grieves. It’s all you can think about in the moments of silence. Hell, you even read to him to try and get your mind off of it, but it barely helps.

The night is the same. You change in different rooms and slip into his bed at different times. You feel dirty for imagining what it would be like if the circumstances were different: if he wanted you like you have wanted him for the past two years. You hold him against you, and you pray for sign that you should be there.

The sign comes the following morning when Derek calls you.

“Y/n…”

You can hear his teasing tone over the phone.

“Hi, Derek.”

“What are you doing, mamas?”

You sigh, “What do you mean?”

You’re playing coy. You know he’s wondering why you’re at Spencer’s house, picking up the pieces, but you won’t be the one to bring it up.

“Why’d you ask Hotch for the week off, Y/n?”

Another sigh, “You know why, Derek. I just, I want to help him.”

“I know you do, Y/n, I know.”

He pauses for a moment, and you let the moment fill with silence.

“I know you care about him. We all care about him. But who is taking care of you?”

“I am. I can take care of him, and I can take care of me.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/n. Don’t let this be something that hurts you.”

“It won’t. I- You have to- Fuck, I’ll be fine. He’s not fine. I don’t care about me or any feelings that may get hurt right now. I’ll be fine.”

There’s another bear of silence, “Okay, Y/n. Just know you’re allowed to tap out.”

You try to think of anything else to say, but nothing comes, so you say your goodbyes.

You won’t need to tap out. You can take care of him and be good to him and ignore the other feelings you have. You can be good.

The call does make you think it’s time to push, to try harder, to help him get better. So, you approach him that day before bed, before he tucks himself into your arms and falls into a fretful sleep.

“Spencer?”

He takes a moment and then responds, “Yes?”

“You have to talk about it. I think that you need to talk about it. It doesn’t have to be to me but to someone.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and your breath is caught in your throat, waiting for him to say anything.

“I- I don’t want to,” his voice cracks while he says it.

“Spence, you can’t come back if you don’t. You can’t move forward if you don’t.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

A ringing echos in your ears.

“You don’t mean that. She- she would want you to keep going.”

Wrong thing to say.

“You don’t know anything about what she would want.”

He’s seething now, below the surface, but smoke has started to plume from his ears. Still, you don’t stop.

“Spencer, everyone knows that. No one would want you to put your life on hold.”

He speaks his next line through his teeth, “You don’t know anything, Y/n.”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry.

“Spencer-“

“No, just stop. You don’t know her. You don’t know me half as well as you think you do. You don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you’re here. I don’t want you here. You can't be what I need.”

The ringing in your ears is louder.

“Spencer, please. Just-“

“No!” His voice is raised now, bordering on a yell, “I don’t want you here. I want you out, Y/n.”

This has to be what shell shock feels like. The ringing, the tingle in your limbs, and the heat in your face. You don’t know how you are moving, but you are.

His voice is echoing in your head, or maybe he’s still talking, but you can’t tell either way. The only thing you can focus on is how Spencer sounded like he hates you and that Morgan was right about the hurt.

~

You spend the next day trying desperately to shut down the noise in your head. It doesn’t work. The day after is the same. And the days following that. You ignore calls when they come, you ignore the texts, but you can’t stop looking at your phone for a message from the man who fills your thoughts.

Spencer doesn’t call, obviously, and you have to sit with a pit in your stomach while you beg yourself to just get the fuck over it. Two years of reckoning with the severity of your love, months of watching him live happily without you, and it’s the three days you spent trying to help him feel incrementally better that floor you.

You feel like a dumb teenage girl with so much love and nothing to do with it. On top of everything, you feel selfish. Spencer lost the love of his life forever, and you’re nursing the worst heartbreak of your life because a boy will never want you and never has. Still, you send out prayers for him over and over. You hope you’ll see him in the BAU again, even if his eyes glaze over you. Hell, even if they look at you with hate the way they did two days ago. You just want him to function. You want him to be good and eventually be happy. You try to go to bed with soothing thoughts, but you end up with a mantra of his name.

You wake to your alarm and dress for work before you realize you aren’t actually supposed to go back yet. You never set a date to return. You wanted to be open as long as Spencer needed you. You’re supposed to be with him. You’re supposed to be helping and not tapping out. But you aren’t.

You have no reason not to return to the bullpen, so you do. You walk in and feel eyes on you. You wait for Morgan to call out to you, but he doesn’t, so you follow the feeling.

Your breath catches in your throat; it’s Spencer. He’s sitting at his desk, paperwork spread out, and he doesn’t look away from your gaze; he just holds it. His face is unreadable, and yours is definitely not, so you look away first. You don’t look up again until you reach Hotch’s office. You knock and hear him call out to come in.

“I’m back if that’s okay.”

He looks up at you, and you want to cry. You know he can read you. He has always been the best at it.

“Are you okay with that, Y/l/n?”

You lock eyes with him, “Yes, sir.”

It’s no use; he knows your tells and you aren’t being honest.

“Alright, conference room in five.”

Whatever he sees in your face, he ignores and takes you at your word, but there’s a warning in his tone. He knows when to let things go and when to push. More than that, though, he knows you’d never let something like this affect your work.

~

The first case back is in Maryland, and the one after is in Austin, and the next is in Philadelphia with The Replicator. The job takes you all over the country, and the cases blend together. You don’t speak to Spencer through all of it. You’re never partnered, never work together, you sit on opposite ends of the jet. You don’t even speak at Strauss’ funeral. It’s radio silent, and everyone notices it, but no one brings it up.

In that time, you allow yourself to slip away slightly. You don’t go out with the team, you see Pen at nearly half frequency, and basically, the only time you speak is on cases. It’s stupid and melodramatic, but you call it healing. Derek tries to reason with you, JJ sticks to you a bit more than usual, and Penelope calls you virtually whenever she can, but their efforts are mostly in vain. This is your way of protecting yourself. You feel like you have to isolate in order to improve, and you know, given time, you will come back to yourself.

Penelope’s insistence that you go to her Day of the Dead celebration breaks your distance.

“Y/n, please come. I know you aren’t going out, but you have to. I know you have people to honor, and I need you there.”

You sigh, “Whose going, Pen?”

“The team, which you are a part of, so you must be there.”

“I don’t think I can do that. I promise you I will celebrate with you. I’ll help you set up, just please don’t make me go.”

Penelope pauses, but the glint in her eye keys you into the fact that she is not interested in giving up.

“We miss you, Y/n. Everyone loves you and misses you. You’ve been living this stupid, isolated life, and it’s time for you to come back. You are not this person. I refuse to believe it. You’re coming, and that’s final.”

Maybe you don’t have the energy to argue, or maybe you know she’s right, but you agree to go.

~

The thought of seeing him makes your heart race, and the clock you keep glancing at makes it worse. Just a few more hours before you're trapped in a confined space (Pen’s beautiful home) with a man you haven’t spoken to in weeks.

You busy yourself with preparing. Lights are hung, food is made, and you make a trip to the store while Pen sets up her remembrance table. When everything is said and done, you can’t help but feel this is the most beautiful thing you’ve been a part of in a long time.

The first knock comes at 7:30 exactly, and it’s Hotch and Rossi. They are followed closely by Blake, then Derek and JJ. By 7:00, the atmosphere is light and loving, and you feel a bit of your anxiety let up as the minutes go by without Reid. But, eventually, the knock comes, of course it does, and you move into a corner as Spencer walks in. You feel a shift in energy, though you doubt it’s palpable for anyone else. Rossi is the first to make his way over to you, and his presence comforts you nearly immediately.

“How you doing, kid?” His voice is soft like he’s speaking to a scared rabbit.

“I’m better,” you say, and it’s about as honest as you can get. As much as you’d like to think he knows nothing about what’s gone on, you’re smarter than that. He’s the best profiler on the team, and he’s always known when someone was off with you. Even so, you are better than you were, even if you aren’t quite good, and you know he believes you.

There’s some idle conversation between you before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. I don’t know when, but I will. Eventually, I will.”

It’s good enough for him, and you move on easily, which surprises you.

Right before Pen gathers you all to present your photos, he says, “Sometimes we think we’ve seen the whole picture, but we miss a big part. People do things because they don’t want to be hurt, but those things hurt them more. Just, be open.”

You don’t quite understand what he means, but you hope you will.

Penelope presents the first picture, which shows her parents. JJ honors her sister, Derek, his dad, Hotch Haley, and Rossi, Hernandez; then it’s your turn. You place down a photo of your best friend. You hadn’t talked much about her, but you think of her daily. She passed a few years before you joined the BAU.

“I was lucky to have someone that hurt that much to lose.”

That’s all you say, but it’s enough for you, and it would be enough for her.

Spencer is last. He places down a picture of Tesla and a picture of Maeve. Your heart is heavy for everyone.

The night dwindles from there. Hotch and Rossi say their goodbyes, and Rossi gives you a knowing look as he leaves. You just smile. You stay for a few minutes after, but eventually, you move to leave as well.

You make it down Garcia’s porch before you feel a hand grab your arm. You turn, and it’s Spencer’s face you see.

“Would you- Do you think you could come over? Do you think we could talk?”

~

The feeling you have walking up to Spencer's apartment is similar to what you felt the last time. You’re incredibly anxious, but at least you know you’ll be let in this time.

The drive over was silent. Spencer had taken the metro to Penelope’s, so he rode with you. It wasn’t necessarily awkward. There was just an understanding that the car wasn’t the place to begin your conversation.

Now, as Spencer unlocked his door, it’s one of those rare moments you felt starved for words, and you know it’s because you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing and face the same reaction that you did the last time you were in his home.

He leads you to his living room and motions for you to sit, and you do. The two of you are on opposite ends of his couch while you wait for him to say something.

His first words are airy and light, “Thank you for letting me talk to you.”

You look at him but remain silent, waiting for him to go on. All you can think about is why he wants to speak to you at all. The last time you spoke, he made it incredibly clear he did not want you in his life or around him at all.

Before you can think about it more and let your anger and sadness build, he speaks again, “I feel really stupid right now. I kind of feel stupid whenever I’m around you recently.”

He pauses momentarily before going on, “I’m so, so sorry, Y/n. About the last time we spoke. I’ve been thinking about it pretty constantly for the past few weeks.”

You open your mouth, unsure of what exactly to say, but you can’t get there before he’s off again.

“I’m not sure how to talk to you anymore. I don’t think I’ve known how to for a long time. I just, I need you to know how sorry I am for speaking to you like that.”

He takes a shakey breath but keeps going, “That wasn’t me, and that isn’t how I feel. I’m just unbelievably sorry, Y/n.”

He stops there, and you work to collect your thoughts.

“I know. A part of me knows, at least, that you didn’t mean it. I just wanted to be there for you, and hearing that made me- I just- I think it made me hate myself for wanting to be there.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m unbelievably sorry.”

“You didn’t talk to me for months, Spencer. I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you let me in in the first place. I thought you hated me.”

He’s silent for a long minute.

“I never hated you, Y/n. I just stopped knowing how to act around you, and then I met Maeve. I fell so deep into it that I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I- And I just started to feel like you didn’t want me to speak to you, so I didn’t. But, when you came here, after everything, I guess I just felt like you were the only person who would get it. You never, no one on the team ever treated me or talked to me how you did. I just wanted that.”

Tears had begun to well in your eyes now. A part of you gets what he means, at least about letting you in, but the other part is so confused as to why he stopped being comfortable around you.

“I don’t understand, Spencer. Why did you stop knowing how to be around me?”

There’s desperation in your voice that makes you sound like a stranger to yourself. Maybe you’re a stranger to everyone right now.

“I uh, I don’t really know.”

“That's not fair, Spence.”

You’re crying now. Just a little bit, but you can feel the wetness on your cheeks. You can see that you are by the look on his face. He looks broken, and you know it's a reflection of your own image.

You wipe your face, “Thank you for apologizing, Spencer. I just, there are parts of this all that I don’t understand, and if you can't explain them to me, I don’t think I ever will.”

“Y/n-,” he calls out your name like a prayer.

“It’s okay, Spence. You don’t have to say anything more. We talked, and things will go back to how they were eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

You smile sadly as you get up to leave.

“I am, too, for what it's worth. For whatever I did to make things change in the first place.”

You leave it at that, and it takes everything in you not to look back as you leave his apartment.

~

Things do get easier after that. Not completely. You still love him, and it hurts, but it helps to know he doesn’t hate you. He talks to you some, cordial things, and you do the same. You're sure your teammates still sense something is off, but this works for you. Right now, it works. Getting over him, not loving him anymore, is going to take work, but eventually, you know that you won’t hurt anymore.

Shortly after you and him talked, you started going back out with your friends. Spencer joined periodically, but that was normal. Bars were never really his scene.

Tonight, everyone gathers at your local pub. Your last case was particularly grueling, and you all need a way to blow off some steam. It's fun, and you feel good, even with Spencer sitting across from you. You feel proud of yourself for getting to this point.

JJ and Penelope feed you drinks to try and get you to dance, and you let them. Tonight feels as good of a night as any to ‘get back out there’ as Pen says. So, you do. You dance with them, and you ward off the other cops and agents around you who try to pull you away from your group. You aren’t interested in that. Right now, you're just having an appropriate amount of fun for a woman 15 feet from her boss.

Time goes by quickly, and by the time you get back to the table, you, Derek, Penelope, and JJ remain. He tells you that Hotch, Rossi, Reid, and Alex left a few minutes before. The conversation between you flows for a while, up until the drinks loosen Penelope up enough to bring up what you were pretty sure the team designated a no-no topic.

“Y/n, you have to talk about it.”

You’re still laughing as something Derek said when you reply, “What?”

“You know what. You and Boy-Genius. What on Earth happened? You went from ice-cold to semi-friendly. None of us saw it coming.”

“Babygirl-,” Derek tries to stop her, but you cut him off.

“No, it’s okay. I have to talk about it at some point, and I think right now is the only time I’ll be tipsy enough to let you get it out of me.”

You're still laughing slightly, but the pit that's lived in your stomach for the past few months starts to rear its head.

“After your Day of the Dead party, he asked to talk to me. I went to his place, and he apologized. I don’t really understand what he said or what he meant, but I can’t be sad about him forever.”

Pen perks up a bit at that, “I knew that party would bring good things!”

You giggle a bit at her outburst, but then JJ asks, “What did he say?”

The faces around you all tune in at that. You know they don’t see this as gossip. They care about you both too much to trivialize it like that.

“He just said that he stopped knowing how to act around me, and he didn’t know why, but then he met Maeve, and I guess it didn’t matter so much after that. He was my best friend, and then he was nothing.”

JJ shares a glance with Derek and then speaks, “Oh, Y/n.”

“What?”

After a beat, Derek says, “He didn’t just not know how to act around you.”

Now you're confused, “What do you mean? I talked to him, that's what he said. He didn’t know why. I mean, he knows everything and didn’t know why he didn’t want to be around me anymore. How fucking stupid is that.”

You laugh again, but it does come off as genuine in the slightest.

“Y/n, he probably doesn’t really know why. At least not fully. For someone as smart as he is, the kid can be really stupid.”

“Stop being cryptic.”

Derek sighs but goes on, “Pretty girl, pretty boy was in love with you. Probably still is. He just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same.”

“No. That's not true.”

You look at the others around you, but their faces are serious.

“He loved Maeve. He loves Maeve. That, that doesn’t make any sense.”

It's JJ’s turn to talk now.

“He definitely did love Maeve, no one is denying that, but we all saw how he was around you. His whole relationship with her was safe. He couldn’t be hurt by her rejection every day because he had no way of seeing her. With you, he could.”

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, “Did he tell you guys this?”

Penelope puts her hand over yours and says, “He didn’t have to, love. We all say the way he looked at you and acted around you. The way he talked about you. That boy was head over heels.”

“Guys, I appreciate whatever you’re trying to do, but this isn’t real. Spencer doesn’t- this is not real.”

“Y/n, pause. Think about the way he acted around you, the things he said. Think about how Reid is.”

You hear what Derek said, but it all sounds faint like someone stuffed your ears with cotton while you weren't paying attention. All you can focus on are the different scenes running through your head, the scenes of your life with Spencer in it. How he memorized your coffee order and brought it for you every day, how he never shied away from your touch despite his aversion to contact, how he consistently went out of his way to protect you on the field. At his house after everything, the way he clung to you and wanted to be held. How he said in his own words, “You can't be what I need”; not “you aren’t,” but “you can’t.”

Your whole world is crashing down in this bar, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

“Y/n?”

JJ’s voice snaps you out of your spiral.

“Just go talk to him.”

You nod mutely, and you get up.

~

Everything in the last ten months of your life has led you to the exact spot you were when everything blew up in the first place: Spencer’s door.

This time, you aren't too worried about him not letting you in. If anything, it's the opposite. Him opening this door could open a hundred others, and you don’t quite know if you are ready for any of them. You sit there and sit there and sit there, trying to work up the courage to knock, though you aren’t sure it's there to begin with. Right as you're about to walk away and decide you’ll come back another day, his door swings open.

“Y/n?”

His face is lit up with shock, and you notice his hand that is not on the door is holding his pistol.

“What are you doing here?”

You don’t answer, “Why did you open the door?”

He sets his piece down on the entry table before responding, “I heard footsteps in the hall and saw they stopped here. I was anxious. 50.3% of home invasions happen between 8:00 pm and 7:00 am.” He cuts himself off there, “Y/n, why are you here?”

You didn’t pay attention to anything he said. All you could think about was the way his lips were moving and the way his eyes locked onto yours as he talked.

“Do you love me?”

That is not what you wanted to say.

His lips fall open as he takes in a sharp breath, “What?”

“Or I guess did you love me? Before everything? Because Derek and JJ and Pen, they all said that you loved me, and now I can’t think about anything else, Spencer.”

He doesn’t speak, but you don't really give him a chance to.

“I just, I know I sound crazy right now, but I feel fucking crazy. I keep going over everything in my head, and I have been, for the past year I have been, but now it’s all different. It's all different because they said that you loved me, but you didn’t think I’d feel the same way.”

Here, you do pause, but he still doesn’t say anything, so you go on before you can stop yourself.

“Because if that's true, Spencer, it's just- I did. I do. And if it's not, then please just tell me so I can stop feeling this way.”

He sounds resigned when he says, “Y/n,” and you feel like you know what that means.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I'm doing this. You don’t have to say anything. Actually, please don’t say anything. I don't think I can hear it. Just pretend I never-”

He cuts off your ramble, “Y/n, stop.”

You draw your eyes from the floor, look up at him, and find something in his gaze you have never seen before. He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, and it takes everything you have not to look away. His hand raises to cup your jaw, and your skin lights on fire. Before you can process what he’s doing, you feel his lips press against yours, and something clicks. At first, his touch is light, like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. But, when he grasps that you won’t, he presses himself to you harder, and all you can think about is how nothing has ever felt so right.

His lips move against yours, and you don’t know how you're managing to reciprocate because it feels like everything in your body has gone fuzzy. The kiss is by no means long, but it feels like it lasts forever, and by the time he pulls away, you’re breathless.

His forehead stays connected to yours, and he whispers, “I do, Y/n, love you. I have.”

You don’t feel the tears on your cheeks until he’s wiping them away.

“Oh, Y/n.”

“Did you know? That you did? Is that why…”

You trail off, hoping he’ll pick up on what you're asking, and he does.

“I didn’t at first, or I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you until it happened. I got scared, so I ran. I just never thought that you could feel the same or that I was hurting you. I didn’t realize that. I just thought I was doing what was best for us. I felt guilty for being in love with my best friend.”

“And Maeve?”

“I loved Maeve. I’ll always have love for her. I was trying to move on, and I thought I could eventually be with her and be around you without it hurting. I wish I would have told you this before.”

“You’re telling me now. That's enough.”

This time, it's you who pushes your lips to meet his. Your arms snake around his neck, and his fall to your waist. You follow when he pulls you into his apartment and closes the door. There is still pain on both sides, but you can feel it dissipating as you cling to each other. You’re just two broken people who have finally found a way to each other.

This kiss is different, hungrier. Neither of you pulls away for longer than a few seconds as you navigate your way from his entryway to his couch. Every touch is desperate like you're searching for something you never knew existed until now. His hands pull you closer and closer until he's pulling you on top of him, and each of your legs rests on opposite sides of his hips.

Your lips break from his for a moment, “What do you want, Spence?”

His reply is instant, “You.”

From there, things move faster. Your hands unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders while he undoes your pants. There are moments of awkwardness that come with exploring another for the first time, but it feels good. His hands trace over your hips and push further until you're left on top of him in only your underwear and bra. He takes you in like you are something to be marveled at, and you know your eyes reflect the same adoration.

You raise yourself off of him and work to get him in the same state of undress as you, and when you position yourself on top of him, you feel his length press against your center. The two thin layers of fabric do little to hinder the intensity as you rock into him. He lets out quiet moans at the action as his lips trace down your neck and over your collarbone.

His breath ghosts over you and makes you shiver when he asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

His hand moves between the two of you, and his fingers find your clit easily, rubbing circles over the fabric of your panties. You pant his name against his lips at the action. You feel like your whole body is lit up, and under any other circumstance, you'd feel embarrassed at how worked up you are, but you can’t seem to care.

After a few moments, he lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. From there, he positions you below him on the bed, removing your remaining clothes in the same motion. The new setup lets you grip him, and he feels big in your hand. His fingers resume their previous assault before dipping down into you. You cry out at the feeling of him inside you, slowly pushing in and out, finding a spot that makes your legs start to shake. He’s relentless in his pursuit and all you can muster up the energy to say is his name.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n.”

It's somewhere between a whimper and a whisper, but the sound of his voice causes you to clench around his fingers.

He picks up on this, of course he does, and quickens his pace as he coos at you.

“So pretty like this. I’m so lucky.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, so when he moves his thumb over your clit to rub circles as he fucks into you with his fingers, you come undone almost instantly with a warning and cry of his name. He works you through your orgasm, all while whispering praise in your ear. Once you come down from your high, you start to push his boxers down his legs, but he stops you before you can fully.

“We don’t have to do anything more, Y/n. I liked just making you feel good.”

“I want more. I want to feel you if you want that too.”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I couldn’t regret this, Spencer. I love you. I want all of you.”

It's the first time you’ve actually said those three words to him, and it feels so fucking good to say.

“I love you, too. God, so much.”

With that, he positions himself back on top of you, running his fingers over your slit gently before gripping himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I might somewhere, but I have an IUD, and I’m clean. I can try to find one if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“IUDs have a failure rate of around .05% and are largely considered the most effective form of birth control, so uh, as long as you're okay with it, I am.”

You smile to yourself at his statistic but nod, “I want to feel you, Spencer.”

He returns your smile before rubbing his length over your entrance a few times and slowly pushing himself into you just slightly. He teases you, or maybe himself, for a moment before fully entering you. You push your hips up to meet his, and feeling him in his entirety makes your jaw fall open. He’s big, and you feel unbelievably full.

He waits a moment for you to adjust before he starts to develop a rhythm. His hands are everywhere, but his eyes are focused solely on your face like he doesn’t want to miss a moment of your reaction to him inside of you. To be fair, you are probably putting on a good show. Every movement he makes hits you in exactly the right spot, and you don’t think you could be louder if you tried. You can feel the leg he’s not holding up against his shoulder shake against the bed. Your first orgasm has made way for your second to be incredibly close.

“Spencer, please.”

You’re crying out, desperate for a little more to push you over the edge.

“What do you need, baby?” His voice is tight like he’s not far himself, and it sounds better than anything you’ve ever heard.

“Harder. Please, harder.”

He takes your direction immediately, rubbing circles on your clit with one hand while he thrusts into you with a bruising force. He’s fucking you like he wants you to remember the feeling long after he stops, and you know that you will. Everything about it is overwhelming: his smell, his pace, his eyes. You are covered in him, and he is covered in you.

After a moment, the hand he had on your stomach trails up to grasp lightly at your throat, and you fall into feeling. You can’t warn him that you're about to come before you do. The feeling is white hot. Bigger than your first, and the fact that you're coming on him sends you into overdrive. You can feel his hips falter for a moment, but you're lost in a daze, crying out his name.

He pumps into you a few more times before he follows suit. He pulls out, and you feel stripes of his come paint your cunt and lower stomach as he finishes with a moan of your name.

He falls next to you on the bed, and it takes you both a few moments to collect yourselves and catch your breath.

Once you do, the only thing you can think to say is, “I love you.”

It feels like those are the only words circling around in your head at the moment. Some mixture of his name and that declaration. While you know you each said it before, that your profession was the exigence of the sex you just had, it feels uniquely vulnerable to say now. It’s like the moment you just had together could have changed things or made him realize that he doesn’t actually love you after all.

That shoe doesn’t drop, though. Instead, you hear the three words echoed back to you by a man who, 6 hours ago, you thought would never, ever say them.

You turn to face him, and the love on his face feels like it could knock you out. He’s looking at you and smiling in a way you haven't seen in a long time.

“Will you let me clean you up?”

You know that part of the reason he’s asking has something to do with the likelihood of bacteria growth or something like that, but you think it's mainly that he wants to take care of you. Him wetting a rag and running it over you feels intimate in a different way, in an excruciatingly gentle way. Personal in a way that makes you feel like nothing between you could ever be wrong again, and maybe that's naive to think, but you feel hopeful regardless.

Once he finishes, he takes his space back next to you in the bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms, and it's different than it was all those months ago. This time, you know that he won’t push you away and that you won't hurt yourself by being next to him. This time, you just tuck yourself into him, and you let him whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you begin to drift off. This time, it feels like peace.

~

The following day, you wake up to Spencer still next to you, looking incredibly soft in the early morning light. You search for a moment to find your phone in the piles of clothes and are greeted with a text from Pen.

How did it go????

You smile before turning your phone off and climbing back into bed next to the man you love. It couldn’t have gone better.

-

all done! yay!!!

i hope you guys love it!! i’m not 100% happy with the ending but i’ve been writing this for so long and just needed to be done.

this is my first time writing angst on here and my longest fic, so PLEASE tell me what you think! all (nice) feedback is welcome and i love to hear from you guys!! :)