Rules of Us

by goldenverse

Summary:

Clear rules. No feelings. They call it the Rules of Us — a plan with boundaries, nothing more.

Chapter 1: Shining in the Crowd

The doorbell rang, making your swollen eyes flutter open. Moonlight spilled through the open window, and tissues were scattered across the floor—a mess you hadn’t even noticed. When it rang a second time, you groaned but forced yourself up. Everything felt like it was spinning in slow motion: broken glass, the TV remote lost somewhere under the blanket you’d thrown in anger.

You walked to the window to close it, and the cold breeze tangled your dark brown hair across your tear-streaked cheeks. You didn’t care who saw you like this.

By the third ring, you reached the door. Seeing Hoseok standing there made your tears fall harder. The last time he’d seen you like this was when your pet had died.

“Oh, honey,” he murmured, letting out a quiet breath and wrapping his arms around your trembling frame. Just what you needed.

“Tell me everything,” he whispered, holding you enough to let you sob freely. “Let it all out.”

Hoseok, who had just been hugging you, now sat on the couch across from you. “So… what exactly happened?” he asked.

You took a deep breath before telling him everything. “Two days ago, I got a text from Jimin. He wanted to see me at a restaurant. I said yes, got ready, did my makeup, my hair… everything. But when I got there, he was acting strange—quiet most of the time, distant. After asking him a thousand times what was wrong, he finally said he didn’t want to continue our relationship.”

Hoseok’s eyes flicked up to yours. He looked shocked but listened carefully.

“I asked why,” you continued, your tears replaced by simmering anger, “but he never gave me closure. He said it was something he couldn’t openly talk about yet.”

You frowned, your hands tightening into fists. “I call bullshit. I got up and left. I wasn’t going to sit there and listen to his crap. What does he mean he can’t tell me yet? We dated for two years.”

“He’s a piece of crap, Y/N. Why are you still crying over that jerk?” Hoseok said, not wanting to sound dismissive, but genuinely angry at what you’d told him about the man you’d dated for two years.

“Because I can’t help but wonder what went wrong,” you said, frustration lacing your voice. “I needed closure, but part of me hates him for what he’s done, yet I still love him for the moments we shared.”

“I hate that I can’t stop thinking about him,” you continued, closing your eyes and tugging at your messy hair. “I feel so weak and stupid that it makes me cry. It’s embarrassing to think about… in my head, I expected the night to be anything but a breakup. I thought he was going to propose… not leave.”

“I know, I know, Y/N,” Hoseok replied softly, but firmly. “But right now, these questions should be the least of your worries. Look at yourself. What happened to you? To who you used to be? You’re a mess… and I’m not going to hide that from you.”

He was right, and you knew it. It stung to admit that someone else had pushed you to the point of losing yourself, but deep down, you couldn’t deny it was true.

You sighed. Normally, you’d argue back, but you knew he was right. Hoseok got up and came to stand next to you, his hand brushing your back as he caressed you gently.

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you be miserable,” he said. “Because my best friend is sure as hell not weak, even if she’s making herself feel that way.”

You looked up, and he gently wiped the leftover tears smudged with mascara from your cheeks.

“Get up. We’re going out,” he said, grabbing his phone to check something.

“What?” you whispered. There was no way you were leaving the house after all the mental breakdowns you’d had.

“It’s simple, Y/N. You decide—do you want a depressing, lonely night, or a fun night? Either way, he’s still going to be on your mind,” he said, scrolling through a website.

“But… where are we going?” you asked, still unsure and not wanting to move.

“Don’t be boring. Of course we’re going to Hangdon nightlife,” he said. The mention of the club you always hit on Fridays and Saturdays made your eyes widen.

“What? Hoseok, I’m not sure about—”

He got up and grabbed your arm, making you stand. “Yes, you are. And I’m not going without you.”

Hoseok led you to your room and opened your closet, revealing your collection of party outfits. There was no denying it — you were a huge party girl, the total opposite of the sad, heartbroken version Jimin left behind. That’s exactly why Hoseok was doing this: to remind you who you truly were.

“Hoseok, I swear this is not a good idea,” you said, slipping into the black short dress that reached just above your knees. It was one of the dresses you’d wear on days you were really feeling yourself — the total opposite of tonight. Sparkly, tight, it perfectly highlighted your curves.

Hoseok, now texting his friends on the bed, was waiting for you to finish.

“Hoseok!!” you called, opening the bathroom door and facing him. He was casually lounging on your bed, munching on barbecue Pringles.

He finally looked up and smiled proudly. “Jimin fumbled really bad,” he said, and you snorted — there was no way he just said that.

“Trust me, Y/N, you just need to get out of the house,” he added, making you roll your eyes playfully.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you had to admit — you did look really good. “Fuck it. Pass me my makeup bag,” you said, tossing caution aside. Hoseok did say that either way, Jimin would still be on your mind, so you might as well have some fun.

“And that’s the spirit!” Hoseok said, tossing the makeup bag in your direction. You caught it effortlessly, knowing if you hadn’t, you’d be mad at him.

Debating whether to let your hair down or go with your signature high pony, you stood staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“Pony it is,” you decided, snorting at the sight of Hoseok, who was munching on a bag of Lays and Skittles on your bed.

“Tadaaa?!” you asked, slightly questioning, “Do I look good?”

Hoseok looked up and grinned. “Yess… oh yess,” he said, finally leaving the chips alone. “You look ready to dance.”

You smiled at how sweet he was, and how much his presence alone could change your mood.

Taking a last look at yourself in the mirror, you saw: the black sparkly, tight, short dress; long dark brown hair in a high ponytail; bold makeup with smoky eyes and berry lip gloss. The dress gave you the perfect push-up effect, and the shimmer on your arms and legs added confidence. Finally, your Victoria’s Secret signature perfume felt like the cherry on top.

A part of you felt bad for making Hoseok wait so long — it had taken him about 30 minutes to get ready. Most of his clothes were at your place anyway, thanks to your insane number of sleepovers, so it was easy for him to get dressed in his typical party style: baggy blue jeans, an oversized red shirt with subtle white stripes, a silver chain, green glasses, and a dark blue cap. Classic Hoseok.

“Perfect, let’s go,” Hoseok said, grabbing his car keys from your messy bed.

“Hobi,” you called softly, catching his attention instantly. “Thank you for being here.”

He flashed his wide, contagious smile and pulled you into a hug. “Anytime,” he said, patting your back before motioning for you to follow him.

“Wait!” You quickly grabbed your purse and slipped on your pointy heels before catching up to him, probably already downstairs starting his car.

“Play some party songs!!!” you squealed as Hoseok laughed and queued up your typical Katy Perry playlist.

“Last Friday night!!!” you screamed, excitement bubbling as the car ride hyped you up even more.

After showing your IDs, you stepped inside Hangdon Nightlife. No surprise — it was one of the busiest and most crowded clubs in Seoul. Disco lights in red, blue, green, white, and black hit everyone’s faces. The smell of alcohol, weed, hookahs, vapes, strong cologne, and sweat from dancing filled the air. ‘Same Damn Time’ by Future blasted through the packed club, and everyone jumped in sync, screaming the lyrics.

“Let me get a couple of shots first,” you told Hoseok. You needed a little punch to fully hit the dance floor. He gave you a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd, as expected.

“One Irish whiskey,” you said to the bartender, whose face you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Finally back to partying?” Seokjin, the bartender, said with a playful wink as he served the drink.

“Yeah… was gone for a while, wasn’t I?” you said, downing it in a single gulp and motioning for another.

“Yeah, I noticed the club was too peaceful without you,” he teased, making you snort at the absurdity. Seokjin wasn’t just a bartender — he was loyal, almost like a friend on days Hoseok wasn’t available.

“Make it stronger. I need it to kick in,” you said, turning to Hoseok, who was surrounded by a bunch of girls, making you laugh.

“As you wish,” Seokjin said, placing another shot in front of you. You didn’t hesitate, gulping it down.

“Mhm… how’s Yoongi?” Seokjin asked, the strong drink making you close your eyes briefly before squinting.

“He’s out of town… won’t be back anytime soon, I guess.” The mention of your brother reminded you how long it had been since he last checked up on you — but that was the least of your worries.

The moment Britney Spears’ “Oops!… I Did It Again” started playing, your head spun toward the dance floor. Another shot down, you winked at Seokjin like, Now watch.

Who knew whiskey could work that fast? The girl who had been sobbing over a breakup just hours ago was now in the middle of the dance floor, dancing alone — not needing anyone else, because she was enough to shine on her own.

You moved your hips smoothly, lip-syncing to the lyrics, arms playfully spinning your ponytail. Slowly, you trailed your arms from your hips up your body, confidently smiling at Hoseok, who hyped you up by following your moves and clapping for you.

You know you’re shining in the crowd. Most men — and even some women — are staring, probably wanting to dance with you. But you’re too busy vibing on your own, eyes closed, body moving to the rhythm. The scent of alcohol fills your nose, and the taste of the whiskey from minutes ago still lingers on your tongue, making you crave more.

A strong hand presses against your lower back. You smile — it’s Hoseok. He moves with you, hands sliding to your hips as he stands behind you. You reach back to feel his arms, marveling at how muscular he’s become. His cologne fills your nose — stronger than usual, more manly — and for a second, you wonder if it’s even him.

The man spins you to face him, and your eyes snap open. You’re definitely not looking at Hoseok.

His brown eyes lock with your chestnut ones. You slowly glance down — a black fitted button-up shirt, slim ripped jeans, designer sneakers. Silver rings, a chain, and a black leather jacket complete the look. Muscular, slightly sweaty from dancing, with messy hair and a confident smirk — he’s commanding your attention.

He raises a brow, catching you staring, and toys with his lip piercing. Normally, you’d probably push him away — still thinking about Jimin — but the whiskey has erased all nerves, leaving only confidence. For the first time since your breakup, you feel untouchable.

As the DJ switches to The Weeknd, the connection between you and this stranger tightens. His hands are still on your hips, and you glance at Hoseok, who’s clearly impressed — his silent way of reminding you that you’re still that girl. You smile, then turn your attention back to the man.

He chuckles at the way you smile at Hoseok, a cocky glint in his eye making you frown playfully. Slowly, you grind against him, his grip tightening just enough, moving in sync with the slow burn of the music and the whiskey coursing through you.

You tilt your head, eyes tracing his face shamelessly. His eyes are closed, lips parted, tongue brushing a piercing, letting you observe every detail: a small mole under his lower lip, pink lips, smooth skin, eyebrow and ear piercings, and a hint of a tattoo on his neck, mostly hidden beneath his shirt.

Even in a crowd, under flashing lights and pounding bass, all your focus is on him.

Chapter 2: Not Alone Tonight

The attractive man in front of you barely has time to open his mouth when another tall, broad guy taps his shoulder. His grip on your hips loosens, and before you can even process what’s happening, the whiskey and shots you’d downed earlier finally catch up to you. Without a second thought, you rush toward the bathroom, leaving both men behind.

After washing your hands, you notice a text from Hoseok, the caring friend he always is. You good? he’d asked. You quickly reply that you are, and when he offers to take you home, you shut it down with a firm absolutely not. The thought makes him proud, you can already tell.

Back outside, you make your way to the bar.
“Well, that was intense,” Seokjin says the moment you sit down, sliding a drink in front of you without you even asking.
“What was?” you ask, unbothered, grabbing the glass.
“That dance.” He smirks, clearly hinting at the mystery man you’d just left behind.
“Who even was he?” you ask, taking a sip of the drink he’d made so sweetly for you.
“You don’t know him?” Jin raises a brow. “Could’ve fooled me—from the way you were grinding all over him.”
You almost choke on your drink. “Seokjin, please. Don’t act like you’ve never seen me drunk dancing before.” You roll your eyes, brushing it off. “Where’s Hoseok?”
“His usual spot.” Jin points toward the sofas, where, sure enough, Hoseok is surrounded by a group of girls, casually sipping his beer.

“Hey, best friend,” Hoseok says when you approach him. He waves the girls away, and they leave without complaint. You plop down beside him, snatching the beer from his hands before pulling out your phone. A flood of unread messages from Yoongi stares back at you, but you scroll past them. It’s not that you don’t care—you just never have the energy to text back.

“You seem to be feeling better,” Hoseok says, taking his beer back and sipping it.
“I do, a lot,” you admit, turning your head toward him with a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Stop thanking me all the damn time,” he huffs, pretending it bothers him. The fake annoyance makes you snort—he loves being praised, and you both know it.

“Some of my friends might join us in a bit. You don’t mind, right?” he asks. Normally, it would just be you, Hoseok, and Taehyung, but since tonight was a last-minute plan, Tae isn’t here. And with how busy he always is, you know Hoseok just wants to check that you’re comfortable with more people.
“Of course I don’t mind,” you say, reaching for a glass of water. After all the shots you’d taken, your body needed it.

“Hoseok!” a deep voice calls out, making both of you look up.

It’s him—the same man who’d stepped in earlier when you were dancing with the other guy. He’s wearing black pants and a white shirt, half-unbuttoned and soaked in sweat, clinging to a perfectly defined chest. A silver chain glints around his neck, his hair messy from the heat of the club.

“Wah, Namjoon, you took forever. I almost fell asleep,” Hoseok teases.
Namjoon chuckles. “Don’t blame me—it’s all his fault.” He turns slightly, revealing the man behind him.

The same man you’d been dancing with.

“Yah, Jeon Jungkook, I almost got yelled at because of you,” Namjoon says jokingly, patting Jungkook’s back. Jungkook chuckles quietly, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he gives you the faintest smile.

A wave of relief washes over you. At least he’s not one of those guys who mistakes dancing for interest or expects something after a few moves on the dance floor. God forbid a woman just wants to dance. The fact that Jungkook doesn’t make it awkward eases your mind.

“This is Y/N—my best friend,” Hoseok says, introducing you. Both Namjoon and Jungkook glance your way. Namjoon greets you with a friendly “hey,” while Jungkook simply gives a casual nod.

A little while later, you’re all gathered around the bar. Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok are caught up in their own conversation, so you lean toward Seokjin instead.
“I’m surprised you’re still standing after all the drinks you’ve had. I made them strong,” Seokjin says, sliding another glass toward you.
“Strong? Bullshit,” you tease, smirking as you down the drink in one go. The truth is, it was strong—you could feel the drowsiness tugging at your eyes—but no way were you admitting that to Kim Seokjin.

“Make me the same one she’s having,” a deep voice cuts in. You glance sideways. It’s Jungkook.
“Be right there,” Seokjin replies, already at work.

Jungkook drops onto the chair next to you, scrolling casually through his phone. For a second, you’re skeptical—was he really that type, the ‘I-like-you-after-a-dance’ guy? But no. He seems completely unbothered, just chilling, no weird pressure. And honestly… that makes you relax a little more.

“So, how do you know Hoseok?” you ask, watching as Jungkook finally sets his phone down, his dark eyes locking directly on yours. He raises a brow.

“You’re his best friend? I’m surprised he’s never mentioned me—or Namjoon—around you,” he says, but his focus briefly shifts when Seokjin places a drink in front of him. Jungkook takes a slow sip, gaze sliding right back to you.

There’s no denying it: he’s one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. You’re staring shamelessly, and he knows it. Worse, he knows exactly what he’s doing with that look.

““I’m surprised you’re even friends with Hoseok if I’ve never heard of you.” you shoot back, your tone even—no disrespect, just matching his energy.

That earns you a chuckle. His lips tug upward, eyebrow arching again.
“We met in college,” he says. “Been friends since.”

You blink, actually caught off guard. That’s a long time. And honestly? You’re surprised Hoseok never told you. Then again, your best friend is the definition of extrovert—he doesn’t exactly keep a catalog of every single person in his orbit. If he did, the list would probably run close to infinity.

You nod, taking a sip of your drink. The man goes back to scrolling on his phone while you glance at Seokjin — who’s already watching you both, holding back laughter. That almost makes you laugh too.

Your eyes drift back to Hoseok, still deep in conversation with Namjoon, though it looks like they’re wrapping things up.
“What are they even talking about?” you mutter without realizing it, only to wince at how nosy that sounds.

Too late — Jungkook turns his head, glancing at them before answering, “Work.”

“Work?” you echo with a frown.

This time, he frowns playfully. “Namjoon’s helping Hoseok set up his choreographer career.”

You blink. Hoseok? Wanting to be a choreographer? Sure, he’s an amazing dancer, but actually pursuing it as a career? And he never mentioned it to you — his supposed best friend? The thought lingers in your head, but before you can dwell too much, you suddenly feel the alcohol weighing heavy in your body. Your head spins a little, and your eyelids grow heavier by the second.

“Wait,” you mumble, pushing yourself up before walking over to Hoseok.
“Yah, I’m sleepy. I’m going home,” you say, voice thick, eyes low.

“God, how much did you drink?” Hoseok mutters, while Namjoon studies you with concern.

“A lot, for sure,” you admit, swallowing hard, already knowing you’ll throw up later if you don’t leave soon. But Hoseok still looks torn — you know he needs to keep talking to Namjoon, and you’d hate to cut that short.

“Trust me, I’m fine going home alone.”

“But I’m not fine with letting you go alone,” Hoseok counters firmly. Namjoon nods in agreement.

“I’ll take her,” Jungkook says suddenly, voice low and solid enough to cut through the noise.

Your head snaps up, meeting his eyes. Hoseok thanks him immediately, but turns back to you for approval. You give a small nod, and Namjoon pats Jungkook’s back like a proud dad, which makes you chuckle softly despite how dizzy you feel.

“Let’s go.” Jungkook places a steady hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd and toward the exit. His touch never strays, staying respectful the entire way.

At his car, he opens the passenger door, waiting until you’re seated and buckled in before sliding into the driver’s seat himself.

“Do you even know where I live?” you slur, your words heavy with drink.

“No,” he replies simply, eyes still on the road as he starts the car.

“Then where are you taking me?” you press, turning to look at him.

This time, he glances back with a faint smile. “Hoseok’s place. Just making sure you get somewhere safe.”

The ride is quiet, the only sound being the low hum of the music he plays. Jungkook is calm behind the wheel — the only sober one from the group, the one who drove both Namjoon and himself to the club.

But none of that matters to you right now. Your attention drifts to your phone, and when you open your camera roll, your chest tightens. The photos of Jimin stare back at you, memories rushing in too quickly to fight off. You don’t even notice when the tears slip down your cheeks.

At a red light, Jungkook notices. His head turns slightly, eyes softening.
“You good?” he asks.

“No.” It’s all you can manage.

He doesn’t push. Doesn’t demand an explanation. He just nods, gaze returning to the road. And with a voice low but firm, he says, “If you ever feel like talking about it… I’ll listen.”

 

Though you appreciate his words, you stay quiet. If you open your mouth now, you’ll start sobbing.

“We’re here,” Jungkook says softly, pulling up in front of Hoseok’s house. He gets out first, opening your door like it’s second nature. Since he took responsibility for you tonight, he makes sure you get inside safely before heading back to Namjoon.

With the spare key Hoseok had given him, Jungkook unlocks the door and guides you in. Your drowsy body follows wherever his hand on your lower back leads until you collapse onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him — his tall figure steady in front of you.

“No problem. Let me get you a blanket,” he replies, disappearing into Hoseok’s room and returning with one draped over his arm.

You’ve already kicked off your heels, rubbing at your aching feet. “Help me with the dress,” you say, voice tired.

Jungkook hesitates, jaw tightening. You’re drunk, and he doesn’t know if the sober you would want this.

“Stop staring. Come here and help me,” you yawn, impatient.

Slowly, carefully, he steps forward and unzips the back of your dress. You get up, stumble a little, and disappear into Hoseok’s room, trading sequins and heels for baggy comfort: an oversized shirt and loose shorts. When you come back out, Jungkook is still standing there, keys in hand.

“You’re still here?” you ask, blinking at him.

He notices the question in your tone. “Now that you’re settled, I’ll head back,” he says, moving toward the door.

“Wait.” The word slips out before you can stop it. Your chest tightens, because yes—you barely know him, but the idea of being alone with your thoughts tonight feels unbearable.

Jungkook pauses, one brow raised, waiting.

“Can you… stay for a little? Nothing weird. I just—don’t want to be alone right now.”

The silence stretches, your own words echoing back at you. You scold yourself internally for sounding so desperate, so fragile. But the request is already out there, hanging between you and him.

Jungkook seems a little taken aback by your request, which only adds to your embarrassment.

“Uh… sure,” he says, sounding uncertain but genuine.

You brace yourself for the awkwardness—but twenty minutes later, there isn’t a single ounce of it. Somehow, you’ve both ended up on Hoseok’s massive couch, Friends playing on the big TV, sharing a blanket like it’s the most natural thing in the world. A half-empty bag of popcorn rests between you, and Hoseok’s stash of Sprite is already halfway gone.

Maybe it’s the drinks, maybe it’s your natural social streak as a party girl, but being around Jungkook doesn’t feel weird at all. In fact, it feels easy.

“Go make me ramen,” you mumble, giving his leg a playful kick with your foot.

Jungkook’s head turns, eyebrows shooting up. “Yah—what am I, your worker?” His mock annoyance makes you burst into tipsy giggles.

Still, he gets up and heads into the kitchen, tossing a sarcastic grumble over his shoulder. A few minutes later, he returns with a steaming bowl of buldak ramen, the smell instantly making your mouth water.

“Here,” he says, setting it down in front of you.

You gasp like he just handed you treasure. Drunk-you has never felt more blessed. Slurping up a mouthful of noodles, you let out a dramatic groan. “Oh my god. This is so good. You want some?”

Jungkook barely glances away from the TV, but without hesitation, he casually takes the bowl from your hands and digs in.

“Fuck, I made it too spicy,” Jungkook coughs, almost choking on the noodles, making you snort.

“Really? I’m too drunk to even taste it,” you say, snatching the bowl back and taking an even bigger bite. He watches you with disbelief.

“Insane,” he mutters under his breath.

“What did you say?” you raise your voice.

“I said you’re insane,” he repeats, matching your tone.

“Shut up,” you grumble, chugging the Sprite.

“Fuck, give me some,” he grabs the bottle out of your hands, trying to calm his burning tongue. You can’t help but laugh at him — for a moment, he seems just as ridiculous as you, even without drinking.

“You ate the whole bag!” you yell dramatically, pointing at the empty popcorn.

“You ate all the ramen, plus I was hungry!” he argues, rolling his eyes.

“Just go make more.”

“No, why would I? You ate my popcorn.”

“You can’t be serious,” he says with a yawn, tossing the last piece of popcorn at you with a grin.

Before you can argue back, his phone buzzes. He glances at the screen. “Shit, it’s Namjoon.” He answers immediately, his tone shifting. “Yeah, hyung, we’re safe. Don’t worry. Do you need me to come back right now?”

Hyung. Your blurry brain takes a second to connect the dots, but it clicks — Namjoon wasn’t just an older friend. He was Jungkook’s older brother.

When he hangs up, Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing his lip piercing. “They’re done talking. Hoseok will be here soon. I should get going.” His eyes flick back to yours, waiting for your reaction.

“Okay,” you nod, giving him a small smile. “Thanks… for staying with me, for driving me home, and for making ramen.”

He laughs — soft, almost boyish. “Yeah, no problem.”

He waves before heading out, pausing only to make sure you lock the door behind him. A moment later, you hear his car start and fade into the distance.

And then the silence hits. The kind of silence that makes your chest feel heavy again. You really did appreciate it though — the way you could spend the night with a stranger, without it turning into love or lust. Just comfort.

Finally, you drag yourself to Hoseok’s shower, ready to wash away the smell of alcohol and smoke clinging to your skin.

Chapter 3: Desperation & Deals

“What the fuck!!” you screamed, waking up with a headache as massive as the Eiffel Tower — definitely not how you wanted to start your morning.

“Aghhh,” you groaned loudly, collapsing from Hoseok’s bed straight onto the floor. Grabbing your hair in both fists, you rolled on your back, whining dramatically before crawling toward the door. Barely lifting one arm, you twisted the doorknob and shoved it open.

“This is killing meee!” you yelled again, rolling your body down the stairs like a literal disaster.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Hoseok said, eyes wide open at the sight of you in your freshly woken-up state. He almost choked on his coffee, trying not to burst into laughter. “Is it that bad?” he asked, coughing into his mug while already searching for Tylenol.

“It’s terrible,” you rasped, your voice scratchy from all the alcohol that had left your throat itching like hell. This wasn’t your first time drinking, but apparently Seokjin took your words way too seriously last night and made those cocktails nuclear strength. Add in ramen, popcorn, and Sprite at 3 a.m.? Yeah, your stomach was staging a rebellion.

“I need something before it kills m—” you gagged mid-sentence, bolting to the bathroom.

Hoseok, now holding a bowl of chicken soup he had prepped (because of course he predicted this), winced at the sounds of you violently throwing up. “Make sure you use the room freshener when you’re done!” he shouted from the kitchen, nose scrunching in disgust.

“FUCK YOU!” you screamed back.

That was enough to send Hoseok into full-blown laughter, clapping his hands like a seal.

“That was intense,” you loudly sigh before grabbing the fancy spoon and taking a sip of the warm chicken soup Hoseok had made.

“Mhm!” you exclaim, loud enough to make him laugh. “This is the best soup you’ve actually ever made.”

“Is this really you or the hangover speaking?” he says, which could be true — hangovers really do make certain foods taste amazing.

“I don’t know, but I’m definitely getting a second bowl,” you say, blowing him a kiss. He jokingly catches it.

“What’s up with you being on your phone so much lately?” you ask, noticing him scrolling through a bunch of links and sending them in a group chat.

“I’m going on my college reunion trip soon,” he says, taking a bite of his avocado toast. “I didn’t want to go, but Namjoon and Jungkook insisted. Plus, I’ll get to see my group, so might as well.”

“Speaking of Namjoon and Jungkook, I never knew you were that close to them,” you say, hinting at the friendship you had been unaware of.

“Yeah, you know me — I’m quite private when it comes to my friends,” he replies. You nod slightly. Just because Hoseok is your best friend doesn’t mean he has to tell you everything. Some boundaries are okay. And considering how many people he knows, you don’t even blame him for not mentioning them.

“So, where are you guys going?” you ask, stealing a bite of his toast, which he doesn’t mind at all.

“Camping somewhere in Seoul,” he says.

You nod. “Alright, well let me know when you go and come back so I can crash at your place.”

You get up and place the empty bowl in the sink. Surprisingly, you were full — no second round of soup for now.

After Hoseok finished eating breakfast, he insisted on driving you to work. He didn’t want you to deal with the headache by driving yourself. After changing into your work clothes at your place, he drove you there.

“Thanks, Hobi! Have fun at dance class,” you say as you get out of the car. Hoseok and his passion for dancing needs to be studied — after all that drinking and dancing last night, he was still energetic enough to attend class today.

“Hello, hello, hello!,” you greet Leah, your co-worker, who’s taking customer orders.

“Afternoon shift today, so you’re lucky,” she winks at you. You’d already texted her that you’d make it, since you were on the afternoon shift and had somehow woken up just in time after last night’s alcohol chaos.

Winking back at her, you check the computer before joining her at the counter. “You saved me, seriously,” you say as you type in a customer’s order. Leah had told the boss you’d be late because you were feeling sick — which you were incredibly grateful for.

“Anytime,” she smiles.

The next couple hours were spent taking and making orders; you and Leah switched, and when it was finally break time, you couldn’t help but crash on the chair and call Taehyung—you hadn’t talked to him in a while since he was busy with life. You sighed, the lingering ache from last night still buzzing in your head, a faint reminder that fun always came with consequences.

“I was just about to call you as well,” he said as he picked up, making you chuckle.

“For what?” you asked.

“To talk crap about the stupid camping thing Hoseok is going to,” he said, making you frown confusingly.

“Are you not going?”

“Absolutely not, why would I want to see the people I had been desperately trying to get away from during college?” he said, making you laugh—that’s relatable.

You tapped the screen of the register a little too hard, your fingers sticky from leftover syrup on the counter, and made a mental note to clean it later.

“But I feel sorry for you,” he said, slightly sarcastically, making you actually frown this time.

“And why is that?” you asked.

“Because your boyfriend is going there; bumping into a college crush or ex would be crazy,” he said.

The mention of Jimin made your chest tighten. Taehyung didn’t know about the breakup—nobody knows besides Hoseok—so you weren’t mad at him for making a joke, but just even his name alone was enough to make you sad because you couldn’t help but think about the times you spent together.

“Hello?” Taehyung called out, noticing the silence.

“Yeah, hold on…my break is over; I have to go,” you said quickly, ending the call.

You couldn’t tell Taehyung about the breakup right now—you were at work, and there was no way you were going to cry. But what really was on your mind was why Hoseok hadn’t told you about Jimin going on the trip. If Tae knows, then why didn’t he tell you?

Thoughts were taking over your mind, and you knew that Hoseok definitely had something on his mind. But knowing that Jimin was going on the trip—and the possibility of seeing him again, getting the answers you wanted, or maybe even fixing the relationship you both had—was the type of thoughts consuming you right now. Anyone would call you a desperate ex who needed to move on, but you couldn’t care less about what others had to say. You already knew you were a person with flaws.

Getting on Hoseok’s Instagram, you typed “Jungkook” in the search bar, and his name popped up at the top. jeongguk was his username. You clicked on it, knowing you were about to get into something that could either end in disaster or a happy way, and sent a text:

“y/n here. Can we meet up today?”

He responded shortly after:

“Sure. Where at?”

You sent him a nearby Starbucks location. “At 6 PM.” He gave a thumbs up.

You anxiously tapped your foot on the floor and your fingers on the table. After finishing your shift, you made your way to the Starbucks to meet Jungkook—the same stranger you had spent last night with popcorn, ramen, and Sprite while watching Friends.

The smell of coffee filled your nose as you bit into your everything bagel with cream cheese. The door finally opened, revealing Jungkook. He was wearing a simple black oversized sweater, grey joggers, classic white trainers, a black beanie, a silver chain, and a small backpack. His eyes scanned the room, then found you, and he walked toward you

“What was this for?” he asks, raising a brow, clearly referring to the random, last-minute meetup.

“Have a seat,” you say, matching his tone with a raised brow of your own while nodding at the chair in front of you.

Your energy makes him chuckle. He pulls out the chair and sits, leaning back comfortably, manspreading, his hands gripping the chair between his legs like he owns the space. His eyes fix on you, wordlessly telling you to continue.

“I never thought I’d get to the point where I’d have to tell a stranger about my dating life, but…I really need your help,” you admit, taking a sip of your iced matcha latte.

His head tilts slightly, brows furrowed in curiosity, but he stays silent.

So you talk. Ten whole minutes of spilling everything—your relationship with Jimin, how it ended, and how your best friend never mentioned Jimin being on the reunion trip. You give Jungkook all the context he could possibly need to understand your mess.

Finally, you lean forward. “So…you’re going on that trip, right?”

He hums low, tongue playing with his lip piercing, and nods. “Mhm.”

“So can you maybe…” you trail off, giving him a pleading look.

“Maybe what?” he asks, mirroring you as he leans closer over the table.

“Take me with you.” The words come out rushed, but you don’t stop there. “I would ask Hoseok, but the fact that he didn’t tell me Jimin’s going is sketchy. If you invite me, then when I see Hoseok there, I can just say I came because you’re my friend. And if he acts weird about it, then I’ll know there’s a reason he kept Jimin from me.”

The weight of it all makes you drop your head against the table with a little thud. “Please.”

But the cocky man sitting in front of you never misses a chance to be cocky.
“And what would I get out of it?” he asks, raising a brow.

You lift your head, staring at him. He’s still sitting there the same way — leaned back, relaxed, holding the chair between his legs like he owns the place. Watching him so calm while you’re spiraling almost makes you laugh. To anyone else, you probably look insane.

“I’ll take you to one of the best restaurants in Korea. My treat,” you blurt out.

That finally makes him laugh. A low chuckle escapes him, and it almost annoys you that he finds this whole thing funny. To him, it’s cute — how instead of bribing him with money or dirty talk, you’re out here offering dinner like it’s some business deal.

“Mhm. I’ll think about it,” he says cockily, smirking just enough to make you roll your eyes.

“Please do,” you mutter, pushing your chair back. “Thanks for coming.”

He only tilts his head slightly, nodding at you like he’s already got the upper hand.

“So you’re just now telling me about the breakup with Jimin… and the random guy you met last night who went clubbing with his hot brother?” Taehyung says through FaceTime, munching loudly on Doritos. His small complaints make you smile even though he’s clearly offended about not being the first to know.

“Tae, the breakup happened three days ago. Plus, the guy I met wasn’t even important until now. I actually need his help, so I had to see him again. Never thought I would after last night.” You sip on the cold watermelon juice Hoseok forced on you earlier, saying it would help with your hangover. He’d even made it fresh in the morning and left it in the fridge — you’d crashed at his place just to steal some.

“So let me get this straight. Your plan is to show up with this guy just so you have a reason to be around Jimin?” Taehyung asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yah, you make me sound desperate,” you frown, voice raising.

“You are,” he laughs, chips crunching in his mouth.

“I’m not! I just… I just want to see him.” Your voice softens, all the bravado slipping away. “I have so many questions. How is he doing? Does he miss us? Would he even want to fix things? And if not… I need him to give me closure so I can finally accept it’s really over.”

For once, Taehyung actually stops joking. The sound of chip bags crinkling fades, and he looks at you seriously through the screen.

“Y/n, I know this is a lot for you, but I’m here for you,” Taehyung says, his unexpectedly gentle tone catching you off guard. He’s usually the most unserious one in the group, but when it matters, he knows how to be serious.

“Thanks, Tae.”

The rest of the evening is spent yapping with him, you once again insisting—for what feels like the hundredth time—that you only needed Jungkook to get you into the trip. Nothing more. He’s still basically a stranger. But Taehyung wasn’t buying it.

When the doorbell finally rang, you told Tae goodbye, promising to hang out with him and Hoseok next week. You padded to the door and opened it, finding Hoseok standing there.

“Did you eat?” is the first thing he asks.

“Not yet,” you reply, making him smile proudly.

“Good, because I bought us food.”

You let out a little exclaim and practically bounce as you take the bags from his hands. Hoseok just laughs at your excitement.

“Stopped by a Chinese restaurant. Let’s eat?” he says, still slightly sweaty—you know how much he hates that feeling.

“No, Hobi. I’ll wait until you shower,” you tell him, smiling. You’d already used his bathroom and changed into his pajamas, and you want him to enjoy the food just as comfortably as you will.

“You sure? You can start digging in if you’re starving,” he says, always making sure you’re okay.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now go,” you insist, giving him a playful shove toward the stairs. He groans, tired from dancing and work, but obeys, trudging upstairs as you set the table.

“Wah, this is really good!” Hoseok exclaims, shoving a dumpling into his mouth. The whole house is filled with the rich smell of Chinese sauces. The food really is no joke—you’re already on your second bowl of Hakka noodles and your fourth dumpling.

They’re perfect: not too salty, perfectly steamed, with just enough broth inside to scald your tongue if you’re not careful.

“Mhm! I could eat this all night, all day,” you groan dramatically, falling back onto the floor.

“When are you going on the trip?” you ask, needing to know exactly when it’s happening. You still need Jungkook to agree before it’s too late.

“Soon, actually. I should start packing tonight—we leave tomorrow night,” Hoseok says casually, taking a huge spoonful of egg fried rice.

Your eyes widen. Tomorrow night? You really don’t have a lot of time.

“The drive’s only about an hour from here, so we’re all meeting up for the bonfire night,” he adds.

You chew slower now, mind racing over how to get Jungkook to finally say yes.

“Ahh,” you say, forcing a smile at Hoseok while sneaking your phone out. You quickly open Jungkook’s messages and type:

“Yah, did you think about it?”

His reply comes instantly:

“Careful with that attitude of yours. I might say no.”

You scream internally, biting your lip as you rush to fix it:

“I mean… did you think about it?”

This time, nothing. He leaves you on read.

You shut your eyes, inhaling sharply, trying not to spiral.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok asks, laughing at the sight of your expression.

“Oh yesss, of course I am,” you reply way too brightly, instantly cringing at yourself.

Meanwhile, Jungkook is probably smirking at his phone, fully aware of the power he has over you right now. To him, it’s not serious—it’s just fun watching you squirm.

After dinner, you forced Hoseok to eat ice cream with you. He complained it was too much after the mountain of Chinese food, but after a little convincing he finally caved. Now the two of you are sharing a pint of chocolate brownie ice cream while watching Insidious.

“Ahh, what the fuck!” Hoseok screams at a jumpscare, making you burst into laughter at how much of a scaredy cat he is. But instant karma hits, because the second you glance back at the screen—

“AHH!” you scream, clutching your spoon as another jumpscare pops up. The two of you break into uncontrollable laughter.

“I’m not sleeping upstairs tonight!” you declare, switching the TV off before the next scare can get you.

Hoseok rolls onto the floor, still laughing. “Sleep in my room, I’ll go upstairs,” he says breathlessly, though you know he’s just as scared as you—maybe even more.

You chuck a pillow at him. “Goodnight.” You step over his body dramatically, pretending to stomp on him, which makes him shriek like a little kid.

“Sleep well! Don’t get scared by the ghosts in my room!” he yells from the living room. You snort, shutting the door behind you before jumping onto his bed with a big yawn.

But once you’re wrapped up in his blankets, the high from laughing fades. Jungkook still hasn’t texted back. You grab your phone to set your alarm, a little ache forming in your chest—when suddenly, a notification lights up your screen:

“I’m down. Let’s do this.”

From Jungkook.

Your eyes widen. Then you let out a scream of excitement, tossing your phone into the air before rolling around in Hoseok’s blankets like a maniac. Tomorrow is going to be insane.

Chapter 4: The One That Got Away

“How’d you sleep?” Hoseok asks, setting scrambled eggs with garlic toast on the table in front of you before rushing back to the stove. He turns it off just in time to save the bacon from burning.

One thing you’ve always admired is Hoseok’s cooking skills—they’re insanely impressive. Even when you’re not hungry, the smell of garlic bread, fluffy eggs, and spicy bacon is enough to flip the switch in your stomach.

“Terrible. I kept staring at the closet door cracks,” you mumble, shoving a big bite of eggs into your mouth before sipping the orange juice he’d set down for you.

Hoseok snorts.

“Why is that funny? I heard you screaming at 3 a.m.,” you shoot back, unbothered. His laugh stops, his smile faltering.

“Yah! I got up to pee. I was half asleep and seeing things,” he says, trying to play it cool. But you already know the truth—he left his lights on all night. You’d noticed when you got up for water.

You decide not to embarrass him. After all, he made you breakfast.

“Whatever you say,” you mumble just loud enough for him to hear, letting out a dramatic sigh for extra effect.

Before he can fire back, your phone buzzes on the table. Normally, you wouldn’t care who it was this early, but this time it’s Jungkook. Since he’s the one helping you sneak into this whole trip mess, you don’t waste a second opening his text.

“Be ready by 6 p.m. Bonfire night starts at 10. It’s an hour drive, but I’m trying to get there early.”

You want to scold him—leaving four hours early when everyone’s meant to gather at 10? Seriously? But he’s already doing you a huge favor, something he doesn’t even need to do. You shut your mouth and simply like the message.

“Here’s my address. Pick me up from here,” you send quickly.

His reply comes instantly:
“Thought you were meeting me at mine. Do I really have to pick you up?”

You roll your eyes, practically hearing the cocky tone bleeding through his words. Typing aggressively, you fire back:

“Yes. You are picking me up. 😊”

The sarcastic smiley is the cherry on top.

“Hobi, I love you, but I have to go to work early today,” you say, shoving a piece of garlic bread into your mouth.

Hoseok frowns at your last-minute rush, his expression screaming Why?

“Boss chewed me out for being late yesterday,” you explain quickly. “She texted me to check in early today.”

You dart into his bathroom, throwing on your work clothes, and rush back out. After giving him a quick hug and shoving your feet into your shoes, you make for the door.

“At least finish your breakfast!” Hoseok yells.

“I did! I can’t eat more!” you shout back.

“Okay—well, take care and don’t overwork yourself,” he calls after you, softening.

You grin. “Love you!”

He flashes you a heart with his fingers.

“What the actual hell,” Leah says on the phone the second you call her. “You want me to tell the boss you got COVID so you can take a week off starting today?”

“Exactly that, babe,” you reply, glancing at the road while driving. In reality, you weren’t sick at all — you just needed an excuse to skip work and get home to pack for the trip without Hoseok knowing.

“You’ve lost your mind. If we get caught lying, we’re both fired—and you’re finding me a new job!” she shrieks through the speaker, making you turn the volume down.

“Trust me,” you say, maybe a little too confidently, “I’ll find you a job within twenty-four hours.”

By the time you pull into your driveway, your mind is spinning with excuses, clothes, and worst-case scenarios. You rush inside and start throwing things into a bag: clothes for the trip, snacks for the car, shorts for camping, sweatpants in case it gets cold, shirts and tops, bracelets and necklaces, hiking shoes, toothbrush, cap, and swimsuit just in case there’s a lake nearby.

Finally, you let out a deep breath and crash on the couch, exhausted from the speed-packing. Just when you think you can breathe for two seconds, the doorbell rings.

“Ughhh,” you groan, forcing yourself up. You drag your feet to the door and swing it open.

“Surprise?”

It’s Taehyung, standing there like he owns the place, one brow raised, the most relaxed look on his face. He’s in casual baggy blue jeans and a white compression shirt that defines every muscle perfectly.

You can’t help it—you squeal.

“Tae!” you exclaim, throwing yourself into his arms. He hugs you back right away, his relaxed face melting into his iconic boxy smile.

“How come you decided to visit me today?” you ask, watching Taehyung lounging on your couch and playing with your cat, Pumpkin.

He pauses, glancing up at you. “I thought about the whole trip thing. I didn’t want to go at first, but now… thinking about all the drama I might miss by not going makes me want to.” He shrugs, deadpan.

“And here I thought you missed me,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Oh yeah, I miss when you were a baby and couldn’t talk,” he replies, making your jaw drop. You hurl a pillow at him, which he catches effortlessly.

“Asshole,” you mouth. He flips you a middle finger in response.

“Come help me pack,” you say, kicking him lightly. He’s now lazily lying on his stomach, scrolling through his DMs.

“Didn’t you already pack it all?” he groans, putting his phone down and dragging himself to the living room where you’re standing, hands on your hips.

“You can’t be serious,” he says, eyes wide at the sight of your mountain of bags.

“What??” you ask, pretending to be shocked.

“That is a makeup bag? Why is it so huge? And that’s for snacks? What are you feeding everyone on this trip? And those clothes… are those for you or ten other people?” he says, exaggerating dramatically.

You squint at him.

“Okay, fine. Come here.”

He chuckles, pulls you into a hug, and then effortlessly carries the bags to the front door, leaving them there for when Jungkook arrives so you can easily load them into his car trunk.

“That’s what I thought,” you jokingly mumble, making him shoot you a challenging look that screams: I’ll put the bags back where they were, and you’ll HAVE to carry them this time.

You burst into laughter. “I’m going to shower before leaving,” you say, heading back inside your room, Taehyung following.

“When are we leaving?” he asks.

“We?” you look at him, blinking.

“You’re coming with me and Jungkook in the same car?”

“Yes? Unless you two want to… you know… and don’t want me there,” he says, making you gasp, hand covering your mouth.

“What? Absolutely not! Never!” you exclaim, trying to sound scandalized. You don’t tell him about the fact that, well… you were all over him two nights ago, drunk. Jungkook is insanely attractive, so you figure Taehyung would understand the drunk Y/N logic.

Looking at the clock in your room, it’s 3 PM. You still have two hours before you need to start getting ready.

“How about…” you say, walking toward your comfy bed and plopping down. “We watch Harry Potter.”

Taehyung nods instantly, crawling onto the bed next to you and tossing the remote in your direction.

“Wait!” he says dramatically. “It’s a crime to turn on the TV without having snacks.”

He quickly hops off the bed, makes a beeline for the kitchen, and comes back with his hands full of ice cream and chips. You laugh in disbelief, but honestly… he’s not wrong.

Thirty minutes later, both of you are snoring. The sugar from the ice cream hit harder than expected, and you’re asleep like you’ve never slept before. Taehyung is curled up with Pumpkin, and you’re cuddling the melted ice cream pint. Some crushed barbecue chips are scattered on the bed, and Harry Potter is still playing in the background.

The sight of the melted ice cream pint and the scattered barbecue chips makes your eyes widen. You quickly sit up, slightly panicked, realizing just how cozy—and chaotic—your nap turned out to be.

Turning to see Taehyung sleeping like a baby, you can’t help but smile quietly.

“Did I really fall asleep?” you mumble, yawning and stretching, swinging your legs off the bed.

“Needed that nap. Tonight’s going to be fun,” you say to yourself as you walk to the bathroom. A hot shower after a perfect nap? Absolutely the perfect combination.

You hop into the shower, silently praying Taehyung is awake by the time you’re done—or else he’ll definitely blame you for not waking him. The warm water hits your skin, instantly relaxing you, and you let out a soft sigh. The rose-scented shampoo lathers through your brown hair, the scent filling the steamy bathroom.

When you’re done, you grab the towel hanging nearby and wrap it around your hair before slipping into your bathrobe and comfy slippers. Stepping out of the bathroom, you immediately spot Taehyung still sprawled across your bed, dead asleep.

“Tae,” you call out, rummaging around for your moisturizer and face primer.

No response.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, a little louder. Still nothing.

“Kim Taehyung!” you yell, making him jolt upright like he’s been electrocuted.

“Fuck!” he groans, glaring at you with half-shut eyes. “You could’ve said that nicely.”

You just grin, finally pulling your makeup bag out from under a pile of clothes, completely ignoring the way you nearly gave him a heart attack.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” he complains when you don’t answer.

“Get the hell out of my bed and get ready,” you snap, tossing one of Hoseok’s shirts at him. He dodges it with a groan, dragging himself off the mattress like it weighs ten tons. He shuffles toward the living room where his bag is, pulling out clothes with the energy of a man twice his age.

Meanwhile, you start on your makeup. You’ve always been a “less is more” type—foundation, concealer, a hint of blush, mascara, eyeliner, and lip gloss. Just enough to brighten you up without feeling overdone.

When you step into the living room, you find him again—this time slumped on the couch, eyes closed, looking seconds away from passing out.

“Are you serious?” you say in disbelief. You grab the towel from your hair and throw it at his face.

He stirs but doesn’t move.

“Did you seriously not sleep last night?” you scold, yanking at his arm until he gets up. He barely opens his eyes as you drag him toward the upstairs bathroom, practically sleepwalking at this point.

After finally convincing Taehyung to get dressed, you slip into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black bodysuit with a V-shaped neckline that lifts and frames your chest perfectly. You clasp a silver necklace around your neck, slide a few rings onto your fingers, and begin blow-drying your hair. Once it’s dry enough but still slightly damp, you stop to let it air-dry naturally, spritzing a soft hair mist through the strands. Next, you reach for your Victoria’s Secret Love Spell Starlet lotion, smoothing it across your skin before layering it with the matching body mist. A touch of body oil behind your ears, on your wrists, and even your belly button leaves a glowing finish. After putting in your nose ring, you step back and admire yourself in the mirror—you look gorgeous, and you know it.

When you open the door, Taehyung is standing there in his cream-colored knit sweater with loose sleeves, light blue straight-leg jeans, and that boxy smile that never fails to make you grin back. You grab your phone to message Jungkook but are interrupted by a text: “I’m here.”

“Let’s go,” you tell Taehyung, who bends down to give Pumpkin a final kiss before the two of you grab your bags and head outside.

Jungkook is leaning against his sleek black Mercedes-Benz, arms crossed, one leg casually hooked over the other. He wears black shorts and a tight compression shirt that clings to his frame, every line of his biceps and shoulders on full display—his body a clear testament to the hours he spends working out. His eyes are sharp, expression cold, though the corner of his mouth lifts briefly when he sees you. But when his gaze shifts to Taehyung walking beside you, the smile falters. He’s not upset, just… caught off guard. Jungkook hadn’t been told anyone else was coming, and he doesn’t know who Taehyung is—so naturally, confusion flickers across his face.

You pause. “Oh—this is Taehyung, my friend. He’ll be coming with us. You don’t mind, right?”

For a moment, Jungkook is quiet, still processing. Then he gives a short nod. “Not at all.” His voice is calm, even, as he steps forward to open the trunk, taking your bags without another word.

You smile faintly at his rare kindness, pretending not to notice the heavy silence that lingers between the two men as if they’re already sizing each other up.

“Thank you sooo much,” you say once you’re settled in the passenger seat, fastening your belt as Jungkook starts the car. His eyes stay trained on the road, but he spares you a quick glance, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smile.

“Yeah, no problem,” he replies, voice casual.

You turn slightly to check on Taehyung in the backseat, only to catch him glaring at the two of you with a disgusted look. It makes you scoff quietly—nothing even happened besides you thanking Jungkook.

“Can we play some music?” Taehyung cuts in, his tone sharp enough to slice through the air. Jungkook doesn’t react, just hands his phone back without a word.

The music that fills the car is soft, low enough that you and Jungkook can still talk over it. His voice comes again after a few minutes, steady, quiet.

“How do you feel?” he asks, still focused on the road.

You take a small breath. “Nervous,” you admit, “but excited to see him.” Your mind wanders briefly to the possibilities of what might happen, your chest tightening with both anticipation and fear.

Jungkook nods once, acknowledging your words, but doesn’t push further. His silence is puzzling. The night he stayed with you when you were drunk, his energy had been light, playful—you’d bickered and teased until you were laughing too hard to breathe. Now, in the sober clarity of the car ride, he feels different. Not cold exactly, but reserved. Stoic. A quiet sort of manliness that makes you wonder which version of him is real—the warm boy who teased you that night, or the unreadable one sitting beside you now.

Not that it really matters—you’re not planning on being friends with Jungkook anyway. At best, the two of you will only ever be acquaintances. Or so you tell yourself.

The rest of the drive passes with Taehyung in control of the music, the two of you bickering in the back-and-forth way only close friends can. Every so often, your banter pulls a laugh out of Jungkook, low and unexpected, as he maneuvers the car through the streets.

When he finally parks, the three of you unload the bags together. Jungkook opens the trunk, pulling some of the weight onto his shoulders with practiced ease. “The entrance is this way,” he says, placing a steady hand on your lower back to guide you forward. The touch jolts your memory—just like that night at the club, when his hand had pressed you through the crowd, protective and firm.

“We’re supposed to sign in here,” he explains as he leads both you and Taehyung toward a table where two women are seated, registration sheets spread out in front of them.

“Kim Taehyung,” Taehyung says easily, leaning forward to write his name and number down. One of the women, however, doesn’t even pretend to hide her wandering gaze. Her eyes sweep straight to Jungkook, shamelessly drinking in the outline of his chest beneath the compression shirt.

“You can come here,” she says sweetly, a smile curling at her lips as she gestures him over.

Jungkook glances at her, the corner of his mouth tugging up in polite acknowledgment, but his eyes flick back to you almost immediately. He waits for you to move with him, making sure you’re by his side as he steps closer to the table—subtle, but clear. He brought you here, and in his mind, that makes you his responsibility.

His thumb brushes idly over his lip piercing, a casual habit, but it only makes the woman’s stare sharpen with hunger. “What’s your name and phone number?” she asks, voice dripping with interest.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he replies smoothly, his voice low enough to make her flush as she scribbles down the details, her expression all but screaming you’re so hot

“Cottage Four,” the woman says with a smile, sliding a keycard across the table. Her gaze lingers on Jungkook a beat too long before she tilts her head. “You’re not sharing with anyone, right?”

Jungkook looks at her, expression flat, lips pressed together in that way he does when he’s about to answer seriously. His eyes flick to you briefly—so quick you almost miss it—before he replies, voice even.

“I’ll be sharing with her.”

For a moment, your breath hitches. You hadn’t expected that. Honestly, you assumed he’d put you in your own cottage, maybe even insist on paying for it himself. Sharing with him wasn’t even an option that crossed your mind, but here he is, stating it as fact.

The woman’s smile falters instantly. Her eyes dart to you, her tone losing its warmth as quickly as it had appeared. You try to meet her look with a polite smile, but it feels awkward under the weight of her sudden disinterest. She’s stunning—long caramel-blonde hair with bangs that frame her face, a fitted sleeveless top with a cherry print hugging her torso, paired with a skirt that shows off endless legs. Gorgeous and unbothered, at least until Jungkook made his choice.

“What’s your name?” she asks you, her voice clipped now, stripped of the flirtation she’d poured into Jungkook.

“Y/N,” you answer softly. She doesn’t even bother writing it down.

Instead, she pushes both keycards across the table. “Here. For the door.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook says smoothly, his lips quirking into a polite smile as he takes the cards. The woman waves at him on their way out, the flirt back in her eyes as if you don’t exist. He humors her with a small smile, nothing more.

You notice Taehyung on the other side of the registration table, already done signing in and chatting with people he knows from college. You’re reminded again how you don’t belong to that world—this is their college’s retreat, their circle. Guests are allowed, sure, but the unspoken rule is clear: as long as you pay for a cottage, no one really cares who you sneak in. Profit over rules, always.

You glance over at Taehyung, who’s chatting casually with someone nearby. When his eyes meet yours for a moment, you give him a quick smile to signal you’re fine. He flashes you a thumbs up before turning back to his conversation.

Your focus shifts when you hear Jungkook snort. He’s staring at the back of the key card, where the girl from registration had scribbled her number. He doesn’t look surprised in the slightest—just mildly amused, like this is a routine occurrence. Definitely not the first time he’s been approached that way.

“It’s this one!” you call, spotting the sign for Cottage Four.

Jungkook nods, handing you the card. “Here. You open it.”

You press the card to the scanner, and the door clicks open. The sight that greets you makes your eyes widen. The cottage is huge—two bedrooms, a spacious living room, sleek furniture that screams luxury. You shouldn’t be surprised, not when Jungkook booked the VIP option—the most expensive one—but still, seeing it in person hits different.

He lets out a heavy breath, dropping both your bags in the middle of the living room before collapsing onto the couch like it belongs to him. You stand there awkwardly for a beat, then wander off to peek into the rooms, curiosity buzzing through you.

The rooms are decently big, each with a queen-sized bed, a TV, and a small two-seater couch. A glass table with chairs sits by a massive sliding window—big enough to step outside if you want.

Curious, you push the curtains aside and peek out. People are already arriving—some guys marinating meat for barbecue, girls setting up seats on the grass for the bonfire, others chatting in little groups.

“I don’t see him,” you whisper under your breath, thinking of Jimin.

When you turn around, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest—you bump straight into a solid wall of muscle. Well, not a wall. Jungkook’s chest.

He stands there with his hands in his pockets, head tilted, lips pursed like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Hey!” you shout, startled.

He raises a brow.

“What are you doing?!” you shout again, voice going up an octave.

“I should be the one asking you that—creep,” he teases, backing away with a smirk.

“Yah! How am I a creep?!” you demand, hurrying after him.

“I don’t see him,” he mimics your earlier whisper, his tone mocking. “Stalker vibes.”

Your jaw drops. “Hey! I was talking about Jimin—I mean, not that I care, but—”

Before you can finish, he shuts the door right in your face.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you scream, pounding your fist lightly against the wood. His muffled laugh seeps through from the other side, smug and irritating, which only makes your blood boil hotter.

Jungkook had been holed up in his room doing god knows what. After twenty minutes, you’ve had enough.

“I’m going outside!” you shout loud enough for him to hear through the closed door.

The second you step out of the cottage, a fresh breeze brushes your skin, and you inhale deeply. The air smells earthy and crisp, a stark contrast to your usual city nights. Despite being a party girl at heart, you can’t help but admit the view is gorgeous—trees wrapped in glowing yellow string lights, cottages lined with soft lanterns, and in the middle, the bonfire crackling to life. The faint smoke lingers in the air, mixing with the bass from the speakers blasting music.

Couples are already making out near the trees, laughter erupts from groups reuniting after college, and strangers mingle like they’ve known each other forever. The whole scene feels alive.

You stretch your arms, letting the breeze hit you again, before spotting Taehyung. You stroll over and casually snatch the drink from his hand, taking a sip.

“Lemonade? Seriously?” you snort.

He frowns. “Miss Alcoholic can’t drink anything besides liquor?”

Your jaw drops, and you roll your eyes dramatically. “Wow.”

“Have you run into Hoseok yet?” he asks suddenly.

The mention of Hoseok makes your eyes widen. “No, not yet.”

“Well, guess who I have seen.”

Your head tilts in curiosity. “Who?”

“Park Jimin.”

The name drops like a stone in your stomach, your chest tightening instantly.

“Where?” you ask, and Taehyung just smirks, stepping aside.

That’s when you see him.

Park Jimin. The man you had dated for two years.

He’s sitting on a wooden chair across from another guy, the bonfire blazing between them. His blonde hair glows under the string lights, his black-rimmed glasses making his eyes stand out as he laughs, eyes curving into crescents. A black sweater, black shorts, a watch glinting on his wrist—he looks effortlessly put together, like he doesn’t even have to try. When he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face, everything around you fades into silence.

“Okay. This is it. I need to approach him.”

Your feet move before your brain can catch up, carrying you closer. “Jim—” you start to call, but your voice cuts off when a firm hand suddenly grabs your waist.

You stumble back against a broad, muscular chest, your head bumping into solid warmth.

“What the hell?!” you snap, looking up—only to freeze.

Jeon Jungkook.

Chapter 5: Lines We Won’t Cross

You stare at the man in front of you in disbelief. What the hell was Jeon Jungkook thinking—grabbing your waist and yanking you aside just when you were about to approach Jimin?

“What the heck was that about?” you shout, his grip loosening until his hands fall back to his sides. His expression is maddeningly calm.

“You were about to call his name,” he says simply.

You scoff. “Uh, yeah? That was literally the point!”

“What are you trying to prove here?” you demand, arms crossing tightly over your chest. You sneak a glance back at Jimin, who’s still seated by the bonfire, laughing with the guy next to him like nothing happened.

When you look back at Jungkook, you’re met with the same relaxed face—except now he’s tugged off his beanie, running a hand through his dark brown hair before exhaling slowly.

“You’ve either officially lost your mind or you’re extremely stupid,” he says flatly.

Your jaw drops. “No—if anyone’s lost their mind, it’s you, Jeon fucking Jungkook! What were you thinking, pulling me aside like that? I was about to talk to Jimin!”

“Yeah,” he shoots back instantly, “you were about to talk to your ex who dumped you. And say what? ‘Hey, I came all the way on this trip to beg you to date me again—or desperately ask for closure’?”

The way he mocks your voice makes your chest tighten. Ouch. It stings, mostly because it’s true.

“So what are you trying to say?” you snap, raising a brow.

“Come here.”

Before you can protest, Jungkook grabs your hand and starts walking—no, dragging—you toward the bonfire. Your eyes widen in shock, his grip firm and unyielding as your feet scramble to keep up.

Right in front of the flames, you freeze. Jimin finally looks up at the sudden interruption, clearly not expecting you. His laughter dies mid-breath, his smile fading into a startled frown. His eyes widen slightly, confusion flickering across his face as he takes you in.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you immediately avert your gaze, avoiding his stare like it burns. You nudge Jungkook’s shoulder harshly. “What the heck are you doing?” you hiss.

He flashes you the fakest, sweetest smile ever, slightly leaning in “Baby, don’t worry—you look perfect. Gorgeous, actually.” he says out loud, voice dripping with fake affection.

Your frown deepens. “Are you insane?” you whisper furiously, looking anywhere but at Jimin.

“Shut up and play along,” Jungkook mutters, still wearing that sugar-coated smile. “You wanted his attention, right? Well, you’ve got it. He’s staring holes into us. If you’d approached him like a loser, he would’ve treated you like one.”

Against your will, your eyes flick toward Jimin. Sure enough, he’s staring—hard. His jaw is tight, his expression far from pleased.

The embarrassment prickling under your skin mixes with something else—something that makes your pulse quicken. You don’t understand how or why Jungkook thought of this insane plan so quickly, but one thing’s clear: it’s working.

“Oh, how about we sit here?” you ask, smiling as you grab his strong, muscular arms. He grins, and you both lower yourselves onto the grass, right across from Jimin and his friend.

Jimin’s friend looks at him, clearly confused by the tension radiating off him. “Yah, what’s up with you?” he asks.

Jimin finally glances away, replying with a clipped, “Nothing.” But his gaze keeps flicking back to you and Jungkook, who are holding hands on the grass.

Noticing your focus on Jimin, Jungkook smirks and casually tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, redirecting your attention to him. Leaning in close—close enough that anyone watching might think he’s about to kiss you—he whispers, “You’re terrible at acting.”

“You fucker! Do I look like an actress?” you retort, running a hand over his arm.

He smirks wider, the tip of his tongue brushing his lip piercing. “With those skills? You’ll never be one.”

You resist the urge to smack him—thankfully, Jimin is still watching.

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice pulls your attention. You turn to see your best friend, Jung Hoseok, standing there, eyes wide, clearly caught off guard by the sight of you and Jungkook sitting so close, your head just moments ago resting on his shoulder.

“Hobi,” you whisper, too low for anyone else to hear.

“Jeon Jungkook?” another voice calls—Namjoon—stepping closer with a frown of confusion.

Both Hoseok and Namjoon are processing what they see. Hoseok, especially, looks more surprised that you’re even here.

“What’s going on?” Hoseok asks, with a frown on his face.

You instinctively glance toward Jimin across the bonfire. Your stomach twists. He’s looking, but the second your eyes meet, he quickly looks away.

Hoseok notices. Your subtle shift, the slight embarrassment on your face, doesn’t escape him. Without knowing the full story, he jumps in to save the situation.

“What are you two lovebirds doing here, leaving us all alone?” Hoseok says loudly, mock-offended, giving you the perfect cover.

Jungkook, unfazed, shoots Namjoon a look only an older brother could understand. Namjoon picks up on it immediately.

“Yeah, we’ve been looking for you guys for a while now,” Namjoon says smoothly, backing Hoseok up.

You let out a tiny sigh of relief.

“Hyung, you know I want Y/N all to myself,” Jungkook says effortlessly, the casual delivery making your cheeks warm. Any other girl here would have been flustered, asking, What are we?

You steal a quick glance at Jimin. He’s watching, but the moment he sees you notice him, he looks away, slightly flustered.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?!” Hoseok yells, pacing back and forth. After saving you from embarrassment in front of Jimin, you and Hoseok had made your way back to your cottage, and now he was making up for lost time with a barrage of questions.

“No, why didn’t you tell me Jimin was on this trip? There’s no way you didn’t know—you told Taehyung!” you fire back.

Hoseok freezes for a second, caught off guard.

“Yah, because…” he trails off.

“Because what?” you press, frowning.

“Because I knew you’d want to come,” he says finally, softer now. “I was just trying to protect you from that asshole. I know you’re not over him.”

Your features soften for a moment, touched by his concern—but then he snaps back into yelling mode.

“But you, on the other hand, would rather ask Jungkook to bring you here than just talk to me! The jerk I’ve been trying to protect you from—and you’ve apparently been trying to see him again!” he blurts, glaring at you.

“I am communicating right now, aren’t I?” you say, raising a brow. “And I can come here with whoever I want, for whatever reason.” You fold your arms, trying to sound cool despite knowing you probably look a little stubborn.

You know Hoseok is only trying to watch out for you, but what you do with Jimin is your business—and besides, he hid something from you first.

“And about the fake dating—yeah, I need to talk to Jungkook about that,” you continue. “I was caught off guard, but I played along because I noticed it hit Jimin’s nerve.”

Hoseok sighs, shaking his head.

“Do whatever,” he mutters, storming outside the door.

You scoff, crossing your arms. Seriously? Running away now?

The door opens, revealing Jungkook, who glances at you briefly.

“He stormed out of here,” he says, making you lift your head from your hand.

“I need to talk to you,” you say calmly. He nods and sinks onto the couch beside you.

“What was that outside? Why did you help me get his attention?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He shrugs. “I know you want him back—”

“That depends on why he broke up with me in the first place,” you cut him off.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. But the last thing I’d want to see is anyone embarrass themselves in front of their ex. And that’s exactly what you were about to do.”

You nod, understanding.

“My plan was to help you get what you wanted… but in a way that makes you look superior. Since we’re here for a week, by the end of it, he’ll definitely approach you.”

You can’t help but admit—this guy is smart. You never would’ve thought of a plan like this.

“What if he asks about you after he approaches me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook chuckles. “Then it’s up to you if you want to tell him the truth about us ‘fake dating’… or not.”

You reach a hand out. “Okay, Jeon Jungkook. I’m in for this fake dating thing. Are you?”

He snorts. “Haven’t I made it obvious that I am?”

“Yah, stop being a jerk for once.”

That only makes him grin as he takes your hand. “I’m in.”

Moments later, he stares at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Are you serious right now?”

You’re holding a notebook and pen, making a table of Do’s and Don’ts.

“Not my problem you’re not taking it seriously,” you shoot back.

“How many times do I have to tell you I am?” he groans, dropping his head back against the couch.

You laugh—until a thought suddenly wipes the smile off your face. “Wait… does this mean we’re gonna have to kiss in front of people? To make it look real?”

That gets his attention. He snaps his head toward you. “I mean… yeah? Do you not kiss the person you’re dating?” His voice is so casual, like he’s stating a fact, but it makes your stomach flip.

Of course he’s kissed plenty of people. He’s Jeon Jungkook. And sure, you’ve had your share of party nights, but nowhere near him. The idea of kissing him… it makes your chest tighten. Not because you like him, you remind yourself, but because he’s stupidly good-looking.

“So…” you clear your throat, surprising even yourself with the words that come out. “Should we… practice?”

His reaction? A shrug. Completely unfazed. “I don’t mind. As long as you’re comfortable.”

So nonchalant. Like kissing him would be no big deal. Meanwhile, your pulse is already racing. You remind yourself it’s just a kiss. Just like back in your party days. Except this time, it’s Jungkook. And that changes everything.

To be honest, it feels weird—your heart is still tangled up in Jimin. But if this really makes him believe you and Jungkook are together, maybe it’ll finally get a reaction out of him. That thought alone steadies you.

“Okay, perfect then. Let’s do it,” you say, forcing your voice to sound as casual as his. You sit across from him, facing him, and let out a nervous chuckle. “This is so awkward.”

Jungkook doesn’t laugh. He just watches you with those dark, steady eyes. He doesn’t need you to admit you’re nervous—he can already tell. His hand brushes along your arm, tracing your skin lightly before gripping just enough to pull you forward. Suddenly, you’re in his lap, gasping as you nearly lose your balance.

“Jungkook—”

His other hand presses firmly against the small of your back, steadying you with ease. His voice drops low, almost a whisper. “It’s that easy.”

Your breath catches. You keep your eyes on your lap, but then he says, firm and soft, “Look at me.”

You do. And the way his gaze flickers to your lips makes your heart race harder than you’d like to admit. His eyes dip even lower for a second before rising back to meet yours, daring you to keep going.

Your hands move instinctively to his arms, gripping the solid muscle of his biceps. He gives a single nod—permission, encouragement, both. You shift slightly, wrapping your legs around his sides, the heat between you growing unbearable.

Then you lean in, and his hand tightens at your hip just as your lips meet his.

The kiss is soft at first—tentative, testing. Your nerves make you hesitate, but Jungkook doesn’t. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss with a slow, deliberate press that steals your breath. His lips are warm, steady, confident, and it’s impossible not to melt into him.

You clutch his arms tighter, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor yourself. He takes it as encouragement, his thumb brushing along your waist while his other hand stays firm against your back, holding you closer than you expected.

His hands slip lower, gripping you in a way that makes you gasp against his mouth. Wasn’t this supposed to be just a kiss? The thought flickers through your head, but you don’t pull away. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this kind of rush, and your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

You slowly pull away, a thin trail of saliva still connecting your lips, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. A smile tugs at your mouth—you can’t deny it, that was one hell of a make-out session. Maybe the best you’ve ever had, if you’re being brutally honest.

Jungkook’s breathing is just as ragged, his eyes glinting with amusement as he lets out a low chuckle at your messy, flushed face. You look like sin, and he knows it.

“That was… fun,” you admit, the nervous edge finally gone.

“It was good,” he agrees, and the casual compliment somehow makes you feel proud.

Finally climbing off his lap, you drop onto the couch beside him, both of you still catching your breath.
“You’re a great kisser,” Jungkook says, lips tugging into a faint smile.

You grin but can’t resist the sarcasm. “Wish I could say the same about you.”

He only chuckles, totally unbothered. Of course he knows he’s a great kisser—you can see it in the smug tilt of his head, the way your words don’t even scratch his ego.

As you stand to head toward your room, a sharp smack lands on your ass. You whirl around with a glare, only to find him wearing that cocky half-smile.
“Watch what you say to me,” he teases.

You snatch the nearest pillow and hurl it at him, but he catches it easily, grinning wider. When he suddenly gets up from the couch, you squeal and sprint to your room, laughing as you slam the door shut behind you, leaving him grinning on the other side.

This college reunion is no joke—by 12 a.m., the night is still young. Everyone’s outside eating s’mores and barbecue, laughter carrying through the cool air. The smell of food is what finally drags you out of your room. You’ve changed into blue shorts and a sleeveless white top, your hair now in two braids.

“Fuck,” you hiss under your breath as you touch your swollen lips. That makeout session with Jungkook—unholy as it was—left its mark. You can’t deny it turned you on. After dabbing lip balm on your lips and smoothing lotion into your skin, you slip on your shoes and step outside.

The vibe has shifted—music plays slower now, couples swaying together beneath string lights. You settle onto the grass, soaking in the view. It stings a little, watching the couples—it could’ve been you and Jimin if he hadn’t ended things.

But your thoughts vanish when a hand appears in front of you.
“Dance?”

You look up. Jungkook stands there, head tilted, lips pressed together in a straight line as he waits.

Your eyes flick toward Jimin across the way. He’s with his friends, but you catch the quick way his gaze snaps to you—and lingers. If you go up there with Jungkook, he’ll notice.

“Of course,” you murmur, slipping your hand into Jungkook’s.

He guides you to the center, one hand settling on your hip, the other entwining with yours. You step closer, maybe closer than necessary—and one quick glance at Jimin confirms it: he’s watching.

Dancing with Jungkook, your face is so close to his you can’t help glancing at his lips. Your mind betrays you with flashes of your earlier kiss.
“Kiss me,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth curves into a knowing grin. Without hesitation, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. Both of your lips move in sync, natural, unhurried—perfectly timed.

Your hands slide up, tangling in his hair, tugging gently. His hand drifts lower, finding its way to your ass as the kiss deepens just enough to make your pulse race. When he finally pulls back, his lips are still curved in that cocky grin, but his eyes stay locked on yours—intense, unwavering.

And across the firelit yard, Jimin is still watching. His smile fades, shoulders stiffening, guilt flickering across his features before he quickly looks down at his drink. It’s not just jealousy—it’s the weight of knowing he’s the reason you’re in someone else’s arms.

Once the song ends, you and Jungkook slowly step apart. “I’m gonna grab something to eat,” you tell him. He offers to get it for you, but you shake your head.

At the food stall, you pile a slice of pizza, barbecue wings, and a Sprite onto your tray. Taking a bite of the pizza as you stand nearby, you glance back. Jungkook’s already talking to Namjoon, the two laughing at something only brothers would find funny. Not far away, Hoseok is chatting with a girl—his eyes briefly flick up to meet yours before quickly darting away. You scoff under your breath. Taehyung is nowhere in sight, and you’re about to text him when someone steps directly into your space.

You look up. Park Jimin.

He’s casually making his plate, grabbing pizza and fries, but the air between you is anything but casual. You shift slightly, ready to walk away, when his voice—soft, almost too familiar—stops you.
“You don’t have to go. I’ll leave as soon as I’m done.”

Your throat tightens. “No, it’s fine,” you reply, biting into your pizza again, trying to play it off.

He smiles faintly at your awkwardness, the kind of smile that used to undo you. For a split second, it almost feels like old times.

Then—
“Babe, I’ve been looking for you.”

Jungkook’s low, confident voice cuts through as his hand slides against your lower back, heat rushing up your spine. Jimin’s faint smile instantly vanishes, his shoulders stiffening.

“You good?” Jungkook asks, looking down at you.

You force a nod, managing a small smile.

Jimin clears his throat, grabbing his plate. “You two have fun,” he mutters before walking off quickly, his jaw tight.

The moment he’s out of earshot, Jungkook smirks, stealing your pizza right from your hand and taking a bite.
“He’s jealous,” he teases through a grin.

Normally, you’d snap at him for stealing your food. But Jimin was jealous—and thanks to Jungkook, you can’t help but grin too.

“Everyone, may I get your attention!”
The same lady from registration—the one who couldn’t stop flirting with Jungkook—taps the mic, her voice echoing across the camp. Her gaze sweeps the crowd, pausing just long enough on Jungkook to smile before it hardens the second her eyes flick to you.

“Tomorrow at 12 p.m., we’ll be going on the hiking trip,” she announces brightly. “Since it’s almost 1 a.m. now, we’ll start late. So get your beauty rest!”

A wave of cheers and laughter ripples through the crowd before people go back to their food, dancing, and conversations.

Later, back in your cottage, the energy feels quieter, more private. You and Jungkook sit cross-legged on the floor, a bowl between you filled with folded slips of paper.

“Okay,” you say, picking up the bowl with a grin, “let’s get to know each other.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Didn’t we already?”

“Not enough to pull off being a couple,” you counter, shaking the bowl. “This is serious. Every chit has a question. No skipping.”

He smirks, leaning back with his arms crossed like he’s already planning to break the rules. “What if the questions are… too personal?”

“That’s the point,” you shoot back. “If we’re gonna convince people we’re dating, we need to know the little details too. Fake boyfriend, fake girlfriend 101.”

Jungkook sighs dramatically but leans forward anyway, his hand dipping into the bowl. “Fine. But if I pull out something stupid, like ‘what’s your favorite color,’ don’t blame me for walking out.”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up and pick.”

“What’s the last lie you told?” Jungkook reads aloud. Without hesitation, he smirks and says, “That I’m your boyfriend.”

You scoff. That was way too easy. “Fine, my turn.” You grab the bowl, pull out a chit, and read it. “Where do you like to be kissed the most?”

Heat creeps up your face immediately, and Jungkook notices. His lips curl. “Tell me, Y/n… where do you like to be kissed the most?”

You hesitate, then meet his stare. “Neck… boobs… and lips.”

He leans back, smug. “Noted.”

You roll your eyes, tossing the bowl back at him. He draws the next chit. “Have you ever had a one-night stand?”

“Of course I have. These questions are boring,” he mutters, tossing the slip aside.

You pout dramatically, fishing another one out. When you read it, your cheeks burn. “When was the last time you came?”

Jungkook’s brows rise. His head tilts. “Now that’s interesting.”

You chew your lip, debating, but then shrug. “Honestly? I don’t even know. Jimin and I… we had a decent sex life. He’s good, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t always enjoy it. A lot of the time, I had to fake it.”

Jungkook studies you carefully, no teasing this time. “So what do you like?”

The directness of his tone makes your throat dry. “What?” you whisper.

“You heard me,” he presses, brow raised.

You lock eyes with him, deciding not to hold back. “Spanking.”

His expression stays unreadable, so you keep going. “Choking.”

His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“BDSM.”

His eyes darken as they hold yours.

“Rough… toys…” Your voice lowers.

A smirk finally tugs at his lips. “Is that it?”

You shake your head, shameless. “No. There’s more.”

He lets out a low laugh, running his tongue along his lip piercing. “I believe you.”

Your cheeks are red—Jungkook notices, of course.

“But yeah, sometimes it annoys me to think about how terrible my sex life is,” you admit. “I mean, now that I’m single, technically I can sleep with any guy I want. But am I actually attracted to them? Mostly it’s a no.” You yawn.

“So… you’re sexually frustrated,” he says casually.

You snort. “Unfortunately.” Reaching for the water bottle beside you, you unscrew the cap and take a sip.

“Let me help you,” he says suddenly.

You’re so caught off guard you choke, the water going up your nose. Coughing, you look at him wide-eyed, and he’s smirking, the corner of his lips lifting.

“What?” you whisper, still coughing.

“Are you attracted to me?” His voice is low, steady.

Is that even a real question? Who isn’t attracted to him? He’s insanely hot—any girl who says no would be lying. You give him a single nod.

“Then let me help you,” he repeats, this time even deeper, sending a shiver through you. Instinctively, your thighs press together.

“So… you mean friends with benefits? And fake dating at the same time?”

He nods without hesitation. “Exactly. No feelings. Just me helping you until you figure things out with Jimin. If you two get back together—we stop. If you start liking someone else—we stop. If you want to stop—we stop.”

He leans back slightly, his tone firm. “And the same rules apply to me.”

You can’t lie—the idea excites you. Standing up, you grab the same notebook from earlier and sit back down.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook raises a brow, watching as you quietly scribble. You ignore him until you’re done, then slide the book across the table.

He picks it up and starts reading aloud. “Friends with benefits rules: this will stay only between us.” He glances up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So… like our dirty little secret?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, and he chuckles at your silence before continuing. “If you like someone, tell the other person. No feelings at all. Don’t fall in love with me, Jungkook.”

He snorts, leaning back. “Might be the other way around if it ever happens.”

Your jaw drops. “Yah! Why would I fall for you!” you shout, frowning.

He just flips you off with a casual middle finger, making you gape at him even more.

Turning the page, he keeps reading. “Fake dating rules: when we’re around Jimin, act like a couple. But since Hoseok and Namjoon already know, we don’t have to act like a couple around them.”

He glances up at you again, his brow raised like he’s challenging you.

“I’m not reading more,” he says flatly, staring at the hundred other rules you’ve scribbled down.

“You’re an asshole,” you mutter, snatching at the book.

“So what are we even gonna call these dumb rules we already know?” he asks, sliding the notebook back toward you.

You grin, tapping the cover. “The rules of us.”

Chapter 6: Taste of Sin

“Wake the fuck up, lovebirds!” Taehyung screams outside the cottage door. You open it with a scowl.
“Lovebirds?” you echo, nose scrunched as you fake gag.

“Call us anything but that,” Jungkook mutters, stepping out of his room. He’s already dressed—black fitted performance tee, olive-green cargo joggers, trail sneakers, and a cap. Sleek but practical for hiking.

Taehyung closes the main door behind him, smirking.
“Oh, now you both hate it, but what was that outside last night?” He heads straight to the fridge for snacks.
“Ever heard of fake dating?” you shoot back with a plastic smile.
Taehyung bites into an apple, freezes, and glares at it. “Who the fuck puts apples in the fridge?” His disgust makes Jungkook laugh into his coffee.

“Yah, where are you getting all this information from anyway?” you shout. Taehyung wasn’t even there when most of it happened. God knows what he was doing.
“Hoseok,” he replies smoothly.

Instantly, the room shifts. You scoff. Jungkook slurps his coffee deliberately, the sound dragging through the silence as he raises his brows like he’s watching a drama unfold.

“Whatever,” you mutter. “Where were you yesterday?”
Taehyung smirks wider. “Met my ex from college. We were… reconnecting, you know.”
Jungkook snorts instantly, catching Taehyung’s dirty undertone. You just scrunch your nose.

“Nasty,” you mutter.

Jungkook’s phone buzzes, pulling him outside for a minute.

“So,” Taehyung leans in the second Jungkook’s gone, “how’s the fake dating going?”

You bite into one of the sandwiches you packed from home. “It’s going good. Why?” you answer through a mouthful.

Taehyung smirks. “How was the kiss?”

Your cheeks heat instantly. “Yah, shut up!” you snap, smacking his arm as he bursts into loud laughter.

“It’s almost twelve—we have to go hiking!” you say quickly, shoving the rest of the sandwich in your mouth and glaring at him.

Taehyung grabs his bag and opens the door—only for you both to stop dead.

Jungkook is outside. And so is she.

The registration girl.

They’re talking, but the second she notices you, her eyes roll so hard you swear you hear it.
“Bingo,” Taehyung mutters under his breath.

She’s dressed like she’s auditioning for a hiking commercial—tiny blue shorts, a white tank top, a chain hanging from her waist, hiking shoes, and her blonde hair in two bouncy ponytails under a cap.

“Oh hey,” she says, voice dripping with fake sweetness.

You force an awkward smile. “Hey.”

Jungkook clears his throat. “Nara came to call us for the hike.”

“Yes,” she beams at him, then quickly adds, “I personally came to call Jungkook… I mean, you guys.” Her smile falters as her eyes cut to you.

“Okay, let’s go.” You step forward and casually hold out your hand toward Jungkook. Time to act.

He catches on instantly, sliding his warm hand into yours.

Taehyung’s eyes sharpen, clearly savoring the look on Nara’s face as she stares at your intertwined hands.

When it came to hiking, you always kept it simple—black leggings, a loose white tank top, a cap, and a single ponytail. Barely any makeup. Comfortable but still cute.

“Okay, so each person has a member of our team going with them!” the woman on the mic announced. Nara, standing conveniently close to Jungkook, flashed him a sweet smile. He gave her a polite one back, nothing more.

“You get to choose who you want to be in your team for the hike!” the lady continued.

You glanced left at Jungkook, then right at Taehyung. Before you could decide, Taehyung called out, “Jung Hoseok, quit acting like a child and come here.”

Hoseok, who was standing with Namjoon across the way, froze. His eyes flicked to you before quickly looking away, the pettiness clear. You rolled your eyes. You weren’t immature enough to run away, so you stayed put. Hoseok clearly caught on, because after a beat, he sighed and walked toward your group.

“Yah, who are you calling a child? You’re younger than me,” he snapped, glaring at Taehyung.

Taehyung tried—and failed—not to laugh. Hoseok wasn’t joking. He was pissed.

“We’re ready!” Namjoon barked at the lady with the clipboard, who just gave a thumbs-up and wrote down your team’s names.

The sun was blazing down, burning into your skin. Beside you, Nara and Jungkook were chatting about something you didn’t even care to follow. What did worry you, though, was Jimin. Because if he saw Jungkook—your supposed boyfriend—too wrapped up with another girl, it could ruin the whole act.

And then you spotted him.

Jimin stood a little distance away with his group of friends—two guys and a girl. He looked annoyingly good in a loose white sleeveless tee, relaxed black shorts, sporty trainers, a bucket hat, and sunglasses. Casual but effortlessly cool.

When his eyes met yours, he smiled.

You couldn’t help but smile back.

“Okay guys, I’ll be the one going with y’all. If you need any assistance, let me know,” Nara announced, flashing a bright smile—mainly at Jungkook. When her gaze landed on you, the smile turned fake and forced. With the others she seemed fine. Whatever she had against you felt personal.

“Follow me!” she chirped, leading the group. Jimin’s team wasn’t too far behind; if you turned around, you could see him.

“Okay, so we’re all meeting at the top of the mountain. You’re allowed to explore this area as you go,” Nara explained, and everyone nodded.

“Kook, let’s go that way,” you said casually. Jungkook raised a brow at the nickname but played along, slipping his hand into yours as you started walking uphill together.

“It’s a long way,” you sighed.

“Give me that,” he said, taking your backpack—the one you’d been struggling with—and slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Thanks,” you muttered, and before you could say more he leaned down slightly.

“He’s watching,” Jungkook whispered, referring to Jimin behind you.

“Perfect,” you whispered back, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Look!” you gasped suddenly, stopping in your tracks. A blue butterfly had landed softly on your palm, wings delicate and glowing in the sunlight.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the sight, instantly reaching for the camera he’d bought for the trip. He raised it to capture the moment—

“Agh, ouch!”

The loud, exaggerated groan of pain cut through the air. The butterfly startled, flying away. Your smile instantly dropped.

Everyone’s attention turned to Nara, who was clutching her ankle dramatically, lowering herself to the ground.

Jungkook rushed over. “Are you okay?”

“It hurts,” she whimpered, shaking her head. “I can’t even walk.”

Without hesitation, Jungkook bent down and scooped her up bridal style. She looped her arms around his neck as he carried her back toward the cottage.

You just stood there, rooted to the spot, heat prickling at your skin—not just from the sun but from the stares. Hoseok. Taehyung. Namjoon. Jimin. Even Jimin’s friends. All of them watching. And you knew damn well they had to know you were Jimin’s ex. And now, your so-called boyfriend had just left you behind without a second thought.

Anger simmered inside you. Jungkook could do whatever he wanted—but he needed to take this act seriously. He couldn’t just drop the role whenever he felt like it.

Awkward silence stretched. You quickly blurted, “Taehyung! You missed it, there was this butterfly—so pretty, like, right on my hand—”

You knew he didn’t give a damn about butterflies. But Taehyung, bless him, caught on instantly. He ambled over with a grin, chiming in, “Really? Damn, I always miss the good stuff,” steering the attention away from you and saving you from drowning in the awkwardness.

After twenty minutes of steady uphill walking, most of the groups slowed down and stopped at the stalls selling water and snacks. You bought yourself a bottle and sat down on the grass, catching your breath.

Taehyung was a few feet away, deep in conversation with a girl—you figured it must be the ex he’d reconnected with yesterday. Hoseok and Namjoon were off to the side, Hoseok showing off a couple of dance moves while balancing his water bottle, Namjoon clapping like he’d just witnessed a performance.

“That must suck.”

The familiar voice made your head snap around. Jimin. He lowered himself to the grass beside you, casual as ever.

“What?” you asked flatly, already bracing yourself.

“Your boyfriend leaving with another girl.” His tone was too smooth, too knowing.

You scoffed, twisting the cap off your bottle. “Are you here to be bitter and make fun of me?”

His head shook quickly, his voice rushing out. “No, not at all.”

You rolled your eyes, but the look on his face wasn’t smug. It was softer—something between guilt and regret lingering in his expression.

 

I mean, looking at it from his perspective, it did look messed up for Jungkook to do that, you thought. But what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t defend him? “I’m pretty sure he was just worried. She’s his friend, after all,” you muttered, even though deep down you knew what he did was stupid. If anything, you should be talking crap about him. And since when were he and Nara even friends like that? Whatever bond they had was not worth embarrassing you.

“Yah, Jungkook!” Namjoon’s voice cut through the crowd, making both you and Jimin look up.

There he was—Jungkook—walking back with Nara clutching his arm like she couldn’t survive without him. He looked around quickly, eyes searching until Namjoon pointed him your way. His gaze landed on you—sitting with Jimin—and confusion flickered across his face as he walked over.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Jimin said lightly, but his presence only reminded you of the humiliation still burning in your chest.

“Just go,” you snapped, sharper than you intended, annoyance spilling out on the wrong person.

Jimin raised his brows but didn’t argue. He stood, dusted off his shorts, and walked away without a word.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, stopping in front of you. His tone wasn’t angry—just bewildered, like he truly didn’t get why you looked ready to bite his head off.

You shot him a look, your frown deepening. “I should be the one asking you that question.”

Jungkook tilts his head, still confused. “She twisted her ankle, what did you want me to do? Leave her there?” His tone isn’t angry, just matter-of-fact.

You cross your arms, heat rising in your cheeks. “You broke character in front of everyone. Do you even take this fake dating thing seriously?”

“Why are you so upset? I helped a friend—”
“Yeah, a friend, but you embarrassed me in front of everyone for that friend!” you cut him off, heat rising.

“How is it embarrassment? You should be proud of your boyfriend being a gentleman,” he says, calm and matter-of-fact.

“First of all, I don’t care what you do. Second, you’re not my boyfriend—”
“I already know that. I meant your fake boyfriend,” he interrupts. You roll your eyes.

“And third, it’s about how people—and Jimin—see it. He came up to me and said it must suck, and… yeah, he wasn’t wrong,” you admit, letting a small sigh escape.

Before Jungkook can respond, Namjoon’s voice calls out, “Are you two okay there?”

You both turn, forcing smiles. “Yeah, we’re perfect,” Jungkook says, his smile tight, a little forced.

You leave the brief conversation behind and walk back to Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung. Across the way, Jimin is still with his group, laughing and chatting. Part of you feels a pang of guilt for letting some of your frustration spill onto him—but he seems busy, oblivious to it all.

Deciding to return to the cottages after two more hours of exploring and hiking, you don’t talk to Jungkook at all, sticking mostly with Taehyung. Hoseok, being the protective friend he is, puts his ego aside and approaches you to check if you’re okay, which you genuinely appreciate. You reassure him you’re fine, and he nods, a flicker of concern still in his eyes.

“Ahh, that tired me out,” you sigh, clinging to Taehyung’s arm. He lets you lean on him for support as you catch your breath from all the walking. Jungkook, on the other hand, is with Namjoon and Nara, his posture relaxed but alert, subtly scanning the path as if making sure nothing goes wrong—even as he avoids looking at you. The two of you pass each other like little kids, tense and awkward.

“Okay guys, freshen up and then meet us outside the cottages for food!” the lady on the mic announces, making everyone cheer tiredly as they head to their cottages.

You make your way toward your cottage to shower, rolling your eyes at Nara calling out, “Hey, Jungkook!” He stops mid-step, giving her a polite, controlled smile. You can’t help but notice the way his shoulders remain squared and confident, even in the small moments, a subtle reminder of why he always seems so composed.

The only thing you truly disliked about Nara—besides her fake personality—was how she constantly sabotaged your fake dating act.

Stepping into the shower, you let the hot water wash over you, lathering your skin with lavender-scented soap, letting the calming scent ease the tension of the day. You rinsed your hair thoroughly, enjoying the simple comfort of being alone for a moment.

When you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a towel, you opened the door—and froze. Jungkook, freshly out of the shower himself, shirtless and in sweatpants, was rummaging through a drawer.

“Gosh, you scared me,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your chest, the towel still clutched around your body.

“Yah, get out of my room,” you said, trying to sound stern.

He finally looked at you, tilting his head, that teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “Or what?” he asked, his voice low, deep, almost daring.

You stepped back, bumping into the wall. He moved closer, unhurried, leaning in so that his presence pressed against you. “Or what would you do, Y/N?” he whispered, his lips brushing near your ear.

Your breath hitched at the closeness, and he caught the faint scent of your lavender soap. “God, you smell so good,” he murmured, his fingers sliding along your arm before resting lightly on your neck.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He hummed in response, pressing his fingers gently yet firmly against your neck. “Don’t act like you don’t like this,” he whispered, the soft pressure making your chest tighten. Instinctively, you grabbed his hand, trying to resist the mix of surprise and heat running through you.

“May I?” he asks, and even though part of you is still annoyed, a rush of selfish excitement makes you nod immediately. Consent is all he needs.

His hand cups you, pressing with just the right amount of heat and firmness, making your breath catch and your jaw drop. You gasp, arching slightly into his touch.

“Look at me,” he demands, circling your clit with slow, deliberate strokes. His tone is low, and you feel it deep in your chest.

“Y/N, look at me,” he insists, jaw clenched, his right arm holding your neck just enough to make your pulse thrum, left hand roaming over your slick, sensitive folds.

“I want you to look at me,” he whispers against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Without warning, he slides a finger inside you. The sensation makes your knees wobble, your lips parting in a shaky moan.

He adds another finger, slowly, teasingly, stretching you just enough to make your head spin. Your eyes lock on his, wide and pleading, as a loud, heated moan escapes you. The air between you is thick with lust.

“J-Jungkook…” you stutter, moaning as he slides another finger inside, moving slowly in and out. Your eyes water at the sensation, your breath coming in quick, shaky gasps.

“Mhm,” he hums, his focus entirely on you.

“F-Fuck!” you cry as his thumb begins rubbing your clit while his other three fingers keep a fast, steady rhythm inside you. Your legs press together, nails digging into his back as he maintains the pace.

“Fuck, Jungkook! Fuck!” you scream, and your body shudders as you come hard on his fingers. He keeps moving, letting you ride out your orgasm, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, your pussy still clenching from the release as he pulls his fingers free. He glances down at you, lips tugged into a mischievous smirk, eyes dark and gleaming with satisfaction. Without missing a beat, he slides his fingers into his mouth, making your jaw drop and eyes widen. Then, leaning in, his gaze locks onto yours as he presses his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself. You kiss him back, hard and passionate, and you can feel the slight smirk tug at his lips against yours, the intensity in his eyes daring you to melt under him.

When he finally pulls back, brushing the leftover tears from your pleasure, his jaw is tight, lips slightly parted, and his dark eyes glint with amusement and desire. “How was it?” he asks.

“Fucking amazing!” you gasp, and he lets out a low, satisfied laugh, the corners of his lips lifting as he watches you with that devilish, knowing expression.

Your eyes flick to the obvious bulge pressing against his sweatpants—huge, impossibly so. Your gaze widens slightly, and he notices the look on your face. Glancing down at himself, he smirks, a dark, teasing glint in his eyes. Before you can react, he grabs your hand and places it on him, breathless and pulsing, making your heart skip.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, voice low and husky, letting you take in the moment. Then, just as suddenly, he slides your hand back, leaving you standing there, shocked and breathless. The audacity of it, the raw, unholy thrill, makes your pulse race. He strides out with that teasing swagger, leaving you frozen, heart hammering—and secretly loving every impossible, sinful second of it.

After cleaning yourself up, you slip into more comfortable clothes—baggy black sweatpants, a simple white top, a gold necklace, and your hair half-up, half-down. The orgasm might have left your body buzzing, but your mind is still clouded with frustration at Jungkook’s careless behavior from earlier.

When you step out of the room, you find him sitting on the couch, dressed in a loose white long-sleeved shirt and grey sweatpants, his dark brown hair soft and slightly messy.

“Ready?” he asks, one brow raised. You give a curt nod and start walking toward the door, but his hand catches yours, halting you.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You turn to look up at him, your voice cool. “For?” Even though you already know.

“For being stupid. For embarrassing you,” he admits, his tone low but sincere. “I was just worried about getting her back to the cottage quickly, so she wouldn’t make her ankle worse. I didn’t realize how awkward that would look for you.”

Your features soften slightly, though you keep your composure. “I don’t expect you to, Kook. You and I aren’t a real couple. Of course, in the moment, you did what felt right. I just want you to be more mindful of how things might look—to me, to others.”

He nods, understanding. Without another word, he pulls you into a hug. Your head rests against his chest, and his cologne—warm, manly, grounding—wraps around you. For a fleeting moment, the tension fades. Then, as if nothing happened, the two of you step out together, ready to join the others for food.

The view outside is light and cheerful, the sky dimming into soft oranges and purples as the sun sinks behind the clouds. Groups of people crowd the tables, eating and laughing while music hums in the background. The smell of fried rice and grilled food drifts through the air, mixing with the cool evening breeze.

Jungkook returns with two plates and sets one in front of you—fried rice and honey chicken.
“Wah, this is delicious,” you exclaim after the first bite, closing your eyes in satisfaction. Jungkook grins, shoving a spoonful into his mouth, then dramatically shuts his eyes like a food critic. You burst out laughing, the tension from earlier loosening for a brief moment.

“Jungkook-ah!” Namjoon calls, waving him over. Jungkook glances at you, silently asking if you’ll be fine. You give him a reassuring smile and a nod, and he heads off.

Left alone, your gaze drifts and lands on Jimin. He’s sitting with his group, laughing at something one of his friends said. The sight twists something inside you—the guilt from earlier, how you’d snapped at him when he didn’t deserve it. Maybe now was the right time to apologize.

You glance around for Jungkook, but he’s gone. Approaching Namjoon, you ask, “Hey, where did Jungkook go?”
“Ah, he went to grab something from my cottage,” Namjoon replies easily.

You nod slowly, heart thudding a little faster as your eyes find Jimin again. Swallowing your hesitation, you start walking toward him, every step making you more aware of the knot in your chest.

“Hey,” you call out softly.

Jimin looks up, surprise flickering across his face before it melts into a gentle smile. “Oh, Y/n,” he breathes out, standing to his feet. His friends glance between the two of you, curious.

“Do you wanna go somewhere else?” he asks, his tone careful but warm.

“Sure,” you say, returning his smile.

He reaches for your hand—not rushed, just gentle—and you let him, the contact oddly familiar. Together, you walk toward a tree at the edge of the clearing, far from the noise of the crowd. The air feels quieter here, heavier somehow.

“What’s up?” Jimin asks, searching your face with those unreadable eyes of his.

You inhale slowly, steadying yourself. “I’m sorry for being rude earlier.”

For a moment, he seems tense, like he’s bracing for something worse. Then his shoulders ease, and he lets out a soft, breathy laugh. “It’s okay, Y/n. I know you were overwhelmed in the moment.” His smile is genuine, the kind that makes your own chest loosen.

“Are you sure?” you ask, still testing the waters.

“Of course I am,” he replies without hesitation.

The awkwardness you’d been carrying around between you begins to fade, like a weight lifting. Still, you know better than to dive too deep too quickly. He’s the one who hurt you, and rushing into heavy questions would only crack the fragile peace you’ve just built. For now, easing the tension feels like the right step.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you,” Jimin says carefully, his voice steady but his eyes a little uncertain.

“About?” you ask, tilting your head, blinking at him with curiosity. The innocent gesture makes him smile, his lips curling softly.

“Us,” he says, and suddenly your breathing feels heavier, chest tightening at the weight of that single word.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asks. You want to scold him right there—dropping something like that and leaving you to spiral all night—but you swallow it down. Not wanting to sound desperate, you force a small nod. “Sure… what time?”

He thinks for a moment, gaze flicking upward as if choosing his words carefully. “How about during the games?” he finally says, reminding you of the game night tomorrow.

You nod, and his smile widens, almost relieved. Together, you head back toward the cottage area where the crowd buzzes with laughter and chatter.

Your eyes immediately catch Jungkook. He’s talking to Nara, but when his gaze shifts and lands on you, it lingers—brows pinched slightly, lips pressed into a line. Still, he doesn’t make it awkward as you part ways with Jimin, giving him a soft “bye.”

Nara says something that makes Jungkook chuckle politely, but he cuts their conversation short, excusing himself and walking straight toward you. His expression is serious, his dark eyes flickering once more to Jimin before settling on you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, brows furrowed in concern.

You squint at him, then break into laughter. “Are you being protective of me?”

Your laughter bursts out, bright and genuine, making him raise his brows, confused but softening when he sees your smile. You grab his broad shoulders, spinning him around as you walk behind him, your hands still on his shoulders like he’s your personal bodyguard.

“I just wanted to apologize to him for being rude earlier,” you explain.

“How’d it go?” he asks, glancing back at you briefly, eyes slightly narrowed but curious.

“Good, to be honest. He wants to talk about ‘us’ tomorrow.”

Jungkook grins, the expression stretching across his face as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Maybe our plan really worked.”

“Maybe it did,” you say, lips curling into a smile of your own.

He suddenly turns around, facing you now. His grin softens, his gaze steady and warm. “I’m happy for you,” he whispers, his words sweet and genuine, making your chest flutter.

Overcome, you leap into his arms, and he catches you easily, a surprised laugh slipping from him before holding you close. His expression softens even more, jaw unclenching, dimples showing as he hugs you back.

“I have to admit,” you say, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, “you can be cocky and a total asshole… but also sweet and genuine.”

He frowns dramatically, lips pouting as his brows knit together. “Yah, I’ve always been a nice guy,” he argues, pretending to be offended.

You squeal when he loosens his grip slightly, making you think he’s about to drop you. “Don’t you dare!” you scream, clinging tighter as he smirks playfully, clearly enjoying your panic.

“Should we head back?” you ask softly.

“You want to?” Jungkook tilts his head, studying you.

You nod. “Yeah.”

“I don’t want to,” he says flatly, lips twitching into a smirk when you scoff.

“Well then, I’ll go,” you retort, slipping down from his arms.

He snorts, amused. “Let’s go,” he finally says, turning just enough to wave at Nara. She forces a smile, but her eyes scream how much she hates your existence here.

Back inside the cottage, Jungkook plops onto the couch, a bag of popcorn in hand. “What are we watching?” he asks between munches.

“It’s a new movie Taehyung told me to try,” you answer, stealing a handful of popcorn. Your cheeks are stuffed full now, making him glance at you in disbelief before chuckling.

He shakes his head. “You look ridiculous.” Making you frown.

“Okay, put it on,” he says, stretching out comfortably, one arm draped over the back of the couch.

The lights in the cottage are dim, the glow of the TV casting shadows across his sharp jawline. The air feels too quiet, the only sound the occasional crunch of popcorn.

It’s comfortable… until it isn’t.

Ten minutes in, the movie takes a sharp turn. Clothes are ripped off on-screen, moans filling the silence as the guy pushes the girl against the wall.

You stiffen.

Of course Taehyung would set you up like this.

You try to act casual, shoving popcorn into your mouth a little too quickly, eyes glued to the screen like you’re unbothered. But your skin burns, and after what Jungkook did earlier, your body remembers far too vividly.

You feel it before you look—his gaze on you, heavy, sharp, almost daring.

“Should I… skip it?” you ask hesitantly, voice thinner than you’d like.

Jungkook’s gaze shifts to you, his eyes hooded, voice low. “Why? Are you getting turned on?”

Your throat tightens as you gulp. “N-no,” you stammer, clearing your throat.

But he leans closer, the heat of his body brushing yours. “What if I said I’m getting hard right now?”

Before you can react, he grabs your hand and presses it against his covered bulge. Your breath stutters, pussy clenching at the sudden hardness beneath your palm.

“Why…” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“Because,” he murmurs, “open your eyes.”

You do—and he tilts your jaw, forcing your gaze back toward the screen. The guy is eating the girl out, her moans filling the silence of the room.

“That’s what I want to do to you,” he whispers, lips grazing your ear before gently biting your lobe. Your breath hitches, a shaky gasp escaping as warmth spreads low in your stomach.

“J-Jungkook…” your voice trembles, your hand pressing weakly against his chest, not because you want to stop, but because you feel yourself losing control.

“Tell me, Y/n,” he whispers again, his mouth trailing kisses along your ear, down your neck. His voice drips sin as his hand slides under your panties, cupping your soaked heat.

“Will you let me eat you out?”

You’re trembling, body burning, every nerve alive.

“Mhm?” he hums against your skin, his breath hot, fingers teasing your folds.

“Yes…” you finally gasp, your voice breaking into a moan. “Fuck—yes.”

His lips curl into a satisfied smirk against your neck. He sighs like he’s been waiting for this answer forever.

“That’s my Slut”

Chapter 7: Third Wheel

Your breath hitches at his filthy words.
“Lay down for me,” he orders, his voice low, stern, and commanding.

You obey, lying on your back with your knees bent. Jungkook smirks, his dark gaze trailing from your chest to the heat between your thighs. He lowers himself onto his stomach, settling between your legs, his hands sliding along your thighs with a firm grip before tugging down your shorts.

He doesn’t look away—his eyes are locked on yours, the intensity making your chest rise and fall faster. You let him take control, nerves buzzing under your skin. It’s not like you haven’t done this before on reckless one-night stands, but this is different. This is Jungkook. And because you’re actually attracted to him, the thought of whether he’ll like it makes you even more restless. Typical girl problem, you think bitterly.

“Fuck, baby,” he mutters, eyes fixed on your glistening pussy, his expression heavy with lust. “So fucking wet.” His words are a low, hungry whisper, and the way he stares at you—like you’re the only thing he wants—only makes your core ache more.

You lift your head to watch him, and the sight alone makes your stomach flip. His gaze flicks up, locking onto yours as his tongue slips out slowly before dragging a firm lick straight up your folds.

Your head falls back against the pillow instantly as a sharp gasp escapes your lips, your fingers instinctively tangling into his hair, gripping tight. A satisfied hum vibrates from his throat against you, sending shocks of pleasure down your spine.

“Fuck,” he groans in a rush, pulling back only enough to breathe, his lips wet with you. “I could eat you all day. Every. Fucking. Day.”

Before you can even react, his mouth is on you again, wrapping around your cunt as his tongue presses deeper, sliding against your folds, devouring you with greedy precision.

Your thighs twitch under his hold as he buries himself deeper, the wet sounds of his tongue lapping at you filling the room. His grip on your legs tightens, keeping you wide open for him as you whimper, your nails scraping his scalp.

“J-Jungkook…” you moan breathlessly, hips lifting from the bed, but he presses your thighs down harder, forcing you to take it all.

“Mhm,” he hums against your pussy, the vibration making your body jolt. He drags his tongue up your slit, slow and deliberate, before circling your clit with a teasing flick. He looks up at you then, his dark eyes locking with yours as his mouth stays latched on your clit, sucking harder.

Your jaw falls slack, breath ragged. “Fuck—oh my god,” you cry out, feeling the pressure build fast, embarrassingly fast.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening. “That’s it, baby. Don’t hold back for me.” And then he dives in again, tongue flicking and swirling relentlessly, his hand sneaking up to press two fingers inside you without warning.

Your back arches off the mattress with a loud gasp, your grip in his hair almost painful now. “Shit, Jungkook!”

He groans into you, the vibrations only making your walls clench harder around his fingers as he pumps them deep, curling them just right while his tongue works your clit in fast, hungry circles.

The wet sounds, his muffled moans, your breathy cries—everything mixes into something obscene. The coil in your stomach snaps, your legs trembling violently as you cum hard against his mouth.

But he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. His tongue and fingers keep working you through your orgasm.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out as he finally pulls back. The sight of his lips, chin, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your wetness makes your stomach flip—he looks filthy and impossibly hot at the same time.

“How was it?” he asks, voice low but smug.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “The best I’ve had by a guy.”

His grin deepens before he leans in, crashing his mouth to yours. The kiss is rough, wet, his tongue sliding into your mouth and making you taste yourself until you’re left gasping. Pulling back, he licks his lips and smirks.

“And that’ll be the last—because nobody will ever top me.”

You scoff, swatting lightly at his chest. “You don’t know that!”

“Trust me, I do,” he winks, then casually picks up your shorts from the floor and tosses them at you before sauntering toward his room, still shirtless and smug.

You stand there, legs still shaky, bare pussy on full display, muttering under your breath, “Cocky bastard.” But the heat spreading through your body betrays you—you do agree.

Scoffing again at yourself, you grab the shorts, but the wet mess between your thighs makes you scrunch your nose. No way you’re putting those on. Instead, you walk straight to the bathroom, desperate for a shower.

“Dinner?” Jungkook asks raising a brow as you get out of the shower “Dinner?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow as you step out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around you.

“Uh—my phone!” you realize, spotting it on the couch in the living room. “I forgot my phone.”

“I’m craving junk food,” you yawn, grabbing your phone and then heading back to your room to get dressed.

“McDonald’s it is,” he says, pulling out his phone to order through Uber Eats. He leans against the kitchen counter, one arm crossed over his chest, lips pouting as he scrolls through the menu.

You pause in front of the bathroom mirror. One of the hardest parts about being a girl? Thinking you’re fat when you’re really not. You grab your stomach and groan. “This is gonna kill me!” you mutter, loud enough for Jungkook to peek into your room, eyebrows raised in concern.

“I’ve gained weight,” you sigh, watching his confused expression. After a beat, he relaxes.

“You look the same to me,” he says casually.

You scoff, shaking your head. Not only is he being a man, but also a little clueless. “I’m cooking. I don’t care,” you snap, walking to the kitchen. Jungkook snorts, closing the Uber Eats app.

“I guess that’s what it is then,” he mutters, leaning back with a small smile, clearly entertained by your dramatic self-critique.

As much as you hate cooking, you can’t eat another 2,000-calorie junk meal before bed.

“Yah, pass me the pasta!” you say, trying to sound stern and cold, though the corner of your mouth twitches.

Jungkook laughs, the sound low and easy. “Alright, alright.” He hands you the box of pasta like you just demanded the world.

You drop it into the boiling water, stirring slowly. “Honestly, I don’t know why I even try sometimes. Cooking feels like a full-time job.”

“Maybe you just need a better assistant,” he mutters, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He watches you with that faint, calculating smirk—not teasing, not flirty, just… observing.

You snort. “Yeah, sure, because you’re the perfect assistant, right?”

He shrugs, quiet, letting the moment hang. You focus on the pasta, stirring it carefully. The kitchen smells like garlic and tomato, simple and warm.

“Holy fuck, this is good!” Jungkook exclaims, taking a big bite of pasta once you set the bowls on the table.

“Mhm!” you hum, nodding with your mouth full. “Not bad at all.”

He points at you with his fork, eyebrows raised. “Wah, I did not expect you to actually be able to cook.”

You roll your eyes. “Yah, don’t annoy me now,” you say, shoving another bite into your mouth.

He grins, unbothered. Between bites, he asks, “Are you nervous?”

You pause, chewing slower. “About?”

“Seeing Jimin tomorrow.”

Your spoon clinks against the bowl as you lower it, honesty slipping out before you can think twice. “…Yeah. Very.”

“Don’t be,” he says simply, almost like it’s obvious. “It won’t be bad.”

You huff a laugh, shaking your head. “Easy for you to say.”

He shrugs. “If it gets bad, just call me over.”

Your brows lift. “Oh, and what would you do?”

His lips twitch into a half-smirk, eyes on his food. “Save you from embarrassment. Like I always do.”

Jungkook being nice is not weird but indeed a rare sight, you think.

“We’ll see,” you say aloud, chomping on your food while scrolling through your phone.

“How are things between you and Hoseok?” Jungkook asks.

“They’re the same—besides, he just checked up on me once,” you reply with a shrug. “I might talk to him tomorrow because he’s dragging it too far.”

“I think you both are acting like kids,” he says casually, shrugging.

Your jaw drops dramatically, offended. “That’s rich coming from you.”

He tilts his head, one brow raised. “You’re funny,” he says with a straight face before standing up and carrying his empty bowl to the sink.

And then, without missing a beat: “Should I buy condoms tomorrow?”

Your fork freezes mid-air, eyes flicking up at him. “You’re so casual about it,” you mutter, staring at your pasta instead.

“I’m just asking,” he says with that maddening shrug, leaning against the counter. “Yes or no?”

You shift in your seat, scrolling through your phone like nothing’s happening, but his stare burns into you. Finally, you glance up, meet his eyes, and say, low, “…Yeah.”

His lips twitch into a knowing smirk as he turns back to the sink.

You exhale, trying to focus on your food again, but your thoughts betray you. The idea of actually sleeping with him makes your chest tight, your stomach flutter, and—if you’re being brutally honest—your body ache with anticipation. You hate how much you want it.

Your eyes drift up without meaning to. He’s shirtless, abs flexing as he bends down to check the fridge, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He grabs a beer, shuts the door, and catches you staring.

Panic flickers—you snap your gaze back to your phone.

You don’t have to look to know he’s smirking. His cocky self never misses things like that. But without a word, he cracks the beer open and heads to his room, closing the door behind him.

You let out a deep breath, dropping your fork onto the plate. “Asshole,” you mouth under your breath.

After rinsing your bowl, you retreat to your own room. The rest of the night passes with a show playing in the background and your phone buzzing in your hand. Taehyung’s blowing up your messages again—apparently he’s back with his ex, and he won’t shut up about how fine she is. His rambling makes you laugh out loud.

“Yah, wake up!” Jungkook’s voice is followed by a knock at your door.

You groan, burying your face into the pillow. “What do you want!” you mumble, eyes still shut.

You’re not even sure when you fell asleep—it was definitely late, since the TV is still on, buzzing faintly in the background.

“We have to go to the lake, and it’s already noon. Wake up!” he knocks again, harder this time.

“Fuck!” you groan, finally forcing your eyes open. The sunlight streaming through the window makes you squint, irritation prickling at your skin.

Getting up with your eyes half closed, you shuffle to the door and pull it open. Jungkook stands there in black swim shorts, an oversized tee, and sneakers. His hair is slightly messy, damp at the ends like he’s just showered.

He takes one look at your puffy face and messy bun and bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling as his shoulders shake. “God, you look like you fought a bear in your sleep,” he says, grin wide and teasing.

You swing your foot at him, but he dodges easily, smirk still plastered on his face. “Get ready,” he says, tone still dripping with amusement as you force your eyes open wider.

“Where are we going first?” you mumble, untying your bun and trying to smooth down your hair.

“Uh, maybe a nearby store to get beer—because we ran out. And condoms,” he adds casually, like he’s talking about chips or soda. His lips twitch like he’s holding back another laugh, eyes glinting with mischief.

You pause mid-step, give him a slow, tired side-eye, and mutter, “You’re impossible.” Your voice comes out groggy, more annoyed than embarrassed, but it still makes him grin wider.

Shaking your head, you keep walking toward the bathroom. As you close the door, you hear him chuckling under his breath again.

“Yah, get the hell out of my room!” you shout from inside.

Brushing your teeth and washing your face, you decide against showering now—you’ll just be swimming anyway, and you already showered last night. I’ll shower after we get back from the lake, you think, making a mental note. Instead, you quickly rinse your body with warm water, apply your creams, dab a little concealer under your eyes, swipe on some lip tint, and finish with a light spritz of body mist.

For clothes, you pull on a pair of small black shorts and a long white tee, tossing your hair up into a high ponytail. You sling your bag over your shoulder, bikini tucked inside.

“Ready?” Jungkook knocks lightly against the already open door, peeking his head in. He’s grinning, that cocky expression tugging at his lips.

You nod, adjusting your bag.

“Let’s go, fake girlfriend,” he says, stretching his hand out toward you with a teasing tilt of his head.

“Let’s go, fake boyfriend,” you reply, slipping your hand into his. The two of you step outside together, the sunlight hitting your faces as if this was just another normal day.

Or maybe not—because the moment you step outside, you’re met with the sight of Nara and a few others lingering near the cars. Nara’s eyes light up as soon as she spots Jungkook.

“Hey!” she calls, practically running up to him while her friends trail behind. She doesn’t spare you a glance, as if you weren’t even standing there.

“We can go in my car!” she offers brightly, already angling herself closer to him.

Jungkook, to his credit, keeps it respectful but firm. “We’re gonna stop by the store first. Need to grab some beer.”

“Oh, then I’ll just come with you guys,” Nara insists, flashing him a smile.

He glances at you, silent but waiting for your call. You feel the irritation simmering under your skin, but you’re not about to cause a scene in front of everyone. So you force a small shrug.

“Sure,” you say evenly.

Nara tells her friends to go on without her, then slides right into Jungkook’s car like she owns it. Somehow, you end up in the backseat because apparently she “gets nauseous” sitting in the back.

Normally, you’d argue, but you don’t even bother. Wasting energy on her feels pointless. Besides, it’s not like you actually like Jungkook. If Nara thinks it’s weird for his so-called “girlfriend” to be fine with sitting in the back, that’s her problem. Honestly, you doubt she even acknowledges your existence enough to question it.

Scrolling through your phone you desperately wished you had your headphones because hearing Nara’s high pitched Voice talk about everything in her life to jungkook is making your ears bleed. It’s just soo boring. Jungkook seems to be having fun though he laughs here and then at her jokes but also glances at you from the mirror to make sure you’re okay.

Alright, We are here.” Jungkook parks outside the store, the engine cutting off with a soft hum. The three of you climb out of the car. He leans slightly toward you, his voice dropping low like it’s meant just for you.

“You good?”

You give him a quick, casual nod—too quick. Then you head straight toward the store without waiting for him.

His brows pull together, confusion flickering across his face. He knows something’s off, but before he can press, Nara appears at his side, all smiles.

“Let’s go?” she asks brightly, tilting her head.

He hesitates for half a second, then nods, slipping back into his neutral mask as they both follow you inside.

You’re on the side aisle, sliding beer cans into the cart. From across the store, you can still hear Nara’s loud voice echoing, her laugh bouncing off the shelves. You ignore it, reaching for a few bags of chips and cookies before tossing in some soda cans.

Suddenly, a strong arm snakes around your waist. You jolt, almost dropping the can in your hand. Jungkook’s chest brushes your back, his face close enough that his breath fans your ear.

“I bought the condoms,” he murmurs, voice low and deliberate. Then, without pause, he adds with a husky smirk, “Tonight is going to be so fun, baby.”

Your breath stutters, your gaze dropping immediately. He’s holding the box casually in one hand, like it’s nothing. When you glance up, he’s already grinning—slow, cocky, amused at your reaction.

He pulls away just as easily as he came, chuckling under his breath while you stand there, cheeks warm, trying to process the unholy act.

“Jungkook!” Nara calls, catching up behind him. Her eyes flick to you, lingering on your flustered face with a strange look. “What’s wrong with her?” she finally asks, her tone half-curious, half-condescending.

Before you can respond, Jungkook cuts in smoothly, as if he didn’t even hear her question. “Did you find the candy?” he asks, his voice casual.

Nara’s face lights up instantly. “Yess! It’s so good. I can’t ever find it in the city, but here they have it.” She passes him the box, smiling cheekily like she’s sharing some inside secret.

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “Jerk,” before walking off toward the next aisle, pretending to be far more interested in the shelves than in whatever fake little moment the two of them were having.

Chapter 8: Unwelcome Company

Notes:

Hey loves! Sorry for the delay—I’ve been super busy, but the new chapter’s finally here! Enjoy this one, because I’ve got a double update coming your way this week!

“Is that all you wanted?” Jungkook asks Nara after she tosses a bag of chips into the cart.

“Yes,” she replies with a cheeky smile.

He gives her a polite one back before turning his attention to you, helping you scan the rest of the items.

Once everything’s paid for, the three of you head back to the car. The ride to the lake is quiet on your end—you don’t bother saying much. Nara, on the other hand, keeps chatting away, her voice filling the silence. Jungkook tries to include you here and there, but it’s pointless. Nara’s responses toward you are clipped, distant. She doesn’t make an effort to hide the fact that she doesn’t like you being there.

Parking in the crowded lot with everyone else, you, Jungkook, and Nara make your way down to where the rest of the group is gathered—the instructors, the trip planners, and clusters of students. Some people are already in the lake, splashing around in the cool water, while others sit on the rocks, chitchatting, eating, and enjoying the music playing from someone’s speaker. The air carries that earthy, fresh scent of nature, and you take a deep breath, letting it ground you for a moment.

Up ahead, there’s a small wooden hut set up for changing into swimsuits. A few girls are already done, heading toward the water, their laughter mixing with the music.

Nara squeals as she pulls her oversized shirt off, revealing a dark green bikini that hugs her curves perfectly. She looks effortlessly confident, and you can feel eyes—especially the guys’—lingering on her. It’s impossible not to notice. Being a girl, comparison is second nature, and you catch yourself doing it too, your chest tightening with that familiar sting.

From the corner of your eye, you catch Jungkook’s reaction—his gaze flicks to Nara briefly, a single brow lifting like he can’t help but register the attention she’s getting. But he doesn’t linger. His lips press into a faint line, almost unreadable, and then his eyes are already moving past her like it’s not worth more than a second.

Before the spiral can take over, a warm pressure lands on your lower back. Jungkook’s hand. Without a word, he steers you gently toward the hut, like he’s making sure you get there without an escape route.

You let him guide you to the hut, stopping outside.
“I’ll go change,” you whisper with a small smile.
He smiles back, but before you can step in—

“Woah, you’re her boyfriend and you won’t go inside with her?” one of the guys calls out.

You turn to see his face—it’s one of Jimin’s friends, the same one who was talking to him at the bonfire. Jimin is sitting right next to him now, shirtless in dark blue shorts, his abs on full display as he raises a brow slightly, also finding it odd.

But before the heat can crawl up your neck, Jungkook saves you from the embarrassment.
“If I go inside with her, we won’t be coming back out anytime soon,” he says with a shrug, eyes locked straight on the guy.

The friend’s eyes widen, caught off guard, and he laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Ahh, I see.”

Jungkook chuckles darkly at the boy’s stupidity, not even bothering to hide his cockiness. Meanwhile, Jimin just sits there, jaw tight, glaring at Jungkook with an expression that could cut glass.

Unbothered, Jungkook turns back around, his hand firm on your waist as he opens the door to the hut. He ushers you inside, making sure to lock it behind you—loud enough that Jimin and his little friend hear it.

“You want me to change in front of you?” you ask, almost shy, though it’s not like he hasn’t already been intimate with you—he’s eaten you out and fingered you, so he has seen you in private before.

He laughs, that low, cocky laugh, taking a couple steps closer until his breath fans your face.
“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice brushing your ear. “But I’d never say no to that beautiful body of yours.”

Your chest tightens—hearing him call your body beautiful is a confidence boost you didn’t know you needed. This is Jeon Jungkook, the most attractive guy you’ve ever known, and he’s saying that about you.

“Jungkook…” you whisper, placing your hand lightly on his chest to push him back, though the smell of his cologne makes your head spin. His neck is so close to your lips you almost forget what you’re doing.

He chuckles, gently grabbing your wrist.
“What? You thought I was joking when I said that outside?” he breathes, reminding you of the dirty comment he made in front of Jimin and his friend.

Your eyes snap to his, and he smirks.
“I won’t look now… but one day, I will,” he says, voice dripping with promise—a reminder of your deal.

You can’t help the way your teeth tug at your lip, the thought of him finally going all the way with you sparking a fire in your stomach. His tongue plays with his lip piercing, making it worse, and before you know it, confidence surges.

You crash your lips into his.

He doesn’t miss a beat, kissing you back instantly, hands gripping your waist and hips as your fingers tangle in his hair. The world outside blurs away as you two make out, your breath shallow, bodies pressed close, heat rising fast.

“More,” you whisper against his lips, greedy.

He hums with a chuckle, clearly enjoying your neediness, but before he can give you what you want—

A sharp knock rattles the door.
“Jungkook!”

Both your heads snap toward the sound.

“Jungkook!” The voice calls again, impatient this time.

“Fuck,” he groans, pulling back with an annoyed look as your grip loosens.

He walks to the door, unlocking it only to be met with Nara standing there, one hand on her hip, the other resting on the wall. She gives him a practiced, fake-frustrated look.

“I’m so sorry, I spilled a drink on my bikini. I need to fix myself,” she says, her tone dripping with sweetness as she points directly at her bra, making sure he sees her perfectly displayed chest.

Jungkook exhales, unimpressed, his arms folding across his chest.
“We’ll be quick—just changing,” he replies with a fake smile.

Nara beams at him before stepping aside, and he shuts the door firmly in her face.

Turning back to you, he catches your eye.
“There’s no way she ‘accidentally’ spilled it,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

He chuckles, clearly entertained by your irritation.

“It’s okay, baby,” he breathes out, grinning ear to ear, purposely using that nickname. “Next time, yeah?” He tilts his head, raises a brow, that cocky grin still in place.

You roll your eyes and give him a middle finger. He winks, lips slightly parted, clearly enjoying the reaction.

“Done?” Jungkook asks, facing the wall, giving you space to change into your bikini.

You don’t respond right away, taking your time as you admire yourself in the mirror.

“Yah, are you done?” he asks again, a little more impatient this time.

Still no answer. With a faint sigh, he turns around—and freezes.

Your reflection meets his in the mirror. The tight black bikini hugs your curves perfectly; the bra lifts and shapes your breasts, the lacy panties sit exactly where they should. Your tan skin glows under the light, and even as you adjust your hair, the way your ass shifts makes him smirk slightly.

“Agh, no matter what I wear, my bloated stomach makes me look big,” you mutter, annoyed, walking toward your bag.

Jungkook grabs your wrist, pulling you back in front of him. His face hovers close to yours, nose almost brushing yours, eyes roaming over your body once more.

“You look beautiful,” he says softly, and you can’t help the slightly wide-eyed stare you give him.

“And trust me,” he adds, voice dropping low, blunt and dirty, “if Nara wasn’t standing outside waiting for us, I’d fuck you right here, right now.”

Your gaze drops to his tattooed arms gripping your waist, then back up to his lips. His dark smirk meets your eyes, daring you.

“Control yourself, Jeon. You can’t have me that easily,” you retort, trying to sound dominant, the memory of your party confidence giving you courage.

He raises a brow, tilts his head, and smacks your ass lightly. Your breath hitches.

A knock at the door interrupts, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. He smirks down at your flushed, horny figure, thumb tracing lightly over his lips before he saunters to the door, still wearing that same cocky, teasing grin.

“You had me worried—you took so long,” Nara says, her tone laced with faux concern. You know better—she didn’t want you and Jungkook alone for long. Curiosity is written all over her face.

Jungkook smiles lightly and lets her walk in, but she quickly stops smiling at you, striding toward the bathroom, ignoring your presence entirely. You follow, hand in hand with Jungkook, who waits patiently by the door.

“Hey, Y/n! Jungkook! Come here!” Namjoon shouts from the water, Hoseok and Taehyung by his side. You can’t help smiling at Taehyung’s silliness—he’s pretending to drown and flailing dramatically.

You and Jungkook make your way over, hands intertwined. You notice how your ex’s smile falters the instant he sees your fingers laced with Jungkook’s, and he quickly looks away. Jungkook smirks at your silent satisfaction.

He steps into the water first, offering you his hand to help you in. You squeal as the cold water hits your skin, but his muscular, tattooed hands steady you. The waterfall’s current is strong, yet his grip on your waist keeps you secure.

“Hi, Joon,” you call out as Namjoon flashes his dazzling smile, dimples popping.

“You good?” Jungkook asks, still holding you close. You nod, and he loosens his grip slightly, keeping just enough contact to make you feel supported.

“Yah, take a dip! Get your head wet!” Taehyung shouts, mock-annoyed at your cautiousness.

You glance at Jungkook, both of you silently nodding. You reach for his hand again, and he grips it firmly. Together, you close your eyes and submerge, letting the icy water rush over your head.

“Ah!” you squeal, gasping sharply at the cold. Jungkook wipes a bit of water from his face and nose, laughing at your reaction, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Hey!” you scream as Jungkook and Taehyung splash water at you, with Namjoon and Hoseok quickly joining in. You throw water back in defense, but Jungkook keeps moving closer until he grabs your wrist. You gasp, eyes squeezed shut as the water pelts you from all sides.

“Yah, pose!” Hoseok calls, laughing. You force your eyes open, wiping the water off your face just in time to flash a peace sign. Jungkook mirrors you, still holding your wrist tightly. You can feel Jimin’s burning gaze on you from nearby, which only makes you smile proudly.

“Tell him to join us,” Jungkook leans in, his voice low in your ear. You give him an unsure look but nod anyway.

“Jimin!” you call out, and he lifts his head, brows raised.
“Come join us!”

At first he hesitates, but Jungkook turns to look at him directly—his stare sharp, almost challenging. That’s all it takes for Jimin to make his way toward the group. Hoseok still keeps some distance, though you catch the small smiles he sneaks your way. You know he can’t stay mad at you forever.

“Okay, so what are the teams?” Taehyung asks.

“Me and Jung—” Before you can finish, Nara cuts in, her voice pitched a little too high. She’s back from the hut now, dripping wet in her bikini.

“How about me and Jungkook, then Y/n and Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok, and Namjoon with my friend Jess?” she says quickly, almost like she’s been rehearsing it. Everyone agrees before you can protest, and honestly—you don’t mind. Teaming up with Jimin doesn’t sound too bad.

“Okay! Let the water fight begin!” Nara squeals.

Moments later, you’re hoisted up on Jimin’s shoulders, your legs snug around his neck as his hands steady your thighs.

“You okay up there?” he asks softly, glancing up at you.

“Yes! Let’s go beat their asses!” you shout, making him laugh.

Across the way, Jungkook smirks with Nara perched on his shoulders. The two of them wade toward you, both you and Nara leaning forward, hands out, ready to push. Around you, Namjoon and Jess are locked in battle with Taehyung and Hoseok—though Taehyung seems more interested in theatrically falling over to make Jess laugh, earning him loud scoffs from Namjoon and Hoseok.

“Ahhh!” Nara shrieks, shoving you with all her strength. You teeter dangerously, but Jimin’s grip on your thighs tightens, steadying you.

“Come on, Nara,” Jungkook chuckles from under her, egging her on.

But you’re not about to lose. With one well-timed push, you send Nara toppling forward. She crashes into the water, her fall cushioned only by Jungkook’s muscular body as he stumbles down with her.

Oh my,” Nara breathes, clinging onto Jungkook for support she doesn’t really need now that she’s steady again. Her tone is laced with frustration. “We have to do another round!”

“Bring it on,” you shoot back, legs wrapped firmly around Jimin’s neck. He adjusts his grip on your thighs, grounding you. Jungkook only chuckles under his breath, lifting Nara back onto his shoulders, his hands secure on her legs.

“Hah!” Nara lunges forward, trying to shove you down, but you dodge at the last second and push her back. She manages to hold steady this time, thanks to Jungkook’s strength beneath her.

“Come on, Y/n!” Jimin urges, his sweet voice making you laugh despite the intensity of the game.

“Nara, you know what to do,” Jungkook murmurs in a low voice that makes her smirk instantly.

You tilt your head, confused—until suddenly, she fakes a move one way, then shoves hard in the opposite direction. You lose your balance and topple backward with a splash into the cold water.

“Ahhh!” you squeal as you go under, hearing Nara’s triumphant laugh echoing above. Jungkook smirks down at you from the surface, clearly pleased with his little trick.

But before the victory can settle, Jess lets out a startled scream as Taehyung finally manages to topple her. She crashes into the water right after you, making the boys erupt in laughter.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asks immediately, worry flashing in his eyes as he steadies you by the waist. His touch is gentle, and after a second he moves his hands away, respectful.

“Yes! Some water went in my nose though. I’ll be back,” you say, laughing it off as you try to excuse yourself.

“Do you need me to come with you?” he offers quickly, voice soft but sincere.

“No, why would she? I’m right here for her,” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, raising a brow as his lips curl into that cocky tilt of a smirk.

Jimin’s jaw tightens, the muscle twitching. “Well, I just asked because I was worri—”

“Then don’t,” Jungkook interrupts again, shrugging like it’s nothing, but you know it’s calculated. He’s good at this game—his act is flawless, and by the look on Jimin’s face, his plan is working.

You catch yourself smiling, impressed, but you quickly cover it before anyone notices. “Jimin, thank you, but it’s okay!” you say warmly, giving him a smile soft enough to linger in his mind.

Still, you slip your hand into Jungkook’s when he extends it toward you, letting him lead you out of the water. His smirk widens as you both make your way back toward the hut, leaving Jimin standing there with clenched fists and burning eyes.

“That was impressive,” you say, smacking Jungkook’s arm as he locks the door.

“I know,” he replies cockily, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

You roll your eyes and grab a towel from one of the shelves, rubbing it through your damp hair. “I’m not gonna lie… I’m a little nervous about seeing him tonight.”

Jungkook leans against the wall, arms folded, watching you with that unreadable look. “Don’t be. It’s just your little ex.” He snorts.

You scoff, tossing him a glare. “You wouldn’t understand because you never dated him.”

“Thank god I didn’t,” he shoots back instantly, shaking his head.

The bluntness makes you laugh, and you chuck the wet towel at him. He catches it one-handed with ease, smirking as if you’d just given him a challenge he won.

“Can you pass me my shirt?” you ask, pointing toward it.

“No,” he says flatly, though his hand is already reaching for it. He tosses it your way a second later, the smirk still plastered on his face.

You catch it, narrowing your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

Instead of answering, Jungkook just winks.

Leaving the hut, you and Jungkook walk over to the others, most of them already waiting. Nara stands front and center, arms crossed and a cold expression on her face as she complains about how long you both took. Some people had already left, but before you can argue back—pointing out it was barely ten minutes and nothing that serious—Jungkook shoots you a look, silently telling you to drop it.

The group splits into two cars on the way back: Nara rides with you and Jungkook, while Taehyung goes with Namjoon and Hoseok. You can’t help but wish Taehyung had joined your car instead—at least he’d make you feel included, instead of sitting next to someone who seems to secretly hate your existence.

Chapter 9: The Weight of Regret

Arriving back at the cottages after nearly three hours at the lake, all you can think about is freshening up before game night. The organizers announce that things will kick off in thirty minutes, giving everyone just enough time to shower, change, and grab some food beforehand.

You don’t waste a second heading toward your cottage. The wet bikini clinging under your long shirt is driving you crazy, and your damp hair—now frizzing as it dries—isn’t helping either.

Jungkook, still caught up in conversation with Namjoon and Nara, just waves when you tell him you’re heading to shower. Taehyung has already disappeared into his own cottage—he texted earlier that his ex was coming over tonight, so of course, he wanted to be clean. Hoseok, meanwhile, is off snapping photos of the scenery. When you catch his eye and gesture that you’re going back, he offers you a soft smile and a thumbs-up. It’s subtle, but enough to show he’s slowly easing back to his usual self.

You let out a long sigh as the hot water cascades over your skin, washing away the lingering chill from the lake. Closing your eyes, you allow yourself a small smile—this feels heavenly. The steam fogs up the glass door as you lather shampoo into your hair, the rich floral scent filling the bathroom.

A sudden knock at the door makes your eyes snap open, though soap keeps you from fully looking up.

“Yes?” you call out, raising your voice over the water.

“How’s the shower going?” Jungkook’s deep voice rumbles through the door.

A smile tugs at your lips, but then an idea sparks—a smirk replacing the smile before you can second-guess it. The words tumble out, bold and unfiltered, surprising even you.

“How about you come inside and find out?” you tease, voice light but daring.

Were you nervous? Absolutely. But the thought doesn’t linger long. You know you’re beautiful, and sooner or later, Jungkook will see you like this anyway. Friends with benefits don’t stay half-dressed forever. The thought alone is enough to settle your nerves, replacing them with a confident thrill.

His answer isn’t verbal. Instead, you hear the doorknob twist. The sound makes your lips curve into a bigger smile.

“Come in,” you call playfully, your voice laced with invitation.

A low, breathy chuckle escapes him as he pushes the door open. The wet shirt clings to his chest before he strips it off in one swift motion, followed by the sound of his shorts sliding down. Your pulse skips—you don’t even try to hide the anticipation building at the thought of finally seeing him like this.

When you slide the shower door open for him, he’s already looking at you—no, devouring you—with a gaze that’s cold, sharp, and unmistakably turned on. His eyes roam over every inch of you, lingering on your breasts before dragging lower. A muttered curse slips from his lips when his gaze lands between your thighs.

You hold your ground, shameless under the weight of his stare, but your own eyes betray you, trailing down his body. Muscular chest, defined abs—perfect, but it’s when your gaze drops lower that your breath catches.

He’s huge. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with. Your eyes widen despite yourself.

“What?” he says bluntly, his deep voice rumbling above the sound of the water. “Never seen a dick before? Or you just can’t handle mine?”

Heat rises in your cheeks at the way he calls you out, but you’re not about to back down.

“Oh get over yourself Jeon, don’t act like the sight of my body doesn’t turn you on,” you shoot back, smirking as your hands glide slowly from your breasts down to your waist, deliberately teasing. Your eyes flick to his length again, unashamed this time.

Instead of faltering, he smirks—dark and cocky, the corners of his lips tugging upward as he steps fully into the shower with you, the steam curling around both your bodies.

“Pass me the shampoo,” he says, running his hands through his wet hair as the water streams down his body. He’s so close that his chest nearly brushes against you, his size and presence practically caging you in. You grab the bottle and hand it over—but of course, you’re not about to make it that easy.

Turning around deliberately, you give him the perfect view of your ass as you reach for the body wash. “Can you put some on my back? I can’t reach it,” you say, your tone dripping with tease.

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Oh, you can’t?” His voice dips into sarcasm. “Of course you can’t.” His hand comes down in a light spank that makes you bite your lip instantly.

Still, he takes the bottle from you, squeezing some of the soap into his palm. Your hands press against the wall as you lean forward, arching just enough for your ass to brush against the heavy length pressing against you. You can feel his eyes burning into your back.

His large hands move slowly over your skin, spreading the soap across your shoulders and spine, the pressure doubling as a massage. You let out a soft sigh when his grip works up to your neck, and then his fingers tighten slightly—just enough to make your breath hitch and your eyes flutter shut.

He leans in closer, his cock pressing harder against your ass, his voice a low growl in your ear. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

You nod quickly, too overwhelmed to speak.

He pauses, his hand smacking your ass harder this time, the sharp sting making you gasp. “Hmm?” he presses, his lips brushing your ear. “Use your words.”

Before you can answer, his teeth graze your earlobe, biting down gently, and you swear you’re on the verge of losing it completely.

“Yes… it feels good,” you breathe out, finally forcing the words past your lips. Opening your eyes, you turn your head just enough that your noses brush, his gaze already fixed on your mouth. The tension snaps—your lips crash against his, and instantly his hands grip your ass, pulling you tighter as the kiss grows messy, fast, and hungry.

Your fingers tangle in his wet hair before sliding to the slick wall for balance. He deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, stealing your breath as you melt against him. Each kiss grows rougher, wetter, like neither of you can get enough. He groans low in his throat when you bite his lip, the sound vibrating through your chest.

His grip shifts, lifting you effortlessly until your legs wrap around his torso. Pinned between his body and the wall, you moan again when he drags his lips down to your jaw, then your throat, sucking just hard enough to make your knees weak even though you’re already clinging to him. You tug his hair, guiding his mouth back to yours, another kiss crashing together, more desperate than the last.

“Jungkook…” you gasp between kisses, breaking away just enough to breathe, your voice shaky and needy. He pauses immediately, waiting, eyes searching yours.

“I want you,” you whisper, voice trembling with need. Your lips part, your eyes locked on his. “Inside me.”

He curses under his breath, his cock twitching against you at the contrast of your innocent tone with the filth of your words. A grin tugs at his mouth, but his voice is low and steady as he presses a softer kiss to your swollen lips, almost reverent after the chaos.

“Anything for you,” he promises.

With that, he reaches over to twist off the shower, water still dripping from both of you as he carries you out of the bathroom—straight toward the bed.

Throwing you onto the bed, you gasp as your back hits the sheets, the air knocked out of you for a second before his body hovers over yours. One hand presses into the mattress, keeping him steady, while the other tangles in your damp hair, tugging just enough to make you whimper into his mouth. His lips move against yours with a hungry rhythm, each kiss deeper, wetter, more desperate than the last.

You moan softly when his tongue brushes against yours, his teeth catching your lower lip in a playful bite. The weight of his body presses against you, his chest warm and hard against your breasts, the heat radiating between you almost unbearable. His hand trails from your hair to your jaw, cupping your face before sliding lower—over your throat, your collarbone, and down to your waist.

Every touch makes you shiver, anticipation pooling inside you. His kisses break only for him to drag his lips along your jaw and down your neck, sucking gently at the sensitive skin until you can’t hold back a breathy moan.

Finally, his hand slips between your thighs, parting them with ease. He teases you at first, his fingers grazing your heat but pulling back just enough to make you squirm. Then, with a low hum against your neck, he presses a finger inside, slow and steady, making your breath hitch. The pace soon builds, his touch deepening, and when he adds another finger, your body arches instinctively. His hard length brushes against your thigh, reminding you of just how much more you’re craving.

‘More,’ you breathe out between messy kisses, your eyes shut tight as if the feeling alone is too much. He pulls back just enough to smirk, his voice low and filthy as it rumbles, ‘My dirty slut.’ Before you can even process the words, his hand snaps across your cheek in a sharp slap that leaves your skin tingling.

Shock mixes with arousal, and you bite your lip hard, your head spinning at how much you like it. No guy has ever been this way with you—none of them ever dared push you like this—and suddenly you realize just how starved you’ve been for something rougher, dirtier.

His hand brushes over the very same cheek he slapped, soothing it almost tenderly, and the contrast makes your stomach twist with heat. Without warning, he scoops you up like you weigh nothing, flipping your body with ease.

‘Get on all fours,’ he orders, his deep voice dark and commanding. The tone alone sends a pulse straight through you. You don’t hesitate. Your palms press into the mattress, your wavy, wet hair falling into your face as you arch your back, spreading your legs wide. Your pussy clenches at the sudden emptiness, desperate for the return of his touch.

Before you can even glance back at him, he grabs your hips to keep you steady and dives in without mercy. His warm, wet tongue slides between your folds, thrusting inside with a skill that rips a loud, shameless moan from your throat. You grip the sheets hard, your knees already trembling, and you swear you hear his low, cocky chuckle vibrate against you as he devours you from behind.

‘Fuck,’ you moan, pushing back against his face as his tongue works deeper. He answers with a sharp smack to your ass before spreading you wider, and you swear you hear the faintest growl rumble in his throat when you squirm under the overwhelming pleasure.

‘Stay,’ he commands against you, his mouth lapping at your folds with relentless hunger.

‘Fuck, Jungkook!’ you cry out, the tension in your stomach snapping all at once as your orgasm crashes over you. Your body shakes violently, juices spilling against his mouth as he licks you through every second of it, devouring you until your moans soften into breathless whimpers.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he groans as he finally pulls back, his lips glistening. Without missing a beat, he flips you onto your back, capturing your mouth in a wet kiss that makes you taste yourself on his tongue.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he reaches into the nightstand, opening a drawer. Your chest rises and falls quickly, heart pounding as he pulls out a condom. The sight of him—muscles slick from the shower, tattoos on full display, cock twitching hard in his fist—nearly makes you dizzy.

He rips the wrapper open, eyes never leaving yours, one brow raised. ‘You sure?’ he asks, voice low but careful, like he needs you to confirm one last time.

Your heart melts at the fact that even now—when he’s this close, this desperate—he’s still making sure you’re ready. You nod slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you whisper, ‘Yes.’

That’s all Jungkook needs. With practiced ease, he slides the condom on, and strokes himself once, almost like he’s steadying his own control. His gaze stays locked on you, dark and heavy, as if he’s reading your every thought.

‘How do you want it?’ he asks, voice low and rough around the edges, each word vibrating straight through you.

Your lips part, breathless but shameless. ‘Missionary,’ you say without hesitation. ‘I want you to see my face.’ You add

Something in his expression shifts—the corner of his mouth lifts into the faintest smirk, but his eyes burn with heat. He swears under his breath, shaking his head slightly like he can’t believe the filthy confidence spilling out of your mouth.

‘Fuck…’ he chuckles darkly, leaning closer, his hair damp and falling over his forehead. ‘You really don’t know what you do to me.’

You bite your lip, anticipation crawling over your skin as he positions himself above you. His strong frame hovers, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, the other trailing slowly down your body, before resting at your hip. His chest brushes yours, his breath hot against your lips.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he settles between your thighs. The weight of him, the heat radiating from his body—it’s intoxicating. He tilts his head, lips ghosting over yours, and you swear your heart might burst from how much you want him in that exact second.

You feel the thick press of him at your entrance—just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. His forehead rests against yours, dark eyes locked on you.

“Look at me,” he rasps, his hand squeezing your hip. “Don’t you dare look away.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails leaving little crescents in his skin. The anticipation coils so tight inside you, it’s almost unbearable, and when he rolls his hips just enough to push against you, a broken moan slips past your lips.

He lets out a grunt, “Holy fuck…” as he finally sinks all the way inside you, the stretch making your body jolt. A sharp gasp rips from your chest, spilling into a moan you can’t hold back. Your nails dig into his back, desperate to anchor yourself, but his gaze never leaves yours—dark, burning, like he’s savoring every flicker of pleasure on your face.

He pulls out slowly, the drag of his cock making your walls tighten around him before he drives back in with a deeper thrust. You cry out, your head falling back, but he catches your chin and forces your eyes to meet his.
“Don’t look away,” he growls, setting a steady rhythm, each snap of his hips rougher than the last.

Your breath comes out in broken gasps, body arching to meet him, every thrust sending shockwaves of heat through you. His hand slides down, pressing against your stomach right where he’s buried inside, making you whimper from the intensity.
“Feel that?” he taunts, voice low and filthy. “That’s me—deep inside you.”

The sound of your wetness fills the room, mixing with his grunts and your moans. His pace picks up, harder, faster, each thrust hitting deeper until you’re nearly sobbing his name. Your legs wrap tighter around his waist, trying to pull him even closer, your body begging for more.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” you cry out, nails scratching down his back as the knot in your stomach coils tighter and tighter. He’s wrecked—mouth open, brows furrowed, teeth clenched—as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss is messy, desperate, all tongue and heat, and still he never slows his pace..

“Cum for me,” he demands against your lips, voice dark and commanding. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles mercilessly in time with his thrusts. The combination is overwhelming, your body trembling beneath him as your orgasm slams into you.

You scream his name, back arching, legs shaking as waves of pleasure crash over you. He groans, pounding through your release, until his own climax rips through him with a deep, broken moan. His body tenses above you, cock twitching inside the condom as he spills, his forehead dropping to yours as he rides it out.

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling out and watching the way your pussy clenches, already missing him. He crashes onto the bed beside you, both of you panting, sweat-slicked and breathless.
“How was it?” he asks between heavy breaths.
You turn your head toward him, smile, and press a soft kiss to his lips. “It was fucking great.”
He grins at that, and you chuckle. “Didn’t realize how badly my sex life was lacking a dominant man.”
That makes him laugh, eyes glinting. “Didn’t realize you were so kinky.” You open your mouth to defend yourself, but he cuts in with a shameless smirk: “You liked being called my slut.”
You swat his tattooed arm, half joking, half flustered.
“I’m gonna shower again,” you mutter, standing with a scrunch of your nose at the mess between your thighs. He bursts out laughing, watching you head for the bathroom.
“Pretty sure we’re forgetting about game night. We were supposed to leave in thirty minutes—it’s been way over that,” he reminds.
Your eyes widen. “Shit! I was supposed to meet Jimin during game night!” Panic hits and you dart for the bathroom, groaning at the discomfort as you move.
“Calm down,” Jungkook calls, still laughing. “The game night won’t end anytime soon.”
“Still!” you shoot back, slamming the door behind you.
“Let me join you at least!” he shouts through the door, and you blow him a dramatic flying kiss before locking it, leaving him with no option but to shower in his own room.

After another quick shower, you slip into something comfortable—black sweatpants and a white crop top that ends just above your belly button. Lotion, perfume, a messy bun after blow-drying your hair—you’re set. Opening your bedroom door, you step into the living room only to be met with the sight of Jeon Jungkook.

He’s lounging there in black sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips, a baggy black shirt draped over his frame, and a beanie tugged over his dark hair. He glances at the invisible watch on his wrist, then at you.

“Took forever,” he says flatly.

You frown. “It was only thirty minutes, Jeon.”

He raises a brow, clearly amused. “Jeon?”

“Yes. Isn’t that part of your name?” you shoot back with a shrug.

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Attitude coming from you is cute.”

You can’t help the small smile that slips onto your lips—until he adds, deadpan, “That’s something I’d never say to you.”

Your smile drops instantly, replaced by an incredulous scoff as you glare at him. Jungkook bursts out laughing at your expression, clearly entertained.

Leaving the cottage, you and Jungkook are met with the sight of everyone gathered in a big circle on the grass around the bonfire. Games have already started—a girl is blindfolded, lips locked with a guy as the crowd cheers, urging her to guess who she’s kissing. The air is loud with laughter, teasing, and whistles.

But your eyes don’t stay there. They find Jimin.

He’s sitting off to the side next to one of his friends, dressed down in a loose black sweater and Adidas sweatpants. The moment his gaze collides with yours, the tension in his shoulders eases. Relief. You give him a soft smile, and he instantly returns it, a little too quickly—like he’s been waiting for it.

When you subtly motion for him to come over, Jungkook takes the hint. His hand briefly caresses the small of your back, grounding you. “Good luck. Call me if you need me,” he mouths, before peeling away toward Namjoon, Hoseok, and Taehyung.

Jimin gets up, walking toward you with that careful, hesitant smile of his. “I thought you wouldn’t come,” he says, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath. His fingers rake through his blonde hair nervously.

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in some work,” you reply—though your mind betrays you, flashing back to the unholy things that just happened with Jungkook minutes ago.

Jimin shakes his head softly. “Oh no, it’s fine.” He motions for you to go ahead, following you as you lead toward the trees, away from the noise and firelight.

“So,” you breathe out as you settle on the grass near a tree trunk.

“So,” he repeats, sinking down beside you. For a second, your eyes lock, and neither of you looks away. The tension is thick—old, familiar, yet sharp enough to cut through the night air. Both of you end up smiling, though it’s tinged with something heavier.

“What did you want to say to me?” you ask quietly.

He shifts, nervous, fingers fidgeting before dragging over the back of his head. His gaze avoids yours, landing anywhere but your eyes. “This is… going to sound weird,” he mutters before burying his face in his palms, hiding behind them.

“Hey, no. It’s okay. Take your time,” you say, gently tugging his wrists down. That’s when you see it—his eyes. Glossy. Teary. It makes your heart sink.

“Are you happy with him?” His voice is low, cold, trembling.

Your breath hitches. “With Jungkook?”

He nods, jaw tight.

You swallow hard, forcing out, “Yes.”

His eyes search yours, raw and burning. “Y/N… I don’t know why, but watching you with another man—it kills me inside.”

Your chest tightens at his honesty. Jimin was never this expressive, not with you. Hearing it now, it leaves you speechless. “Jimin,” you whisper, not even sure what you want to say.

“I hate it so much, Y/N.” His voice cracks as his hands suddenly grip your shoulders. “I miss what we had.”

Your stomach twists—not with longing, but anger. He makes it sound like it wasn’t his choice, like you hadn’t begged him to stay. “You ended it,” you snap, shrugging his hands off and standing up, fury sparking through you.

“I know—” he tries, but you cut him off.

“Jimin, get to the point.”

“I regret it. I regret it, Y/N.” His voice rises, almost desperate now.

You freeze, staring at him, your heart aching at the weight in his eyes.

“I cried so much for us,” you say, voice breaking, tears already spilling before you can stop them. “I skipped meals, I isolated myself. I couldn’t stop drinking. I lost myself trying to find you again.” Your voice shatters completely, tears streaming down your face as the words tumble out—raw and unfiltered.

And Jimin just looks at you like you’re the only person in the world. Like he’s drowning in his own regret.

He gets up, pulling you into his arms before you can resist. Your face buries into his chest, hot tears soaking through the fabric as sobs rack your body. His familiar cologne fills your senses, pulling you back to nights when you were his, when this kind of embrace meant safety instead of confusion.

“Why?” you cry, voice breaking against him. “Why, Jimin!” Your sobs grow louder, but he only holds you tighter, refusing to let go.

“Y/N,” he whispers, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other tightening around your waist as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You eventually start to calm, your cries softening into shaky sniffles, though your chest still feels heavy. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head.

“I want to tell you everything,” he continues quietly. “I want to talk to you again. But not like this. Not with you breaking apart in my arms. I’m glad you let out some of the pain you’ve been carrying—”

“This isn’t even all of it,” you cut in, voice sharp, trembling. “You don’t know how much more I’ve been holding in.”

“I know,” he admits, eyes pained. “I know, Y/N.” He hesitates, then asks, voice softer than ever, “Can we… talk again? When you’re ready?”

You lift your face from his chest, finally meeting his eyes. They’re glassy, guilty, searching for something you’re not sure you can give yet. Anger simmers in you—because why now? Why regret everything when you begged him not to leave? But beneath the anger is something else too: a longing for answers. For closure. Maybe even for him.

Your throat tight, you give a stiff nod. “I’ll text you.”

Relief flashes in his eyes as he nods back. He hugs you once more, carefully this time, wiping away the last of your tears with his thumb. But before he can pull you deeper into him again, you push him back gently. Not tonight. Not when it still hurts this much.

So you leave him standing there beneath the trees, your heart aching, your mind whirling, and Jimin watching you walk away as if he’s terrified it might be the last time.

Chapter 10: Ashes and Afterglow

Walking toward one of the stalls where drinks were stacked, you grab a can of beer and crack it open, chugging half of it down in one go. The bitter taste burns your throat, but it doesn’t matter—you just need something to drown the frustration.

“What does he think of himself,” you mumble, lips pouting as you take another angry gulp.

“Woah there.”
A deep voice cuts in, and suddenly, a strong hand rests low on your waist—just slightly above your hip, enough to send shivers down your spine. The familiar scent of his cologne hits you before you even turn your head. Jungkook.

He’s towering over you, eyebrow raised, concern flickering in his eyes. The moment he spotted you chugging like that, he ditched his friends at the bonfire without a second thought.

“He’s a piece of shit!” you blurt, annoyed, gripping the can tighter.

Jungkook’s hand stays on your lower back, thumb brushing up and down in slow strokes that make your chest tighten. “What did he say?” he asks, voice steady but careful.

You think about it again, the words replaying in your head, and your throat burns worse than the beer. Your eyes water, and before you can stop yourself, you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s solid waist. He doesn’t hesitate—his arms circle your shoulders immediately, pulling you into his chest.

“I don’t want to cry again, Kook,” you whisper, voice cracking.

His palm slides gently over the back of your head, the other smoothing down your hair. “It’s okay to cry,” he murmurs, low and comforting, holding you tighter. “It’s okay to let it out.”

You let the hug swallow you, let his warmth press against your shaking body until you can finally breathe again.

When you pull back slightly, you sniffle, staring at the ground. “He… he said he regrets it. That he doesn’t like seeing me with you. He didn’t even tell me why he ended it—I was crying too hard. He wants to see me again. I told him I’d text him.”

“Wah,” Jungkook mutters, jaw tightening, his dark eyes narrowing. “He really is a piece of shit.”

His hand comes up to brush your cheek as he asks quickly, “Do you even want to see him again?”

You nod, a small, pained one. “I want to know why he did it.”

He studies your face, then nods back slowly, accepting it. “Do you want to head back to the cottage?” he asks softly, almost hesitant.

You loosen your hold on his waist, stepping back just a little. “No. I’d rather be here than alone… thinking about it.” A broken laugh slips out of you, but it lightens the air for a second.

That earns you one of his rare, gentle smiles. Without a word, Jungkook extends his hand toward you. You stare at it for a beat, then slip your fingers into his, letting him lead you back.

Together, you walk toward the circle of people near the fire, the sound of laughter and games pulling you in. And though the crowd is loud, all you can focus on is the warmth of his hand in yours.

Sitting with the rest of the crowd, you watch as the empty bottle spins on the grass, your heart jumping when it slows… and lands directly on you. A chorus of cheers erupts instantly. You feel every pair of eyes on you, your stomach twisting.

‘Truth or dare?’ a girl asks eagerly.

‘Truth,’ you say with a small smile, playing it safe.

‘Oh, don’t be boring,’ Nara cuts in with a scoff, rolling her eyes while her little group of friends giggle.

Your pride prickles. With a tiny smirk, you snap back, ‘Fine. Dare.’ The words leave your lips before you can stop yourself, and regret instantly floods you.

Nara’s lips curl, and she leans forward, her gaze sharp and sly. ‘That’s the spirit!’

‘Oooooh, this is gonna be good,’ Taehyung says, his boxy grin wide as he claps.

‘Sooo… why don’t you give your hot boyfriend a lap dance?’ the same girl blurts out, and the crowd loses it. Everyone starts screaming and chanting for you to do it.

Your eyes dart toward Jungkook. He’s leaning back casually, one thick arm resting on his knee, head tilted ever so slightly. His dark eyes lock onto yours, tongue flicking across his lip piercing. He’s not giving you a cute smile—no, this one’s dark, dirty, and full of challenge.

Behind him, you catch sight of Nara. She’s the only one not cheering, her lips pressed into a tight little frown, her arms crossed. That makes you grin—if only to spite her.

Maybe it’s the alcohol buzzing through your veins, maybe it’s Jungkook’s smirk daring you silently—but either way, you grab your beer, tip back the last gulp, and slam it down.

‘Hell yeah!’ you yell, getting to your feet. The crowd erupts.

A chair is dragged into the center, and Jungkook takes it like he owns the place, spreading his legs wide in that cocky, masculine way that makes your mouth dry. He leans back, completely relaxed, his gaze never leaving yours, like he already knows he’s won.

You let your eyes trail over him—broad shoulders under his baggy black shirt, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips, tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves. And then… back to his face, where that same sinful smirk waits for you.

You take a deep breath, smirk of your own tugging at your lips, and step toward him, every cheer and scream fading into background noise.

The crowd whistles and cheers louder as you walk toward Jungkook, your hips swaying a little more than usual. You stop in front of him, staring down at the man who looks like temptation carved into flesh. His dark gaze rakes over your body, slow and deliberate, and the smirk tugging at his lips makes your stomach flip.

‘Show me what you’ve got,’ he murmurs low enough for only you to hear, his tone mocking and sinful at the same time.

The challenge in his voice sparks something inside you. You place both hands on his shoulders, slowly climbing onto his lap, your knees straddling him. The crowd roars at the sight. Jungkook doesn’t move—he sits perfectly still, except for the way his fingers twitch against his thighs like he’s resisting the urge to touch you.

Leaning in close, you let your breath tickle his ear before pulling back, rolling your hips in a slow, taunting grind against his lap. His jaw flexes, that cocky smile faltering just enough for you to know you’re getting to him.

‘Damn!’ Hoseok shouts from the circle, earning more laughter and cheers.

You trail your fingers down his chest, over the fabric of his shirt, then push yourself back slightly so your body rolls fluidly with the music in the background. Jungkook’s eyes never leave you, his lip piercing caught between his teeth.

‘You’re enjoying this way too much,’ you whisper, smirking.

‘You have no idea,’ he mutters back, low and husky.

Your hands slide down his shoulders to his thighs, pushing his legs open just a little wider before arching your back and grinding down harder. His breath catches, and you swear you hear the faintest growl deep in his chest, though to everyone else he still looks calm, collected, in control.

The crowd is going crazy now—whistles, chants, laughter—Taehyung practically falling over as he claps. But it’s only Jungkook you’re focused on, the way his eyes darken, the tension vibrating off him like he’s barely holding himself back.

Finally, you lean in close, lips brushing his ear as you murmur, ‘That good enough for you, Jeon?’

He tilts his head toward you, corners of his lips lifting up, voice so deep you almost shiver: ‘Careful, baby. You keep this up, and I won’t be able to stop at just a dare.’

You pull back, smirking boldly for the crowd as you slide off his lap, the circle erupting in wild cheers. Nara looks pissed, and you? You look like you just won.

“Holy shit, that was hot!” Hoseok yells, half falling over in laughter.

“Your turn, Taehyung!” someone shouts, and all heads swivel toward him. That’s when you notice how wasted Taehyung actually is. His cheeks are flushed, his words slurred, and he’s swaying even while sitting down. Namjoon tries to steady him, but Taehyung just waves him off with a drunken grin.

“Truth or dare, Tae?” someone asks.

“Dare,” he slurs immediately, throwing his hands up like he’s the king of the night.

“Alright… I dare you to tell us the juiciest secret you know about someone here.”

The crowd erupts, half of them laughing, half of them chanting, “Do it! Do it!”

Your stomach drops. Jungkook stiffens next to you, his hand—resting on your thigh—tightening instantly. You shoot him a quick look, panic flashing in your eyes.

Taehyung grins wide, leaning forward, his words dragging. “Oh, you guys don’t even know. I know something sooo good. About… about these two right here—” He points between you and Jungkook, his finger wobbling in the air.

Your entire body goes cold.

That’s when a ripple of distraction cuts through the silence.

“Yo, Jimin’s here!” someone says, pointing toward the edge of the firelight.

Heads turn for just a moment—Jimin is walking in casually, sweater sleeves tugged over his hands, scanning the group before giving a quick nod. A couple of people call his name, greeting him with smiles and waves. He offers a small smile back, sliding into the crowd like he never left.

But the attention doesn’t hold long. The tension at the center pulls everyone right back to Taehyung, who’s now grinning lazily, mouth opening like he’s about to drop the bomb.

“Alright, game’s over.” Jungkook’s voice cuts sharp, calm but commanding. He claps Taehyung on the back hard enough to make him stumble. “Come on, bro, you’ve had enough.”

The group groans in protest, but Jungkook is already on his feet, dragging Taehyung up with him before he can spill another word. Namjoon catches on and quickly helps him guide Taehyung away, muttering something about water.

You’re left frozen in your seat, heart pounding, eyes darting to Jimin—who’s still watching. His jaw flexes as if he knows something isn’t adding up.

The girl hosting the game forces a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Okayyy, I guess it’s break time, huh? Drinks, anyone?”

Everyone starts moving again, the tension scattering, but Jimin’s gaze never leaves yours.

The circle slowly starts buzzing again after Jungkook and Namjoon drag Taehyung away, but the air still feels a little stiff. People shuffle, laugh awkwardly, trying to shake off the almost-secret.

“Alright, let’s spin again!” someone yells, and the crowd perks back up. The bottle spins, the firelight bouncing off the glass until it slows… and lands directly on Jimin.

A few people clap, teasing him. “Finally! Blondie’s turn!”

He lifts his head slowly, his small smile almost shy. “Guess so.”

“Truth or dare?” the host asks.

“Truth,” Jimin answers simply.

Groans erupt from the crowd. “Boring!” someone shouts.

But another voice cuts through—louder, playful: “Fine then, let’s make it good. Jimin, do you have an ex you just can’t move on from?”

The circle gasps and bursts into laughter, some people whistling, others chanting for him to answer. You freeze, beer can halfway to your lips.

Jimin’s jaw tightens, his eyes dropping to the fire. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, slowly, his gaze flickers up—and lands right on you.

Your chest squeezes so tight you almost forget to breathe.

“…Yes.” His voice is calm, but heavy, the single word hanging in the smoky night air.

The crowd goes wild, shouting and laughing, pushing him for details. Jimin only shakes his head with a small smile, but his eyes never leave yours.

The noise around you blurs into static. Someone laughs too loudly. Someone else whistles. But all you can hear is the faint pounding in your ears.

That single word from Jimin plays on a loop — yes.
Yes, he can’t move on.
Yes, he still feels something.
Yes… maybe for you.

You blink hard, staring into the fire instead of at him. It’s safer that way. The flames dance and crackle, mocking the mess churning inside you.

“Hey.”

Jungkook’s voice pulls you back. You hadn’t even noticed he returned — but there he is, settling beside you again, his hair slightly damp from the cold air, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up. He hands you a fresh drink wordlessly.

You take it without looking at him. “Thanks.”

He studies you for a second. “You okay?”

You nod, lying automatically. “Yeah.”

“Liar,” he mutters, almost teasing — but there’s a softness in it that makes your throat tighten.

You let out a shaky laugh, the kind that isn’t really a laugh at all. “I’m fine, Kook. It’s just… stupid.”

He doesn’t push. He just leans back, resting his elbows on his knees, watching the fire the same way you are. A few minutes pass in silence, filled only by the sound of popping wood and distant music.

Then, quietly, he says, “You don’t have to pretend around me, you know.”

You turn your head toward him, brows pulling together. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs, eyes still on the fire. “I mean… you act like everything’s fine, even when it’s not. You’re good at it.” His lips twitch, a ghost of a smirk. “Too good.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the strange twist in your chest. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who bottles literally everything.”

That earns you a quiet chuckle from him — low and genuine. “Touché.”

The sound pulls a real smile from you this time. Just for a second.

Across the circle, Jimin’s still talking to someone, but you can feel when his gaze flickers back toward you — sharp, unreadable. You don’t look at him, but your body knows.

Jungkook’s voice breaks the tension again, casual but grounding:
“Wanna head back soon? Looks like Taehyung’s about to pass out in the fire.”

You glance up — and sure enough, Taehyung is half-asleep on Hoseok’s shoulder, mumbling nonsense while Namjoon shakes his head.

You snort softly. “Yeah… probably a good idea.”

Jungkook stands first, offering his hand again. This time, you hesitate before taking it. His fingers curl gently around yours, steady and warm, and it’s… easy. Too easy.

As you walk past the circle, Jimin’s voice calls out behind you.
“Y/N.”

You stop, your heartbeat stumbling.

He’s looking up at you now, the firelight painting gold across his face, expression unreadable. “Can we talk later?”

You swallow. “Yeah. Sure.”

He nods once, quiet. “Good.”

You turn back toward the path, following Jungkook through the trees, the firelight fading behind you. The air is cooler here, quieter — only the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant hum of voices.

After a few steps, Jungkook glances sideways at you. “You gonna be okay talking to him?”

You nod slowly. “I think so.”

“Just… don’t let him mess with your head again,” he says, voice low but firm.

You huff a tiny laugh. “You sound like my therapist.”

“Hotter, though,” he says instantly, his tone teasing enough to make you roll your eyes but smile anyway.

“Barely,” you shoot back, shoving his shoulder lightly.

He grins — wide and boyish this time, no smirk, no taunt. Just warmth.

The cottage feels too quiet when you walk in — the kind of quiet that hums in your ears after being surrounded by music and laughter all night.

You close the door softly behind you, your body still warm from the bonfire and the alcohol. Jungkook went back earlier to drop Taehyung off after he got sick, so you assume he’s asleep by now.

You sigh, slipping out of your jacket. The faint smell of smoke still clings to your hair. You peel off your party clothes and change into one of Jungkook’s oversized shirts that you stole from the laundry pile — soft, black, and way too big, but comfortable. You pull your hair up into a messy bun and glance at yourself in the small mirror by the window. Your eyes are tired.

You should sleep.
But your head feels too loud.

Jimin’s voice keeps echoing. Yes.
That one word — calm, heavy, final.

You grab your phone, thinking about distracting yourself with music, but stop when you hear something from the living room — a low clink of glass, the muffled sound of someone shifting around.

Your brows knit together. “Jungkook?”

When you step out, the soft golden light from a single lamp spills across the living room. He’s there — sitting on the couch, hair a little messy, hoodie sleeves pushed up, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table beside him.

He glances up when he hears you. “Couldn’t sleep?” His voice is rough, low, like he hasn’t spoken in a while.

You fold your arms, staying near the doorway. “You’re drinking alone?”

He gives a half shrug, taking another sip straight from the bottle. “It’s peaceful.”

“Or depressing.”

That makes him huff a quiet laugh. “Maybe both.”

You hesitate, but your feet move anyway. You walk over and sit down across from him on the other end of the couch, tucking your legs under you. The silence stretches for a moment — just the faint tick of the old wall clock and the soft buzz of the lamp.

He tilts the bottle in his hand, eyes fixed on it. “You ever think about how some people just… break you without even realizing it?”

You blink, caught off guard. “That’s random.”

He gives a crooked smile. “You didn’t answer.”

You shrug lightly. “Yeah. I guess I have.”

He leans his head back, gaze flickering to the ceiling. “My ex was like that. Made me feel like I was never enough. Always one step behind. She said she liked me for who I was, but every day, it felt like she was trying to make me someone else.”

You stay quiet. His voice is calm, but there’s a tired edge beneath it — the kind that comes from remembering something that still stings.

“She left for someone else,” he continues, almost to himself. “Said he was ‘more her type.’” He scoffs softly. “Whatever that means.”

You watch him for a moment. “You really liked her?”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. Stupidly.”

Something in your chest pulls — not pity exactly, but understanding. “That sucks, Jungkook.”

He turns his head toward you, eyes meeting yours for the first time. The whiskey’s made his gaze softer, slower. “Guess we both suck at love, huh?”

You let out a small breath of laughter. “Guess so.”

For a while, neither of you says anything. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, though — it just sits there between you, steady, quiet.

Then he says, almost under his breath, “You look… different tonight.”

Your brows raise. “Different how?”

He takes a second, eyes flicking over you — the loose shirt, your hair up, the soft light touching your face. “I don’t know. Just… real, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it lightly at him. “You’re drunk.”

He catches it with a lazy grin. “Still true.”

You shake your head, standing up. “Go to bed before you start crying and ruin your tough guy image.”

He chuckles, low and tired. “You make it sound like I have one.”

You turn halfway toward the hall, pausing when he speaks again — quieter this time, almost slurred.
“Hey, Y/N…”

You glance back.

He’s leaning back on the couch, head tilted, eyes half-lidded. “You’re easier to talk to than I thought.”

You give him a small smile — the kind that’s there and gone in a second. “Goodnight, Kook.”

“’Night,” he mumbles.

Chapter 11: Keep Talking, Nara

The sound of birds chirping drags you out of sleep, sunlight spilling through the thin curtains and warming your face. You groan, rolling onto your back and stretching lazily before squinting at your phone on the nightstand.

10:00 a.m.

Your eyes snap open.
Great. You'd promised yourself you'd wake up early—maybe even take a morning walk, clear your head after last night. But apparently, your body had other plans.

"Nice," you mumble, voice raspy as you let out a tired laugh at your own failed self-discipline.

You finally swing your legs out of bed, hair a total mess, pajamas wrinkled beyond saving. Grabbing your phone, you force yourself not to scroll first thing, which feels harder than running a marathon.

When you open the bedroom door, the smell of eggs and butter instantly fills the air—warm and inviting. You follow it to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes... only to stop dead in your tracks.

Standing by the stove, flipping an omelet, is Jungkook.
Shirtless.

You freeze, mouth parting slightly. His back flexes with every small movement, tattoos peeking from his shoulder down his arm, muscles shifting under smooth skin. The morning light hits him just right—soft, golden, unfair.

"Damn," you whisper under your breath before you can stop yourself.

He must've heard you, because the corner of his mouth lifts into that infuriating smirk as he glances over his shoulder. His eyes find yours, and there's that spark of teasing amusement again.

"Omelet?" he asks, one brow arched, tone casual but laced with quiet confidence.

You blink rapidly, realizing you've been staring. "Oh—uh, yeah," you stammer, scratching the back of your neck. "Just... let me brush my teeth first."

He chuckles, a low sound that makes your chest tighten, and turns back to the stove. "Take your time," he says, still smiling.

You scurry away before your brain can short-circuit any further, the sound of his soft laugh following you down the hall.

"Mhmmm!" you exclaim, mouth full of the fluffy omelet Jungkook made. "Okay—wow. This is actually amazing."

Jungkook looks up from his plate, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I was totally expecting something burnt or, like, way too salty," you tease, grinning.

He scoffs. "Wow. You really had zero faith in me, huh?"

You laugh, taking another bite. "I mean, I didn't not have faith. I just... didn't think you'd survive without instant ramen."

He shakes his head with a grin, leaning back in his chair. "You took me way too lightly. I can cook, you know."

You smirk. "That's the bare minimum. Everyone should know how to cook—for survival."

He gasps dramatically. "It's not that hard to just appreciate my cooking skills, but your ego—"

"What ego?" you cut in quickly, pointing your fork at him. "Don't got one."

His brows lift as he slowly raises both hands in mock surrender. "Put that down."

"Or what?" you challenge, tilting your head, fork still aimed his way.

He leans back, smirking. "You'll see."

You poke the fork lightly against his arm—just enough to make him flinch. "There. I saw nothing."

That's all it takes. Jungkook's chair scrapes back suddenly as he stands up, and you instantly jump up too.

"Oh, shit—" you squeal, darting away from the table.

He's already laughing, chasing you around the living room. You scream and laugh, dodging the couch, but he's faster—so much faster.

"Jungkook! No, no—wait!" you shout through giggles.

He catches you easily, arms wrapping around your waist before he lifts you like it's nothing, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Gotcha," he says, laughing as you kick your legs in protest, your hair hanging down and your hands pounding playfully at his back.

"Put me down!" you squeal, laughing too hard to sound serious.

"Say you're sorry for insulting my cooking," he teases, voice smug.

"Never!" you shout, wriggling in his grip.

"Jungkook, I swear if you drop—"

"Ahhh!" you scream as he pretends to let go. Your heart nearly skips a beat, but this jerk only laughs at your panic.

"Put me down, you loser!" you shout, hitting his back, but you're cut off by his laughter.

He finally sets you down on the kitchen counter, still laughing, standing between your legs. Your face burns when his eyes linger on you — you can feel the tension in the air, thick and hard to ignore.

He tilts his head slightly, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. "You look like you've just remembered something," he says, voice low, almost taunting.

You blink, flustered. "Shut up," you mutter, trying to hide your face, but it only makes him grin wider.

He leans in closer, both arms circling your waist, elbows resting lightly on your thighs. Your hands naturally move up, resting around his shoulders as your breath catches.

"Don't look at me like that," he whispers, his voice rougher now.

"Like what?" you ask, feigning innocence, though your pulse betrays you.

"Like you want me to touch you," he murmurs, his eyes locked with yours.

Your teeth gently catch your lower lip as you hold his gaze, the silence between you louder than any words could be.

For a second, neither of you moves — his breath brushing against your cheek, his hands firm around your waist. It's like both of you are waiting for the other to break first.

"Jungkook..." you whisper, not even sure what you're about to say.

"Yeah?" he replies, voice low, his eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes.

You open your mouth to say something, maybe tell him to back off, but your words die when his thumb grazes the corner of your mouth — slow, almost testing. Your breath hitches.

He doesn't push it; he just waits. And when you don't pull away, his hand slides up to your jaw, tilting your face up just enough for your noses to brush.

You don't know who leans in first. Maybe it's him. Maybe it's you. But then his lips are on yours — soft at first, almost hesitant, like he's giving you a chance to stop him.

You don't.

The kiss deepens — slow, intoxicating — his hand tightening at your waist as yours move up to his hair.

When he pulls back just slightly, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard.

"That was..." you start, but can't finish.

"Yeah," he says, chuckling softly, his voice still rough. He looks down at his buldge, "Probably shouldn't have done that."

You stare at it slowly nodding, but neither of you move. His hands are still on your waist, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

"Probably," you echo, voice barely above a whisper.

And yet, when he kisses you again — slower this time, almost careful — you let him.

The bulge between his legs presses right against you, brushing your heat and stealing your breath every time it makes contact.

"Fuck," he groans when you suddenly wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. The movement makes his head fall back, eyes squeezing shut, lips parting as a low sound escapes him. You bite your lip hard, a shiver running through you as the air between you thickens.

He opens his eyes again, gaze dark and unreadable. For a second, neither of you says a word—only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space between you.

His hand moves to your cheek, thumb tracing your skin softly, as if grounding himself. "You don't know what you're doing to me," he whispers, his voice rough but quiet, like he's afraid to break whatever spell this is.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your pulse racing beneath his touch. "Then don't make me stop," you whisper back, barely audible.

His eyes stay locked on yours as you start to move against him, your breath catching when he bites his lip and shuts his eyes. He grabs the back of your head gently, tilting it back as his lips find your neck. A low hum escapes him, the sound vibrating against your skin, before he pulls back just enough to tug at your shirt.

He presses soft kisses down your chest, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "Take it off for me."

You don't hesitate, slipping off your bra, and he doesn't waste a second before his lips are back on your skin — rougher this time, more urgent. You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair as he trails his mouth lower, every touch making it harder to breathe.

Your pulse races, your whole body aching for more, every nerve alive and burning with want.

"Lie down," he says, voice low but firm.

Your eyes widen slightly. "What...?"

He doesn't bother replying. Instead, his hands find your hips and push you back gently until your back meets the cool surface of the counter. His eyes hold yours the entire time, dark and unreadable.

You swallow hard, giving him the faintest nod.

A faint smirk tugs at his lips as his hands slide down, fingers brushing the waistband of your sweatpants. His movements are slow, almost hesitant at first, like he's testing if you'll stop him. When you don't, his grip tightens, and he pulls them down in one smooth motion, eyes flicking up to meet yours again.

Your heart pounds so loudly you're sure he can hear it. His gaze softens for a second, almost like he's checking in — making sure you're okay — before that familiar intensity returns.

You squirm beneath his touch as his fingers move to your covered clit and begin slowly massaging in circles. When his fingers glide into your underwear, you gasp breathlessly and close your eyes in pleasure, tightening your pussy at every move he makes. "Yes, baby?" As he slowly moves his fingers and adds another one while reading your face, he asks you a meaningful question. His eyes are fixed on yours as his pace quickens and one hand gently chokes you on the neck. "I'm going to cum, fuck!"

You gasp, the rush of sensation vanishing just as suddenly as it came. Your breath stutters as you stare at him, confusion and frustration mixing in your chest. "Why would you stop?" you demand, your voice trembling between anger and want.

A slow, smug smile spreads across his face. "Did you really think I'd make it that easy, huh?" he says, his tone low and teasing.

"Get on all fours," his voice comes out low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes widen in surprise.
"W-what?" you manage to whisper.
"You heard me," he replies, his tone firm and unyielding.

Your breath quickens at the sound of his voice, and before you can even think twice, you do as he says. The soft rustle of fabric follows—his pants, you realize—and the thought of what's about to happen only makes your heartbeat race faster.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice quieter now, but still holding that same edge. You nod almost too quickly, earning a low chuckle from him that makes your skin tingle.

Yes' is all he needs to hear before he reaches into his bag and pulls out a condom. You blink in disbelief, still on all fours on the kitchen counter — he really came prepared. The air between you turns heavy, anticipation building with every breath. When he moves closer, your pulse quickens; the heat of his body presses against yours, and as he enters your thoughts scatter. His touch is slow, deliberate, almost teasing — enough to make your breath hitch and your body tense. His low groan fills the room, and the sound alone sends a shiver through you. You close your eyes, holding onto the counter, completely lost in the rush of it all.

"Fuck Jungkook!" You groan loudly as he quickens his pace, and the wet sound of your skin meeting is audible in your ears. "Fuck baby," he groans as you clench around him. His balls smack against your pussy as he rubs your clit in quick circular motions, making you moan even more. His strong, quick pace makes it almost embarrassing to admit that you came too quickly; you've never come this quickly before, but not only did you squirt, he cums immediately after you, pulls out his cock, flipping you onto your back. You can see his gorgeous face, eyebrows pinched together, and his eyes fixed on your body as he cums all over your stomach.

You let out a chuckle as you stare at his panting self, still catching your own breath. "What a mess," you say playfully, scrunching your nose. He looks up at you with a grin before leaning in to give your swollen lips a gentle peck.

Without any warning, he suddenly lifts you into his arms bridal style, making you almost squeal. "Oh my—" you start, but he only smiles down at you.

"Gotta clean my mess, you know," he says jokingly, and your heart clenches a little at how unexpectedly sweet he's being.

He carries you to the bathroom and sets you down, stepping into the shower with you — not that you mind at all.

"Yah! It's hot!" you gasp when he turns on the water, and it's too warm for you to even stand under.

He laughs boyishly. "You'll get used to it."

The moment you splash water at his face, he starts tickling you under the shower, making you burst into laughter.

"Pass me the shampoo," he says between chuckles.

"And what if I don't?" you shoot back instantly.

"Then..." he smirks, tickling you again until you squeal, "Okay! Okay!" and finally hand him the bottle of shampoo.

After showering, you both got ready. Today was the last day at camp, and you wanted to make the most out of it.

"Okay, so how about this spot right here?" you say, pointing at the map one of the ladies gave you when you first got here. It's a perfect place to take pictures and make videos — just a ten-minute drive to almost the top of the mountain.

"That means we'd have to leave right now. Can't waste much time," Jungkook says as he dries his hair with a towel, walking out of the bathroom with another towel wrapped around his torso. You don't miss the way his abs flex when he turns his body toward you — but you try not to think about it. Or maybe, you try too hard not to.

"Hmm, true. Let me see if there are any nearby events we could go to after," you say, grabbing your phone. You're still standing there with only a towel wrapped around your body and your damp hair hanging loose. You almost forget about it until you catch Jungkook staring.

"What?" you ask, looking at him in disbelief.

He shrugs casually. "You're just too beautiful. Can't help it," he says like it's nothing, making your heart skip a beat.

You immediately turn around to find a loose shirt to throw on.

"Did you find anything?" Jungkook asks, spraying some of his manly cologne as he closes the bathroom door behind him. He's now fully dressed — black cargo shorts, an oversized black T-shirt, chunky sneakers, and a baseball cap.

"No," you say, your voice low and a little disappointed. "There's nothing much to do. We've explored almost every place here as a group."

"How about we ask Nara?" he suggests.

You look at him, clearly annoyed. "Anyone but her," you say.

"Why? She's a nice girl," he replies, which only makes you scoff.

"Totally," you mutter sarcastically. You don't exactly hate her — you just can't stand her fake, rude energy. Especially since you've done nothing to her personally. You just hate how she dislikes you for no reason at all.

"Well, think about it — she works here, I'm sure she knows some great places," he says. He's not wrong, and you know it.

"Fine," you sigh. You couldn't find any good places anyway.

He takes out his phone to call her, and she answers faster than a heartbeat.

"Of course! I'd be glad to help, Kook," she says through the phone, her tone dripping with sweetness.

You raise an eyebrow, snorting. "Since when did she start calling you Kook like that?" you ask, laughing at her cringy tone.

Jungkook only shakes his head dramatically, rubbing his temples as he hangs up. It's weird — and even weirder how he doesn't seem to notice how weird she is.

"Get ready, she'll be here any minute," he says, getting up and walking out of the room.

You mimic his deep voice under your breath, rolling your eyes. "As if I care about her," you mumble quietly.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings while you're finishing your makeup. You already know who it is the moment you hear that loud, high-pitched voice.

You slip into your outfit — blue denim shorts, a sleeveless light pink crop top, and a white cap. Your hair is in two neat braids, your makeup soft and natural.

When you step out of the room, you spot her sitting on the couch next to Jungkook. "Oh, hey," you greet, forcing a polite smile when her eyes meet yours.

She gives you a quick once-over, her gaze trailing up and down before she forces a small smile. "Hi," she replies curtly.

She's wearing a white mini skirt with a matching top that blends into it, almost like a dress. Her long, blonde hair is down — wavy and voluminous — and her makeup, as always, looks flawless.

Maybe Jungkook notices the awkward silence between you and Nara, because he quickly jumps in. "Oh, Nara was telling me about this restaurant nearby — she said it's worth going to."

You nod slowly. "Oh, and there's a nearby store a lot of tourists visit," she adds with a practiced smile.

"Perfect, then let's get going?" you say, and Jungkook nods.

As you walk toward his car, you notice Nara picking up her pace — clearly trying to reach the passenger seat first. Jungkook is still locking up the cottage behind you, completely oblivious.

Normally, you'd let someone else sit there. But this isn't just someone else. Nara doesn't like you, and you don't like her — so there's no need to be overly nice.

Just as her hand reaches for the door handle, you say sweetly, "Wait, I'm his girlfriend — so I'll be sitting here." You tilt your head to the side, giving her your most polite fake smile.

Her eyes narrow instantly, her smile tight. "Well, I'll be guiding him on where to go," she replies, her voice cold, trying — and failing — to hide her irritation.

"There's something called a GPS," you say sarcastically, scrunching your nose as you brush past her. You pull open the door and slip into the passenger seat, feeling her glare burning through you from outside.

Jungkook walks up just then, keys in hand. "What's wrong?" he asks, noticing the tension.

You're about to say nothing when Nara cuts in, smiling too sweetly. "Oh, nothing. I'm sitting in the back so your girlfriend doesn't feel insecure."

Jungkook blinks, clearly confused.

"Insecure? Of who exactly? You?" you shoot back without missing a beat, glaring at her.

Now both of you are locked in a silent standoff until Jungkook looks between you two and sighs.

"What exactly did I miss?" he asks, completely lost.

"Nothing!" you and Nara shout at the same time, making his jaw drop slightly in disbelief.

The ride starts off quiet — too quiet. Jungkook turns the music on low, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while focusing on the road. You glance at him from the corner of your eye — he looks unfairly good behind the wheel, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the gearshift, his tattoos peeking through the hem of his sleeve.

From the back seat, Nara leans forward slightly. "So Kook—"
You roll your eyes at the nickname. "—the place is about fifteen minutes from here, take a right at the next turn."

"Got it," Jungkook says casually.

You turn your head toward the window, crossing your arms. She's definitely doing it on purpose — dragging out every word just to get his attention.

Jungkook glances at you. "You okay?"
"Yep," you reply, forcing a small smile. "Just enjoying the scenery."

He smirks a little, clearly sensing your mood. "You sure?"
You shrug, pretending to look out the window again. "Positive."

"Aw, don't be mad," Nara says suddenly from the back, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I was just helping him navigate."

"Don't worry," you reply, turning your head slowly to meet her gaze through the rearview mirror. "He manages just fine without anyone guiding him."

Jungkook chuckles under his breath, trying not to laugh. "Can you two not start a war in my car?"

You both glance at him, then at each other, before mumbling, "We're not."

He shakes his head but smiles anyway, clearly amused.

When you finally arrive at the restaurant, he parks the car and stretches his arms. "We made it," he says, looking relieved.

The three of you step into the restaurant — a cozy outdoor café perched on the side of the hill, sunlight spilling across the tables and the scent of freshly baked bread in the air. The view stretches endlessly, trees swaying below and the sky bright blue above.

"Wow," you say softly, taking in the scenery. "It's actually beautiful here."

"Told you," Nara says, flipping her hair with a proud smile as if she hand-picked the view herself. Jungkook just hums in agreement, pulling out a chair.

He gestures for you to sit first, and you do — trying not to read too much into the small, gentlemanly habit he has. Nara, of course, sits directly across from him, placing her elbows on the table and leaning forward like she's posing for a magazine.

"So, Jungkook," she starts again, twirling her straw in her iced latte, "how's the camp been for you? I mean, besides having to deal with..." Her eyes dart toward you, a playful smirk forming. "...all the drama."

You bite your tongue, offering a calm smile. "Oh, don't worry. I make his camp life a little more exciting."

Jungkook nearly chokes on his drink, hiding a grin behind his hand. "You definitely do," he says, glancing your way — and your stomach flips at the way his eyes linger for a moment longer than they should.

Nara laughs softly at Jungkook's reaction, but it's not the sweet kind — it's sharp around the edges. "You two must keep things interesting," she says, her tone light but the look in her eyes anything but.

"Oh, you have no idea," Jungkook replies, smiling. He leans back in his chair, resting one arm on the backrest. "She's always either arguing with me or stealing my snacks."

"Hey!" you protest, pretending to glare at him. "That was one time—and you said you didn't want them!"

He grins wider. "You finished the entire bag in five minutes."

"Please," Nara says under her breath, swirling her drink, "I don't know how you put up with that."

Your brows lift. "Oh, I'm sure it's not that hard," you say, matching her tone with a tight smile.

Jungkook looks between you two, sensing something but clearly unsure what. "Okay, okay," he laughs, trying to lighten the air. "You both might end up scaring the waiter away."

Nara tilts her head toward him, her voice turning syrupy again. "I'm just saying, some guys like calm girls, you know? The ones who don't... argue so much."

You feel the jab, but instead of reacting, you smile sweetly. "Yeah, and some guys like a challenge. Keeps things exciting."

Jungkook smirks slightly, looking amused. "She's got a point," he says, nudging your arm playfully — and that makes Nara's smile falter for a split second.

Lunch continues with her fake laughs and passive-aggressive remarks. Jungkook keeps the conversation going, completely oblivious to the tension. You try to stay calm, focusing on your food, but every time she laughs a little too loud at something he says, your grip tightens around your fork.

You bite into your food, pretending not to care while Nara talks and talks — like she's the main character in some overly glamorous story.

"So, Jungkook," she says with that practiced smile, "you've got everyone talking about your volleyball skills. I swear, you make the rest of the guys look like amateurs."

He chuckles, shaking his head modestly. "It's not that serious. It's just camp, not a tournament."

She leans in closer. "Still, you've got that... competitive energy. I can tell."

You swirl your straw in your drink, letting out a quiet sigh. "Competitive energy," you repeat under your breath. "That's one way to say he doesn't like losing."

Jungkook glances at you with a small grin. "She's not wrong," he admits, and there's something playful in the way he says it — like he's actually including you in the conversation, not just letting Nara talk at him.

"Right," Nara says, flicking her hair. "But that's a good thing. Guys who know what they want always stand out."

You tilt your head. "Guess that depends on what they want."

Jungkook glances between the two of you, clearly sensing the edge beneath your words but trying not to show it. "Alright," he says lightly, setting his fork down, "before this turns into a debate, how about we check out that souvenir store by the parking lot?"

Nara brightens immediately. "Oh my god, yes! I've been dying to go there."

You nod, welcoming the chance to escape the tension — and her voice. "Sure. Let's go."

Outside, the air is warm, the sunlight softer now. You walk beside Jungkook, a few steps ahead of Nara, who's busy on her phone but occasionally makes loud comments like she's afraid you'll forget she's there.

The little store is packed with local crafts, postcards, and tiny trinkets — dreamcatchers, magnets, bracelets, and keychains hanging from spinning racks.

Jungkook picks one up — a small metal keychain shaped like a compass. "Hey, look," he says. "Pretty cool, right?"

You lean closer to see. "Yeah. Simple but nice."

Nara appears beside him, holding a glittery heart-shaped one. "This one's cuter though," she says, tilting it toward him.

He smiles politely. "Maybe for someone who actually likes pink glitter."

You laugh quietly. "So... not you, then."

He grins at that. "Definitely not me."

You reach for another keychain hanging near the compass — the same design but in a different color. "Guess we have similar taste," you say, holding it up.

Jungkook looks at it for a second, then at you. "Matching keychains, huh?" he says teasingly.

You shrug. "Don't make it weird. It's just a coincidence."

"Sure," he says, that tiny smirk tugging at his lips again.

Behind you, Nara crosses her arms. "You two act like you're in some kind of drama," she mutters under her breath, but you pretend not to hear.

Jungkook hands the cashier his keychain before you can even take out your wallet. "I'll get it," he says.

You raise an eyebrow. "You don't have to—"

"I know," he interrupts lightly, "but now you'll owe me."

You roll your eyes. "Great. My favorite kind of debt."

He laughs softly, the sound easy and warm. When you step outside, the breeze feels lighter somehow. He hands you the small paper bag with your keychain inside.

"Here," he says. "Yours."

You blink. "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to," he says simply. Then, after a pause, "Besides, it'd be weird if only I had one."

You look down at the small compass in your hand, identical to the one dangling from his fingers. It's small, subtle — but somehow, it feels like a secret only the two of you know.

"Don't lose it," he says.

You smile faintly. "Only if you don't."

From behind, Nara clears her throat loudly. "Are we done here?"

You both look up at her voice — then at each other. Jungkook hides a grin, and you just nod. "Yeah," you say. "We're done."

But as you walk back to the car, your fingers brush over the cool metal of the keychain in your pocket — and for reasons you can't explain, it makes you smile.

"Wah, the food was so good, I think I overate a little," Jungkook says as he parks outside the camp area, dramatically clutching his bloated stomach.

You laugh at his behavior, shaking your head. "You still look good though," Nara says quickly, her tone all too sweet. Jungkook just chuckles, brushing it off.

"Yah! Is that Jeon Jungkook and Y/N?" a familiar voice shouts from a short distance. You turn your head toward the sound — it's Taehyung, sitting on one of the benches with Namjoon and Hoseok.

You smile, waving excitedly, and they wave back. Hoseok, now more relaxed around you than before, flashes a grin.

"And Lara," Taehyung says when Nara steps out from the back seat.

"It's Nara, dumbass," she replies, rolling her eyes.

Taehyung just snorts, clearly having done it on purpose to annoy her — which makes you laugh out loud.

Jungkook and you walk toward the group, Nara following behind while taking endless selfies on her phone.

"There's a small party in my cottage tonight," Hoseok announces with a grin. "You guys joining?"

"Why is that even a question? Of course we will!" you say happily. Hoseok smiles back at you — that familiar warm, genuine smile that makes your heart feel lighter. It's nice seeing him like this again — no tension, no awkwardness, just pure comfort.

"You already know I'm in," Jungkook says, shrugging as he takes the bagel Namjoon was eating and starts munching on it like it's his own.

"Perfect! I'll invite my girls too!" Nara chimes in.

"You're also coming?" Taehyung asks sarcastically.

"Of course I am. Right, Hoseok?" she says, glancing at him.

"Sure, I don't mind," Hoseok replies casually.

You sigh in disbelief but don't bother commenting.

"Perfect!" she says cheerfully, already calling her friends to tell them about the party.

"Y/N, why don't you come help me arrange things and snacks?" Namjoon suggests.

"Yeah, sure," you say, nodding.

"Jungkook, how about you and I go get drinks and water?" Hoseok says.

"Got it," Jungkook nods, tossing the half-eaten bagel back at Namjoon, who groans in protest.

"And Taehyung—go buy some meat and sauce for the barbecue," Hoseok adds.

Taehyung lets out a dramatic sigh. "Do I really have to go with her?"

"Yes, you do," Hoseok says firmly.

You hear Taehyung groan loudly, dragging his feet as he follows Nara toward the parking lot, muttering something under his breath that makes you laugh.

Notes:

Sorry for the wait, guys! I know this chapter took a bit, but I promise the next one's worth it 👀 thank you for all the love on Rules of Us! Don't forget to hit follow for updates 💕
— love, xoxo

Chapter 12: Marking Territory

"Perfect, you can put that over there," Namjoon says as you set a small box on the table. He pushes the glass table aside, clearing a space between the two couches so people can move around more easily.

"What about this?" you ask, picking up a stack of books from the other table.

"Let me put those in my bag," he says, taking them from your hands.

"You like reading?" you ask.

"Love reading," he corrects, a small grin forming on his face.

You nod, impressed. "What about you?" he asks, slightly out of breath as he pushes the sofa to the corner.

"I read occasionally—mostly when I'm having a bad day," you say, sitting on the edge of the table.

He pauses, looking up at you. "Bad day?"

You nod. "Yeah. It helps me forget about everything... kind of like escaping the world for a bit."

He hums softly in understanding.

"By the way, what made you want to do this little party?" you ask.

"Memories," he says simply.

You tilt your head, confused. "Memories?"

"Yeah," he says, smiling faintly. "To make them. Because that's what life's about, isn't it?"

You smile back, touched by how thoughtful he is.

From behind, Jungkook's voice joins the conversation as he shuts the fridge. "What about you? Is there a memory you love to think about?"

You hum, thinking for a moment. "Hmm... yes. When my parents passed away, it was just me and my brother, Yoongi. He was seventeen, and I was twelve. He used to work after school, and no matter how late he came home, he'd always make me kimchi ramen with mushrooms and egg."

You laugh softly, lost in the memory. "It became my comfort meal. I don't even know how many years I had the same dinner for—maybe until we were finally stable enough to afford more."

Namjoon and Jungkook both look at you quietly, eyes soft and full of empathy. You immediately wave your hands. "No, no—don't feel bad for me! Don't make it awkward now," you say with a chuckle.

"Do you talk to your brother?" Namjoon asks gently.

"She does, but not often," Hoseok says from behind as he sets a box of snacks on the counter.

"Yeah, true," you admit with a small smile. "He's just... really busy. But whenever he visits, we have a blast."

"What happened to your parents, if you don't mind me asking?" Namjoon says carefully.

The mention of your parents makes your eyes sting for a second.

"Yah, hyung, stop asking her stuff like that," Jungkook says quickly when he notices your silence.

"Hey—no, it's fine," you say, shaking your head.

"You sure?" Namjoon asks softly.

"Yeah," you say with a small, steady breath. "They died in a car crash. They were on their way to an event and then—boom—a car hit my dad's car. They died almost instantly after the crash."

"I'm sorry," Namjoon says quietly.

You give him a soft, reassuring smile. "It's okay. But anyway, let's not talk about it much or I'll start bawling my eyes out," you say with a half-laugh, trying to lighten the air.

"You can," Jungkook says suddenly.

You tilt your head. "Hmm?"

"I'm saying you can. I won't mind, Y/n."

His tone is unexpectedly gentle, and you can't help but smile a little. "Stop being so nice—it makes me not want to be mean to you," you say, nudging him lightly as you pass.

"I'm always nice," he says with an eye roll.

Before you can reply, the door slams open. "He wanted us to buy meat, not the other things you made me buy!" Taehyung yells, stepping inside with Nara right behind him.

"Hey, it barely took an hour! You're so dramatic!" Nara yells back, tossing a bag of meat onto the floor.

"You made me wait an hour! And then you forced me to try on lip gloss so you could see if it matched your 'perfect matte look'!" he shouts, dropping the rest of the bags.

"That's because I didn't want to ruin my makeup! And you needed lip gloss anyway for your dry lips!" she fires back.

Taehyung gasps, clutching his chest dramatically, mouth open like he just witnessed a crime.

Before he can say another word, Hoseok groans. "What the hell happened? I told you two to buy meat—where does lip gloss come in?"

Namjoon shakes his head behind him, equally confused, while Jungkook stands there with his arms crossed, completely unbothered.

"Well, why don't you ask her," Taehyung mutters, pointing at Nara.

"I just wanted to buy a lip gloss since I ran out, and I told him to test it because I didn't want to ruin my beautiful matte look. He's being dramatic," she says, folding her arms.

"Gosh, this is so childish," Namjoon says with a deep sigh as he walks off toward the bedroom to clean up.

You snort and follow him to help.

"Jungkook, can you take the bags to the kitchen?" Taehyung says as he crashes on the couch.

"Need help?" Nara asks quickly.

"Would love it," Jungkook replies casually, and she flashes him a bright smile before following him into the kitchen.

"This is C for chaotic," Hoseok mutters, rubbing his temples before heading out of the cottage for some fresh air.

You grab a small box of decorations from the corner and hand it to Namjoon as he fixes the fairy lights near the window. The sun has already started to fade behind the trees, the orange glow washing over the room.

"So... I invited a few more people," Namjoon says as he plugs in the lights.

You raise an eyebrow. "A few?"

He chuckles softly. "Okay, maybe more than a few. But I wanted to make it fun. I also texted Jimin."

You pause mid-step, blinking. "Jimin? As in the Jimin?"

"Yeah," Namjoon says carefully, watching your face. "You okay with that?"

You look away, pretending to adjust one of the snack trays. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just making sure," he says with a small knowing smile.

You ignore the way your stomach twists a little — it's not like you and Jimin had anything. You were just close... once.

Before the awkward silence can stretch, the front door swings open again, Hoseok walking back in with his hands full of more drinks. "Okay, people, we're officially stocked up!" he announces.

"Party of the year incoming," Taehyung says dramatically from the couch.

Jungkook comes out of the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, holding a small bowl of chips. "I don't know about party of the year, but at least it smells good in here," he says, setting the bowl down.

"It's called effort," you tease.

He looks up with a smirk. "Effort I don't get thanked for enough."

"Please, now you both don't start," Hoseok says, rubbing his temples as Taehyung nods in agreement.

"Oh my gosh!" Nara suddenly screams.

Everyone looks at her.

"There's no ice cream?" she gasps dramatically.

Namjoon shakes his head. "Nope."

"That's lame! Don't worry, I'll tell my friend to bring some," she says, winking and smiling.

"...Thanks?" Taehyung mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Okay, let's start playing some music," Namjoon says, pulling out his phone.

"And I'll get started on the meat," Hoseok adds. "Need to marinate it."

He grabs the sauces and spices that Nara and Taehyung bought, checking every label like his life depends on it—because, honestly, you can never trust Taehyung with groceries.

A few minutes go by. You're busy making sure everything is where it's supposed to be while Jungkook chats with Taehyung on the couch, both of them laughing over their beers. Nara stands by the door, practically bouncing on her toes.

The moment the doorbell rings, she squeals and rushes to open it—throwing herself into her friend's arms as a group of girls walk in. Your eyes widen a little. Wow. She's definitely popular.

"Hey guys!" one of the girls chirps cheerfully as they step inside.

Taehyung's eyes nearly pop out of his head when he spots one of them. "You're friends with her?" he practically yells, pointing at Nara's friend—his ex.

Nara's jaw drops. "You know him?" she fires back in the same tone, making you laugh under your breath.

The room instantly grows louder. Nara's friends scatter—some head toward Hoseok and Namjoon, while a couple of them hover near Jungkook, trying a little too hard to start a conversation.

You notice Jungkook's gaze flick toward you through the crowd. For a second, it's just the two of you exchanging a silent look amid the noise. He motions with his head for you to come sit next to him—his way of trying to include you—but you shake your head, holding up a finger as if to say, in a minute.

You tell him you're just grabbing a drink and he nods, giving you a lazy thumbs-up before turning back to his conversation.

You make your way to the kitchen, open the fridge, grab a can of beer, and pop it open with a satisfying hiss. The cold metal feels good against your skin as you take a sip—then another—and before you know it, you're halfway through the can.

More people start filing into the cottage, voices rising, music thumping a little louder, laughter spilling out from every corner.

You glance around, shaking your head with a soft smile. "So much for a small gathering," you mumble to yourself. "Feels like the entire camp's here."

You're mid-sip when the door opens again, not as loud as before—but something about the energy changes instantly.

"Hey," a familiar voice says.

You turn your head, and your chest tightens just a little. Jimin stands in the doorway, hands in his hoodie pockets, hair slightly messy from the breeze outside. He looks good—effortlessly good—but there's hesitation in the way he glances around, like he's unsure if he belongs here.

Namjoon spots him first. "There he is! You made it!" he says, walking over to pull him into a brief hug.

"Yeah," Jimin says quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips. His eyes scan the room until they land on you.

You quickly look away, pretending to focus on your can. You told yourself you'd be fine with him coming—but now that he's actually here, your stomach twists a little. It's weird. The last time you two talked, things didn't end neatly.

"Hey, Y/n."
You turn slightly, and he's closer now, standing just a few feet away.

"Hey," you reply softly, offering a polite smile.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The noise of the party fills the silence—laughter, music, Taehyung yelling about his missing drink—but it still feels like the world's gone quiet between you.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want me here," Jimin admits, his voice low.

You shake your head lightly. "It's fine. Everyone's invited, right?"

He nods, shifting his weight. "Still... maybe we should talk. Later."

You raise a brow. "Later?"

"When we're back home," he says. "I don't want to make things weird here. I just... want this trip to be okay for both of us."

You exhale, a small part of you relieved that he said it first. "Yeah. That's fair."

He smiles faintly—soft, genuine. "Good."

Before either of you can say more, Taehyung's voice cuts through the room. "Park Jimin! You came, finally!"

Jimin laughs under his breath and glances back at you once more before walking toward the others, instantly pulled into the chaos.

You stay by the counter, finishing your drink with a quiet sigh.
Maybe it's better this way—for now at least.

You decide to stay near the kitchen for a few minutes, watching the scene unfold from a comfortable distance. The cottage is fully alive now—music pulsing through the walls, laughter spilling out from every corner, the air warm with the smell of grilled meat and something faintly sweet.

Hoseok is at the small counter near the window, marinating the meat with laser focus. "Taehyung, if you touch this one more time, I swear—"

Taehyung grins mischievously, holding a raw piece of meat with tongs. "I was just checking if it's seasoned right!"

"It's raw, you idiot!" Hoseok snaps, snatching it from him.

The group bursts out laughing—including Namjoon, who's sitting on the couch trying to untangle the speaker wires. "Every party with you two is like babysitting," he says, shaking his head.

Across the room, Nara and her group of friends have completely taken over one corner of the couch, giggling over some TikTok dance and recording themselves with perfect lighting from a portable ring light she somehow brought. Jungkook sits nearby, beer in hand, pretending to scroll through his phone—but you notice his eyes flick toward them now and then. Not interested, just amused.

Nara notices too. "You wanna be in the video, Jungkook?" she teases.

He raises a brow. "Me?"

"Yeah, you!" one of her friends pipes up.

"You know what? Bet. Let's do it," Jungkook says, getting up. Nara jumps excitedly, setting up her phone. You can't help but admit that, despite everything, she has a spark—she gets her way, and clearly, Jungkook is entertained by her. If you were actually his girlfriend, you'd probably be glaring right now.

"Okay, so put your hand over here," she instructs, placing it on her hip as she guides him into the TikTok dance. One hand holds his, and they're close.

"Ain't that your boyfriend?" Hoseok teases from the kitchen, nudging you.

"Oh, stop it—you know it's fake," you laugh.

"But does he?" he points toward Jimin, who's watching from the side. You realize he has a point.

"Yeah... you're right," you mutter, shaking your head. "She's sabotaging the plan."

You stride over, a little amused. "Hey, babe," you say, stopping right in front of him. He looks at you, amused.

"Uh... we're recording a TikTok," Nara says, flustered.

You ignore her, wrapping your arms around Jungkook's neck and inching closer. His hands naturally rest on your hips, and you press your lips to his gently. He doesn't miss a beat, kissing you back.

Nara freezes, staring, then awkwardly turns to her friends, clearly trying to save face—but you know she's watching.

Jungkook hums softly against your lips as you bite gently, signaling him to open his mouth. Your tongues meet for a brief, teasing moment before pulling back, noses still touching.

"What was that for?" he asks breathlessly, grinning.

"Nothing... just wanted to mark my territory," you reply, the alcohol loosening your words. He raises a brow, clearly amused.

Jungkook laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Mark your territory, huh? Bold move," he teases, eyes glinting.

You smirk, pressing your forehead against his. "Don't act like you're not enjoying it," you whisper.

Nara, still awkwardly turned to her friends, can't help but sneak glances at the two of you. "Wow... okay, that's... uh... intense," she mutters, clearly flustered, her friends giggling at her discomfort.

Hoseok, oblivious, calls out from the kitchen, "Hey, don't forget the meat!"

You roll your eyes, still clinging to Jungkook. "Noted," you say with a grin, not breaking the kiss, letting the warmth between you linger.

Jungkook chuckles, resting his hands lightly on your waist. "You're lucky I like you drunk," he murmurs against your lips.

From the couch, Taehyung whistles dramatically. "Someone's really living it up!"

Jimin shifts slightly by the doorway, watching quietly. There's a flicker of something in his eyes—jealousy? amusement?—but he doesn't step in. Instead, he takes a seat a little further back, letting you enjoy the moment while he waits patiently.

You pull back slightly, noses brushing. "Okay... that's enough for now," you say breathlessly, smirking at Nara, who's still trying to act casual while stealing glances.

Walking back to Hoseok, you wink. "Plan saved."

He smiles, clearly impressed.

After a few minutes of charades, Hoseok claps his hands. "Alright, enough acting for now. Time for a classic—Truth or Dare. Who's brave enough?"

Nara immediately jumps up, eyes sparkling. "I am! Let's see who can keep up with me."

Jungkook groans dramatically but stands anyway. "Fine. But don't cry when I win."

Namjoon smirks. "Okay, circle up everyone. No running away."

Everyone forms a loose circle in the living room. You plop down near Jungkook, still holding your drink.

"Truth or dare, Nara?" Taehyung teases.

"Dare, obviously," she says, rolling her eyes. "Bring it on, losers."

Hoseok grins. "Alright... dare you to... give Jungkook a compliment—but make it interesting."

Nara smirks devilishly, stepping closer to him. "Hm, Jungkook, I have to say... you're way more intimidating in person than I expected... but also, kind of adorable when you get flustered."

Jungkook raises a brow, clearly caught off guard, and the corners of his lips twitch into a grin. "Oh really? Adorable, huh?"

"You heard me," Nara says, teasingly brushing past his arm as she sits down next to him again. Her tone is casual, but everyone notices the subtle flirt.

Your eyes flick toward them, watching the dynamic. It's playful but she's definitely pushing her charm. You lean back against the couch, sipping your drink, letting them have their moment—until Jungkook subtly turns to glance at you, his lips curling in a smirk.

It's not that you're jealous—you don't like Jungkook that way—but Nara always somehow manages to make you feel a little self-conscious. She's stunning, confident, the kind of girl who knows exactly how to draw attention without even trying. And sometimes, it feels like your fake boyfriend forgets he's supposed to be your boyfriend—at least in front of everyone here. He gets a little too caught up in her energy.

It's not that you care about them—you care about the plan. But every now and then, Nara shoots her shot, and maybe Jungkook sees it... maybe he doesn't. Either way, people around you definitely notice. The looks you keep getting every time she flirts with him make that obvious.

Not that you could care less right now—the alcohol in your system has taken over, giving you this wild surge of energy.

"Let's dance all night!" Taehyung yells, and everyone cheers in agreement. Hoseok cranks the music up, colored lights flashing through the cottage as the bass vibrates the floor.

You shoot up, holding your drink high, your vision slightly blurry but your mood sky-high. "Wooo!" you scream, laughing as you start to dance, completely carefree. You have no idea what you look like right now—but you're definitely dancing your heart out.

"Whoa, calm down there," Jungkook says, his hand finding your waist as he steadies you.

"Why? You're sooo boring," you tease, your voice slurred and playful.

"Jeez, how much did you drink?" he asks, nose scrunching.

"Not much," you laugh—right before bumping into someone and nearly knocking them over.

"Yeah, totally," he mutters sarcastically, shaking his head.

"Hey, Jeon Jungkook, leave me alone!" you snap with a tipsy grin.

"And why are you saying that?" he asks, brows raised.

"Because clearly I'm not Nara."

He lets out a laugh—seriously?

"Why are you so bothered, fake girlfriend?" he mocks, imitating your tone.

Your drunk self just giggles. "Surprised you even remember that."

His smile fades a little, replaced by something softer. "Of course I remember. What's wrong?"

The music is pounding, lights flashing red and blue, and you can barely make out his face—but he's close. Close enough that you can feel his breath when he talks.

"Because..." you say, swaying slightly, "you're always letting her sabotage our plan."

"You're overthinking again," he replies, voice gentler now. The tension in his expression eases—but yours doesn't.

"More like you're dumb," you mumble. He can't even be offended—you sound way too cute for him to take seriously, so he just laughs.

"Wanna dance with me?" he asks, holding a hand out.

"No."

He tilts his head, amused. "No?"

You smirk, spotting Jimin across the room. "Hey, Park Jimin! Wanna dance with me?" you shout.

Jimin looks up, surprised, his friends laughing as his gaze lands on you.

You catch Jungkook's expression—his grin widening, shaking his head like he can't believe your audacity.

"Are you serious right now?" he asks, voice dripping with disbelief and amusement.

You bite your lip and nod, being petty and childish—but who cares? If he can let Nara hang off him, you can have a little fun too.

You saunter toward Jimin, leaving Jungkook behind. He leans against the kitchen counter, a drink in hand, watching you with that unreadable look that somehow makes him even hotter.

Something about him watching you as you move toward Jimin only makes your skin tingle. You don't even know why... but the thought of him watching you dance with someone else suddenly feels intoxicating.

Notes:

Two updates in one day!! 👀 I know I was late before, so hopefully this makes it up to you guys! Hope you enjoyed it — make sure to follow and drop a heart if you did 💌

Chapter 13: Temporary Home

You don't know what was going through your mind—it's the mix of alcohol and confidence that drives you to the edge. You grab Jimin's hand and place it on your hip as you turn around, your body brushing against his while you start swaying your hips. You know Jungkook is watching, and that's what makes it so fun. He's not mad, but watching you dance against another man definitely makes him want to react.

Your eyes are closed; you just want to dance and have fun. Jimin moves along with you, both of his hands now resting on your hips as your arms stretch back to wrap around his neck.

A sudden, familiar giggle makes you open your eyes—Nara is dancing with Jungkook, both of his hands resting casually on her waist, and you can't help but smirk at the sight. Two can play that game.

"Switch!" Hoseok yells into the mic, and everyone swaps partners. Jimin spins you, and you land right in Jungkook's arms, both of you staring intensely at each other.

"Missed me?" he says, turning you around so suddenly that you gasp. He pulls you close until your back presses against his chest, his lips brushing your collarbone as he leans in.

"Not at all," you say breathlessly.

"You're a bad liar," he murmurs with a grin against your skin as you start swaying your hips again, the music pulsing around you.

"Did you miss me?" you ask, smiling as the corner of his lips lifts.

"A lot," he says, making you laugh and cover his mouth playfully.

"I hate liars," you tease.

"Who said I was lying?" he replies, moving your hand away.

You don't know who leans in first, but soon your lips meet, moving together in perfect rhythm. The kiss deepens — warm, electric, full of everything you've both been holding back. You hum softly against his lips before the two of you slowly pull away, breathless.

"I want you," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

His hand stays gently at your waist, steady and careful. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, voice low but sincere.

You nod — that's all he needs. He takes your hand, guiding you quietly toward Namjoon's room, his other hand resting on your lower back. The noise of the party fades behind you.

"Hey, we need this room to clean up," he says to the couple already in there. They scramble out, embarrassed. You lock the door behind them, your heart racing.

When you turn around, he's sitting on the bed, waiting — eyes soft, filled with both want and hesitation.

"Tell me, Y/n," he murmurs, "what do you want?"

You take a breath, stepping closer, your voice barely above a whisper. "You."

The look on his face is unreadable—his jaw clenched, expression steady, eyes locked on you. It almost drives you crazy how hard it is to get a reaction out of him, so every groan and sigh you draw from him feels like a reward.

"How bad do you want me?" he asks, one brow lifting, his voice low and rough. The boldness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, your pulse quickening as heat spreads through you.

Instead of answering, you lean closer, your hand resting on his thigh, eyes never leaving his. His breath hitches slightly, and for once, you have him caught off guard.

"What are you doing, Y/n?" he asks, voice quieter now, gaze fixed on you.

You smile faintly. "Showing you how much I want you."

His brow furrows, the concern in his eyes softening his tone. "Are you sure?"

You nod, your voice steady. "I am."

He exhales slowly, hands finding your shoulders with a gentle grip. "I just don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

You smile at the sincerity in his words—it makes your heart ache in the best way. "Then kiss me," you whisper.

He hesitates for half a second before leaning in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow, deep, full of unspoken emotion. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

"I want this," you say softly. "I promise."

His lips curve into a knowing smile, one that says he feels the same. "Then you already know the answer."

He guides you gently back, his hand resting at your waist.

"Take off your pants," you say, and you can practically hear his heart racing in his chest. He listens and starts sliding his pants and boxers down, his hard length slapping against his stomach. It's big, with a pink tip and veins running around it, and it's not just hard—it's really hard. You can't help but stare at the veins, and pre-cum; your mouth is watering, and there's no shame in admitting that you desperately want to taste him. You've never been this turned on by a man before. "What? Do you want me to take a picture of you with my dick?" he says with a light snort, and you scoff, embarrassed but trying to play it cool. "You're acting like you've never seen it before," he adds. You know you have, but you've never given him a blowjob, and the thought of it going inside your mouth is what excites you the most.

You wrap your hands around his warm length, and his head falls back immediately as he lets out a loud groan. You swear his voice drives you wild. You give him a few strokes before taking his tip into your mouth, teasing him gently with kisses and tasting his pre-cum while your hands play with his balls. You slide your mouth from his tip down to his balls, lightly sucking on them. "Fuck, stop teasing," he says through gritted teeth, but that only makes you want to do more. You slide your tongue from his balls all the way to the tip, teasing him again. "Y/N," he says, frustrated. "Stop fucking teasing," he adds, his eyes shut tightly and hands gripping your hair. You love it; you love every bit of it. You didn't realize how dirty you could be before Jungkook. Hearing a man like him beg is music to your ears. "Why don't you try saying please?" you ask, raising an eyebrow, and his eyes snap open. "Stop fucking playing with me," he says, and you love it. You enjoy breaking his ego. "Well then..." you wrap your mouth around his tip again, gently sucking as you hum, and he lets out the loudest moan you've ever heard from him. "Fuck," he grunts. "Say it," you demand, feeling proud of your boldness, but he shakes his head side to side. "Fuck no," he replies. "Okay then, I guess you don't want it," you say, pulling your hand and mouth away from his length, and he hisses at the loss of contact. "Fuck, okay, please," he says, and you smirk. "What?" you ask. "I said please," he responds, his voice louder out of frustration. You decide not to push it; you don't want to ruin the fun for him, so you smile, satisfied, and take his length back into your mouth. It's insane how not even half of it fits yet, but you slowly start moving your head up and down. His grip on your hair tightens as he lets out a groan. "Yes, oh fuck yes," he breathes, and you try to go deeper, almost hitting the back of your throat, increasing your pace as his moans grow louder.

You pull back for a breath, gasping since you nearly choked on him a couple of times. You look like a mess. "I want you to fuck my throat," you say, and he swears his dick twitches at your bold words. "What?" he asks, breathless. "Come on, fuck my throat," you reply, and he bites his lips hard. "Fuck, come here," he says, standing up while stroking himself before slapping your face with his dick. It's so dirty, which makes it incredibly hot. "Take it," he commands as you open your mouth. He enters slowly, starting at a gentle pace, then begins to thrust his hips. "Ugh, yes," he grunts, biting his lips. Tears stream down your face as you gag around him, your hand playing with his balls. "I'm gonna cum... fuck," he warns, about to pull out, but you suck harder around his length. "Fuck, let go, I'm about to cum!" His eyes widen, and just like that, he cums in your mouth. You swallow it, sticking your tongue out to show him you did. His jaw drops. "I just came inside your mouth," he says, breathless. "I wanted to taste you," you reply shamelessly. He grabs you by the hair at the back of your head, pulling you closer to his face as he kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue.

You both pull back, foreheads touching as you grin proudly.
"How was it?" you ask curiously.

He smiles. "It was the best one I've ever had."

You won't lie—you're surprised. He's a good-looking guy, and you know he's definitely done this with many people. But something about him saying that you're the best he's ever had isn't just a confidence boost—it makes you feel proud of yourself.

"You're welcome," you say cockily.

He smiles cheekily, ear to ear. "You get that from me."

"What—the cockiness?" you tease, and he just grins at you.

"Alright, well, I'm going to shower," he says, glancing down at his exposed lower body.

"Want me to join?" you ask, testing the waters.

"You know I'd never say no to that," he says, smirking.

You smile. "Mhm, never mind, I'm feeling lazy," you joke, pretending you've changed your mind.

"Hey, you can't do that to me!" he says, and you burst into laughter—but it quickly turns into a scream when he picks you up, carrying you toward the bathroom.

"Hey, this is cute," you say, going through Hoseok's closet, trying to find an oversized shirt to put on.

"You sure he won't mind you stealing his clothes?" Jungkook asks. He had extra clothes in his bag, so he didn't have to worry about this.

You nod proudly. "Yes, it's Hoseok. We've been doing this forever," you say dramatically, putting on Hoseok's oversized black shirt. You have shorts underneath.

Jungkook laughs at your reaction to how cute the shirt looks on you.

A knock on the door distracts you, and you turn around as Jungkook opens it.

"Yah, what are you both doing here? Is the party that bad?" Namjoon stands there looking a little annoyed.

Oh yeah—the party. You totally forgot about the fact that people are still outside in the living room. The loud music made it hard to hear anyone else.

"Sorry," you say quickly. "I spilled some sauce on my clothes, so we were looking for a shirt for me," you say stupidly, trying to cover up.

Namjoon can tell—anyone could—but he plays along, not wanting to put you and Jungkook on the spot.

"Oh, yeah... okay," he says awkwardly, scratching his head as Jungkook quickly motions for him to leave. He does, but not before saying, "Hurry up and come outside."

Jungkook locks the door, turning toward you. You make an "oops" face.

"Do you think we messed up?" you ask.

"Who cares?" he responds, making you roll your eyes.

"Do you seriously not care?" you ask.

"It's not that I don't care—we didn't do anything wrong, baby," he says.

"Fine," you say, pouting.

Outside, the party is still alive. As soon as you and Jungkook step out of the room, Nara makes her way to him, curiosity written all over her face. They start talking, and you get distracted by a notification on your phone.

"Call me."
— Yoongi.

You frown. "Yoongi?" He does text you a lot, but never in that tone — randomly telling you to call him. You can't lie, it makes you worry. You quickly step outside the cottage.

"Y/N," Jimin calls your name, causing you to stop in your tracks. "Where are you going?" he asks.

You smile at him. "Yoongi wants me to call him," you say, and he nods.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly.

You nod again, smiling. "Yes, Jimin."

He steps closer. "I'm here if you need me. Even though we've had our awkward conversations and bad moments, I'm still going to be here."

His words make your heart beat faster. "Thank you, Jimin. I truly mean it."

You give him a hug, and he doesn't miss a second before wrapping his hands around your waist. When you pull back, your eyes meet Jungkook's. He's talking to a couple of guys — and Nara — but he gives you a thumbs-up, silently asking if you're okay. You give him a gentle smile and nod before turning around to walk out.

"God, please answer," you whisper to yourself as the call rings. He still hasn't answered, and just when you're about to give up—

"Hello, Y/N."

"Yoongi, what the heck is wrong with you? I've been calling for the past ten minutes! I'm worried! Why did you text me that? Do you not understa—"

He cuts you off. "Jeez, calm the fuck down."

You open your mouth, offended. "Don't tell me to calm down! Why'd you want me to call? Are you okay?"

The worry in your voice makes him smile. He's your only family, so of course you're going to be worried about him. You've lost your parents — the last thing you'd want is for anything to happen to Yoongi.

"Y/N, I'm okay, I promise. I just needed to tell you something," he says.

You frown. "Tell me what?"

He hesitates — more like he's trying to figure out how to tell you. "But you have to promise me you won't get mad," he says.

You frown even more. "Yah, tell me already. I can't promise that because I don't know what it is."

He sighs. "Okay, fine."

You nod impatiently.

"Do you think you can move in with Hoseok for a couple of months?" he says.

You stare blankly. "What? Why?"

"Eh, nothing too serious... The landlord and I got into an argument, and he wants us to leave his house."

He says it so damn casually that if you weren't paying attention, you'd think he was just talking about his day.

"Nothing too serious?! Have you gone nuts?! Why did you argue with him!!!" you scream, almost making him go deaf through the phone.

"He was talking about raising the rent price. How the heck are we going to pay so much when we can barely pay the current rent?" he says — and he's right, but still. He could've negotiated.

"And before you say I could've talked nicely — I did! But his old ass was being a jerk, so I couldn't keep my calm," he adds.

You sigh, grabbing your hair in a tight fist. "This is insane, Yoongi. You didn't even bother talking to me before doing this."

He scoffs. "Oh, come on, I'm your older brother. I know what to do."

"So you want me to stay at Hoseok's?" you ask in disbelief.

"Yes, and it's not like it's anything new to you. You spend almost all your day at his anyway," he says, still sounding unbothered. "But do keep in mind that you have to move in two days — that's the time limit."

Hoseok is your best friend, but you can't just make this last-minute request. Plus, you don't even know if he's okay with any of this. You're mad at your brother — because why doesn't he care? Why is he so calm about this?

"You piss me the fuck off," you say, ending the call right when he's about to respond.

He's the last person you want to talk to right now.

You stare down at your phone, the call screen finally black. The night air feels heavier now — colder, maybe — or maybe it's just you. You slip your phone into your pocket, trying to steady your breath. Music from inside the cottage still echoes faintly — laughter, bass, someone shouting over a song. Everything feels too loud for how quiet you suddenly feel inside.

You walk back toward the cottage, the dim party lights spilling out from the windows. The moment you step in, you make a beeline for the counter, grabbing a red cup and filling it with whatever's left — something strong, you don't even check what it is. The burn in your throat is harsh but comforting, so you pour another. And another.

Jungkook spots you from across the room. He excuses himself from whoever he's talking to and walks over, concern clear in his face. "Hey," he says softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You okay? You've been gone for a while."

You force a smile. "Yeah, just... needed some air."

He studies you for a second — eyes searching yours — but you look away, sipping your drink. "You sure?" he asks again.

You nod quickly, too quickly. "I'm fine, Jungkook. Go back to your friends."

He hesitates, lips parting like he wants to say something else, but instead, he nods and steps back. "Alright. Just don't overdo it, okay?"

You give him a lazy salute and turn back to your drink, ignoring the weight of his gaze before he walks off.

A few minutes later, you spot Hoseok near the edge of the room, laughing with Taehyung and Jimin. You walk over, gently tapping his arm. "Hobi, can we talk for a sec?"

He turns around, his usual bright smile already forming. "Y/N! What's up?"

You motion toward the quieter side of the porch, and he follows you out. The air hits you again — cool, sharp — sobering you just a little.

"Everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

You open your mouth to say it — to tell him about Yoongi, about having to move in — but before you can, Hoseok lets out a deep sigh, eyes gleaming with emotion.

"You won't believe what happened today," he says, laughing nervously. "My parents... they called me."

You blink, a little thrown off. "Your parents?"

He nods, and you can see the way his voice trembles slightly — a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Yeah. They said they're coming to visit me next week. They want to celebrate my birthday early. Can you believe that? After all these years?"

You can see his eyes glisten, the smile stretching across his face. "They finally said they're proud of me, Y/N. Of what I'm doing. Being a choreographer. They said they're excited to see the studio."

Your chest tightens — not with sadness, but with a bittersweet ache. You can't bring yourself to tell him now, not when he's looking at you like that — glowing with the kind of happiness you haven't seen in a long time.

You smile softly, swallowing down everything you were about to say. "Hobi, that's amazing. I'm so happy for you."

He laughs again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... it feels unreal. I just hope everything goes well."

"It will," you say, nodding. "It's going to be perfect."

You don't mention Yoongi. Not the fight. Not the moving out. Not the panic still sitting in your chest. You'll figure it out later — after tonight. Hoseok deserves to have this moment.

So instead, you raise your cup and smile. "To your parents finally coming around."

He grins and clinks his drink against yours. "To finally being seen."

After your little toast with Hoseok, he gets pulled back into the party, surrounded by laughter and bright lights. You stay behind on the porch for a bit, finishing your drink slowly. Your head feels a little fuzzy, but not from the alcohol anymore — from everything sitting heavy in your chest.

You finally head back inside. The music's louder, and everyone seems even more drunk — Taehyung is trying to teach Nara some ridiculous dance, and she's laughing so hard she's crying. Jungkook's sitting on the couch, drink in hand, talking to Namjoon, but his eyes flick up the moment you walk in.

He notices how your expression has dulled, how your energy's shifted. Within seconds, he stands and makes his way toward you.

"You good?" he asks, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes.

You give him a tired nod, but he doesn't buy it. "You've been acting weird all night, Y/N," he says, tone softer than usual. "You can tell me what's wrong, you know that, right?"

You sigh and shake your head. "It's nothing. I just... don't wanna ruin anyone's night."

He frowns, eyes narrowing slightly. "Ruin whose night? Mine?"

You don't answer, just glance toward the side of the room. He gently takes your wrist, pulling you toward the hallway — away from the crowd, where it's quieter. "Tell me," he says again, voice lower now.

You finally let out a long breath. "Yoongi called," you admit quietly. "Well, texted first. He wants me to move out. He argued with the landlord again, and now we have to leave."

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow immediately. "What?"

"Yeah," you mutter, rubbing your temples. "He said the landlord's kicking us out in two days. He told me to ask Hoseok if I can stay with him for a couple months, but..." You trail off, biting your lip. "I was about to tell Hobi, and then he started talking about how happy he is because his parents are finally coming to see him. I couldn't tell him. I didn't wanna ruin it."

Jungkook stays silent for a second, eyes studying your face. Then, softly but firmly, he says, "Then stay with me."

You blink. "What?"

He shrugs slightly, like it's obvious. "I'm serious. Namjoon moved out recently — I've got an extra room just sitting there. You can stay as long as you need."

You stare at him like he's joking, but he's not. His expression is calm, serious.

"Jungkook..." you start hesitantly, "I can't just move in with you."

"Why not?" he asks, stepping closer. "You literally pretend to be my girlfriend every other day. It's not like it would be that weird."

"That's exactly why it would be weird," you say quickly, trying to laugh it off. "People will think it's real."

He smirks slightly. "And? Let them."

You roll your eyes. "I could ask Taehyung instead."

"You could," he says, tilting his head. "But Tae's place is full — he's still got his cousin's old setup stuff in his room, remember? You'd be sleeping next to a drum kit and five mic stands."

You hesitate, knowing he's right. You hate that he's right.

Jungkook sighs softly, his voice turning gentler. "Look, it's just for a couple months, yeah? Until you figure things out. I don't mind, really. I've got space. You'll have your own room. No pressure."

You look up at him, his expression so open, so genuine — and for once, you can't think of a reason to say no.

"Are you sure?" you ask quietly.

He nods. "Yeah. I want to help."

You exhale, the tension in your shoulders finally easing a little. "Okay," you say finally. "Just for a couple months."

A small smile curves his lips. "Deal."

And even though you try to convince yourself it's temporary — that it's practical, that it's not a big deal — something about the way he looks at you makes your heart race just a little faster.

Notes:

Sooo, what are we thinking? 👀 How do you guys feel about this chapter? Any guesses about what might happen next?? Don’t forget to hit follow so you don’t miss the updates!

Chapter 14: Lines We Keep Crossing

Notes:

I'm SO sorry for the late update! I've been super busy with life, but here it is — finally! It's a small chapter, but a cute one :) Any predictions for the next part?

It's way too early for this.

At least that's what you think when the cottage door practically explodes open.

"Y/N! Wake up, we're leaving!" Taehyung's voice booms through the hall like an alarm clock from hell.

You groan into your pillow. "No. Leave me alone. Tell the world I'm dead."

Before you can hide under the blanket, your door swings open and Taehyung barges in with zero mercy. "Get up. We said nine. It is nine. Actually, it's nine-oh-three. Move."

You flip him off without lifting your head. He gasps like you just committed a crime.

"Real mature," he mutters, but leaves the room.

Jungkook appears in the doorway right after, hair damp, tattoos peeking out from the sleeve of his fitted white tee, grey sweats sitting low on his hips. He's holding his coffee like he owns the morning.

"Rise and shine," he says, voice annoyingly soft.

You squint at him. "Why are you dressed like a Calvin Klein model at nine a.m.?"

He shrugs. "Genetics."

You throw a pillow at him. He dodges it easily, laughing.

"Get up, Breakfast is getting cold," he says, leaning against the doorframe and taking a sip of his coffee. "Or do you want me to come drag you out of bed?"

You clutch your blanket dramatically. "Touch me and I swear I'll scream."

"Not the worst thing you did last night," he mumbles under his breath with an infuriating smirk.

Your face heats instantly. "Get out."

He lifts his hands in surrender, still smirking. "Ten minutes. I'm timing you."

Once he's gone, you force yourself out of bed, dragging your feet to the bathroom. The hot shower helps a little, washing off the headache and leftover chaos from last night. You toss on something comfy, tie your hair up, and step out.

The cottage feels alive again — sunlight pouring through the windows, the smell of eggs and toast, the sound of Taehyung and Hoseok arguing over who ruined the pan.

"Good morning, sleeping disaster," Jimin says, handing you a plate.

"Morning," you mumble, sitting beside Jungkook, who glances at you with a quiet smile like he's checking you're okay.

Taehyung's mouth is full. "We leave in fifteen. Everyone pee now or forever hold—"

"No one cares," Namjoon grumbles.

You eat quickly, trying not to stare at Jungkook, who looks way too hot for someone who woke up twenty minutes ago. He finishes his food, grabs his duffel bag, and heads to the door.

"We're taking my car," he announces.

Taehyung slaps your shoulder. "Shotgun. You got the back."

"Unfair," you complain.

"I woke you up. I earned it," he argues.

You give in, rolling your eyes, and grab your stuff.

Outside, everyone's loading into their cars. Hoseok and Namjoon are taking the small rental. Both are fighting over which playlist to use for the drive.

Before you can get in Jungkook's car, Nara steps in front of him. "Kook," she says brightly.

Oh god.

She throws her arms around him and hugs him long. Way too long. Like she's trying to absorb his soul.

Jungkook awkwardly pats her back. "Uh... yeah. See you later?"

She pulls back slowly, smiling at him like she's starring in her own drama. "Drive safe, okay?"

"Yeah... sure," he says, slipping away from her and getting into the car.

You settle into the back seat, annoyed without even meaning to be. Jungkook glances at you through the rearview mirror as he starts the engine.

"You good?" he asks quietly.

Taehyung answers for you. "She's just cranky."

You glare at him. "I'm perfectly fine."

Jungkook's eyes linger on you a second longer, like he's not convinced.

But he doesn't push it.
He just nods, puts one hand on the wheel, and pulls out of the driveway as the cottage disappears behind you.

"Next stop: home," he sighs.

Taehyung is sprawled in the backseat, pretending to sleep but occasionally peeking over the seat with a mischievous grin.

"Are we stopping for coffee or not?" he finally asks, voice still half-lazy.

Jungkook glances at him through the rearview mirror, smirking. "Sure. But no spilling this time."

Taehyung huffs dramatically. "Why do you even care?"

You lean back, arms crossed. "Because last time you drenched half the car in latte. You're lucky I didn't strangle you."

"Hey! That was one time!" Taehyung protests, but the grin on his face gives him away.

Jungkook chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. You catch yourself glancing at him, suddenly noticing the way the sunlight hits his jawline just right, and the faint tousle of hair that makes him look effortlessly... perfect. You shake your head, trying to focus on the road.

A few minutes later, Jungkook pulls into a Starbucks drive-thru. You can already smell the roasted coffee beans and faint sweetness of pastries.

"Small caramel latte for me, please," Jungkook says, his tone calm, collected. You watch him slide his card across the reader with ease, that effortless confidence that somehow makes him even more attractive.

Taehyung groans from the backseat. "Make it a venti for me. Life is too short for small cups, Y/N."

"I'm good," you mutter, but secretly you're glad for the stop — the aroma and warmth of the drinks waking you up more than the caffeine.

Once the drinks are in hand, they drive the few blocks to Taehyung's place. He practically leaps out of the car, coffee in one hand, bag slung over his shoulder.

"See you later, losers!" he calls, grinning. "Don't break the car without me!"

You roll your eyes while Jungkook just laughs, shaking his head as the car pulls away.

"Ready?" he asks, turning to you.

You nod. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The drive to Jungkook's house is quiet, save for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sip of coffee. When you arrive, his house comes into view — modern, with clean lines, a small garden in front, and sunlight reflecting off the windows. Jungkook parks smoothly and gets out, walking around to open your door for you like a gentleman.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he says, voice low and teasing.

You step inside, taking in the space — spacious and inviting, with high ceilings and a cozy living room that somehow feels warm despite the size. The kitchen gleams in the morning light, and a staircase leads to the rooms upstairs.

"Your room's the one at the end of the hall upstairs," he says, gesturing. "Nothing's set up yet, but we can unpack some of your stuff if you want to get a head start."

You drop your bags by the door, sighing in relief. "Thanks. I'll just leave them here for now. It's not like I'm moving in today, technically."

Jungkook leans casually against the doorway, watching you. "Two days, huh?" he murmurs, almost to himself. "You sure you're ready for this?"

You bite your lip. "Honestly? Not really. But... I guess I don't have a choice."

He steps closer, brushing a hand lightly over the top of one of your bags. "You'll be fine. And I'll make sure you don't stress too much about anything."

A small smile tugs at your lips. There's something comforting about the way he says it, the way he's calm when you feel anything but.

"Alright," he says after a beat, "let me give you the full house tour so you don't get lost in your new 'kingdom.'"

He leads you through the house, showing you where the kitchen supplies are, the bathrooms, the living area, and finally, your room. "Everything's yours to set up however you want," he says.

You look around your room, imagining how you'll place your things, making it your own little space in his house. It doesn't feel overwhelming, just... right.

"Thanks, Kook," you murmur, looking back at him. "I... appreciate it."

He shrugs, flashing a small, lopsided smile. "Don't mention it. Just... don't break anything. That's all I ask."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. Somehow, even in a new space that's technically not fully yours yet, it feels like home.

You spend a little more time wandering around the house as Jungkook explains random things you didn't even know houses needed explanations for.

"This cabinet sticks a little," he says, pulling it open with unnecessary force.

"That's not a stick, that's a fight," you reply, raising a brow.

He laughs, shaking his head. "Okay, so don't open that one aggressively."

He shows you the laundry room, the tiny backyard with a couple of workout mats tossed to the side, and finally the upstairs hallway again. You pause in front of his bedroom doorway — the room is spotless, annoyingly so, with a dark color palette and a huge bed that looks way too comfortable.

"And this," he says, leaning against the doorframe, "is where the magic happens."

You snort. "Magic? Please. The only magical thing about you is how fast you fall asleep."

"Don't expose me like that," he mutters, trying not to smile.

There's a comfortable silence for a moment. You can feel him watching you — not intensely, not in a weird way... just present. A little soft. A little too aware of you being here.

You clear your throat and step back. "Okay. Tour done. House rated. You may now drive me home before I start snoring on your couch."

He rolls his eyes but grabs his keys. "Fine, grandma. Let's go."

The car ride back to your place is peaceful. The morning has bloomed into real sunlight, warm and bright through the windows. You rest your head against the seat, suddenly exhausted from the trip, the packing, the stress, the upcoming move.

"You okay?" Jungkook asks quietly.

You nod. "Just thinking. I have to move out in two days. My place is a disaster."

"I'll help you," he says instantly.

You blink. "What? No, you don't have to—"

"Y/N," he says, tone gentle but firm, "you're moving into my house. It makes sense I help you pack the stuff that's coming into my house."

"...That actually does make sense."

"Exactly," he says, satisfied.

"Come on," Jungkook says finally, unbuckling his seatbelt. "Let's start today, so you don't panic tomorrow."

You groan dramatically but step out of the car. The second you unlock your door, the familiar mess greets you: clothes everywhere, half-open drawers, a suitcase that looks like it gave up on life.

"Wow," Jungkook says, stepping inside behind you. "It's... impressive."

"Shut up," you mutter, shoving a hoodie off a chair.

He laughs under his breath and picks the hoodie up, folding it neatly and placing it on your bed. That stupid neat-folding thing he does — it shouldn't be attractive. But it is.

You start gathering clothes, tossing them into a pile on the bed. Jungkook moves beside you, sorting everything with practiced calmness.

But every time he leans over, his shoulder brushes yours.
Every time he steps behind you, his breath fans your neck.
Every time you look up, he's already watching you.

It's subtle.
It's slow.
It's pulling you in without either of you saying a word.

Halfway through folding a pair of jeans, you feel him behind you — close, too close — as he reaches past you to grab something from the drawer.

His voice drops.
"You're tense."

You swallow. "Because you're hovering."

"I'm helping," he murmurs, not backing away.

"You're standing extremely close while doing it."

"And you mind?" he asks, that low tone that's barely a whisper.

You turn slightly, meeting his eyes.
"No," you admit softly.

Something shifts in the air — slow, deliberate, almost dangerous.

And then—
his phone starts ringing.

You both freeze.

Jungkook closes his eyes for half a second — frustrated, like the universe has the worst timing imaginable. Then he steps back, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Nara.

Her name lights up the screen.

Your stomach dips, barely noticeable, but enough.

Jungkook hesitates before answering — not embarrassed, just... aware. Aware that you can see it.

He clears his throat and picks up.
"Hey."

His voice softens a little — not the way he talks to you, but not unfamiliar either. More... easy. Comfortable.

You pretend to fold a shirt you've already folded twice.

On the phone, Nara says something you can't fully hear, but you catch the tone — light, teasing, like she's smiling while talking.

Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh.
"Yeah... yeah, we got back earlier. No, I'm just helping Y/N pack."

He glances at you then, quickly. Almost like he's checking your reaction.

You keep your face neutral.

"Mhm... yeah, I know. I forgot."
Another small laugh — the kind a guy makes when someone reminds him of an inside joke he didn't expect to hear again.

Not flirty. Not romantic.

Just familiar.

Just... comfortable.

It annoys you anyway.

"Okay, I'll text you later," he finally says. "Yeah. You too."

He hangs up.

The room is quiet again — too quiet, like the silence is a third person.

Jungkook slips his phone into his pocket and looks at you, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That was Nara," he says unnecessarily.

You shrug. "I figured."

He studies you for a moment longer, then walks toward you, his steps slow — careful.

"She's just checking in," he says, voice calm. "She's... easy to talk to sometimes."

There it is.
Honest. True. Mildly irritating.

You keep folding clothes. "You don't owe me an explanation."

"I know," he says quietly. "I just didn't want you thinking... something else."

You raise an eyebrow. "Thinking what?"

He steps in front of you — close again.
Close like before the phone rang.

"That she matters to me more than you do."

Your breath catches.

He doesn't touch you.
Doesn't lean in.
Doesn't break eye contact.

Just says it.

Steady. Certain. Soft.

You look away first, suddenly aware of your heartbeat. "We should finish packing."

A slow smile pulls at his lips, but he nods.
"Yeah. We should."

He moves beside you again, folding clothes like nothing happened.

Jungkook sets his phone aside and claps his hands lightly.

"Food," he says. "You're going to pass out if you don't eat."

You drop onto your bed, exhausted. "I don't care what it is. Just something edible."

He snorts, pulling out his phone. "Okay, gremlin. What do you want?"

"Something warm," you mumble. "Something that'll make me feel like my life isn't falling apart."

"So... ramen?"

Your eyes brighten. "Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes."

He smiles — that soft, cheeky smile he pretends he doesn't do — and orders from your usual spot without even asking. You notice. You don't comment.

While waiting, you both keep packing. It's quieter now, calmer, but every few minutes your hands brush or he reaches around you for something and your stomach twists again.

By the time the food arrives, you both worked through half the room.

You sit on the floor surrounded by clothes, eating steaming ramen straight from the container. Jungkook sits across from you, long legs stretched out, chopsticks in hand, hair falling into his eyes.

It feels stupidly domestic.

It feels dangerous.

Jungkook breaks the silence first.

"So... earlier," he says, "Jimin stopped you before you ran outside."

You look up slowly. "Yeah."

"And?" Jungkook prompts gently.

"And what?"

"What did he say?"

You shrug, playing with your noodles. "Just... that he'd be there for me. Even if we had weird moments in the past."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. "You liked hearing that."

"It was sweet," you admit. "He's sweet."

Jungkook hums, like he already knew that.

You hesitate for a moment before sighing.
"I want to see him again. But I don't want to look desperate."

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans back on his palms.

"Okay," he says. "Then don't."

You groan. "Wow, genius advice."

He laughs. "No, I mean — don't text him directly. Let's make a plan where you'll naturally see him."

You narrow your eyes. "Naturally?"

"Yeah," he says, smirking now. "What if we all go out? Like... clubbing."

Your heart jumps. "Clubbing?"

"Yeah. Everyone loves going out. Jimin will show up for sure."

Your face lights up before you can stop it. "Wait... that's actually perfect."

"I know," Jungkook says smugly.

You roll your eyes, cheeks warm. "Shut up."

He leans forward slightly. "You're easy to read, you know that?"

"And you're annoying," you shoot back.

"Yet you're moving into my house in two days."

You open your mouth — but no comeback forms.

He grins, knowing he won.

You keep eating, the excitement buzzing quietly in your chest. The idea of seeing Jimin again — casually, effortlessly, without looking like you planned it — feels good. Feels fun.

Feels like something to look forward to.

The food slowly disappears, and the room falls into a different kind of quiet. A softer one.

You set your empty container aside. Jungkook does the same — but he doesn't lean back.

He stays there, close, knees almost touching yours.

You swallow. He notices.

"You're staring," he says softly.

"No, I'm not."

"You are."

"Shut up."

His hand reaches out — slow, deliberate — and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath catches.

"Y/N," he murmurs, voice dropping low, "come here."

You do — without thinking, without hesitating — because you always do.

Your knees slide forward, closing the distance, and his hand slips to the back of your neck, thumb brushing your skin.

His lips meet yours — warm, strong, familiar — and everything else melts away.

It's not rushed.
It's not messy.
It's slow.

Slow enough to feel everything.

His mouth moves with yours like he's been waiting for this moment all day, like the almost-kiss earlier never left his mind. You climb into his lap without him asking; his hands grip your waist without you guiding.

His breath stutters against your lips.

Yours shivers against his.

And then his forehead rests against yours for a second, both of you catching your breath.

"You're... dangerous," he whispers.

You smile. "You started it."

He smirks. "I'll finish it too."

He kisses you again — deeper this time — the kind of kiss that steals thought and logic and everything in between.

And for a few seconds, you let yourself forget everything else.

The packing.
The stress.
The move.
Yoongi.
Nara.
Jimin.

It's just you and Jungkook.

Just for now.

Just for tonight.

Chapter 15: Just For Tonight

Ring, ring.

You groan, pulling the blanket over your face as sunlight pours in through the open window you didn't even bother closing last night. Squinting, you reach blindly for your phone on the bedside table.

"Hello," you mumble, your voice raspy and heavy with sleep.

"Good morning to you as well," Leah says.

"Oh—hey. Uh... what's up?" you ask, eyes still shut, brain nowhere near awake.

"What's up?" she repeats. "Baby, you're fired."

Your eyes snap open. "What?"

You practically sit bolt upright. "I told you," Leah continues. "Jane isn't stupid. I don't even know how she found out you were on a trip, but she was pissed this morning and told me to let you know."

Your jaw drops.

There is no way.
Your only source of income—gone. Homeless and jobless in less than a week? That's insane.

"Leah—what about you?" you ask quickly, guilt flooding in. "Did you get in trouble because of me?"

"Girl, no," she says immediately. "She hasn't said anything to me, so I'm assuming I'm good."

You glance at the time.

9:00 a.m.

Jane leaves in thirty minutes.

"Let me not fuck this up this time," you mutter under your breath.

"Huh?" Leah asks.

You don't answer. You end the call and jump out of bed, sprinting to the bathroom. You shove your toothbrush into your mouth, staring at your reflection.

"Fuck, I'm a mess," you mumble around the toothpaste, aggressively brushing your hair back.

You rush across the room, toothbrush still in your mouth, digging through your closet. "This works," you declare, voice muffled by Colgate, as you throw on the first decent outfit you can find.

Freshened up in record time, you bolt to the fridge and grab a cold slice of leftover pizza, not even bothering to heat it. Breakfast of champions.

Shoes on, keys in hand, you glance at the clock one last time.

"Just in time," you breathe, before rushing out the door and into your car.

You pull into the café parking lot way too fast, heart pounding as you grab your bag and practically jog inside. The bell above the door rings sharply, too loud, too cheerful for how sick you feel.

Leah's behind the counter, already in uniform. Her eyes widen the second she sees you.

"Oh my god—" she starts.

"I just need to talk to her," you say quickly, already scanning the café.

Jane is near the register, tablet in hand, scrolling with that familiar tight-lipped expression. No smile. No warmth. Just business.

You take a breath and walk up to her.

"Jane," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Can we talk? Please. Just for a minute."

She looks up slowly, unimpressed. "You're not scheduled today."

"I know," you rush out. "I—I heard what happened and I wanted to explain. There's been a misunderstanding."

Jane crosses her arms. "You lied."

"I didn't—" You stop yourself, swallowing. "Okay, yes, I did. But I wasn't trying to disrespect you or the job. I just needed a few days. I've been dealing with a lot."

"That's not my problem," she says flatly.

Leah steps out from behind the counter, unable to stay quiet. "Jane, it was my idea. I told her I'd cover. If anyone should get—"

"Leah," Jane cuts in sharply. "I didn't ask."

Your chest tightens. "Please," you say again, softer this time. "I've been a good employee. I've never been late, I pick up extra shifts, I—"

"And yet," Jane interrupts, "you still chose to lie to my face."

She taps something on her tablet, then looks back up at you. "I don't tolerate dishonesty. You're done here."

The words hit harder than you expect.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

Leah looks horrified. "Jane, wait—"

Jane turns to her. "And you."

Leah freezes. "Me?"

"You knowingly covered for her and falsified information," Jane says coolly. "That makes you just as responsible."

"What?" Leah's voice cracks. "Jane, I've worked here for two years—"

"And today is your last day," Jane says without hesitation. "You can both leave."

The café feels suddenly too quiet. Too bright.

"Jane, please," you say, panic rising. "Don't fire her because of me."

Jane doesn't even look at you anymore. "Decisions made."

Neither of you says anything for a moment.

Leah slowly unties her apron, hands trembling just slightly, then places it on the counter like it might bite her.

"This is insane," she mutters under her breath.

You swallow hard, your chest tight as you grab your bag. "Leah... I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't think—"

She shakes her head immediately. "No. Don't. This isn't on you."

Jane is already turned away, tapping on her tablet like none of you ever existed.

You and Leah walk out together, the bell above the door ringing one last time — loud, final.

You end up at a small restaurant nearby, sliding into a booth across from each other. The smell of fries and coffee fills the air, but neither of you touches the menu right away.

"So," Leah exhales, rubbing her face. "We're jobless."

You let out a weak laugh. "Homeless soon too, at this rate."

She gives you a look. "Hey. We'll figure something out."

You stare down at the table, thinking. And then—

"Wait," you say suddenly.

Leah looks up. "What?"

"I have a friend," you say slowly, your brain racing now. "Jin. He works at a club downtown. Like, a busy one."

Leah's eyes light up. "A club-club?"

You nod. "Yeah. He mentioned once they were always short on staff. I didn't think about it before but... it could work."

"That could work really well," she says. "Do you think he'd help?"

You're already pulling your phone out. "Only one way to find out."

You step away from the table as the call rings.

"Please pick up," you mutter.

"Y/N?" Jin answers. "What's up?"

You let out a breath. "Okay, quick summary — I just got fired. Like, five minutes ago. And my friend Leah too."

There's a pause. "Damn. That bad?"

"Yeah," you say. "I was wondering... are you still looking for people at the club?"

Another pause. Longer this time.

"Actually," Jin says, "yeah. We've been slammed lately. Let me talk to my manager and see what I can do."

Your heart jumps. "Really?"

"Yeah," he chuckles. "No promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you," you say quickly. "Seriously. I owe you."

You hang up and walk back to the booth, barely able to sit still.

"Well?" Leah asks immediately.

"He's gonna talk to his manager," you say, a small smile forming. "The club's popular, so they need people."

Leah grins. "Look at us. Fired before noon and already plotting a comeback."

You laugh, tension finally easing just a little.

Things are still messy.

Still uncertain.

But at least now... you're not completely stuck.

Your phone buzzes on the table.

You glance down, expecting it to be Jin again—but your chest tightens slightly when you see the name.

Jungkook.

You hesitate for half a second before opening the message.

Jungkook:
Hey. You still wanna finish packing the rest of your stuff today? We can move whatever's left to my place.

The words make your stomach flip.

Last night flashes back too easily—
The Kiss...

You shake your head slightly, grounding yourself.

Leah raises a brow. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," you say, typing already. "Just... life."

You reply.

You:
Yeah. That works. Tonight is good.

The response comes almost immediately.

Jungkook:
Okay, cool. I'll come by later then.

You bite your lip, then type again before you can overthink it.

You:
Also... there's something interesting I need to tell you.

Three dots appear. Disappear. Then reappear.

Jungkook:
Interesting how?

You smile to yourself.

You:
I'll tell you when I see you.

A pause.

Then—

Jungkook:
You can't just say that and not explain.

You glance up at Leah, who's watching you with a knowing look.

You type one last message.

You:
Watch me.

You lock your phone and lean back in the booth

A small smirk creeps onto your face as you lock your phone.

"Who was that?" Leah asks, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Eh, a friend," you reply casually, leaning back in your chair.

She hums, clearly not convinced. "You sure about that?"

"Very sure," you say, lips twitching.

Your phone buzzes again before she can press further. You glance down and immediately recognize the name at the top of the screen—a new group chat, created by Jungkook.

Jungkook: See y'all at the club tomorrow?

Almost instantly, replies flood in.

Namjoon: I'm down.
Hoseok: Say less.
Taehyung: Obviously.

You're barely paying attention until one name makes you pause.

Nara: Yes.

Your smile fades just a little as you roll your eyes. Since when was she even part of this group?

Before you can dwell on it, another notification pops up.

Jimin: I'm in.

Your eyes widen, and just like that, the smirk is back—bigger, brighter, impossible to hide.

"Seriously?" you murmur to yourself, shaking your head. "Jeon Jungkook, you're actually insane."

You can't help the quiet laugh that slips out. You'd only talked about this idea with him last night, half-joking, half-not—and somehow he'd already made it real. Planned. Executed.

Typical Jungkook.

The thought of seeing Jimin again sends a little spark of excitement through you, one you don't bother suppressing. Maybe Jungkook deserves some kind of... appreciation for this, you think, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard.

Across the table, Leah watches you with a concerned look, eyebrows raised.

"...Should I be worried?" she asks.

You glance up, still smiling. "Nah. Not yet."

Saying goodbye to Leah, you step out, the slight chill of the afternoon hitting your face. You grab the food for you and Jungkook from the counter, balancing the bags carefully as your phone buzzes in your pocket.

"Right," you murmur to yourself, pulling it out. Might as well call him now, you think.

"Missed me?" His voice comes through the line the second you pick up.

"Get over yourself," you reply, rolling your eyes even though you can hear the smirk in his tone.

"I was gonna suggest we start packing right now," you continue, "I'm free, and I can be home in less than ten minutes."

"Perfect," he says immediately. "I was gonna text you the same thing. Might have plans later, so now's perfect."

You hum in agreement, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Perfect. See you then."

"See you," he says, and you end the call

Placing the last box on top of the growing stack, you let out a dramatic groan. "Last one!" you announce, wiping your hands on your jeans.

Jungkook lets out a relieved laugh. "Finally. I was starting to think we'd be here forever."

Packing had gone faster than expected—most of the heavy lifting was done last night—so it made sense. Still, you're wiped.

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, a small smirk on his face. "You know... I was thinking. Why don't you just move in tonight? Your clothes are packed. What are you gonna wear out of that empty closet? Might as well set up your room at my place tonight."

You nod, already thinking about it. "Hmm... yeah, you're right. Plus, my house looks so empty and depressing right now. I'd rather be anywhere but here."

"Okay," he says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket, "I'll give you the keys. I'm going out tonight anyway."

"Where?" you ask, then quickly realize how blunt that sounded. "I mean—"

He waves you off casually. "Nara invited me to her place for dinner."

Your stomach twists in that "ugh" kind of way. "Seriously?"

He chuckles, like he notices your obvious disdain but doesn't care. "Yeah... I don't know why you two don't get along."

You mutter under your breath, not even looking at him. "I don't know either... ask her."

He raises an eyebrow, grinning, clearly entertained. "You really don't like her, do you?"

"I don't," you admit flatly. "And it's nothing against you, so don't read into it."

He nods, as if he gets it, but can't resist teasing. "She's chill though... and apparently she invited me 'kindly.'"

You roll your eyes, ignoring his playful tone. It's Nara you can't stand, not Jungkook. And as much as you try to care, the fact that he's going there tonight doesn't sting—your only concern is getting the hell out of your empty apartment.

"Cool," you say, dropping onto the couch, stretching. "So... keys, huh?"

"Keys," he confirms, holding them out. "You can move in whenever you want. I'll leave the place ready."

You smirk, snatching them from him. "Perfect. Finally, a house that doesn't look like a sad abandoned storage unit."

He laughs quietly, shaking his head. "You're dramatic, but I like it."

You grin.

You step into Jungkook's house, juggling a couple of bags in your arms. The place already feels different from your apartment—warmer, lived-in, but still his. You drop the bags near the door and glance around, taking in the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of fresh coffee from this morning.

"Your room's all ready," he calls from somewhere upstairs.

You follow the sound of his voice and push open his bedroom door. There he is, sprawled across the bed in one of his usual casual poses—arm draped over a pillow, one leg bent lazily. He's wearing a plain black tee and sweatpants, hair slightly tousled. Somehow, it's disarmingly perfect.

"Make yourself at home," he says with a smirk, patting the space beside him.

You don't hesitate. Kicking off your shoes, you collapse beside him, leaning your head against his chest. He adjusts slightly, draping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your back rests against him. The weight of him is easy, familiar, like you've done this a hundred times.

"You're really making yourself at home, huh?" he murmurs, the tone teasing but soft.

"Feels better than mine," you mutter, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

You twist slightly to look up at him, hesitating. "...Kook..."

He hums in acknowledgment without lifting his head, his hand tightening slightly around your shoulder.

"I got... fired," you blurt, suddenly needing to say it out loud.

His eyebrows knit together, and he actually sits up a little, propping himself on one elbow so he can look at you. "Wait—what? Already? What happened?" His voice is sharper than usual, a little edge of concern sneaking in.

"Yeah... Jane found out about the trip and she—well, she didn't really care about explanations. And she fired me. And Leah too," you add quickly, biting your lip.

Jungkook leans closer, tilting his head. "Wait, both of you?" He frowns, clearly engaged now, like he actually cares, his eyes tracking every little expression on your face. "But... did she... I mean, did she give you a reason?"

You shake your head, the words catching in your throat. "Just... I lied, but she didn't care about my side."

He sits up fully now, one arm draped over the back of the bed, his gaze fixed on you. "That's bullshit. You've worked your ass off there... always on time, always covering extra shifts. And this is how she does you?"

You shrug, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. "Apparently."

"But I already have a solution," you say, tilting your head slightly.

He lifts a brow, clearly intrigued. "Oh yeah? And what is it?"

"Do you remember Jin?" you ask.

He hums, thinking for a second. "The bartender?"

You grin, nodding a little too eagerly. "Yeah. Him. I asked if they were looking for employees, and honestly... I'd be totally down to work there as a bartender."

You shrug like it's no big deal, but when you glance back at him, there's a faint crease between his brows.

"What?" you ask immediately.

He exhales through his nose, eyes flicking away for half a second before returning to you. "If you do end up working there," he says, tone casual but firm, "you better be careful. You know that place pulls in a lot of weirdos."

You blink, caught off guard by the concern.

"And," he adds quickly, like it just occurred to him, "I can pick you up and drop you off. Late nights, drunk people—just... yeah."

You snort, shaking your head as you laugh. "Relax. Let me get hired first?"

He rolls his eyes, but there's a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm just saying."

"Mm-hmm," you tease, shifting closer. "Look at you, already planning my commute."

He scoffs. "Don't get used to it."

"So," he says eventually, voice casual. "Tomorrow."

You tilt your head slightly. "Tomorrow?"

"The club," he clarifies. "Seeing Jimin again."

You pause, then smile faintly. "I'm excited."

He hums. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you say, honest. "I don't really know what I expect. I just... want to see what happens."

Jungkook glances down at you, studying your face. "You nervous?"

"A little," you admit. "But mostly curious."

"That's good," he says quietly. "Curiosity's better than expectations."

You snort softly. "Since when are you wise?"

He smirks. "I have my moments."

Another beat passes, comfortable and warm, before he exhales and shifts beneath you. "I should probably get ready."

You groan lightly but nod, rolling onto your back as he sits up. He leans down, presses a quick kiss to your forehead — gentle, but it catches you off guard— then stands.

You watch him disappear down the hallway before finally pushing yourself up and making your way downstairs.

The house feels quiet.

You head to the dining table, pulling out the food you'd brought earlier and settling into one of the chairs. You're halfway through eating when footsteps sound on the stairs again.

"Hey—"

You look up.

And immediately regret it, because wow.

Jungkook stands at the bottom of the stairs, already ready to go — effortlessly put together, hair styled just enough to look intentional without trying too hard. Black jeans, dark shirt, jacket slung over one shoulder. He looks... unfair.

You freeze, fork hovering mid-air.

"What?" he asks, amused.

"Nothing," you say quickly, shoving food into your mouth like that'll cover it up.

He walks closer, stopping near the table. "You sure?"

"Very," you mumble.

He grabs his keys, then hesitates. His gaze softens slightly. "You good here?"

You nod. "Yeah. I'll probably just relax."

"Text me if you need anything," he says.

Before you can respond, he leans down and kisses you.

It's slow. Easy. Familiar.

For a second, you're caught off guard again.

It's not that you don't like the kiss — who wouldn't want to kiss him? — it just feels... strange. Doing this when you're not actually fucking. Isn't that technically outside the fuck-buddy zone?

Still, neither you nor Jungkook have any romantic feelings or intentions toward each other. If anything, it seems like he's enjoying the affection just as much as you are.

And so are you.

Maybe it's just the attraction. The kind that lingers and pulls you in even when there's no deeper meaning attached. The kind that creates moments like this without trying to turn them into anything more.

And honestly... what's wrong with that?

Fuck buddies are here to have fun anyway.

"See you later," he murmurs.

"Have fun," you reply.

The rest of the night passes in a blur of doing absolutely nothing—and somehow everything.

You take over the living room, legs tucked under you as Netflix plays in the background, more for noise than attention. At some point, you pause the show and wander into the bathroom, digging through your makeup bag just because you can.

Soft glam turns into something darker. Then something experimental. Then something you immediately wipe off.

You take selfies you don't send.
Delete them anyway.

After that comes a long shower, steam fogging up the mirror as you let the hot water wash the day off you.

You change into one of his oversized shirts, eat again because apparently stress gives you a second stomach, and end up on the phone with Taehyung, sprawled across the couch.

"So tomorrow," he says, "club. Group thing. You, Jimin, chaos."

"Basically," you reply. "Try not to embarrass me."

"I can't promise that," he laughs. "But I can promise to make it worse."

By the time you hang up, the house feels quieter. Later. Too quiet.

You're half-asleep when you hear the front door unlock.

You sit up just as Jungkook steps inside, jacket tossed over one shoulder, hair slightly messed up, looking unfairly good for someone who just got home past midnight.

"Oh," you say lightly. "I thought you weren't coming home tonight."

He snorts, kicking off his shoes. "Miss me already?"

"Relax," you say, grabbing a snack from the counter. "I was just mentally preparing to steal your bed."

He walks past you, close enough that you catch his cologne again. "You already did."

You talk for a few minutes—nothing serious. Just noise. Just comfort. Then the exhaustion hits you all at once.

"Goodnight," you say, heading toward the guest room.

"Night," he replies.

But sleep doesn't come.

You stare at the ceiling, the unfamiliar room too quiet, your brain way too loud. After fifteen minutes of tossing around, you finally give up.

His door is cracked open, light spilling into the hallway.

You peek in.

Jungkook's sitting on his bed, controller in hand, headset on, completely focused on the screen. For a second, you hesitate—about to turn around—

"Y/N," he says, without looking away. "Come in."

You pause. "...You're busy."

"Not really."

You step inside, lingering near the door. "Who are you playing with?"

He finally glances at you.

"Nara."

The name lands heavier than it should.

"Oh," you say, forcing casual into your voice. "Cool. I'll—uh—I'll go."

"Stay," he says easily, patting the space beside him with his foot. "I'll finish this round."

You hesitate for half a second... then sit.

Nara's laugh crackles through his headset—light, easy, familiar.

You don't mean to focus on it, but it's hard not to when it fills the quiet of the room. Jungkook laughs too, relaxed, teasing her back as their characters move in sync on the screen. They have good chemistry. Natural. Like people who've known each other long enough to fall back into rhythm without trying.

For a brief second, you wonder if maybe they should have something.

Not because it hurts.
Not because you want him like that.

You tell yourself it's just... annoying.

You've never liked Nara as a person. The way she always finds her way into spaces she knows she doesn't belong. The way she clings a little too hard, tries a little too much. And maybe it wouldn't bother you if she wasn't always there—hovering, present, waiting.

Especially when you know how badly she wants him.

"Alright," Jungkook says after a moment, adjusting his headset. "I'm hopping off. I'll catch you later."

Another laugh from her end. "Already?"

"Yeah," he replies casually. "I'm tired."

"Okay. Night, Kook."

"Night."

He takes the headset off and sets the controller aside, turning fully toward you like you're the only thing in the room now.

"Sorry," he says lightly. "You okay?"

You shrug, shifting your legs on the bed. "Yeah. I just couldn't sleep."

He studies you for a second. "Something on your mind?"

You hesitate, then decide there's no point in overthinking it. "Are you and Nara... getting close again?"

There's no edge to your tone. Just curiosity.

He blinks, then snorts softly. "Eh kinda"

"Okay," you say easily.

"I literally found out today that she plays the same game," he explains. "She mentioned it, so we decided to play."

You nod. "Makes sense."

He watches your face, like he's checking for something you're not giving him. "You don't care?"

You shrug again. "Why would I?"

A small smile tugs at his lips, relieved, amused—something softer you pretend not to notice.

He leans back against the headboard. "So... what usually helps you sleep?"

You glance at him. "Depends."

"Well," he says, patting the space beside him, "you're already here."

"Hell no," you laugh, but you still move closer, settling beside him as you lie on your side while he stays flat on his back.

"Stop staring," he says.

You snort. "I'm not even staring."

"Liar," he mutters.

You choose not to respond, simply closing your eyes. A second later, you feel his strong arm slide around your waist, pulling you in just enough to make your lips curve into a small smile. It's comfortable. Easy.

You inch closer without thinking.

"Better not snore," you warn.

He responds by fake snoring obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes.

Somewhere between that and the quiet hum of the room, you both fall asleep—without even realizing it.