Eunoia

In this tumult, he didn’t think of the intimate sight he’s unintentionally offering to you: exposed skin from head to toe. Such an outcome was rooted in other intentions before. Deliberate. 

Only hurts more to think about now.

But he doesn’t care. No, he cannot care. And he genuinely wouldn’t if you weren’t in the exact same state.

His eyes stay glued to the tree trunk, never panning to you. His body, no longer buoyed by the water, suddenly feels unbearably heavy; and by the time his clothes are close enough to grasp, he’s already fallen to his knees. He turns, his back meeting the rough tree.

He’s not concerned with what crawls up his skin or about the splinters the wood might punish him with. He needs to breathe.

The towel underneath offers at least some comfort, and he remembers to drag his shirt over the parts that aren’t yours to look at anymore.

There’s no time or mind for anything more. Your existence at this very clearing makes him want to throw up. He needs to focus on heaving his chest. On pulling in the crisp oxygen that the forest so generously provides.

But you don’t disappear. The illusion stays, still surrounded by a fairy tale mist that dips you in something utterly surreal.

Your form surfaces the way he did, as naked as he is. You’re a blurry figure; his vision trembles like his limbs. The elegance and beauty with which you walk isn’t new to him, but they are taunting him in a manner he has never perceived before.

And once you stand tall above him, looking down soon enough and your chest as calm as his isn’t, he knows he’s doomed.

There’s only so long that he can deny you.

You kneel. Pulling your legs in, you wrap your arms around them tightly; concealing the parts of you he always craved. Even now, a carnal desire grows within, but it is so promptly and swiftly overshadowed by the pain you cause him.

The lack of readiness to stay. The urge to bid him goodbye one more time. The entirely missing fabric covering your skin, adding to your mock.

He sees your willingness to love him one last time and cut him into pieces so clearly. You do not understand what you do to him, how this final meeting severs his heart.

Or maybe you do but cannot find it in you to care.

All that you’re doing might mean something. All of this exists to scramble his mind and hurt him further.

Your intentions have never been simple to decode, so he asks, “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

You’re right. Doing what, anyway? Why is he so dizzy, so… so out of it? And why does the world, turning too fast up until now, suddenly stop spinning when you put a hand to his chin, lifting his head to… to what?

It’s like you’re examining him.

Then, you whisper, “I… can’t stand him.”

Is that why you’re here? Because he could’ve figured this out himself, effortlessly too. Your face is too close now, nipples barely a hand-width from his chest when he breathes, “I… I know. I always knew.”

“I hate him,” you emphasise, “I hate how he talks to me. How he looks at me. And…” Your eyes wander down, along Jungkook’s body, pupils moving over the shirt and then back to your hand on his chin, “And I despise how he touches me. How he claims me.”

Jungkook will throw up. His chest is on fire.

He can feel the agony growing with every second and every syllable. It’s not that he hasn’t thought about it either. But hearing you say it, confirm it, shatters him.

How he claims me.

“What is he…” Jungkook starts but then stops again. Even if there was something happening behind closed doors that he’d like to resolve, you won’t let him.

That’s always been the entire point. You do not want to fight for this.

“Nothing forceful. But also nothing I didn’t expect,” you say, “I hate how he reminds me what I had.”

Jungkook shakes his head and your finger off in the process. You curl it in, your hand a fist now. He says, “I told you so many times. It’s too late.”

“It’s… it’s not.”

You always say whatever you want so blatantly. No regard for this human heart of his. What are you made of?

Jungkook’s limbs resemble the liquid water when you’re near; he can’t move or avert his gaze, can’t send you off with actual, true conviction in his words. It’s always been like this: him melting into the ground or the sheets or the fabric of his bed; and you stand tall, a brightly lit candle incinerating him.

Yet, he can’t help but let the fury spread in his chest. It’s scorching hot, and your weak, tentative smile fuels it further. Your words and your expressions — none of it help him calm the riot. Instead, his nostrils flare. A scream climbs up his throat.

But he doesn’t yell at you. Not even when you add a whispered, “I’m sorry. But it’s not. I just…”

You don’t finish your sentence and he doesn’t urge you to. He doesn’t want you to. No matter what you say, there’d be nothing but torture ahead. Your Sorrys are a constant, but only half-sincere, and after stomping on a fragile heart, you do not get to apologise anymore.

Jungkook shakes his head again, finally able to look away as if your eyes had his gape trapped before. A tongue darts out to lick his lower lip wet, and you, observing his every subtle touch, place a gentle thumb to the corner of his mouth, ghosting over the plushness before he dodges.

You push yourself up a little, some dirt on your legs. The lower parts that your pulled-in limbs hid so far are on full display again, and Jungkook tries, really, truly tries to not stare. But you’re not having any of it.

You’re not standing to leave. You’re still half-crouching, and soon, too sudden, dragging your left leg over to his right hip, straddling him with nothing between him and you but the thin piece of pathetic clothing.

The gasp he breathes is immediate and unintentional. Even if he tried to push you away now, you’d look through him instantly. His mind wants to fight you, but his body can’t. There are multiple ways he’s always belonged to you, and his body always revealed as much.

And still…

That smile. The pleading eyes. Your damn touch on his neck.

He gulps hard, hands rushing up to your waist. Softly, he tries to shove you off of him, but not really. It’s too much of an easy play for you, having him like this. And when you grip his face, it costs him an amount of energy that he certainly does not possess. Not anymore.

The escape out of your grip is tough, and the word he utters is feeble, “Don’t.”

But you insist. “One more time.” Nothing but whispers, even at such an empty place where nobody listens but the birds, the water and the moon. “I need you one more time.”

He’s lightheaded. Again. His words are mumbled; he thinks that if he was you, he wouldn’t quite believe himself either, “I’m not a puppet. I have… I’ve got real feelings. Unlike you.”

A smidge of pride blooms in him. He didn’t think he’d pull off such a confession, but you seem visibly startled. Somewhat irritated. He could never guess as much if he focused on your eyes only, but the slightly clenched jaw is… telling. New.

“You really think that?” you ask, still patient but… something is off. He doesn’t understand the approaching temper in your voice. You left him. “That I have no real feelings? That’s what you think?”

“I tried to love you,” Jungkook attempts, repeatedly swallowing the dry clump. “To help you see how I loved you and how you loved me. What we could’ve been if you’d let us.”

“Back then… Love wasn’t enough, Jungkook.”

Jungkook smirks. A hollow, sarcastic smirk. His body feels drugged, but he keeps himself upright. Perhaps his emotions have reached a point that exhausts him inside out, and he’s lost the capability to face you anymore. White flag, must be.

He repeats, one eyebrow cocked, “Love wasn’t enough?”

“Mh-mh,” you voice, a slight shake of your head. “Love isn’t stronger than grief, at least. They fulfill different purposes.” He looks up to you; your head is tilted, your lips a gorgeous curve. Prettier when you speak. “We break first and then love harder. We can use that love.”

Use that love…

It took you this long to paraphrase an idea he’d already presented to you over and over again.

A click of his tongue, and he wonders, “You want to use it now that… that we’ve become impossible? What about him?”

“I will find a way.”

“Empty promises.”

“No,” you vow, harsher this time. “Never empty.”

Your grip on his jaw is strong; he’s not used to you grabbing him like this. Your face draws in, and as your upper body leans forward, your lower half moves, too. Grinds on him. Or at least, grazes along just the length that he tried to hide under the shirt.

His fingers dig deeper into your waist. You sigh, and he knows exactly what this means. He can distinguish your breaths, can interpret your sounds. You’re not frustrated anymore, not tired like he is. You are pleased.

Because he’s growing; fuller and harder by the second.

“No,” he tries, “this might end horribly. If you end up… with…” His hands grip your shoulders, but he isn’t really pushing. Not lifting you off of him. “They will kill you and me both.”

Your smile widens, as if you’ve thought it all out; as if you’ve come here with a plan that presumably profits nobody but you. And Jungkook already knows he doesn’t want, doesn’t need to hear it before you say it, “They can’t. Even if… they’ll just think it’s his.”

No. No, no, no.

Have you hiked up all the way to this place to use him as a rebound? All the promises you’re forming right now, are they in vain, to offer some fleeting relief? I will find a way.

You won’t.

“That’s not enough for me,” Jungkook mouths, his words stuck at the back of his tongue, muttered, “it means… you’re not truly trying to call him off. You’ll go back and find an excuse. Not to leave him, but me.”

“I only gave an answer to your statement, Jungkook,” you defend, sugarcoating your words, honey in your voice, “truth is: I’m ready to die for this one moment alone. Aren’t you?”

“No… no—”

“Please. Even if you don’t have it in you to fight anymore…” You lean in further, your nipples touching his chest. You keep grinding. “Just this once. Give me one more night.”

His shirt slides off his lap just a little but not enough; not in the way Jungkook inwardly hopes, just so he can blame the lust multiplying on anything but himself. Despite everything — the anger, the disappointment, the approaching, everlasting pain — he wishes he could feel you better.

Just like you are perceiving the constant twitches below. No hiding it.

And then, you take it a step further, sending a shiver down his spine, cold under his burning skin, “You can do whatever you want with me.”

His chest and stomach stir. His body feels heavy, your touch razorsharp. “What?”

“Whatever you want,” you reiterate, “I want you to. I need you to.”

Your breath shakes as you shift back again, all along the line of his stiffening cock, the shirt moving off more. You can already see the V-line when you glance down, and if you weren’t sitting on your throne the way you are, his entire shaft would jump out beneath the clothing.

It doesn’t. Instead, it stays trapped under you, blue and aching and never reversed to its previous state; even less when you repeat yet again—

“Anything… anything you want.”

The control diminishes; and despite all his attempts, Jungkook snaps.

wow, it's been aaaages since i posted a teaser. :') i was originally just going to release the fic directly, but i miss posting around here... and i wanted/needed some motivation as well. sorry the teaser got so long but there was no way to shorten it and i'm also too exhausted today to tweak stuff fksjakfjkd

He was completely out. a deep, heavy sleeper, it turned out. Though every now and then you swore you felt him shift with awareness; some part of him still alert even in sleep. Right now, though, he was dead to the world, face buried comfortably between your breasts, one strong arm slung across your waist, his big body half draped over yours.

You let out a quiet sigh and gave up on waking him for the moment. Instead, your fingers moved slowly through his soft dark hair, ruffling it gently before wrapping your arm around his head, holding him closer. He was so large against you. Broad shoulders, long limbs, heavy warmth that it still felt surreal.

A man was sleeping in your bed. Not just any man. Jungkook. In your pristine, perfectly curated space that had never known another person like this.

And it was already his birthday.

You hadn’t slept more than twenty minutes at a time since the realization hit you hours ago. You’d been counting down the minutes in the dark, staring at the ceiling while he switched positions restlessly... back hugging you, then pulling you on top of him, and eventually settling with his face nuzzled warmly against your chest.

You still didn’t know what to do.

A gift? Breakfast? Wake him up with kisses? Pretend you didn’t know? The thought of doing something too thoughtful felt dangerous. too couple-y. And way too serious for whatever this messy, undefined long-term thing between you was.

But ignoring it completely felt worse.

You glanced down at him again. His breath was slow and soft against your skin, lips slightly parted. He looked softer like this... younger, almost. The usual sharpness in his face had melted away in sleep.

You ran your fingers through his hair once more, slower this time. “Happy birthday, you pain in the ass,” you whispered under your breath, so quietly you barely heard it yourself.

Jungkook didn’t stir.

Midnight seemed to stretch on forever, and no matter how hard you tried, sleep refused to come. You stayed like that for a while longer, arm wrapped around his big frame, fingers idly playing with his hair, before carefully trying to peel him off you.

It took effort. Jungkook was heavy and annoyingly clingy even in sleep. You moved slowly, lifting his arm and sliding out from underneath him. He made a low, discontented sound, face scrunching for a moment before relaxing again. You held your breath until you were sure he wouldn’t wake.

Quietly, you slipped out of bed and slid your feet into your soft cream slippers, fumbling for your charger. The penthouse was still dark, only the earliest hints of dawn filtering through the tall arched windows.

You don’t really know’ birthdays unless they’re yours. People might call you selfish for it, maybe even self-centered, but there’s rarely a memorable person whose birthday actually stuck with you.

Jungkook isn’t a memorable person. you immediately scratched that thought. He just… happens to be here. And you happen to know it’s his birthday. So the most logical, least complicated thing you could do was wish him.

The moment you climbed back onto the bed, Jungkook stirred. His arm reached out instantly, wrapping around your waist with a sleepy grunt and pulling you back toward him. You had to push gently at his shoulder again, swinging your leg over until you were straddling his waist.

He was half awake now, eyes barely cracked open, heavy with sleep. His hands settled lazily on your thighs as he blinked up at you, still groggy. You quietly plugged your phone in while Jungkook was busy brushing your hair out of your face with slow, clumsy fingers.

“…What are you doing up?” he asked, voice deep and raspy, squeezing your thighs absentmindedly.

Your heart clenched at how messy his hair looked and how groggy his voice was.

“I don’t know…” you said, fighting back a smile when he scrunched his brows in confusion. You leaned down a little closer, resting your hands on his chest. “Guess what day it is.”

He cracked one eye open properly, looking mildly suspicious. “…Tuesday?”

You let out a soft scoff. “Wrong. Try again.”

“Wednesday?”

“Cold.”

He sighed, clearly too sleepy for this. “Just tell me.”

You stared at him, waiting. When he genuinely seemed lost, you raised your brows. “Jungkook… it’s your birthday.”

He blinked slowly. Then frowned. “…It is?”

The pure confusion on his face made you sit up straighter, genuinely shocked. “You don’t remember your own birthday?” you asked, eyes wide. “Like… at all?”

Jungkook shrugged one shoulder, still looking half asleep. “Lost track of time. Days all feel the same lately.”

You stared at him, completely thrown off. Birthdays had always been big, extravagant, and elaborate events in your world, planned months in advance. Forgetting your own birthday felt ridiculous.

“Birthdays are special,” you emphasised after peeking at his stoic expression.

“Yeah?” He hummed, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he squeezed your thighs again. “Special how?”

“My birthday is special,” you continued, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’d never forget it. Ever.”

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and raspy in the quiet morning light. He looked genuinely amused by your shock, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist.

“Relax, princess,” he murmured, eyes drifting shut again even as he smiled. “Not everyone throws themselves a gala on their birthday.”

You lightly smacked his chest. “I do not throw myself galas.”

He peeked one eye open. “You kind of do.”

You let out a sigh but couldn’t fight the small smile pulling at your lips. Even half asleep and messy, he was annoying. And somehow still unfairly attractive.

His words, however, tugged at a memory.

Last year, your father had thrown you one of his signature over-the-top galas right before he left for that extended overseas project. Being his only daughter, he treated your birthday like another business opportunity to show off his perfect little trophy. The entire night was excessive, and there were too many wealthy strangers pressing cheques into your hand with plastic smiles instead of actual gifts.

Your mother had done her part at exactly midnight: a short text and a pair of ridiculously expensive heels she’d definitely already worn herself to some other event. She hadn’t come in person, of course. She never did.

Minho had been there, still new as your boyfriend, still trying to figure out how to fit into your world. And wherever Minho went, Jungkook followed.

You were standing beside Minho, smiling politely at yet another guest who had just handed you an envelope with a generous check, when you felt that familiar prickle on the back of your neck. You turned your head slightly and there he was. Jungkook.

Leaning against a marble pillar across the room, drink in hand, dressed in all black like he was attending a funeral instead of a birthday gala. His eyes were already on you. and the second your gazes met, that same unbearable tension you’d been trying to bury flared up instantly.

It was still early in whatever this hateful tension between you two was. You couldn’t even glance at him when Minho was around without feeling sick with guilt and confusion. That night you’d almost hooked up with him haunted you constantly. The memory of his mouth, his hands… it made you feel dirty for jumping straight into a relationship with his best friend right after. So you avoided looking at him like your life depended on it.

“What’s he doing here?” you muttered under your breath to Minho, looking away.

Minho had barely glanced in Jungkook’s direction before scoffing lightly. “Since when do you have a problem with my best friend being here?” He slid his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against his side as though you were an accessory he needed to display. “Relax, babe. It’s your birthday. Smile.” he said, almost dismissive in a way that made something inside you bristle.

There was obviously no real concern in his voice, just mild irritation that you weren’t playing your part perfectly. You were his girlfriend. The trophy. You were supposed to look pretty and happy, not tense.

You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

A few minutes later, when Minho had gotten pulled into conversation with some other friends, you’d slipped away, heading straight toward the tall cake table where Jungkook was standing, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you asked sharply, keeping your voice low. “I didn’t invite you, that’s for sure.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a slow, lazy smirk as he looked down at you. “Your boyfriend did.”

“You’re not Minho's plus one,” you shot back. “You’re his shadow.”

He tilted his head, eyes dragging over you slowly, from the diamond necklace at your throat to the satin dress hugging your body. “You look nice,” he said, completely ignoring your jab. His gaze stayed fastened on you, unhurried.

“Nice?” you repeated, raising a brow. “I always look nice.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a sly smirk. He tilted his head slightly, watching you like you were the only person in the entire ballroom. “Yeah… you do,” he murmured, “Doesn’t mean I can’t say it.”

You quickly glanced around the crowded room, heart skipping as you checked if anyone was close enough to have heard him. Thankfully, the nearest guests were several feet away, laughing loudly over their champagne flutes.

“Where’s my birthday gift then?” you asked, ignoring his flirting entirely. “Since you crashed my party and all.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, swiped his finger across the edge of your extravagant birthday cake, and dabbed the frosting right onto the tip of your nose.

“Happy birthday,” he said, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your shocked expression.

Jungkook’s hands squeezed your waist gently, pulling you out of the memory.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, voice still thick and raspy from sleep. His thumbs stroked slow circles on your skin as he studied your face.

You shook your head lightly and forced a small smile.

“Nothing,” you murmured. “Just thinking about how different this is from last year. My birthday.”

He hummed, eyes half lidded, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “You mean when you spent the whole night acting like I didn’t exist?”

“I was tolerating you. Barely.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Let me remind you, in case you forgot — you weren’t even invited.”

Jungkook shut his eyes again, humming like he was savoring the memory. “And you still found your way over to me by the cake.” he murmured, clearly pleased with himself.

“I was the birthday girl,” you shot back. “Of course I’d have to greet every single guest. Even the uninvited one who decided to show up and ruin my night.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and sleepy as his hands slid higher up your waist, pulling you a little closer. “Ruin your night?” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “Strong choice of words. How so?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to back down even as his touch sent warmth spreading across your skin.

“You know exactly how,” you said, tilting your head. “You spent the entire night staring at me like you were daring me to do something stupid. Every time I turned around, there you were. Like you wanted me to slip up in front of everyone.”

Jungkook’s smirk turned sharper, more dangerous. “Slip up about what?” he asked, almost innocently.

You swallowed, heat crawling up your neck as the memory flashed through your mind, that specifc night weeks before your birthday gala, his head between your thighs, the way he’d torn your first real orgasm out of you like it was nothing. The way you’d shaken and gasped and realized you’d been faking it with everyone else, including Minho.

“My secret,” you whispered, eyes narrowing.

Jungkook’s gaze darkened with satisfaction. He knew exactly what you meant.

“Ah,” he murmured, lips curving with dark satisfaction. “You mean the one where the birthday girl came undone from a man’s tongue for the first time.”

“Shut up,” you hissed. But Jungkook wasn’t done. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.

“Tell me, princess, does Minho still think he’s the one who gets you there?” He pulled you in closer, “Or does he know you’ve been ruined for him ever since I had my mouth on you?”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, a sharp smile curling on your lips. “You tell me.” you shot back. “Does Minho also know you fuck his ex behind his back?”

Jungkook stared at you for a long second, the lazy smirk slowly returning. “Low blow,” he murmured as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But you’re not denying it.”

You held his gaze, refusing to back down even as your heart hammered wildly.

“You know what I think?” you tilted your head with a sweet smile. “I think you should go back to sleep.”

You tried to shift off him, but his arms locked around you like steel bands, keeping you right where you were.

“I liked you a lot better when you were asleep,” you added, “At least then you weren’t talking.”

Jungkook let out a deep, amused chuckle. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling lightly in your hair as he tugged your head back just enough to look at you properly.

“Yeah?” he murmured, eyes dark and playful. “Too bad for you. I’m wide awake now.”

He flipped you suddenly, reversing your positions so you were pinned beneath him. His body covered yours, warm and heavy, as he hovered above you with a dangerous little smirk.

“And since we’re both awake…” he whispered, lips nearly brushing against yours, “I think it’s time I get my actual birthday present.”

You gasped, hands immediately flying up to press against his chest, stopping him from lowering himself fully onto you.

“Jungkook...” you breathed, eyes wide.

The reality of the situation hit you all at once.

A man was pinning you down in your bed. In your bedroom. The same room that had been your untouched sanctuary for years. The soft cream bedding, the plushies sitting innocently on the shelves and window seat, they were all watching. You suddenly felt the ridiculous urge to reach over and turn their faces away.

Thankfully, your phone started ringing on the nightstand, right on cue, the sharp sound cutting through the tension.

Jungkook startled slightly, giving you just enough space to slide your hand under the pillow and fumble for it. The second you saw the name on the screen, your stomach dropped.

“Fuck,” you hissed.

You shoved Jungkook hard in the chest. He stumbled back, stunned, landing on the bed beside you as you scrambled to sit up, heart hammering wildly.

“It’s... my dad,” you whispered frantically, staring at the vibrating phone like it was a live grenade.

Jungkook propped himself up on one elbow, hair messy, expression shifting from playful to alert in a heartbeat. He watched you, silent, as your hands shook while holding the phone.

This couldn’t be good.

Your father hadn’t called you in nearly two weeks, and now of all days, when you’d risked everything by letting Jungkook stay the night, he suddenly decides to call? The timing felt too suspicious.

You swallowed hard and answered before it went to voicemail.

“…Hello?”

“Have I awoken you?” Your father’s voice came through, formal and clipped, the way he always carried himself.

“Hi Dad,” you said quickly, trying to sound normal. “No. No, you haven’t.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “What are you doing awake so early?”

You felt your stomach twist. His tone was already laced with suspicion, like he knew something was off.

“I… couldn’t sleep,” you replied, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ve called to ask you something.”

Your grip on the phone tightened. “What is it?”

Your father’s voice dropped slightly, becoming stricter. “I’ll be returning from overseas sooner than expected. There are matters I need to handle in person.” He paused. “I trust you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble?”

You glanced at Jungkook, who was now sitting up fully beside you, watching your face with sharp, unreadable eyes.

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “Of course.”

Your father hummed, the sound low and unconvinced. “Good. Because I expect things to remain that way.”

There was a heavy pause before his voice dropped, “Is there something you have to tell me?”

You stuttered. “No?”

“Are you sure?” His tone sharpened. “Think carefully.”

You gripped the phone tighter, knuckles turning white. You knew this tone all too well. He knew something. He was giving you one last chance to come clean before he laid it all out, along with the consequences.

“I’m sure, dad,” you said, biting your lip hard as you waited.

Your father let out a long, disappointed sigh. “I heard you went to one of your mother’s galas.”

You nearly collapsed with relief. Oh thank god. He didn’t know about Jungkook. Anything was better than that.

“Oh… yeah,” you said, trying to keep your voice cool. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“You should have,” he replied, softening just a fraction. “But it’s fine. As long as you had a decent time.”

He paused. “Did you meet your mother?”

You swallowed. “Yes.”

“How was she?” His voice carried a dangerous edge. he was testing you.

“Fine,” you replied, keeping your tone flat. “Same as always.”

“I see.” he caught it immediately. “She seems to be making an effort to fix things with you. I can tell.”

Right, you thought bitterly, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as memories of the gala flashed through your mind.

You desperately wanted to steer the conversation far away from her.

“When are you coming back, dad?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Do you have an actual date yet?”

Your father let out a low hum. “Why the sudden interest?” His tone sharpened, laced with suspicion. “You’re not hiding anything from me, are you?”

You stole a quick glance at Jungkook. He was still sitting beside you. The sight of him shirtless, in your bed, made your stomach twist with anxiety.

“Nothing at all,” you said quickly. “I’ve just been busy with university stuff. The sorority formal is in two days, so I’ve been caught up with rehearsals and everything.”

There was a long pause on the other end. You could practically feel him weighing your words.

“Hm. I see.” His voice was calm, but you knew that tone well. it was the calm before he decided whether or not to push harder. “Make sure you’re keeping your priorities straight. I don’t want to hear about any distractions.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I know. I’m handling it.”

“Good,” he said finally. “I’ll be back in the country by the end of this week. We’ll talk more then.”

“Okay. Safe travels.”

“Take care of yourself.”

The line went dead.

You slowly lowered the phone, staring at the blank screen for a second before letting out a long, shaky breath. You covered your face with both hands, trying to collect yourself.

“How much of that did you hear?” your voice was muffled.

You peeked out through two fingers.

Jungkook had sat up straight, the lazy, sleepy warmth from earlier completely gone.

“Everything,” he said quietly.

You lowered your hands completely, suddenly feeling exposed in your own bed. “He doesn’t know about you,” you added quickly, almost reassuringly. “And it’s best if he doesn't.”

Jungkook’s eyes stayed on you. “What’s the worst that would happen?” he asked. “If he knew?”

You shifted closer to him on the bed, placing your phone on the nightstand. “Well,” you started, a nervous giggle slipping out, “first of all, you’re not my boyfriend or anything.” you said it lightly, since it was obvious.

“And if you were…” You paused, thinking long and hard, biting the inside of your cheek. “I think he’d lose his mind. He’d probably have you investigated, then me, then he’d try to ship me off somewhere far away until I ‘came to my senses.’”

You let out another small, bitter laugh, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “He’s very controlling when it comes to… certain things. Especially people he thinks aren’t ‘suitable.’”

Jungkook stayed silent, watching you.

“Why do you think I’ve never had any boy over?” you continued, softer now. “Like… ever.”

You didn’t tell him the deeper truth; that you’d never formed a real enough connection with anyone to let them into your private space. Instead, you gave him the easier answer. “My dad’s just looking out for me. And apparently, who he deems perfect for me has a very specific checklist.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. “What’s the checklist?” he asked, clearly interested. “What kind of guy would your father approve of?”

You let out a small, tired laugh and leaned back against the headboard, thinking.

“I don’t know… someone driven, I guess. Someone who knows what he wants and actually works for it. Not just some rich trust fund kid coasting through life.”

You paused, describing traits without realizing it.

“He’d have to be strong,” you continued, your eyes unconsciously dragging along Jungkook’s bare torso, tracing the defined lines of his chest and shoulders. “Physically, yeah… Someone who doesn’t fold under pressure. Someone who can handle responsibility. Protective, maybe even a little intense.”

You paused, lost in thought.

“He has to be smart, too,” you continued, eyes still tracing Jungkook’s hands absentmindedly. “My dad loves someone who can actually challenge him. He graduated top of his class from one of the best math programs in the country — and if you’re bad at math, he basically thinks you’re beneath him. I’m horrible at it, so he’d rather die than watch me end up with someone just as clueless.”

You let out a small, self deprecating laugh. “The last time we talked about this, I remember my dad said something like… the day someone actually patient and calculated finds a way to handle someone as spoiled and stubborn as me, will be the day he can finally rest.”

You shook your head, chuckling softly at the memory, completely unaware of how perfectly you’d just described the man currently sitting in your bed.

“Anyway,” you muttered, trying to brush it off. “That’s what he thinks. He’s always had very… specific standards.”

You paused, then added with a teasing lilt, “And so far, no one’s reached there yet either.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked up to yours, a slow spark of challenge in them. “Oh?” he said, voice low. “No one at all?”

You shrugged, biting back a smile as you shifted closer on the bed, until you swung one leg over and settled yourself on his lap, straddling his waist, drawn in by the tension humming between you.

“Nope. Not even close.”

Your shorts rode up slightly as you did, the soft fabric barely covering the tops of your thighs.

He didn’t stop you. His hands found your hips immediately, sliding down to rest on the bare skin just beneath the hem of your shorts. His palms were warm, fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin there, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles.

You lowered your head to his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pressed closer. His fingers kept sliding higher, brushing along your inner thighs. You hissed softly at the contact, a warm rush flooding through you. Your sensitivity was heightened because of your period, and every subtle movement made heat pool low in your belly.

“Kook…” you breathed, voice shaky, placing your hand on top of his, stopping him just as his fingers inched further up, dangerously close to the curve of your bare ass beneath the shorts.

Jungkook paused immediately, but he didn’t pull away. He turned his head slightly, lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. “Too much?” he asked, though his fingers stayed right where they were, warm and tempting.

You nodded against his neck, breathing uneven. “Yeah… I’m really sensitive right now.”

Despite your words, Jungkook’s fingers inched higher anyway, tracing the soft skin of your inner thighs. Your legs twitched involuntarily at the contact, a sharp shiver running through you as heat pooled low in your belly.

“I know,” He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. “I can feel how warm you are.”

Your thighs pressed together instinctively around his hand, but it only trapped his fingers closer to where you were already aching and slick.

His fingers stilled on your inner thigh, warm and patient, as he pressed a slow kiss just below your ear. “Can you take two fingers, love?” he asked, low and husky against your skin. “I’ll be gentle.”

You shivered at the question. The thought of his fingers sliding inside you right now made your stomach flutter with both want and uncertainty. “I… I don’t know,” you whispered honestly, voice shaky. “It might be too much.”

“That’s okay…” Jungkook murmured, kissing the side of your neck softly. “We can stop.”

“No…” you whispered, voice shaky but desperate. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He paused, then let out a low, rough sound of approval against your skin.

“Turn over for me,” he said gently.

You did as he asked, rolling onto your side. Jungkook moved behind you, pressing his chest to your back, one strong arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

His hand slid down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts and panties. You were already soaked, more sensitive, and more intense.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he groaned softly, fingers gliding through your folds. “So sensitive for me, aren’t you?”

You whimpered as his fingers circled your clit, the lightest touch making your hips jerk. Everything felt amplified, every brush of his fingertips sent sparks shooting through you.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, condescending in the hottest way. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

He pushed one finger inside you slowly, then another. You gasped sharply, back arching as the stretch hit you. Your walls clenched around his fingers instantly, overly sensitive and fluttering.

“Shh, I know,” he cooed against your ear, curling his fingers just right. “Feels too much, doesn’t it? Poor thing… body’s so worked up.”

You moaned, pushing back against his hand as he started pumping slowly, deep and deliberate. Every thrust made your cramps ease and flare at the same time, pleasure and pressure mixing until you couldn’t tell which was which.

“Jungkook...” you whimpered, voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he praised, lips brushing your neck. “Taking my fingers so well even when you’re this sensitive. Such a good girl for me.”

He added a third finger, stretching you fuller, and you cried out, thighs shaking. The overstimulation hit fast, tears pricked your eyes as pleasure bordered on too much.

“Please...” you begged, voice wrecked. “Please, kook… I need you. Inside me. Please.”

He groaned, grinding his hard cock against your ass. “You sure?” he asked, voice strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” you gasped, pushing back against him desperately. “I want you. Please fuck me.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath. He pulled his fingers out, quickly shoving your shorts and panties down just enough. You felt the thick head of his cock press against your entrance, hot and heavy.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, groaning deeply as your tight, slick heat swallowed him.

You whimpered, fingers digging into the sheets. It had been a while, and he felt huge. the stretch burned even with how wet you were. Your walls pulsed around him, fluttering and clenching as he kept pressing forward until he bottomed out with a low, guttural sound.

“Too big…” You let out a broken whine, trembling as you tried to adjust to his size. “Kook, you’re so deep...”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. One arm wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against him as he stayed buried to the hilt. “But you’re taking it so well. Letting me stretch you open hm.”

He started thrusting slow, deep rolls of his hips that made your whole body jolt. Every stroke dragged against that perfect spot inside you, mixing the ache of your period with sharp, filthy pleasure.

You were a mess already. Sweating, whimpering, legs shaking as he fucked you from behind. Jungkook buried his face in your neck again, inhaling deeply like he couldn’t get enough of your scent.

The obscene sound of him sliding in and out of your soaked pussy filled the room. You moaned loudly, pushing back against him despite the overstimulation.

Gasping, tears slipped down your cheeks. “Jungkook, I’m... I’m gonna...”

Jungkook groaned, hips snapping forward again, burying himself to the hilt. “Mm, I know baby,” he rasped, voice dark and soothing all at once.

You tried to protest, but he thrust deep again before you could form words, punching the air out of your lungs. All that came out was a broken, needy moan.

He slowed for a moment, grinding deep instead of thrusting, letting you feel every inch of him.

“Tell me where it hurts,” he murmured against your ear, one hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your lower belly, right where you felt him the most. “Here?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering. But even as you struggled, your hips pushed back against him, chasing the overwhelming sensation.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, clearly fighting his own restraint.

“Missed this,” he groaned, voice rough. “Fuck, I missed this so much.”

He kept fucking you rough, deep thrusts mixed with slower, grinding ones, never letting you fully catch your breath. Every time you got close to the edge, he’d push you further, dragging it out until you were sobbing and babbling incoherently.

“Missed how fucking tight you get,” he rasped, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in harder. “Missed the way you clench around me like you don’t want me to stop… even when it’s too much for you.”

“Kook... please... it’s too much... can’t–”

“You can,” he whispered, pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. “You’re doing so well for me. Just a little more, baby. Let me feel you pretty girl.”

Your mind went completely blank. All you could do was moan and tremble as he fucked you through the overwhelming waves of pleasure and pain, his cock hitting so deep it felt like he was reaching your womb with every thrust.

Finally, Jungkook’s rhythm faltered. His breathing grew ragged against your neck as he buried himself as deep as possible.

“Fuck...” he groaned. “Gonna cum inside you… fill you up.”

You whimpered desperately, pushing back against him. “Please... inside... please...”

With a deep, guttural moan, Jungkook thrust once, twice, then came hard, pulsing deep inside you. You felt every thick spurt as he flooded your womb, warm and endless. He held you tight against him, hips grinding slowly as he emptied himself completely, groaning your name against your skin.

You were shaking, overstimulated and full, tears slipping down your cheeks as the intensity finally began to ebb.

Jungkook stayed buried deep inside you, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder as you both came down. Both of you were breathing hard, skin slick with sweat, the room filled with the heavy scent of sex.

“Mmm… now my sheets are all dirty,” you complained, voice hoarse and tired, even as you intertwined your fingers with his where his hand rested on your stomach.

Jungkook let out a quiet laugh against your skin, the sound warm and fond. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck. “You felt too good. Couldn’t stop myself from filling you up.”

You shivered at his words, cheeks burning even as a tiny, satisfied smile tugged at your lips. “You’re such a mess,” you whispered, scolding him.

“You okay? Not hurting too much?” His fingers gently stroked your lower belly, right where he was still buried deep.

You shook your head slightly, squeezing his hand. “It’s a lot… but it feels good too,” you admitted shyly. “Especially the cramps. They’re better now.”

Jungkook hummed softly, pressing another kiss to your shoulder as he stayed buried inside you for a few more moments, reluctant to pull away. Eventually, he slipped out slowly, both of you hissing at the loss. You winced as you felt the warm trickle between your thighs.

“We don’t have much time,” you said with a groan, already feeling the weight of the day returning. “I need to clean up… we both do. I have to go back to campus and deal with all my disappearances.”

Jungkook nodded, brushing your hair back from your face. “Ok. Shower?” he offered, already starting to sit up.

“No?” you said immediately as you sat up, pulling the sheet over your lap. “We’re not showering together. That’s… weird.”

“Oh?” Jungkook paused, then let out a low, amused chuckle. He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly entertained. “You let me fuck you while you’re on your period, dripping all over my cock… but showering together is where you draw the line?”

Your face burned. You grabbed a pillow and lightly smacked his arm with it. “Shut up! It’s different,” you mumbled, embarrassed. “Sex is one thing. Showering together...” feels too intimate — you refrain from admitting.

He grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes now.

“Alright, princess. You go first. I’ll wait.”

You nodded, legs a little shaky as you slid off the bed. The moment you stood, you winced, a mix of soreness, cramps, and the mess between your thighs making it hard to walk properly. Jungkook watched you with a small, fond smirk but didn’t comment.

You disappeared into the bathroom, and after you were done, he took his turn.

While he showered, you quickly stripped the sheets, cheeks burning as you balled them up and tossed them into the laundry hamper. You grabbed a fresh set from the closet, struggling a bit to remake the bed with your sore body.

Then your eyes landed on your plushies.

They were all still sitting on the shelves and window seat, innocently staring at the bed like judgmental little witnesses.

You groaned.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, walking over and turning each one around so they faced the wall. “Perverts.”

You were one second away from screaming.

The student center atrium felt suffocating, with all the unfamiliar faces brushing past you like you were invisible. After the long, tense meeting where you’d finally shown up, only to get quietly lectured by Lina the entire time about your absence... you’d volunteered to hand out the rest of the flyers yourself. It was your way of apologizing without having to say the words.

Your lower back throbbed, skin was sticky with sweat, and the stack of flyers in your hands felt heavier with every minute. You just needed a breather: two minutes. That’s all. But of course, there was no one around who actually knew you.

Until you caught movement near the old storage unit tucked beside the library annex.

A familiar figure leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching you.

Your whole body sagged with relief. “Hey! I know you—” you started, already walking toward him.

Jungkook glanced once down the hallway, making sure no one was around, then grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside the cramped storage room without a word. The door clicked shut behind you, the lock turning with a soft snap.

You barely had time to react before your back hit the wall and Jungkook was right there, crowding you, one hand planted beside your head.

“What the hell, kook?!” you hissed, heart still racing from the sudden pull. “What are you even doing here?”

After everything that happened this morning, the way he’d had you pinned beneath him, the way he’d fucked you so deep... seeing him here, in public, felt dangerously risky. Your body was still sore and sensitive, a constant reminder of how thoroughly he’d taken you just hours ago.

He tilted his head, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he pressed you a little more firmly against the door. “Thought you were glad to see me?” His voice was teasing, but his eyes scanned your face carefully. “Looked like you were about to cry handing out those flyers.”

You let out a frustrated breath, shoulders slumping. The stress of the last hour, Lina’s lecture, the whispering sorority sisters, the cramps, all the sweat, was still buzzing under your skin. You were painfully aware of how gross you felt right now, standing in front of him in sweatpants, hair slightly messy.

“I… I wasn’t expecting you to show up here,” you admitted quietly, voice soft. “It’s risky. Someone could’ve seen you pull me in.”

Jungkook pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his eyes dropping to your legs.

“You’re wearing sweatpants?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He’d only ever seen you in skirts, dresses, and heels. never this. But mainly, you’d left the penthouse this morning in a skirt. He knew that because he’d made it almost impossible for you to put it on, too busy pressing his mouth everywhere the skin of your inner thighs allowed. kissing, licking, sucking marks into the soft flesh until your legs were shaking and you’d barely been able to stand straight.

“I changed after first block. I was paranoid I’d stained my skirt.” You subtly pressed your hands against his chest, trying to create even an inch of space. “I’m sweating like crazy, and my period isn’t a joke. Can you not pin me against the wall right now? I probably stink.”

A slow, dangerous smirk pulled at Jungkook’s lips. “Really?” he asked, voice dripping with mischief. He knew exactly what he was about to do.

“No!” you protested, but clearly, it was too late.

He leaned in and buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. Then he moved lower, nose brushing along your collarbone, the side of your arm, sniffing you up without an ounce of shame. The audacity of it made your eyes widen.

“Gross! You’re disgusting!” you squealed, half laughing as you tried to push his shoulders away. Breathy and uncontrollable giggles rolled out of you, despite how mortified you felt.

Jungkook just hummed against your skin, completely unbothered. “Fuck,” he rasped, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. “You smell so fucking good to me.”

You let out another helpless giggle, squirming in his hold while your hands weakly pushed at his chest. “You’re so weird...”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and playful, smirk still firmly in place. “What?” he asked innocently. “You said you were sweating. I was just checking.”

You still tried to keep some distance, glancing around the cramped storage unit, trying to figure out why he’d dragged you in here in the first place. But Jungkook ignored your wandering eyes completely. He leaned in again, caging you against the wall with both arms.

“Where’s my birthday kiss?” he asked, low and teasing.

You looked around the tiny room dramatically, pretending to search every dusty corner. “I don’t see it either,” you said sarcastically, eyebrows raised. “Must’ve gotten lost on the way here.”

Jungkook let out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing at you in a dangerously fond way.

“Oh, you’re being cute,” he murmured, one hand sliding down to grip your waist.

You gave him a deadpan look. “Think this is cute?” you said seriously. “I am far from being cute with you right now.”

He only grinned wider, clearly not believing you.

You sighed, shaking your head, leaning it back against the wall. “Lina just chewed me out. The sorority’s falling apart because I’ve been… distracted.” You looked up at him, a tired smile tugging at your lips. “Guess who’s been doing the distracting.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, pretending to look innocent. You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. The cramps were still gnawing at your lower back, and the sweat on your skin made you hyper aware of how close he was standing.

“What are you doing here anyway?” you asked, glancing around the cramped room. “Don’t tell me you dragged me in here just to sniff me like a dog.”

Jungkook huffed a laugh and finally stepped back a little, giving you some breathing room. He walked over to the corner of the room where a large, covered object sat on a workbench. He pulled the cover off. “One of the prototypes for my robotics module. The gear system keeps jamming and I needed a quiet space to take it apart and fix it before my next lab.”

You pushed off the wall, curious, walking over. On the table was a complex metallic assembly of aluminium parts, wires, and everything intricate gears. It looked impressive, even to someone who didn’t understand any of it.

You raised an eyebrow. “You built this?”

“Most of it,” he said, picking up a small tool. “Still tweaking it.”

You leaned in closer, genuinely interested now. “Can I see how it works?”

Jungkook lifted his head, staring at you for a second like he wasn’t expecting that. Then he nodded, carefully turning the module, demonstrating how the mechanism was supposed to move. His long fingers moved, pointing out where the gears kept catching and what he was trying to adjust. You watched, quietly impressed.

You sometimes forgot how smart he actually was.

Jungkook had a reputation on campus long before you ever really knew him. you’d heard his name whispered in engineering circles mostly, one of the top students in the entire department. Gifted. Quietly brilliant. A few professors had written glowing comments about him in recommendation letters and project reviews that somehow always made their way around, yet he never bragged about any of it. Kept to himself most of the time, which is probably why half the girls on campus weren’t losing their minds over him.

Or maybe they were, and you just didn’t know about it.

The thought made something bitter twist in your chest. You really needed to start marking your territory.

“Nerd,” you muttered under your breath, even when your eyes had completely betrayed you, glued to his hands as they moved over the metal module. The way his veins stood out when he flexed his fingers with every small adjustment, the slight bulge of his biceps beneath his sleeves. Oh god.

Jungkook must have felt the weight of your stare as he eventually paused, turning his head to look at you. His dark eyes scanned your face for a second, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, cocking a brow.

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. For a moment you considered lying, but the words slipped out anyway. “You have nice hands.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly caught off guard, before his smirk deepened into something more dangerous.

“Nice hands,” he repeated, almost testing the words. He straightened up slowly, turning fully toward you. “That’s what’s got you so quiet?”

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of how small the room was and how close he was standing. He took a step forward, backing you gently against the edge of the workbench.

One of those “nice hands” came up, bracing beside you as he leaned in, caging you in without even touching you.

“I was just making an observation,” you muttered, gripping the edge of the workbench behind you. “That you have nice hands… for a nerd.”

You leaned back as he leaned in, heart racing from the sudden proximity. The scent of his warm skin, faint cologne, and that stupidly comforting smell that was just entirely him, filled the small space and made your brain feel fuzzy.

“For a nerd?” Jungkook repeated, pulling back just enough to glance down at his own hands with a raised brow, as if seeing them for the first time.

You took a slow, shaky breath, eyes helplessly following the long veins on the back of his hands, the way his fingers flexed. God, you really shouldn’t be thinking about how those fingers would feel wrapped around your throat… or buried deep inside you right now.

“Mhm,” you replied, barely coherent. Quickly trying to regain your composure, you cleared your throat, looking away from his hands in the same breath. “It’s a shame they’re wasted on someone like you.”

“Oh?” the single syllable left his mouth. Before you could say anything else, Jungkook’s hands slid down to the backs of your thighs. In one smooth, effortless motion, he lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the workbench. You let out a small surprised sound as he stepped between your spread legs, settling right there like he belonged.

The new position put you at eye level with him. “What are you doing?” you nervously piped, placing your palms flat against his chest.

Frankly, you would’ve loved this proximity any other day. But right now you felt extremely tacky and damp from your period, sweaty in all the wrong places, and hyper aware of it. Still, your pulse quickened anyway, thighs trying to close around him even as you told yourself to push him away.

Jungkook continued to look at you, one hand still resting on your thigh while the other came up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m gross right now,” you whispered, embarrassed. “Really sweaty… I told you not to...”

He cut you off by leaning in even closer, nose brushing along your temple, then down the side of your neck. He inhaled slowly. “You keep saying that,” he said against your skin, rough. “but you smell fucking addictive to me.”

“Jungkook…”

He pulled back just enough to look at you again, a dangerous little smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” he asked innocently, even as his hand slid higher up your thigh. “I’m just appreciating my birthday present.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat when his other hand slipped under the hem of your top. Slowly, he pushed the fabric upward, bunching it higher and higher until cool air kissed your stomach and the underside of your bra.

Your face burned. You tried to tug your top back down, but his grip was firm, unyielding.

“You’re actually unbelievable,” you muttered, glaring at him even as a shiver ran down your spine. “I tell you I’m sweaty and on my period and your solution is to take my clothes off?”

“You think a little sweat is gonna stop me?” He leaned in closer, lips brushing the corner of your jaw as he spoke. “I’ve had my face buried between your legs when you were way messier than this, princess. You really think I give a fuck right now?”

Your cheeks burned. You swatted his chest, heart racing.

“I’m being serious,” you said, trying to sound firm even as your voice wavered. “I don’t like how tacky I feel right now. If you were all sweaty and gross, I wouldn’t want you all over me either.”

Jungkook pulled back slightly, one eyebrow raised. “I think I can live with that,” he said, clearly not believing a word you just said, calling bullshit. You both knew it wasn’t true and that you loved it when he was sweaty, when he smelled like sex and undoubtedly him.

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckled softly, but didn’t push it further. Instead, his hands stayed on your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles like he was grounding you.

You glanced toward the door, suddenly remembering reality. “I still have a stack of flyers to hand out. Lina’s going to kill me if I don’t get them done today.”

Jungkook hummed, glancing over at his half disassembled module on the workbench.

“And I need to fix this before my next lab session,” he muttered.

You looked at the intricate metal parts again and felt a small, genuine smile tug at your lips. “It’s actually really cool, by the way,” you said quietly. “What you’re building.”

Jungkook froze for a second, then scratched the back of his neck, looking almost… shy? It was such a rare sight on him that it made your chest feel warm.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice a little rougher than usual.

You nodded. “Yeah. Nerd.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. For a moment, the tension between you dissolved into something lighter, almost sweet. Then he leaned in again, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead.

“Go hand out your flyers, president,” he murmured against your skin. “Before I change my mind and keep you in here.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you rolled your eyes, gently pushing at his chest so you could slide off the workbench.

Jungkook leaned back against the table, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a lazy smirk. “Why?” he asked, tilting his head. “Is that title only convenient when you want to boss people around?”

You shot him a glare as you adjusted your sweatpants, trying to ignore how aware you still were of your sweaty skin and the dull cramps in your lower belly. “It’s different when you say it,” you grumbled. “It sounds mocking.”

Jungkook’s smirk softened just a fraction. He tilted his head, watching you. “Well, it isn’t meant to sound mocking,” he said, at last.

You narrowed your eyes at him, still flushed. “It better not be. The last thing I can handle right now is not being taken seriously.”

Jungkook studied you for a moment, before he gave a small nod.

You hesitated, then added, casually, “There’s this spring formal we’re planning. another big charity thing. That’s what all these flyers are for.” You glanced down at the stack in your hand. “I’m staying late today for rehearsals and setup. It’s going to be a long night.”

You looked back up at him, trying to keep your expression neutral even though your heartbeat betrayed you.

“…You coming?”

Jungkook looked at you with a complicated stare that always made you feel like he was weighing something in his head. After a long pause, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“I’ll think about it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small, stupid smile tugged at your lips anyway. You pushed off the workbench, heart racing as you headed for the door.

“Whatever. Don’t show up then,” you said lightly, but there was a playful lilt in your voice. You glanced back at him once before slipping out. “Nerd.”

The door clicked shut behind you, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling like an idiot the entire way down the hall.

You were barely ten steps out of the library annex when you spotted... Jimin?

He stood near the wide stone steps, a small crowd had already gathered around him; a few girls, some guys trying to act casual while clearly impressed. It wasn’t surprising. Jimin clearly had that effect on people with his platinum blonde hair, tailored cream colored knit sweater that probably cost more than most students’ monthly rent, layered over a crisp beige shirt.

He was mid conversation, smiling that charming, disarming smile of his, when he suddenly turned his head. The moment his eyes landed on you, his whole face lit up.

“Y/n!” he called out, already stepping away from the group without a second glance.

You didn’t even think. You rushed toward him, flyers crinkling in your arms, and practically threw yourself into his hug. Jimin laughed brightly, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rocking you side to side like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“Hi, cupcake,” he said warmly, pulling back to look at you. “You look like you’re having a day.”

“You have no idea,” you groaned, still holding onto his arms. “What are you even doing here?”

Jimin grinned and playfully pinched your nose. You swatted his hand away immediately, though a small laugh escaped you as the two of you started walking side by side.

“I can’t come visit you?” he teased, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “I thought you’d left by now.”

“Well, I am leaving in a few days, to be exact,” he said, pulling you a little closer. “I thought I’d come say goodbye in person.”

“Goodbye? Here? Of all places?”

Jimin shrugged, his expensive cologne subtly wafting around you. “Figured we could talk. After how abruptly you got pulled away from me during the gala…”

You winced at the memory. That night still left a sour taste in your mouth. Jungkook dragging you out without much explanation, leaving you no chance to even say a proper goodbye to Jimin.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” you said quietly.

Jimin waved it off with a casual flick of his hand, but his eyes were sharp.

“Jungkook was just—”

“Being a jealous boyfriend?” he finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

You nearly flinched at the word. Boyfriend. To Jimin, and most people who knew you two from the outside, Jungkook was still your boyfriend. You hadn’t corrected the narrative yet. You weren’t even sure how to.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, forcing a small smile. “Something like that.”

Jimin let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin.

“Should’ve seen his face when he first walked in,” he said, clearly amused at the memory. “Had it imprinted in my head for the rest of the night. Shit, he was pissed I took his girl for even five minutes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with one hand as the two of you kept walking.

“Where is he anyway?” Jimin asked, glancing around casually. “I’m a little hurt he rejected my handshake last time. Thought we were cool.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “He’s probably off somewhere being… Jungkook.”

Jimin hummed, his arm still loosely draped around your shoulders. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “But I do feel like making him jealous again.”

“Please don’t—” you said quickly, shaking your head, laughing, half serious.

Jimin just gave you a teasing glance, clearly enjoying himself way too much.

“What’s up with all these flyers?” he asked, plucking one from the stack in your arms and scanning it. “Spring Formal? Since when are you planning events again?”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the stack against your chest. “It’s this stupid formal we have in two days. Everything’s been so last minute because I’ve been… distracted for a while.”

Jimin raised a perfectly groomed brow, his expression shifting from playful to mildly disapproving in that signature perfectionist way of his.

“Distracted,” he repeated, tone dry. “You’re the president of your sorority, Y/n. You’re supposed to be the one keeping everything together, not the one disappearing while things fall apart.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I know. I’ve just had a lot going on.”

Jimin hummed, clearly unimpressed, but didn’t push too hard. Instead, he took half the stack of flyers from your hands without asking.

“Well, since I’m here…” He flashed a charming smile at a group of girls walking by and smoothly handed them flyers, saying something that made them laugh and blush within seconds. “Here you go, ladies. Come support the cause. Bring your friends. I might even be there.”

You watched in annoyed disbelief as the girls eagerly took the flyers, giggling and whispering to each other as they walked away.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered. “I’ve been handing these out for twenty minutes and barely got ten people to take one. You show up looking like a runaway prince and suddenly everyone wants one.”

Jimin grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “What can I say? Being charismatic is kind of my brand.”

You elbowed him lightly. “Show-off.”

He laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders again as you both continued walking.

“So,” you said after a moment, glancing up at him. “Are you going to be there? If you don’t leave for the Poconos already.”

Jimin looked down at you, his expression softening just a bit.

“For you? I’ll think about it.”

You continued walking side by side across the main quad, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the grass. For a few minutes, everything felt lighter. Then you noticed the shift in Jimin’s face, the easy smile fading as his brows pulled together slightly as though something heavy had settled in his mind.

He stayed quiet for a few more steps before speaking.

“Hey… random question,” he started, voice lower now. “Do Seo-hwa and your father speak to each other anymore?”

You stopped walking.

The casual peace drained from your face instantly. The question felt so abrupt, so out of place, that it took you a second to even process it.

“…No,” you said slowly, confusion thick in your voice. “They don’t have a reason to. Not after the divorce.”

Jimin’s jaw tightened. He looked away for a second, then back at you, his usual playful energy completely gone.

“You’re reason enough for them to talk.”

You stared at him, heart picking up speed for an entirely different reason now. “What are you talking about, Jimin?”

He exhaled through his nose, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear before continuing.

“I heard some things. Just… keep your eyes open, okay? Especially with everything going on with the sorority and that formal. If anything feels off, tell me.”

You searched his face, unease crawling up your spine.

“Jimin,” you pressed, voice quieter. “What did you hear?”

He hesitated, glancing around once more before speaking.

“Look, I know it’s not my place since you didn’t let me in on much, but… I overheard Seo-hwa on the phone with your father. It was the night after the gala. I only realized it was him because of how formal she sounded. the way she addressed him. Cold and business-like.”

He paused, watching your reaction.

“None of it seemed to be about you. That’s what felt off. She was pushing him to come back from overseas sooner than planned. Something about timing and ‘tying up loose ends.’ I couldn’t hear everything, but… it didn’t sound like a normal co-parenting call. It felt off-putting.”

Your head tilted slightly as you listened, pieces slowly clicking into place while others scattered in the opposite direction.

That random morning call from your father, the one that came while Jungkook was still in your bed. The way he sounded almost too casual, asking how you were doing, after weeks of complete silence. You’d assumed he somehow found out about Jungkook. But now?

Now you weren’t so sure.

Jimin noticed the shift in your expression and gently squeezed your shoulder.

“I’m not trying to freak you out,” he said carefully. “I just thought you should know. Your parents don’t talk… and suddenly they are? After years? It doesn’t feel right.”

You swallowed hard, staring at the stack of flyers in your hands without really seeing them.

“…Yeah,” you whispered. “It doesn’t.”

Jimin stayed quiet, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You let out a slow breath and continued.

“You’re right when you said it’s not your place to pry,” you told him, softer now. “Because it doesn’t really bother me in the way you think it might.”

Jimin immediately raised both hands in surrender, his expression apologetic.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I overstepped.”

He paused for a second, then added more gently, “I just thought I’d let you know. What if this situation forces you back into all of that… with Yoona?”

“No, it won’t,” you said firmly. “I can assure you that. My dad wouldn’t involve me in any of this, especially when it involves Mom. So you don’t have to worry.”

Jimin nodded, though he still looked a little unconvinced. After a second, he gave a small, rueful smile.

“Right. I’m just saying… I’m here for anything. If not, Jungkook’s there for you. I’m sure he can be of more help than I’ll ever be.”

The words made you feel a sharp pang of guilt. You stopped walking and turned to face him fully.

“I’m sorry, Jimin,” you said quietly, sincere. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Of course I’ll need you. You’re probably the only friend I have right now that I can actually trust.”

Jimin’s eyes softened. He reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, his touch warm and familiar.

“I know,” he said, voice kind. “I’m not mad. I just… don’t want you to be alone with all of this.”

“Yeah, I get that. Thank you,” you replied softly, offering him a small but genuine smile.

But what Jimin didn’t know was that you were already aware your parents talked every once in a while. Mostly business. Rarely about you. It used to bother you a lot more when you were younger. The last time you’d known about it was last halloween — the night you’d first approached Jungkook, only to be interrupted by your father’s call, ranting about your mother’s arrogance and negligence.

You pushed the memory aside.

“Actually… I’m going to stay a little late tonight,” you told him, shifting the flyers in your arms. “We have rehearsals for the formal. Do you want to come?”

Jimin’s face lit up for a second before regret settled in. “I’d love to. And I’d love to formally meet Jungkook this time, totally.” He gave you a teasing look. “But unfortunately I have a photoshoot at that exact hour. Can’t reschedule it.”

You nodded, trying not to show your slight disappointment. “That’s okay. Work is work.”

Jimin studied you for a moment, then gently bumped your shoulder with his.

“I’ll make it up to you. Dinner soon? Just us. No boyfriends, no parents, no drama. Deal?”

You smiled, leaning into him for a second.

“Deal.”

The rehearsal hall was pure chaos.

Chairs were scattered everywhere, half the string lights were still in boxes. You stood near the front with a clipboard, trying your best to direct people, but it felt like shouting into a void. Lina was right beside you, equally frazzled, her quite sharp demeanor cracking under the pressure.

“Girls, please— the tables need to go along the left wall, not the center!” you called out, voice straining.

A few of them glanced at you before continuing their conversations. Someone even laughed at something on their phone. You clenched your jaw.

Lina shot you a look, wiping sweat from her forehead. “This is what happens when the president disappears for weeks,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no real venom in it, just exhaustion.

You grit your teeth, aggressively flipping through the pages on your clipboard. “I did not disappear for weeks, Lina,” you snapped, keeping your voice low. “I don’t expect you to understand, but sadly, we’re in this mess together. So I’d rather we not fight it out right now.”

Lina opened her mouth, but you continued, louder this time so the girls nearby could hear.

“It’s not like I left any of you behind. I’m still here. And so far, it seems like I’m the only serious person in this room.”

Your voice carried across the hall. A few girls stopped talking and turned toward you. The chatter quieted just enough for you to feel a small sense of control again.

You exhaled and moved toward the stage area, spotting one of the tech guys fiddling with the microphones.

“Hey, Mark,” you called, walking up to him. “Last time we used this stage, half the mics cut out during the program. Please tell me that’s not going to happen again. We have important guests coming.”

Mark scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Yeah, we’re on it. I swapped out the faulty ones this morning. Should be fine this time.”

You nodded, but your eyes kept drifting, until you spotted Jungkook, leaning against the wall near the entrance, talking with a small group of guys. Minho was there too, lounging in one of the chairs.

Your heart did a stupid little flip when your eyes landed on Jungkook. You’d asked him to come, and he actually showed up.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips.

You tried to focus on Mark again, nodding along to whatever he was saying about sound checks, but your gaze kept wandering back to Jungkook. He hadn’t noticed you yet. Or at least, it didn’t seem like it.

After a few more instructions, you walked back toward Lina, who was scribbling something on her own clipboard with a tense expression. She glanced up at you, then subtly nodded toward the back of the hall where the guys were.

“Okay, I’ve got Mark to swap out the faulty mics,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady and professional. “They should be good for the run through.”

Lina nodded, but her expression stayed tense. She lowered her voice even more. “That’s good, but… can we talk about something else for a second?”

You followed her gaze again. Jungkook was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed, talking to Minho and a couple of other guys. He hadn’t looked your way yet.

Lina exhaled. “I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors lately. About you.”

“Lina, I don’t care about any of that right now,” you said, voice flat as you flipped through your clipboard again.

Lina looked like she wanted to push, but you continued before she could.

“Honestly, when hasn’t there been rumors about me?” You let out a tired, bitter laugh. “At this point it’s basically a campus tradition. Let them talk.”

Lina exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding this in for a while. “No, but… a lot of things sort of came out recently.”

You paused, turning to look at her fully. “What do you mean?”

She glanced around quickly, then grabbed your wrist and pulled you further to the side, behind one of the tall stage curtains where it was quieter.

Lina lowered her voice, almost hesitant. “I’m only telling you because I think it’s about time you know.”

She breathed in deeply before continuing. “A couple weeks ago, some seniors got Minho drunk at an afterparty. A lot of them... guys he knows from around campus. They were prying about your breakup, asking all these questions. One of them… he was really interested in you. Kept pushing Minho for details, like why it ended, what you were like, stuff like that.”

Your stomach twisted. Lina continued, her voice firm. “Minho was wasted. And he started talking. He said you’re not the type of girl who sticks around. That you sleep around a lot.”

She paused, clearly uncomfortable. “He called you… kind of a whore. Said it was never going to last between you two anyway.”

Lina quickly tried to soften the blow, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think he meant any of it. It was probably just an attempt to get the seniors off your back…” She hesitated, then added even quieter, “Kind of made me realise he might still be in love with you--”

“No. Don’t.” Your voice came out sharp, cutting her off instantly. “He called me a whore, Lina.”

The word felt disgusting in your mouth. You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into the clipboard so hard the plastic creaked.

Lina looked guilty, shifting on her feet. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even said that last part.”

Your mind was spinning, replaying every interaction you’d had with Minho since the breakup, trying to understand how someone who once claimed to care about you could say something like that so casually. The humiliation burned deep enough to make you feel exposed. Dirty. Everyone in this hall was secretly whispering about you, judging you, laughing at the idea of the “perfect” sorority president being nothing more than easy.

Lina watched your face, her expression softening with guilt. “I don’t think it’s true. At all. But… those guys talked. And now it’s going around campus. A lot of the girls have heard it too.”

You stayed silent for a long second, trying to process everything. “…When did this happen exactly?” you asked, voice strangely calm.

Lina shrugged, looking a little lost. “I’m not sure. Maybe a week or two before? I only heard about it a few days ago. The timeline’s fuzzy.”

“I didn’t defend you when I heard them talking,” she admitted quietly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something, but… I didn’t know how to without making it worse.”

You didn’t respond to any of it, just stared at the floor, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders. Lina shifted awkwardly beside you.

“It’s okay, Lina,” you finally said, voice surprisingly steady. “Thank you for telling me.”

She studied your face, concern clear in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

You placed your clipboard down on a nearby table, suddenly too tired to keep holding it. “Yeah, I am,” you lied, forcing a small smile. “I’m just on my period and everything sucks right now. But… I’ll be fine.”

Lina looked like she wanted to say more, but she just nodded.

You excused yourself quickly, weaving through the chaotic hall toward the restroom near the back entrance. The second the door closed behind you, the noise from rehearsal dulled into a low hum.

You leaned against the sink counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your face looked flushed, eyes tired, hair slightly messy from the long day.

He called you a whore.

The words kept repeating in your head.

You knew Minho. He was stupidly reckless when he was drunk, and prone to saying out of pocket shit to look cool in front of his friends. But this crossed a line. Even for him. The fact that he’d paint you as someone who just sleeps around, it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You gripped the edge of the sink, breathing slowly.

Part of you wanted to march over to him right now and demand answers. Another part of you just felt exhausted. Empty.

You splashed some cold water on your face, staring at your reflection for a long moment. The hurt was still there, sharp and ugly, but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. Not fully. Not yet.

Right now, you just wanted to feel something else.

You dried your face and left the restroom, the noise of the rehearsal hall crashing back over you. Instead of heading straight back to the main area, you turned toward the side corridor that led to the equipment storage where they kept all the instruments, amps, and extra stage gear.

That’s when you saw Jungkook, who had wandered away from Minho and the rest of the guys. He was leaning against the wall near the storage entrance, scrolling through his phone, looking completely detached from everything happening around him.

Something in your chest loosened just at the sight of him.

Without thinking, you walked straight up to him. He looked up right as you reached him. Before he could say anything, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the dimly lit storage room, closing the door behind you.

You leaned back against the door, breathing a little harder, heart still racing from everything Lina had told you. The moment your eyes landed on Jungkook in the dim storage room, something in your chest loosened and tightened all at once.

He looked confused, brows slightly furrowed as he stood there, hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you said shyly, almost whispering.

“Hi,” he replied, voice flat.

For a second, you just looked at him, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark hair fell slightly messy over his forehead, those intense eyes that always seemed to see too much. Your gaze dropped to his lips.

God, how long had it been since he’d actually kissed you? Not the heated, rushed kind you usually shared, but a real kiss. The kind that made your knees weak and your thoughts disappear.

You wanted that right now. You wanted him to pull you in and make everything else fade away.

“Jungkook…” you whispered, voice soft. “I think I want you to kiss me.”

He didn’t move at first. Then he stepped closer.

You instinctively pressed yourself back against the wall as he crowded you, one hand coming up to rest beside your head. He was so close now that you had to tilt your head up to look at him. The tension was suffocating. completely different from the playful warmth he’d given you this morning.

His eyes bored straight into yours, and that’s when you noticed it. there was no softness there anymore. No sleepy affection. Just a cold, intense stare that sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost… angry. Or disappointed. Or something worse. You couldn’t quite read it, and that scared you more than anything.

You felt small under that gaze. Exposed.

“You don’t have to… if you don’t want to,” you stuttered, suddenly nervous, fingers twitching at your sides.

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. He leaned in even closer, his breath brushing your lips, but he still didn’t kiss you. Instead, his fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up firmly so you couldn’t look away. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was unyielding. His thumb pressed against your jaw as he stared down at you, searching your eyes like he was looking for something he no longer trusted.

“No,” he said roughly. “I’ll kiss you.”

“But first,” he murmured, voice dangerously quiet, “tell me what the fuck we’re doing, y/n.”

Your breath caught.

“I… I didn’t think...” Your voice cracked. You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “We were fine, Jungkook. You were smiling at me earlier. We had a great time. You held me like you didn’t want to let go. Why are you doing this now?”

“Because I’m fucking tired,” he growled, low and rough. “You drag me in here like you need me… like I’m the only one who can make you feel better.” His thumb pressed harder against your lip. “But you still won’t call this anything. You still won’t admit what this is.”

You flinched, eyes stinging. The shift in him was brutal. This wasn’t the Jungkook from morning who had traced lazy circles on your back. This was something deeper, something that had clearly been festering. The cold, distant version that always kept you guessing. the one that made you question everything.

“I didn’t mean—” you breathed, voice breaking. He leaned in closer, forehead nearly touching yours, eyes burning with cold anger.

“Tell me,” he continued, voice dropping even lower, almost venomous, “am I just convenient for you? Someone to fuck and run to when shit gets hard? When Minho fucks you over and the rumors start flying, I’m the one you come crawling to?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes stinging.

The words hit like a slap. Your vision blurred as tears threatened to spill. First Minho calling you a whore behind your back… and now this. Jungkook, the one person you’d started to lean on, cornering you with the same cold suspicion.

“Oh… You know about the rumours,” a bitter chuckle escaped you as you continued, “Of course you do. Sometimes I forget you’re still Minho’s plus-one.”

You swallowed hard. “What’s different about you? Just go ahead and call me a whore too then.”

His eyes narrowed at your bitter chuckle, but the moment the word “whore” left your lips, his expression shifted, the raw anger flickered with confusion. His grip on your hip loosened slightly as he pulled back just enough to really look at you.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he muttered, voice still low but now edged with bewilderment. His brows furrowed deeply. “Why the hell would you call yourself that?”

You tried to look away, but he caught your chin again, forcing your gaze back to his.

“No. Don’t dodge me. Why did you say that, Y/n?” His thumb brushed your jaw almost gently this time, the confusion cutting through some of the venom in his tone. “I never called you anything like that. Not once. Where is this coming from?”

You breathed hard, chest rising and falling rapidly against his. Your mind was spinning.

Should you tell him? What if he doesn’t believe you? He’s known Minho for so much longer. they’re always together. How different is Jungkook from Minho anyway?

The fear made your throat tight. You could feel the heat of Jungkook’s scent surrounding you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to read every secret you were hiding.

You shook your head slightly, avoiding his intense gaze.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you whispered, frustrated. “I already know that’s what you, and everybody else thinks of me so—”

Jungkook’s grip on your jaw tightened instantly, forcing your eyes back to his. His brows were drawn together in a mixture of confusion and rising frustration.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he growled roughly, “I just told you I’ve never thought of you like that. Why are you putting words in my mouth?”

You breathed hard, chest rising and falling rapidly against his. “Jungkook. Quit it. Quit the act.” Your voice shook even as you tried to sound firm. “There’s nothing else you could’ve meant from telling me I crawl to you only when it’s convenient for me, other than meaning exactly that.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened. He stared at you for a long, heavy second, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle ticking. Then he leaned in closer, lips hovering just above yours, so close you could almost taste him. His hand slid from your chin to the side of your neck, holding you there firmly, possessive.

“So tell me I’m wrong then,” he whispered harshly, breath hot against your mouth. “Tell me this isn’t just convenient for you.”

His thumb pressed lightly against your racing pulse. “Tell me that when you come to me shaking and desperate, it’s not just because I’m good at making you cum.” He pressed his body flush against yours, hard and unyielding, making you feel every inch of him.

He looked like he was one second away from walking out. Or kissing you. Or destroying you.

And you had no idea which one it would be.

Jungkook leaned in, dark eyes burning yours. “Or finally admit what the fuck we are, y/n…” His breath trembled against your lips. “Because I’m one second away from losing my fucking mind over you.”

He was completely out. a deep, heavy sleeper, it turned out. Though every now and then you swore you felt him shift with awareness; some part of him still alert even in sleep. Right now, though, he was dead to the world, face buried comfortably between your breasts, one strong arm slung across your waist, his big body half draped over yours.

You let out a quiet sigh and gave up on waking him for the moment. Instead, your fingers moved slowly through his soft dark hair, ruffling it gently before wrapping your arm around his head, holding him closer. He was so large against you. Broad shoulders, long limbs, heavy warmth that it still felt surreal.

A man was sleeping in your bed. Not just any man. Jungkook. In your pristine, perfectly curated space that had never known another person like this.

And it was already his birthday.

You hadn’t slept more than twenty minutes at a time since the realization hit you hours ago. You’d been counting down the minutes in the dark, staring at the ceiling while he switched positions restlessly... back hugging you, then pulling you on top of him, and eventually settling with his face nuzzled warmly against your chest.

You still didn’t know what to do.

A gift? Breakfast? Wake him up with kisses? Pretend you didn’t know? The thought of doing something too thoughtful felt dangerous. too couple-y. And way too serious for whatever this messy, undefined long-term thing between you was.

But ignoring it completely felt worse.

You glanced down at him again. His breath was slow and soft against your skin, lips slightly parted. He looked softer like this... younger, almost. The usual sharpness in his face had melted away in sleep.

You ran your fingers through his hair once more, slower this time. “Happy birthday, you pain in the ass,” you whispered under your breath, so quietly you barely heard it yourself.

Jungkook didn’t stir.

Midnight seemed to stretch on forever, and no matter how hard you tried, sleep refused to come. You stayed like that for a while longer, arm wrapped around his big frame, fingers idly playing with his hair, before carefully trying to peel him off you.

It took effort. Jungkook was heavy and annoyingly clingy even in sleep. You moved slowly, lifting his arm and sliding out from underneath him. He made a low, discontented sound, face scrunching for a moment before relaxing again. You held your breath until you were sure he wouldn’t wake.

Quietly, you slipped out of bed and slid your feet into your soft cream slippers, fumbling for your charger. The penthouse was still dark, only the earliest hints of dawn filtering through the tall arched windows.

You don’t really know’ birthdays unless they’re yours. People might call you selfish for it, maybe even self-centered, but there’s rarely a memorable person whose birthday actually stuck with you.

Jungkook isn’t a memorable person. you immediately scratched that thought. He just… happens to be here. And you happen to know it’s his birthday. So the most logical, least complicated thing you could do was wish him.

The moment you climbed back onto the bed, Jungkook stirred. His arm reached out instantly, wrapping around your waist with a sleepy grunt and pulling you back toward him. You had to push gently at his shoulder again, swinging your leg over until you were straddling his waist.

He was half awake now, eyes barely cracked open, heavy with sleep. His hands settled lazily on your thighs as he blinked up at you, still groggy. You quietly plugged your phone in while Jungkook was busy brushing your hair out of your face with slow, clumsy fingers.

“…What are you doing up?” he asked, voice deep and raspy, squeezing your thighs absentmindedly.

Your heart clenched at how messy his hair looked and how groggy his voice was.

“I don’t know…” you said, fighting back a smile when he scrunched his brows in confusion. You leaned down a little closer, resting your hands on his chest. “Guess what day it is.”

He cracked one eye open properly, looking mildly suspicious. “…Tuesday?”

You let out a soft scoff. “Wrong. Try again.”

“Wednesday?”

“Cold.”

He sighed, clearly too sleepy for this. “Just tell me.”

You stared at him, waiting. When he genuinely seemed lost, you raised your brows. “Jungkook… it’s your birthday.”

He blinked slowly. Then frowned. “…It is?”

The pure confusion on his face made you sit up straighter, genuinely shocked. “You don’t remember your own birthday?” you asked, eyes wide. “Like… at all?”

Jungkook shrugged one shoulder, still looking half asleep. “Lost track of time. Days all feel the same lately.”

You stared at him, completely thrown off. Birthdays had always been big, extravagant, and elaborate events in your world, planned months in advance. Forgetting your own birthday felt ridiculous.

“Birthdays are special,” you emphasised after peeking at his stoic expression.

“Yeah?” He hummed, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he squeezed your thighs again. “Special how?”

“My birthday is special,” you continued, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’d never forget it. Ever.”

Jungkook let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and raspy in the quiet morning light. He looked genuinely amused by your shock, his hands sliding up to rest on your waist.

“Relax, princess,” he murmured, eyes drifting shut again even as he smiled. “Not everyone throws themselves a gala on their birthday.”

You lightly smacked his chest. “I do not throw myself galas.”

He peeked one eye open. “You kind of do.”

You let out a sigh but couldn’t fight the small smile pulling at your lips. Even half asleep and messy, he was annoying. And somehow still unfairly attractive.

His words, however, tugged at a memory.

Last year, your father had thrown you one of his signature over-the-top galas right before he left for that extended overseas project. Being his only daughter, he treated your birthday like another business opportunity to show off his perfect little trophy. The entire night was excessive, and there were too many wealthy strangers pressing cheques into your hand with plastic smiles instead of actual gifts.

Your mother had done her part at exactly midnight: a short text and a pair of ridiculously expensive heels she’d definitely already worn herself to some other event. She hadn’t come in person, of course. She never did.

Minho had been there, still new as your boyfriend, still trying to figure out how to fit into your world. And wherever Minho went, Jungkook followed.

You were standing beside Minho, smiling politely at yet another guest who had just handed you an envelope with a generous check, when you felt that familiar prickle on the back of your neck. You turned your head slightly and there he was. Jungkook.

Leaning against a marble pillar across the room, drink in hand, dressed in all black like he was attending a funeral instead of a birthday gala. His eyes were already on you. and the second your gazes met, that same unbearable tension you’d been trying to bury flared up instantly.

It was still early in whatever this hateful tension between you two was. You couldn’t even glance at him when Minho was around without feeling sick with guilt and confusion. That night you’d almost hooked up with him haunted you constantly. The memory of his mouth, his hands… it made you feel dirty for jumping straight into a relationship with his best friend right after. So you avoided looking at him like your life depended on it.

“What’s he doing here?” you muttered under your breath to Minho, looking away.

Minho had barely glanced in Jungkook’s direction before scoffing lightly. “Since when do you have a problem with my best friend being here?” He slid his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against his side as though you were an accessory he needed to display. “Relax, babe. It’s your birthday. Smile.” he said, almost dismissive in a way that made something inside you bristle.

There was obviously no real concern in his voice, just mild irritation that you weren’t playing your part perfectly. You were his girlfriend. The trophy. You were supposed to look pretty and happy, not tense.

You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

A few minutes later, when Minho had gotten pulled into conversation with some other friends, you’d slipped away, heading straight toward the tall cake table where Jungkook was standing, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you asked sharply, keeping your voice low. “I didn’t invite you, that’s for sure.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a slow, lazy smirk as he looked down at you. “Your boyfriend did.”

“You’re not Minho's plus one,” you shot back. “You’re his shadow.”

He tilted his head, eyes dragging over you slowly, from the diamond necklace at your throat to the satin dress hugging your body. “You look nice,” he said, completely ignoring your jab. His gaze stayed fastened on you, unhurried.

“Nice?” you repeated, raising a brow. “I always look nice.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a sly smirk. He tilted his head slightly, watching you like you were the only person in the entire ballroom. “Yeah… you do,” he murmured, “Doesn’t mean I can’t say it.”

You quickly glanced around the crowded room, heart skipping as you checked if anyone was close enough to have heard him. Thankfully, the nearest guests were several feet away, laughing loudly over their champagne flutes.

“Where’s my birthday gift then?” you asked, ignoring his flirting entirely. “Since you crashed my party and all.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, swiped his finger across the edge of your extravagant birthday cake, and dabbed the frosting right onto the tip of your nose.

“Happy birthday,” he said, eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your shocked expression.

Jungkook’s hands squeezed your waist gently, pulling you out of the memory.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, voice still thick and raspy from sleep. His thumbs stroked slow circles on your skin as he studied your face.

You shook your head lightly and forced a small smile.

“Nothing,” you murmured. “Just thinking about how different this is from last year. My birthday.”

He hummed, eyes half lidded, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “You mean when you spent the whole night acting like I didn’t exist?”

“I was tolerating you. Barely.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Let me remind you, in case you forgot — you weren’t even invited.”

Jungkook shut his eyes again, humming like he was savoring the memory. “And you still found your way over to me by the cake.” he murmured, clearly pleased with himself.

“I was the birthday girl,” you shot back. “Of course I’d have to greet every single guest. Even the uninvited one who decided to show up and ruin my night.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and sleepy as his hands slid higher up your waist, pulling you a little closer. “Ruin your night?” he murmured, voice laced with amusement. “Strong choice of words. How so?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to back down even as his touch sent warmth spreading across your skin.

“You know exactly how,” you said, tilting your head. “You spent the entire night staring at me like you were daring me to do something stupid. Every time I turned around, there you were. Like you wanted me to slip up in front of everyone.”

Jungkook’s smirk turned sharper, more dangerous. “Slip up about what?” he asked, almost innocently.

You swallowed, heat crawling up your neck as the memory flashed through your mind, that specifc night weeks before your birthday gala, his head between your thighs, the way he’d torn your first real orgasm out of you like it was nothing. The way you’d shaken and gasped and realized you’d been faking it with everyone else, including Minho.

“My secret,” you whispered, eyes narrowing.

Jungkook’s gaze darkened with satisfaction. He knew exactly what you meant.

“Ah,” he murmured, lips curving with dark satisfaction. “You mean the one where the birthday girl came undone from a man’s tongue for the first time.”

“Shut up,” you hissed. But Jungkook wasn’t done. He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with wicked amusement.

“Tell me, princess, does Minho still think he’s the one who gets you there?” He pulled you in closer, “Or does he know you’ve been ruined for him ever since I had my mouth on you?”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, a sharp smile curling on your lips. “You tell me.” you shot back. “Does Minho also know you fuck his ex behind his back?”

Jungkook stared at you for a long second, the lazy smirk slowly returning. “Low blow,” he murmured as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “But you’re not denying it.”

You held his gaze, refusing to back down even as your heart hammered wildly.

“You know what I think?” you tilted your head with a sweet smile. “I think you should go back to sleep.”

You tried to shift off him, but his arms locked around you like steel bands, keeping you right where you were.

“I liked you a lot better when you were asleep,” you added, “At least then you weren’t talking.”

Jungkook let out a deep, amused chuckle. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling lightly in your hair as he tugged your head back just enough to look at you properly.

“Yeah?” he murmured, eyes dark and playful. “Too bad for you. I’m wide awake now.”

He flipped you suddenly, reversing your positions so you were pinned beneath him. His body covered yours, warm and heavy, as he hovered above you with a dangerous little smirk.

“And since we’re both awake…” he whispered, lips nearly brushing against yours, “I think it’s time I get my actual birthday present.”

You gasped, hands immediately flying up to press against his chest, stopping him from lowering himself fully onto you.

“Jungkook...” you breathed, eyes wide.

The reality of the situation hit you all at once.

A man was pinning you down in your bed. In your bedroom. The same room that had been your untouched sanctuary for years. The soft cream bedding, the plushies sitting innocently on the shelves and window seat, they were all watching. You suddenly felt the ridiculous urge to reach over and turn their faces away.

Thankfully, your phone started ringing on the nightstand, right on cue, the sharp sound cutting through the tension.

Jungkook startled slightly, giving you just enough space to slide your hand under the pillow and fumble for it. The second you saw the name on the screen, your stomach dropped.

“Fuck,” you hissed.

You shoved Jungkook hard in the chest. He stumbled back, stunned, landing on the bed beside you as you scrambled to sit up, heart hammering wildly.

“It’s... my dad,” you whispered frantically, staring at the vibrating phone like it was a live grenade.

Jungkook propped himself up on one elbow, hair messy, expression shifting from playful to alert in a heartbeat. He watched you, silent, as your hands shook while holding the phone.

This couldn’t be good.

Your father hadn’t called you in nearly two weeks, and now of all days, when you’d risked everything by letting Jungkook stay the night, he suddenly decides to call? The timing felt too suspicious.

You swallowed hard and answered before it went to voicemail.

“…Hello?”

“Have I awoken you?” Your father’s voice came through, formal and clipped, the way he always carried himself.

“Hi Dad,” you said quickly, trying to sound normal. “No. No, you haven’t.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “What are you doing awake so early?”

You felt your stomach twist. His tone was already laced with suspicion, like he knew something was off.

“I… couldn’t sleep,” you replied, forcing your voice to stay steady. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ve called to ask you something.”

Your grip on the phone tightened. “What is it?”

Your father’s voice dropped slightly, becoming stricter. “I’ll be returning from overseas sooner than expected. There are matters I need to handle in person.” He paused. “I trust you’ve been keeping yourself out of trouble?”

You glanced at Jungkook, who was now sitting up fully beside you, watching your face with sharp, unreadable eyes.

“Yes,” you answered quickly. “Of course.”

Your father hummed, the sound low and unconvinced. “Good. Because I expect things to remain that way.”

There was a heavy pause before his voice dropped, “Is there something you have to tell me?”

You stuttered. “No?”

“Are you sure?” His tone sharpened. “Think carefully.”

You gripped the phone tighter, knuckles turning white. You knew this tone all too well. He knew something. He was giving you one last chance to come clean before he laid it all out, along with the consequences.

“I’m sure, dad,” you said, biting your lip hard as you waited.

Your father let out a long, disappointed sigh. “I heard you went to one of your mother’s galas.”

You nearly collapsed with relief. Oh thank god. He didn’t know about Jungkook. Anything was better than that.

“Oh… yeah,” you said, trying to keep your voice cool. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.”

“You should have,” he replied, softening just a fraction. “But it’s fine. As long as you had a decent time.”

He paused. “Did you meet your mother?”

You swallowed. “Yes.”

“How was she?” His voice carried a dangerous edge. he was testing you.

“Fine,” you replied, keeping your tone flat. “Same as always.”

“I see.” he caught it immediately. “She seems to be making an effort to fix things with you. I can tell.”

Right, you thought bitterly, fighting the urge to roll your eyes as memories of the gala flashed through your mind.

You desperately wanted to steer the conversation far away from her.

“When are you coming back, dad?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Do you have an actual date yet?”

Your father let out a low hum. “Why the sudden interest?” His tone sharpened, laced with suspicion. “You’re not hiding anything from me, are you?”

You stole a quick glance at Jungkook. He was still sitting beside you. The sight of him shirtless, in your bed, made your stomach twist with anxiety.

“Nothing at all,” you said quickly. “I’ve just been busy with university stuff. The sorority formal is in two days, so I’ve been caught up with rehearsals and everything.”

There was a long pause on the other end. You could practically feel him weighing your words.

“Hm. I see.” His voice was calm, but you knew that tone well. it was the calm before he decided whether or not to push harder. “Make sure you’re keeping your priorities straight. I don’t want to hear about any distractions.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I know. I’m handling it.”

“Good,” he said finally. “I’ll be back in the country by the end of this week. We’ll talk more then.”

“Okay. Safe travels.”

“Take care of yourself.”

The line went dead.

You slowly lowered the phone, staring at the blank screen for a second before letting out a long, shaky breath. You covered your face with both hands, trying to collect yourself.

“How much of that did you hear?” your voice was muffled.

You peeked out through two fingers.

Jungkook had sat up straight, the lazy, sleepy warmth from earlier completely gone.

“Everything,” he said quietly.

You lowered your hands completely, suddenly feeling exposed in your own bed. “He doesn’t know about you,” you added quickly, almost reassuringly. “And it’s best if he doesn't.”

Jungkook’s eyes stayed on you. “What’s the worst that would happen?” he asked. “If he knew?”

You shifted closer to him on the bed, placing your phone on the nightstand. “Well,” you started, a nervous giggle slipping out, “first of all, you’re not my boyfriend or anything.” you said it lightly, since it was obvious.

“And if you were…” You paused, thinking long and hard, biting the inside of your cheek. “I think he’d lose his mind. He’d probably have you investigated, then me, then he’d try to ship me off somewhere far away until I ‘came to my senses.’”

You let out another small, bitter laugh, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “He’s very controlling when it comes to… certain things. Especially people he thinks aren’t ‘suitable.’”

Jungkook stayed silent, watching you.

“Why do you think I’ve never had any boy over?” you continued, softer now. “Like… ever.”

You didn’t tell him the deeper truth; that you’d never formed a real enough connection with anyone to let them into your private space. Instead, you gave him the easier answer. “My dad’s just looking out for me. And apparently, who he deems perfect for me has a very specific checklist.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. “What’s the checklist?” he asked, clearly interested. “What kind of guy would your father approve of?”

You let out a small, tired laugh and leaned back against the headboard, thinking.

“I don’t know… someone driven, I guess. Someone who knows what he wants and actually works for it. Not just some rich trust fund kid coasting through life.”

You paused, describing traits without realizing it.

“He’d have to be strong,” you continued, your eyes unconsciously dragging along Jungkook’s bare torso, tracing the defined lines of his chest and shoulders. “Physically, yeah… Someone who doesn’t fold under pressure. Someone who can handle responsibility. Protective, maybe even a little intense.”

You paused, lost in thought.

“He has to be smart, too,” you continued, eyes still tracing Jungkook’s hands absentmindedly. “My dad loves someone who can actually challenge him. He graduated top of his class from one of the best math programs in the country — and if you’re bad at math, he basically thinks you’re beneath him. I’m horrible at it, so he’d rather die than watch me end up with someone just as clueless.”

You let out a small, self deprecating laugh. “The last time we talked about this, I remember my dad said something like… the day someone actually patient and calculated finds a way to handle someone as spoiled and stubborn as me, will be the day he can finally rest.”

You shook your head, chuckling softly at the memory, completely unaware of how perfectly you’d just described the man currently sitting in your bed.

“Anyway,” you muttered, trying to brush it off. “That’s what he thinks. He’s always had very… specific standards.”

You paused, then added with a teasing lilt, “And so far, no one’s reached there yet either.”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked up to yours, a slow spark of challenge in them. “Oh?” he said, voice low. “No one at all?”

You shrugged, biting back a smile as you shifted closer on the bed, until you swung one leg over and settled yourself on his lap, straddling his waist, drawn in by the tension humming between you.

“Nope. Not even close.”

Your shorts rode up slightly as you did, the soft fabric barely covering the tops of your thighs.

He didn’t stop you. His hands found your hips immediately, sliding down to rest on the bare skin just beneath the hem of your shorts. His palms were warm, fingers gently caressing the sensitive skin there, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles.

You lowered your head to his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you pressed closer. His fingers kept sliding higher, brushing along your inner thighs. You hissed softly at the contact, a warm rush flooding through you. Your sensitivity was heightened because of your period, and every subtle movement made heat pool low in your belly.

“Kook…” you breathed, voice shaky, placing your hand on top of his, stopping him just as his fingers inched further up, dangerously close to the curve of your bare ass beneath the shorts.

Jungkook paused immediately, but he didn’t pull away. He turned his head slightly, lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. “Too much?” he asked, though his fingers stayed right where they were, warm and tempting.

You nodded against his neck, breathing uneven. “Yeah… I’m really sensitive right now.”

Despite your words, Jungkook’s fingers inched higher anyway, tracing the soft skin of your inner thighs. Your legs twitched involuntarily at the contact, a sharp shiver running through you as heat pooled low in your belly.

“I know,” He hummed softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. “I can feel how warm you are.”

Your thighs pressed together instinctively around his hand, but it only trapped his fingers closer to where you were already aching and slick.

His fingers stilled on your inner thigh, warm and patient, as he pressed a slow kiss just below your ear. “Can you take two fingers, love?” he asked, low and husky against your skin. “I’ll be gentle.”

You shivered at the question. The thought of his fingers sliding inside you right now made your stomach flutter with both want and uncertainty. “I… I don’t know,” you whispered honestly, voice shaky. “It might be too much.”

“That’s okay…” Jungkook murmured, kissing the side of your neck softly. “We can stop.”

“No…” you whispered, voice shaky but desperate. “Don’t stop. Please.”

He paused, then let out a low, rough sound of approval against your skin.

“Turn over for me,” he said gently.

You did as he asked, rolling onto your side. Jungkook moved behind you, pressing his chest to your back, one strong arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

His hand slid down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts and panties. You were already soaked, more sensitive, and more intense.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he groaned softly, fingers gliding through your folds. “So sensitive for me, aren’t you?”

You whimpered as his fingers circled your clit, the lightest touch making your hips jerk. Everything felt amplified, every brush of his fingertips sent sparks shooting through you.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, condescending in the hottest way. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

He pushed one finger inside you slowly, then another. You gasped sharply, back arching as the stretch hit you. Your walls clenched around his fingers instantly, overly sensitive and fluttering.

“Shh, I know,” he cooed against your ear, curling his fingers just right. “Feels too much, doesn’t it? Poor thing… body’s so worked up.”

You moaned, pushing back against his hand as he started pumping slowly, deep and deliberate. Every thrust made your cramps ease and flare at the same time, pleasure and pressure mixing until you couldn’t tell which was which.

“Jungkook...” you whimpered, voice breaking.

“That’s it,” he praised, lips brushing your neck. “Taking my fingers so well even when you’re this sensitive. Such a good girl for me.”

He added a third finger, stretching you fuller, and you cried out, thighs shaking. The overstimulation hit fast, tears pricked your eyes as pleasure bordered on too much.

“Please...” you begged, voice wrecked. “Please, kook… I need you. Inside me. Please.”

He groaned, grinding his hard cock against your ass. “You sure?” he asked, voice strained. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care,” you gasped, pushing back against him desperately. “I want you. Please fuck me.”

Jungkook cursed under his breath. He pulled his fingers out, quickly shoving your shorts and panties down just enough. You felt the thick head of his cock press against your entrance, hot and heavy.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, groaning deeply as your tight, slick heat swallowed him.

You whimpered, fingers digging into the sheets. It had been a while, and he felt huge. the stretch burned even with how wet you were. Your walls pulsed around him, fluttering and clenching as he kept pressing forward until he bottomed out with a low, guttural sound.

“Too big…” You let out a broken whine, trembling as you tried to adjust to his size. “Kook, you’re so deep...”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. One arm wrapped around your waist, holding you flush against him as he stayed buried to the hilt. “But you’re taking it so well. Letting me stretch you open hm.”

He started thrusting slow, deep rolls of his hips that made your whole body jolt. Every stroke dragged against that perfect spot inside you, mixing the ache of your period with sharp, filthy pleasure.

You were a mess already. Sweating, whimpering, legs shaking as he fucked you from behind. Jungkook buried his face in your neck again, inhaling deeply like he couldn’t get enough of your scent.

The obscene sound of him sliding in and out of your soaked pussy filled the room. You moaned loudly, pushing back against him despite the overstimulation.

Gasping, tears slipped down your cheeks. “Jungkook, I’m... I’m gonna...”

Jungkook groaned, hips snapping forward again, burying himself to the hilt. “Mm, I know baby,” he rasped, voice dark and soothing all at once.

You tried to protest, but he thrust deep again before you could form words, punching the air out of your lungs. All that came out was a broken, needy moan.

He slowed for a moment, grinding deep instead of thrusting, letting you feel every inch of him.

“Tell me where it hurts,” he murmured against your ear, one hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your lower belly, right where you felt him the most. “Here?”

You nodded frantically, whimpering. But even as you struggled, your hips pushed back against him, chasing the overwhelming sensation.

Jungkook cursed under his breath, clearly fighting his own restraint.

“Missed this,” he groaned, voice rough. “Fuck, I missed this so much.”

He kept fucking you rough, deep thrusts mixed with slower, grinding ones, never letting you fully catch your breath. Every time you got close to the edge, he’d push you further, dragging it out until you were sobbing and babbling incoherently.

“Missed how fucking tight you get,” he rasped, pulling out slowly only to thrust back in harder. “Missed the way you clench around me like you don’t want me to stop… even when it’s too much for you.”

“Kook... please... it’s too much... can’t–”

“You can,” he whispered, pressing open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. “You’re doing so well for me. Just a little more, baby. Let me feel you pretty girl.”

Your mind went completely blank. All you could do was moan and tremble as he fucked you through the overwhelming waves of pleasure and pain, his cock hitting so deep it felt like he was reaching your womb with every thrust.

Finally, Jungkook’s rhythm faltered. His breathing grew ragged against your neck as he buried himself as deep as possible.

“Fuck...” he groaned. “Gonna cum inside you… fill you up.”

You whimpered desperately, pushing back against him. “Please... inside... please...”

With a deep, guttural moan, Jungkook thrust once, twice, then came hard, pulsing deep inside you. You felt every thick spurt as he flooded your womb, warm and endless. He held you tight against him, hips grinding slowly as he emptied himself completely, groaning your name against your skin.

You were shaking, overstimulated and full, tears slipping down your cheeks as the intensity finally began to ebb.

Jungkook stayed buried deep inside you, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder as you both came down. Both of you were breathing hard, skin slick with sweat, the room filled with the heavy scent of sex.

“Mmm… now my sheets are all dirty,” you complained, voice hoarse and tired, even as you intertwined your fingers with his where his hand rested on your stomach.

Jungkook let out a quiet laugh against your skin, the sound warm and fond. “Can’t help it,” he murmured, kissing the back of your neck. “You felt too good. Couldn’t stop myself from filling you up.”

You shivered at his words, cheeks burning even as a tiny, satisfied smile tugged at your lips. “You’re such a mess,” you whispered, scolding him.

“You okay? Not hurting too much?” His fingers gently stroked your lower belly, right where he was still buried deep.

You shook your head slightly, squeezing his hand. “It’s a lot… but it feels good too,” you admitted shyly. “Especially the cramps. They’re better now.”

Jungkook hummed softly, pressing another kiss to your shoulder as he stayed buried inside you for a few more moments, reluctant to pull away. Eventually, he slipped out slowly, both of you hissing at the loss. You winced as you felt the warm trickle between your thighs.

“We don’t have much time,” you said with a groan, already feeling the weight of the day returning. “I need to clean up… we both do. I have to go back to campus and deal with all my disappearances.”

Jungkook nodded, brushing your hair back from your face. “Ok. Shower?” he offered, already starting to sit up.

“No?” you said immediately as you sat up, pulling the sheet over your lap. “We’re not showering together. That’s… weird.”

“Oh?” Jungkook paused, then let out a low, amused chuckle. He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly entertained. “You let me fuck you while you’re on your period, dripping all over my cock… but showering together is where you draw the line?”

Your face burned. You grabbed a pillow and lightly smacked his arm with it. “Shut up! It’s different,” you mumbled, embarrassed. “Sex is one thing. Showering together...” feels too intimate — you refrain from admitting.

He grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes now.

“Alright, princess. You go first. I’ll wait.”

You nodded, legs a little shaky as you slid off the bed. The moment you stood, you winced, a mix of soreness, cramps, and the mess between your thighs making it hard to walk properly. Jungkook watched you with a small, fond smirk but didn’t comment.

You disappeared into the bathroom, and after you were done, he took his turn.

While he showered, you quickly stripped the sheets, cheeks burning as you balled them up and tossed them into the laundry hamper. You grabbed a fresh set from the closet, struggling a bit to remake the bed with your sore body.

Then your eyes landed on your plushies.

They were all still sitting on the shelves and window seat, innocently staring at the bed like judgmental little witnesses.

You groaned.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, walking over and turning each one around so they faced the wall. “Perverts.”

You were one second away from screaming.

The student center atrium felt suffocating, with all the unfamiliar faces brushing past you like you were invisible. After the long, tense meeting where you’d finally shown up, only to get quietly lectured by Lina the entire time about your absence... you’d volunteered to hand out the rest of the flyers yourself. It was your way of apologizing without having to say the words.

Your lower back throbbed, skin was sticky with sweat, and the stack of flyers in your hands felt heavier with every minute. You just needed a breather: two minutes. That’s all. But of course, there was no one around who actually knew you.

Until you caught movement near the old storage unit tucked beside the library annex.

A familiar figure leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets, watching you.

Your whole body sagged with relief. “Hey! I know you—” you started, already walking toward him.

Jungkook glanced once down the hallway, making sure no one was around, then grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside the cramped storage room without a word. The door clicked shut behind you, the lock turning with a soft snap.

You barely had time to react before your back hit the wall and Jungkook was right there, crowding you, one hand planted beside your head.

“What the hell, kook?!” you hissed, heart still racing from the sudden pull. “What are you even doing here?”

After everything that happened this morning, the way he’d had you pinned beneath him, the way he’d fucked you so deep... seeing him here, in public, felt dangerously risky. Your body was still sore and sensitive, a constant reminder of how thoroughly he’d taken you just hours ago.

He tilted his head, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he pressed you a little more firmly against the door. “Thought you were glad to see me?” His voice was teasing, but his eyes scanned your face carefully. “Looked like you were about to cry handing out those flyers.”

You let out a frustrated breath, shoulders slumping. The stress of the last hour, Lina’s lecture, the whispering sorority sisters, the cramps, all the sweat, was still buzzing under your skin. You were painfully aware of how gross you felt right now, standing in front of him in sweatpants, hair slightly messy.

“I… I wasn’t expecting you to show up here,” you admitted quietly, voice soft. “It’s risky. Someone could’ve seen you pull me in.”

Jungkook pulled back just enough to look at you properly, his eyes dropping to your legs.

“You’re wearing sweatpants?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed like he was trying to solve a puzzle. He’d only ever seen you in skirts, dresses, and heels. never this. But mainly, you’d left the penthouse this morning in a skirt. He knew that because he’d made it almost impossible for you to put it on, too busy pressing his mouth everywhere the skin of your inner thighs allowed. kissing, licking, sucking marks into the soft flesh until your legs were shaking and you’d barely been able to stand straight.

“I changed after first block. I was paranoid I’d stained my skirt.” You subtly pressed your hands against his chest, trying to create even an inch of space. “I’m sweating like crazy, and my period isn’t a joke. Can you not pin me against the wall right now? I probably stink.”

A slow, dangerous smirk pulled at Jungkook’s lips. “Really?” he asked, voice dripping with mischief. He knew exactly what he was about to do.

“No!” you protested, but clearly, it was too late.

He leaned in and buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply. Then he moved lower, nose brushing along your collarbone, the side of your arm, sniffing you up without an ounce of shame. The audacity of it made your eyes widen.

“Gross! You’re disgusting!” you squealed, half laughing as you tried to push his shoulders away. Breathy and uncontrollable giggles rolled out of you, despite how mortified you felt.

Jungkook just hummed against your skin, completely unbothered. “Fuck,” he rasped, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. “You smell so fucking good to me.”

You let out another helpless giggle, squirming in his hold while your hands weakly pushed at his chest. “You’re so weird...”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and playful, smirk still firmly in place. “What?” he asked innocently. “You said you were sweating. I was just checking.”

You still tried to keep some distance, glancing around the cramped storage unit, trying to figure out why he’d dragged you in here in the first place. But Jungkook ignored your wandering eyes completely. He leaned in again, caging you against the wall with both arms.

“Where’s my birthday kiss?” he asked, low and teasing.

You looked around the tiny room dramatically, pretending to search every dusty corner. “I don’t see it either,” you said sarcastically, eyebrows raised. “Must’ve gotten lost on the way here.”

Jungkook let out a deep chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing at you in a dangerously fond way.

“Oh, you’re being cute,” he murmured, one hand sliding down to grip your waist.

You gave him a deadpan look. “Think this is cute?” you said seriously. “I am far from being cute with you right now.”

He only grinned wider, clearly not believing you.

You sighed, shaking your head, leaning it back against the wall. “Lina just chewed me out. The sorority’s falling apart because I’ve been… distracted.” You looked up at him, a tired smile tugging at your lips. “Guess who’s been doing the distracting.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, pretending to look innocent. You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat behind it. The cramps were still gnawing at your lower back, and the sweat on your skin made you hyper aware of how close he was standing.

“What are you doing here anyway?” you asked, glancing around the cramped room. “Don’t tell me you dragged me in here just to sniff me like a dog.”

Jungkook huffed a laugh and finally stepped back a little, giving you some breathing room. He walked over to the corner of the room where a large, covered object sat on a workbench. He pulled the cover off. “One of the prototypes for my robotics module. The gear system keeps jamming and I needed a quiet space to take it apart and fix it before my next lab.”

You pushed off the wall, curious, walking over. On the table was a complex metallic assembly of aluminium parts, wires, and everything intricate gears. It looked impressive, even to someone who didn’t understand any of it.

You raised an eyebrow. “You built this?”

“Most of it,” he said, picking up a small tool. “Still tweaking it.”

You leaned in closer, genuinely interested now. “Can I see how it works?”

Jungkook lifted his head, staring at you for a second like he wasn’t expecting that. Then he nodded, carefully turning the module, demonstrating how the mechanism was supposed to move. His long fingers moved, pointing out where the gears kept catching and what he was trying to adjust. You watched, quietly impressed.

You sometimes forgot how smart he actually was.

Jungkook had a reputation on campus long before you ever really knew him. you’d heard his name whispered in engineering circles mostly, one of the top students in the entire department. Gifted. Quietly brilliant. A few professors had written glowing comments about him in recommendation letters and project reviews that somehow always made their way around, yet he never bragged about any of it. Kept to himself most of the time, which is probably why half the girls on campus weren’t losing their minds over him.

Or maybe they were, and you just didn’t know about it.

The thought made something bitter twist in your chest. You really needed to start marking your territory.

“Nerd,” you muttered under your breath, even when your eyes had completely betrayed you, glued to his hands as they moved over the metal module. The way his veins stood out when he flexed his fingers with every small adjustment, the slight bulge of his biceps beneath his sleeves. Oh god.

Jungkook must have felt the weight of your stare as he eventually paused, turning his head to look at you. His dark eyes scanned your face for a second, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, cocking a brow.

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. For a moment you considered lying, but the words slipped out anyway. “You have nice hands.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly caught off guard, before his smirk deepened into something more dangerous.

“Nice hands,” he repeated, almost testing the words. He straightened up slowly, turning fully toward you. “That’s what’s got you so quiet?”

You swallowed, suddenly very aware of how small the room was and how close he was standing. He took a step forward, backing you gently against the edge of the workbench.

One of those “nice hands” came up, bracing beside you as he leaned in, caging you in without even touching you.

“I was just making an observation,” you muttered, gripping the edge of the workbench behind you. “That you have nice hands… for a nerd.”

You leaned back as he leaned in, heart racing from the sudden proximity. The scent of his warm skin, faint cologne, and that stupidly comforting smell that was just entirely him, filled the small space and made your brain feel fuzzy.

“For a nerd?” Jungkook repeated, pulling back just enough to glance down at his own hands with a raised brow, as if seeing them for the first time.

You took a slow, shaky breath, eyes helplessly following the long veins on the back of his hands, the way his fingers flexed. God, you really shouldn’t be thinking about how those fingers would feel wrapped around your throat… or buried deep inside you right now.

“Mhm,” you replied, barely coherent. Quickly trying to regain your composure, you cleared your throat, looking away from his hands in the same breath. “It’s a shame they’re wasted on someone like you.”

“Oh?” the single syllable left his mouth. Before you could say anything else, Jungkook’s hands slid down to the backs of your thighs. In one smooth, effortless motion, he lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the workbench. You let out a small surprised sound as he stepped between your spread legs, settling right there like he belonged.

The new position put you at eye level with him. “What are you doing?” you nervously piped, placing your palms flat against his chest.

Frankly, you would’ve loved this proximity any other day. But right now you felt extremely tacky and damp from your period, sweaty in all the wrong places, and hyper aware of it. Still, your pulse quickened anyway, thighs trying to close around him even as you told yourself to push him away.

Jungkook continued to look at you, one hand still resting on your thigh while the other came up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m gross right now,” you whispered, embarrassed. “Really sweaty… I told you not to...”

He cut you off by leaning in even closer, nose brushing along your temple, then down the side of your neck. He inhaled slowly. “You keep saying that,” he said against your skin, rough. “but you smell fucking addictive to me.”

“Jungkook…”

He pulled back just enough to look at you again, a dangerous little smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” he asked innocently, even as his hand slid higher up your thigh. “I’m just appreciating my birthday present.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat when his other hand slipped under the hem of your top. Slowly, he pushed the fabric upward, bunching it higher and higher until cool air kissed your stomach and the underside of your bra.

Your face burned. You tried to tug your top back down, but his grip was firm, unyielding.

“You’re actually unbelievable,” you muttered, glaring at him even as a shiver ran down your spine. “I tell you I’m sweaty and on my period and your solution is to take my clothes off?”

“You think a little sweat is gonna stop me?” He leaned in closer, lips brushing the corner of your jaw as he spoke. “I’ve had my face buried between your legs when you were way messier than this, princess. You really think I give a fuck right now?”

Your cheeks burned. You swatted his chest, heart racing.

“I’m being serious,” you said, trying to sound firm even as your voice wavered. “I don’t like how tacky I feel right now. If you were all sweaty and gross, I wouldn’t want you all over me either.”

Jungkook pulled back slightly, one eyebrow raised. “I think I can live with that,” he said, clearly not believing a word you just said, calling bullshit. You both knew it wasn’t true and that you loved it when he was sweaty, when he smelled like sex and undoubtedly him.

You groaned, covering your face with one hand. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckled softly, but didn’t push it further. Instead, his hands stayed on your thighs, thumbs rubbing slow circles like he was grounding you.

You glanced toward the door, suddenly remembering reality. “I still have a stack of flyers to hand out. Lina’s going to kill me if I don’t get them done today.”

Jungkook hummed, glancing over at his half disassembled module on the workbench.

“And I need to fix this before my next lab session,” he muttered.

You looked at the intricate metal parts again and felt a small, genuine smile tug at your lips. “It’s actually really cool, by the way,” you said quietly. “What you’re building.”

Jungkook froze for a second, then scratched the back of his neck, looking almost… shy? It was such a rare sight on him that it made your chest feel warm.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice a little rougher than usual.

You nodded. “Yeah. Nerd.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. For a moment, the tension between you dissolved into something lighter, almost sweet. Then he leaned in again, pressing a slow kiss to your forehead.

“Go hand out your flyers, president,” he murmured against your skin. “Before I change my mind and keep you in here.”

“I told you not to call me that,” you rolled your eyes, gently pushing at his chest so you could slide off the workbench.

Jungkook leaned back against the table, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a lazy smirk. “Why?” he asked, tilting his head. “Is that title only convenient when you want to boss people around?”

You shot him a glare as you adjusted your sweatpants, trying to ignore how aware you still were of your sweaty skin and the dull cramps in your lower belly. “It’s different when you say it,” you grumbled. “It sounds mocking.”

Jungkook’s smirk softened just a fraction. He tilted his head, watching you. “Well, it isn’t meant to sound mocking,” he said, at last.

You narrowed your eyes at him, still flushed. “It better not be. The last thing I can handle right now is not being taken seriously.”

Jungkook studied you for a moment, before he gave a small nod.

You hesitated, then added, casually, “There’s this spring formal we’re planning. another big charity thing. That’s what all these flyers are for.” You glanced down at the stack in your hand. “I’m staying late today for rehearsals and setup. It’s going to be a long night.”

You looked back up at him, trying to keep your expression neutral even though your heartbeat betrayed you.

“…You coming?”

Jungkook looked at you with a complicated stare that always made you feel like he was weighing something in his head. After a long pause, the corner of his mouth twitched.

“I’ll think about it.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small, stupid smile tugged at your lips anyway. You pushed off the workbench, heart racing as you headed for the door.

“Whatever. Don’t show up then,” you said lightly, but there was a playful lilt in your voice. You glanced back at him once before slipping out. “Nerd.”

The door clicked shut behind you, and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling like an idiot the entire way down the hall.

You were barely ten steps out of the library annex when you spotted... Jimin?

He stood near the wide stone steps, a small crowd had already gathered around him; a few girls, some guys trying to act casual while clearly impressed. It wasn’t surprising. Jimin clearly had that effect on people with his platinum blonde hair, tailored cream colored knit sweater that probably cost more than most students’ monthly rent, layered over a crisp beige shirt.

He was mid conversation, smiling that charming, disarming smile of his, when he suddenly turned his head. The moment his eyes landed on you, his whole face lit up.

“Y/n!” he called out, already stepping away from the group without a second glance.

You didn’t even think. You rushed toward him, flyers crinkling in your arms, and practically threw yourself into his hug. Jimin laughed brightly, wrapping his arms around you tightly and rocking you side to side like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“Hi, cupcake,” he said warmly, pulling back to look at you. “You look like you’re having a day.”

“You have no idea,” you groaned, still holding onto his arms. “What are you even doing here?”

Jimin grinned and playfully pinched your nose. You swatted his hand away immediately, though a small laugh escaped you as the two of you started walking side by side.

“I can’t come visit you?” he teased, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “I thought you’d left by now.”

“Well, I am leaving in a few days, to be exact,” he said, pulling you a little closer. “I thought I’d come say goodbye in person.”

“Goodbye? Here? Of all places?”

Jimin shrugged, his expensive cologne subtly wafting around you. “Figured we could talk. After how abruptly you got pulled away from me during the gala…”

You winced at the memory. That night still left a sour taste in your mouth. Jungkook dragging you out without much explanation, leaving you no chance to even say a proper goodbye to Jimin.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” you said quietly.

Jimin waved it off with a casual flick of his hand, but his eyes were sharp.

“Jungkook was just—”

“Being a jealous boyfriend?” he finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

You nearly flinched at the word. Boyfriend. To Jimin, and most people who knew you two from the outside, Jungkook was still your boyfriend. You hadn’t corrected the narrative yet. You weren’t even sure how to.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, forcing a small smile. “Something like that.”

Jimin let out a low whistle, shaking his head with a grin.

“Should’ve seen his face when he first walked in,” he said, clearly amused at the memory. “Had it imprinted in my head for the rest of the night. Shit, he was pissed I took his girl for even five minutes.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with one hand as the two of you kept walking.

“Where is he anyway?” Jimin asked, glancing around casually. “I’m a little hurt he rejected my handshake last time. Thought we were cool.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “He’s probably off somewhere being… Jungkook.”

Jimin hummed, his arm still loosely draped around your shoulders. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “But I do feel like making him jealous again.”

“Please don’t—” you said quickly, shaking your head, laughing, half serious.

Jimin just gave you a teasing glance, clearly enjoying himself way too much.

“What’s up with all these flyers?” he asked, plucking one from the stack in your arms and scanning it. “Spring Formal? Since when are you planning events again?”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the stack against your chest. “It’s this stupid formal we have in two days. Everything’s been so last minute because I’ve been… distracted for a while.”

Jimin raised a perfectly groomed brow, his expression shifting from playful to mildly disapproving in that signature perfectionist way of his.

“Distracted,” he repeated, tone dry. “You’re the president of your sorority, Y/n. You’re supposed to be the one keeping everything together, not the one disappearing while things fall apart.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I know. I’ve just had a lot going on.”

Jimin hummed, clearly unimpressed, but didn’t push too hard. Instead, he took half the stack of flyers from your hands without asking.

“Well, since I’m here…” He flashed a charming smile at a group of girls walking by and smoothly handed them flyers, saying something that made them laugh and blush within seconds. “Here you go, ladies. Come support the cause. Bring your friends. I might even be there.”

You watched in annoyed disbelief as the girls eagerly took the flyers, giggling and whispering to each other as they walked away.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered. “I’ve been handing these out for twenty minutes and barely got ten people to take one. You show up looking like a runaway prince and suddenly everyone wants one.”

Jimin grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “What can I say? Being charismatic is kind of my brand.”

You elbowed him lightly. “Show-off.”

He laughed, slinging an arm around your shoulders again as you both continued walking.

“So,” you said after a moment, glancing up at him. “Are you going to be there? If you don’t leave for the Poconos already.”

Jimin looked down at you, his expression softening just a bit.

“For you? I’ll think about it.”

You continued walking side by side across the main quad, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the grass. For a few minutes, everything felt lighter. Then you noticed the shift in Jimin’s face, the easy smile fading as his brows pulled together slightly as though something heavy had settled in his mind.

He stayed quiet for a few more steps before speaking.

“Hey… random question,” he started, voice lower now. “Do Seo-hwa and your father speak to each other anymore?”

You stopped walking.

The casual peace drained from your face instantly. The question felt so abrupt, so out of place, that it took you a second to even process it.

“…No,” you said slowly, confusion thick in your voice. “They don’t have a reason to. Not after the divorce.”

Jimin’s jaw tightened. He looked away for a second, then back at you, his usual playful energy completely gone.

“You’re reason enough for them to talk.”

You stared at him, heart picking up speed for an entirely different reason now. “What are you talking about, Jimin?”

He exhaled through his nose, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear before continuing.

“I heard some things. Just… keep your eyes open, okay? Especially with everything going on with the sorority and that formal. If anything feels off, tell me.”

You searched his face, unease crawling up your spine.

“Jimin,” you pressed, voice quieter. “What did you hear?”

He hesitated, glancing around once more before speaking.

“Look, I know it’s not my place since you didn’t let me in on much, but… I overheard Seo-hwa on the phone with your father. It was the night after the gala. I only realized it was him because of how formal she sounded. the way she addressed him. Cold and business-like.”

He paused, watching your reaction.

“None of it seemed to be about you. That’s what felt off. She was pushing him to come back from overseas sooner than planned. Something about timing and ‘tying up loose ends.’ I couldn’t hear everything, but… it didn’t sound like a normal co-parenting call. It felt off-putting.”

Your head tilted slightly as you listened, pieces slowly clicking into place while others scattered in the opposite direction.

That random morning call from your father, the one that came while Jungkook was still in your bed. The way he sounded almost too casual, asking how you were doing, after weeks of complete silence. You’d assumed he somehow found out about Jungkook. But now?

Now you weren’t so sure.

Jimin noticed the shift in your expression and gently squeezed your shoulder.

“I’m not trying to freak you out,” he said carefully. “I just thought you should know. Your parents don’t talk… and suddenly they are? After years? It doesn’t feel right.”

You swallowed hard, staring at the stack of flyers in your hands without really seeing them.

“…Yeah,” you whispered. “It doesn’t.”

Jimin stayed quiet, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You let out a slow breath and continued.

“You’re right when you said it’s not your place to pry,” you told him, softer now. “Because it doesn’t really bother me in the way you think it might.”

Jimin immediately raised both hands in surrender, his expression apologetic.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I overstepped.”

He paused for a second, then added more gently, “I just thought I’d let you know. What if this situation forces you back into all of that… with Yoona?”

“No, it won’t,” you said firmly. “I can assure you that. My dad wouldn’t involve me in any of this, especially when it involves Mom. So you don’t have to worry.”

Jimin nodded, though he still looked a little unconvinced. After a second, he gave a small, rueful smile.

“Right. I’m just saying… I’m here for anything. If not, Jungkook’s there for you. I’m sure he can be of more help than I’ll ever be.”

The words made you feel a sharp pang of guilt. You stopped walking and turned to face him fully.

“I’m sorry, Jimin,” you said quietly, sincere. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. Of course I’ll need you. You’re probably the only friend I have right now that I can actually trust.”

Jimin’s eyes softened. He reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, his touch warm and familiar.

“I know,” he said, voice kind. “I’m not mad. I just… don’t want you to be alone with all of this.”

“Yeah, I get that. Thank you,” you replied softly, offering him a small but genuine smile.

But what Jimin didn’t know was that you were already aware your parents talked every once in a while. Mostly business. Rarely about you. It used to bother you a lot more when you were younger. The last time you’d known about it was last halloween — the night you’d first approached Jungkook, only to be interrupted by your father’s call, ranting about your mother’s arrogance and negligence.

You pushed the memory aside.

“Actually… I’m going to stay a little late tonight,” you told him, shifting the flyers in your arms. “We have rehearsals for the formal. Do you want to come?”

Jimin’s face lit up for a second before regret settled in. “I’d love to. And I’d love to formally meet Jungkook this time, totally.” He gave you a teasing look. “But unfortunately I have a photoshoot at that exact hour. Can’t reschedule it.”

You nodded, trying not to show your slight disappointment. “That’s okay. Work is work.”

Jimin studied you for a moment, then gently bumped your shoulder with his.

“I’ll make it up to you. Dinner soon? Just us. No boyfriends, no parents, no drama. Deal?”

You smiled, leaning into him for a second.

“Deal.”

The rehearsal hall was pure chaos.

Chairs were scattered everywhere, half the string lights were still in boxes. You stood near the front with a clipboard, trying your best to direct people, but it felt like shouting into a void. Lina was right beside you, equally frazzled, her quite sharp demeanor cracking under the pressure.

“Girls, please— the tables need to go along the left wall, not the center!” you called out, voice straining.

A few of them glanced at you before continuing their conversations. Someone even laughed at something on their phone. You clenched your jaw.

Lina shot you a look, wiping sweat from her forehead. “This is what happens when the president disappears for weeks,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no real venom in it, just exhaustion.

You grit your teeth, aggressively flipping through the pages on your clipboard. “I did not disappear for weeks, Lina,” you snapped, keeping your voice low. “I don’t expect you to understand, but sadly, we’re in this mess together. So I’d rather we not fight it out right now.”

Lina opened her mouth, but you continued, louder this time so the girls nearby could hear.

“It’s not like I left any of you behind. I’m still here. And so far, it seems like I’m the only serious person in this room.”

Your voice carried across the hall. A few girls stopped talking and turned toward you. The chatter quieted just enough for you to feel a small sense of control again.

You exhaled and moved toward the stage area, spotting one of the tech guys fiddling with the microphones.

“Hey, Mark,” you called, walking up to him. “Last time we used this stage, half the mics cut out during the program. Please tell me that’s not going to happen again. We have important guests coming.”

Mark scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Yeah, we’re on it. I swapped out the faulty ones this morning. Should be fine this time.”

You nodded, but your eyes kept drifting, until you spotted Jungkook, leaning against the wall near the entrance, talking with a small group of guys. Minho was there too, lounging in one of the chairs.

Your heart did a stupid little flip when your eyes landed on Jungkook. You’d asked him to come, and he actually showed up.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips.

You tried to focus on Mark again, nodding along to whatever he was saying about sound checks, but your gaze kept wandering back to Jungkook. He hadn’t noticed you yet. Or at least, it didn’t seem like it.

After a few more instructions, you walked back toward Lina, who was scribbling something on her own clipboard with a tense expression. She glanced up at you, then subtly nodded toward the back of the hall where the guys were.

“Okay, I’ve got Mark to swap out the faulty mics,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady and professional. “They should be good for the run through.”

Lina nodded, but her expression stayed tense. She lowered her voice even more. “That’s good, but… can we talk about something else for a second?”

You followed her gaze again. Jungkook was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed, talking to Minho and a couple of other guys. He hadn’t looked your way yet.

Lina exhaled. “I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors lately. About you.”

“Lina, I don’t care about any of that right now,” you said, voice flat as you flipped through your clipboard again.

Lina looked like she wanted to push, but you continued before she could.

“Honestly, when hasn’t there been rumors about me?” You let out a tired, bitter laugh. “At this point it’s basically a campus tradition. Let them talk.”

Lina exhaled slowly, like she’d been holding this in for a while. “No, but… a lot of things sort of came out recently.”

You paused, turning to look at her fully. “What do you mean?”

She glanced around quickly, then grabbed your wrist and pulled you further to the side, behind one of the tall stage curtains where it was quieter.

Lina lowered her voice, almost hesitant. “I’m only telling you because I think it’s about time you know.”

She breathed in deeply before continuing. “A couple weeks ago, some seniors got Minho drunk at an afterparty. A lot of them... guys he knows from around campus. They were prying about your breakup, asking all these questions. One of them… he was really interested in you. Kept pushing Minho for details, like why it ended, what you were like, stuff like that.”

Your stomach twisted. Lina continued, her voice firm. “Minho was wasted. And he started talking. He said you’re not the type of girl who sticks around. That you sleep around a lot.”

She paused, clearly uncomfortable. “He called you… kind of a whore. Said it was never going to last between you two anyway.”

Lina quickly tried to soften the blow, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think he meant any of it. It was probably just an attempt to get the seniors off your back…” She hesitated, then added even quieter, “Kind of made me realise he might still be in love with you--”

“No. Don’t.” Your voice came out sharp, cutting her off instantly. “He called me a whore, Lina.”

The word felt disgusting in your mouth. You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into the clipboard so hard the plastic creaked.

Lina looked guilty, shifting on her feet. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even said that last part.”

Your mind was spinning, replaying every interaction you’d had with Minho since the breakup, trying to understand how someone who once claimed to care about you could say something like that so casually. The humiliation burned deep enough to make you feel exposed. Dirty. Everyone in this hall was secretly whispering about you, judging you, laughing at the idea of the “perfect” sorority president being nothing more than easy.

Lina watched your face, her expression softening with guilt. “I don’t think it’s true. At all. But… those guys talked. And now it’s going around campus. A lot of the girls have heard it too.”

You stayed silent for a long second, trying to process everything. “…When did this happen exactly?” you asked, voice strangely calm.

Lina shrugged, looking a little lost. “I’m not sure. Maybe a week or two before? I only heard about it a few days ago. The timeline’s fuzzy.”

“I didn’t defend you when I heard them talking,” she admitted quietly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something, but… I didn’t know how to without making it worse.”

You didn’t respond to any of it, just stared at the floor, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders. Lina shifted awkwardly beside you.

“It’s okay, Lina,” you finally said, voice surprisingly steady. “Thank you for telling me.”

She studied your face, concern clear in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

You placed your clipboard down on a nearby table, suddenly too tired to keep holding it. “Yeah, I am,” you lied, forcing a small smile. “I’m just on my period and everything sucks right now. But… I’ll be fine.”

Lina looked like she wanted to say more, but she just nodded.

You excused yourself quickly, weaving through the chaotic hall toward the restroom near the back entrance. The second the door closed behind you, the noise from rehearsal dulled into a low hum.

You leaned against the sink counter, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your face looked flushed, eyes tired, hair slightly messy from the long day.

He called you a whore.

The words kept repeating in your head.

You knew Minho. He was stupidly reckless when he was drunk, and prone to saying out of pocket shit to look cool in front of his friends. But this crossed a line. Even for him. The fact that he’d paint you as someone who just sleeps around, it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You gripped the edge of the sink, breathing slowly.

Part of you wanted to march over to him right now and demand answers. Another part of you just felt exhausted. Empty.

You splashed some cold water on your face, staring at your reflection for a long moment. The hurt was still there, sharp and ugly, but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. Not fully. Not yet.

Right now, you just wanted to feel something else.

You dried your face and left the restroom, the noise of the rehearsal hall crashing back over you. Instead of heading straight back to the main area, you turned toward the side corridor that led to the equipment storage where they kept all the instruments, amps, and extra stage gear.

That’s when you saw Jungkook, who had wandered away from Minho and the rest of the guys. He was leaning against the wall near the storage entrance, scrolling through his phone, looking completely detached from everything happening around him.

Something in your chest loosened just at the sight of him.

Without thinking, you walked straight up to him. He looked up right as you reached him. Before he could say anything, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the dimly lit storage room, closing the door behind you.

You leaned back against the door, breathing a little harder, heart still racing from everything Lina had told you. The moment your eyes landed on Jungkook in the dim storage room, something in your chest loosened and tightened all at once.

He looked confused, brows slightly furrowed as he stood there, hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” you said shyly, almost whispering.

“Hi,” he replied, voice flat.

For a second, you just looked at him, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his dark hair fell slightly messy over his forehead, those intense eyes that always seemed to see too much. Your gaze dropped to his lips.

God, how long had it been since he’d actually kissed you? Not the heated, rushed kind you usually shared, but a real kiss. The kind that made your knees weak and your thoughts disappear.

You wanted that right now. You wanted him to pull you in and make everything else fade away.

“Jungkook…” you whispered, voice soft. “I think I want you to kiss me.”

He didn’t move at first. Then he stepped closer.

You instinctively pressed yourself back against the wall as he crowded you, one hand coming up to rest beside your head. He was so close now that you had to tilt your head up to look at him. The tension was suffocating. completely different from the playful warmth he’d given you this morning.

His eyes bored straight into yours, and that’s when you noticed it. there was no softness there anymore. No sleepy affection. Just a cold, intense stare that sent a shiver down your spine. It was almost… angry. Or disappointed. Or something worse. You couldn’t quite read it, and that scared you more than anything.

You felt small under that gaze. Exposed.

“You don’t have to… if you don’t want to,” you stuttered, suddenly nervous, fingers twitching at your sides.

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. He leaned in even closer, his breath brushing your lips, but he still didn’t kiss you. Instead, his fingers caught your chin, tilting your face up firmly so you couldn’t look away. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was unyielding. His thumb pressed against your jaw as he stared down at you, searching your eyes like he was looking for something he no longer trusted.

“No,” he said roughly. “I’ll kiss you.”

“But first,” he murmured, voice dangerously quiet, “tell me what the fuck we’re doing, y/n.”

Your breath caught.

“I… I didn’t think...” Your voice cracked. You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. “We were fine, Jungkook. You were smiling at me earlier. We had a great time. You held me like you didn’t want to let go. Why are you doing this now?”

“Because I’m fucking tired,” he growled, low and rough. “You drag me in here like you need me… like I’m the only one who can make you feel better.” His thumb pressed harder against your lip. “But you still won’t call this anything. You still won’t admit what this is.”

You flinched, eyes stinging. The shift in him was brutal. This wasn’t the Jungkook from morning who had traced lazy circles on your back. This was something deeper, something that had clearly been festering. The cold, distant version that always kept you guessing. the one that made you question everything.

“I didn’t mean—” you breathed, voice breaking. He leaned in closer, forehead nearly touching yours, eyes burning with cold anger.

“Tell me,” he continued, voice dropping even lower, almost venomous, “am I just convenient for you? Someone to fuck and run to when shit gets hard? When Minho fucks you over and the rumors start flying, I’m the one you come crawling to?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes stinging.

The words hit like a slap. Your vision blurred as tears threatened to spill. First Minho calling you a whore behind your back… and now this. Jungkook, the one person you’d started to lean on, cornering you with the same cold suspicion.

“Oh… You know about the rumours,” a bitter chuckle escaped you as you continued, “Of course you do. Sometimes I forget you’re still Minho’s plus-one.”

You swallowed hard. “What’s different about you? Just go ahead and call me a whore too then.”

His eyes narrowed at your bitter chuckle, but the moment the word “whore” left your lips, his expression shifted, the raw anger flickered with confusion. His grip on your hip loosened slightly as he pulled back just enough to really look at you.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he muttered, voice still low but now edged with bewilderment. His brows furrowed deeply. “Why the hell would you call yourself that?”

You tried to look away, but he caught your chin again, forcing your gaze back to his.

“No. Don’t dodge me. Why did you say that, Y/n?” His thumb brushed your jaw almost gently this time, the confusion cutting through some of the venom in his tone. “I never called you anything like that. Not once. Where is this coming from?”

You breathed hard, chest rising and falling rapidly against his. Your mind was spinning.

Should you tell him? What if he doesn’t believe you? He’s known Minho for so much longer. they’re always together. How different is Jungkook from Minho anyway?

The fear made your throat tight. You could feel the heat of Jungkook’s scent surrounding you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to read every secret you were hiding.

You shook your head slightly, avoiding his intense gaze.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you whispered, frustrated. “I already know that’s what you, and everybody else thinks of me so—”

Jungkook’s grip on your jaw tightened instantly, forcing your eyes back to his. His brows were drawn together in a mixture of confusion and rising frustration.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he growled roughly, “I just told you I’ve never thought of you like that. Why are you putting words in my mouth?”

You breathed hard, chest rising and falling rapidly against his. “Jungkook. Quit it. Quit the act.” Your voice shook even as you tried to sound firm. “There’s nothing else you could’ve meant from telling me I crawl to you only when it’s convenient for me, other than meaning exactly that.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened. He stared at you for a long, heavy second, jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle ticking. Then he leaned in closer, lips hovering just above yours, so close you could almost taste him. His hand slid from your chin to the side of your neck, holding you there firmly, possessive.

“So tell me I’m wrong then,” he whispered harshly, breath hot against your mouth. “Tell me this isn’t just convenient for you.”

His thumb pressed lightly against your racing pulse. “Tell me that when you come to me shaking and desperate, it’s not just because I’m good at making you cum.” He pressed his body flush against yours, hard and unyielding, making you feel every inch of him.

He looked like he was one second away from walking out. Or kissing you. Or destroying you.

And you had no idea which one it would be.

Jungkook leaned in, dark eyes burning yours. “Or finally admit what the fuck we are, y/n…” His breath trembled against your lips. “Because I’m one second away from losing my fucking mind over you.”