#taekook

Someone shuffled beside you in bed, and a large arm came up around you, trapping you in the pillowy white blanket underneath its weight. You glanced down, a familiar pattern of tattoos inked into the skin of the bicep currently pinning you to the mattress.

Oh right.

You turned your head, coming face to face with a very much still asleep Jungkook. You froze in place, all the memories from last night rushing back to you all at once.

The after-party, the black-suited security guard instructing you to stay put and asking you to wait a little longer, the two heavy stacks of documents you were suddenly handed, and, through shaky eyes, you scribbled and signed before being escorted to a large van with tinted windows.

You blinked a few times, as if to try to prove to yourself that this wasn't a dream. Jungkook's lips were parted slightly, his face soft and relaxed, his stage makeup from the night before still around his eyes and ever so slightly smudged. His hair fell over his face, bangs stuck oddly in different places, his lips full and pouty.

Even when sleeping, this man was devastatingly gorgeous.

You studied his face for a little while, in silent awe of being in his bed. You shuffled a little and rolled onto your side, turning your back to him as his little spoon. You slid yourself back towards him until you were met with his warm, bare chest. Jungkook subconsciously slid his arm down, landing his arm comfortably on the smallest part of your waist. Your heart was pounding at the touch; the only separation between his arm and your very naked body was the duvet that was draped lazily over your torso.

You settled into your new position, still half asleep and comfy, and saw a mess of black and blonde hair from over the little hill in the blanket. You couldn't help but smile to yourself, the giddiness returning in full swing.

The other wildly exciting part of your night.

Taehyung was facing away from you, lying on his stomach, his hair peeking out from above the blanket. His arms were tucked neatly under his pillow, the flex of his biceps so close to you sending a stir to your stomach again.

Maybe if you stayed completely still, they would keep sleeping, and you could stay here forever.

You let yourself drift back to sleep, but your heart was already awake and racing. There was no way you could fall asleep again now. You shuffled a little under the blanket again, curling yourself up into a little ball as you tried to get extra comfy. Then there was some movement on the mattress. Taehyung lifted his head off his pillow, staring off at the wall for a few seconds before turning his head to finally face you.

"Oh, you're awake." He spoke in a low whisper in the dark bedroom; his morning voice was rough and gravelly, but the same silkiness like honey poured through.

You nodded with a soft smile, and he smiled back, reaching his arm over the blanket to pet your chin. You felt yourself flush, the shyness hitting you at full force. You flustered at his touch, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"Does your head hurt?" he whispered, hand still resting gently on your face.

"Not really, I'm a little dizzy," you replied.

"Sit tight. Let me get you some water."

Taehyung sat up in bed, his bare back facing you as he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, stretching his neck side to side before standing up. Your eyes drifted to the tattoo on his lower back, something you never thought you'd be able to see so detailed and up close. You couldn't do anything but stare, still in such shock about how you ended up here.

He walked over to the mini fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of water before cracking it open and returning to the bed.

"Here."

You nodded your head and thanked him, propping yourself up on your arm so you could take a sip. The icy, cool water was an immediate relief to your dry throat. Taehyung watched you as you took a few sips from the bottle, the water feeling like God's gift to your hungover body right now.

Jungkook stirred behind you, his arm still heavy on your waist. You heard a few quiet, sleepy hums behind you, and you turned your head back to face him, his eyes cracking open slowly.

"Mm," he hummed, eyes blinking slowly as he woke up in phases. His eyes landed on you, tucked safely under his arm and pressed against his warm, bare chest.

"Morning," he said with a lazy smile, before his eyes closed again. He pulled you in a little closer, the comfort of cuddling you lulling him back to sleep.

"Jungkook-ah," Taehyung climbed back into bed, reaching over you to nudge his friend on the shoulder. Jungkook furrowed his brows and lifted his head, eyes open again.

"It's almost nine. Get up."

Jungkook let out a grunt in protest before looking down at you, still cradled in his arms.

"Have fun last night?" he said with a small, sleepy smirk.

You crinkled your nose, turning your face into your pillow to hide your embarrassed smile. Jungkook laughed before planting a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He sat up and rolled his neck a few times, his broad bare back perfectly chiselled, even in the dark room. You felt your mouth water, your head still resting on the pillow.

Jungkook shuffled down the hall, and a few moments later, the bathroom light flicked on, the door swinging half-closed.

Taehyung was back in bed with you, now lying on his back, still shirtless and only in his sleep shorts. He looked at you with quiet curiosity before opening his arm towards you, patting his chest with his other hand.

You scooted closer to him and rested your head on his chest, his warm, strong arm wrapping around you safely. You nestled yourself deeper into him; the smell of his sweat mixed with the leathery notes of his cologne was enough to drive you crazy.

"Sleep well?" Taehyung mumbled as he traced soft circles on your arm.

"Mhm," you hummed, your hand resting on his chest next to your cheek.

"Good," he replied, giving your arm a quick squeeze.

He tilted you up by the chin, your eyes locking with his, only inches away from each other. You felt everything inside you turn into a puddle at his touch.

"I had a lot of fun last night," he said with a lazy smile. "I hope it wasn't too much for you."

"No, I had fun—it was fun," you said with a smile, fighting the blush from rising to your cheeks.

Taehyung leaned in and brought his lips down on yours, his full, pouting lips electrifying you as he kissed you. You parted your lips involuntarily, and he let out a soft laugh as he deepened the kiss, delicately, sweetly, and not aggressively and dominating like it was last night.

"Mm," you hummed into his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss for a moment before he pushed himself deeper against you, his tongue swiping your lower lip for entry. You let your mouth fall open, granting him access to the inside of your mouth. Taehyung wasn't rushed; he licked your tongue softly first, before darting his tongue in a little deeper, sweeping the inside of your mouth like he was trying to map out the inside of your mouth before you had to leave.

"Tae," you moaned, the sensation of his wet tongue against yours so early in the morning sending a fire directly to your lower core.

"Gonna miss this pretty mouth when we fly out tonight," he murmured into your mouth.

Taehyung lifted you up so that you were practically lying on top of him now, and he pulled away from your lips for a moment, propping his pillow up behind him so he was sitting up a little more, watching you with those hypnotizing eyes.

"Why don't you leave us with one more memory before you have to go?" His tone was lower, dripping with his want for you, his eyes the same as they were last night: dark and commanding.

You bit your lower lip as you slid yourself down his bare torso, landing yourself right at his waist. Taehyung was already hard beneath the fabric of his pyjama shorts, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you intently.

With one hand, you slipped his waistband down, his waiting cock peeking out from the waistband, flushed and already a little glistened from precum.

You were the luckiest girl on earth.

You took him in your mouth, the familiar salty sweetness of his arousal coating your tongue. Taehyung's mouth fell open, his eyes trained on you as you swirled your tongue expertly over the head of his needy cock.

"Mmm, so gorgeous," he moaned as he watched you.

Your head was still spinning a little from the alcohol, but you blinked hard to maintain your focus. Your wet, pouty lips worked his tip as you licked at the soft tendon at the underside of his cock.

Taehyung bucked his hips a little at the sensation you were giving him, his one arm coming up to hold up the back of his head.

"Yeah, just like that."

You dipped your head lower, his cock sinking deeper into your mouth, nudging on the back of your throat. Taehyung let out a deep, breathy moan, his eyes fluttering closed as you slid your mouth up and down his length.

"Fuck," he grunted, before his other hand flew to the back of your head, pushing you further down onto his long, thick cock. "Obsessed with you."

You felt yourself gag a little at the force of his hand on the top of your head, guiding you further and further down his length. He was deep down your throat now, his thickness filling your mouth entirely, knocking your uvula with every bounce. You closed your eyes, focused on pleasing the superstar sprawled out in front of you. You closed your hand into a fist, fighting the tears that threatened to escape your eyes from the intensity of his fullness in your mouth.

Taehyung bobbed you up and down with his guided hand, his hips bucking upwards to let himself feel even more of you, the stretch of your mouth around him driving him crazy.

"So fucking good, hm? Fucking love this mouth," he hissed as he continued fucking your mouth, his satoori bleeding through every anunciation of his words. "Fuck."

"I still feel fucking drunk," Jungkook suddenly turned the corner, reappearing from the bathroom, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight of you, naked and on your knees in front of Taehyung, your head being pinned down by his hand as he fucked your mouth like you were his personal little pornstar.

"Huh, so this is what you were doing while I was washing my face," Jungkook scoffed, taking a step closer towards the foot of the bed.

You let out a muffled moan, and Taehyung released his hand from your head, letting you finally catch some air. You pulled off of him with a desperate wet pop, your eyes and lashes wet, your chin already dribbling with saliva. You were panting as you brought your hand up to Taehyung's cock, still determined to please him. You pumped your hand up and down his length firmly, milking him as you caught your breath.

"Hyung, you're so fucking greedy," Jungkook murmured, taking another step towards the bed so that he was only a couple of feet behind you at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook was still shirtless in his gym shorts, and he watched quietly as you continued to please his bandmate, your hand pumping Taehyung's cock with a steady pace, dipping your head back onto the first few inches of his length.

"Ugh, fuck, you're so pretty," Jungkook groaned, palming himself over his shorts now. "Even in the early morning, you're just as much of a giver as you were last night."

"Isn't she such a good girl?" Taehyung looked up at his dongsaeng with a cocky smirk. "Sucking me off for breakfast."

"Mhm," Jungkook replied, his voice low and hungry.

Jungkook pulled the toothbrush from his mouth, wiping his mouth on the abandoned towel on the bench at the foot of the bed.

"Can you handle some more, love?" Jungkook's words were sweet, but the way they came out of his mouth was mean, like he was teasing you.

You popped your mouth off of Taehyung and tossed your hair over your shoulder to look back at Jungkook. You didn't say anything, just gave him a look, that look that got you into this mess in the first place.

He let out half a cocky laugh before he slid his shorts down, undressing himself behind you.

You felt your core burning already, your pussy clenching around the painful nothingness. The cool air of the hotel room felt extra sensitive against your exposed cunt, your ass up in the air from pleasing Taehyung.

"C'mere," Jungkook said with a growl as he reached forward, gripping your hips and yanking you backwards towards him. You let out a giggly yelp at the way he manhandled you.

Jungkook slid his thumb against your pussy, the pad of his thumb parting your folds so easily. You shivered at the sensation, the glide of his finger sending little sparks throughout your whole body.

"Already dripping," he murmured to himself. "Tae, you got her so wet already."

Taehyung let out a laugh, giving Jungkook a cocky half-shrug as he took his own cock into his left hand, pumping himself lazily.

"She has good taste."

Jungkook dipped a finger into you first, the feeling of something, anything inside of you making you gasp. He hummed as he slid another finger into you, before he began to scissor his fingers inside of you, stretching you out.

"Hnng, JK," you hissed, your head dropping forward against the blanket.

"Shh shh," Jungkook said with a smirk. "Just getting you ready for me, baby."

"I think she can handle it already, Koo." Taehyung was watching you, face pressed into the blanket to muffle your moans as he jerked himself off to the view.

The sensation of Jungkook's fingers suddenly went away, before being replaced by the burning, splitting sensation of his cock pressing into you, slowly, inch by inch.

"Ah!" You wailed into the blanket, the soft pillow duvet swallowing any of your cries. "Too-too much."

"You can take it," Taehyung growled, still fucking his hand in front of your face. "You took it so well last night, didn't you, baby?"

You nodded and propped yourself back up properly before arching your back, giving yourself fully to Jungkook as he sank deeper into you, until he was completely sheathed inside of your pussy. The feeling of him filling you completely was shattering your sanity; Jungkook was hung, bigger than any of the boyfriends from your past, and he knew exactly how to use all nine inches of his pretty cock.

"That's it," Jungkook groaned, staying still for a moment as you quaked and clenched around him desperately, trying to get used to the feeling of him again. "Take it. Take all of me, pretty girl."

"F-fuck," you moaned, lifting your head off the bed finally. "God, you feel so good inside of me."

"Love my cock, huh? Wanna take it all for me like a good girl, ah?" Jugnkook's voice was gravelly and low, his Busan accent thick and evident in every sentence as he got lost in the feeling of you, still drunk and sleepy.

"Yes, JK," you whimpered.

He began to set a rhythm, rocking his hips against your ass at a pace that knocked the wind out of your lungs. You let out a cry at the intensity, his length splitting you in half as he fucked you from behind.

Taehyung groaned at the sight of you, falling apart already on Jungkook's cock. You looked up at Taehyung through needy eyes, your brows furrowed and lips pouting as your breath matched the pace of every slam of Jungkook's hips into you.

"Think you can take us both, hm?" Taehyung's accent was thick, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you like a jaguar. "Come here, take this cock too."

You swallowed between gasps before reaching forward, wrapping your hand around Taehyung's girthy size again. He cocked his head to the side as he watched you, his other hand coming up to fluff the back of his hair.

"Come on, princess, don't be shy," Jungkook growled from behind you, still fucking you expertly. "Show us what you can do."

You could barely think straight with how well Jungkook's cock was hitting your g-spot, knocking stars into your vision with every thrust. You shook your head a little before poking your tongue out of your mouth again, enveloping Taehyung in your mouth once more.

"Fuuuck," Taehyung moaned, dropping his head back against his pillow. "You're a gorgeous little cumslut, aren't you?"

You nodded a little as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock again, swallowing every inch of him that you could possibly take. Taehyung's length stretched your mouth out so crudely, and he sneered at you as he watched you struggle to take him all in your mouth.

"Too fucking big for you?" Taehyung groaned, his dialect itching your ears in just the right way. "Dirty girl, you can do it."

You felt like your body was on fire; every part of you felt full, spent, but your head was spinning with how much pleasure you were experiencing. Jungkook was fucking you so well from behind, every thrust of his hips pushing you deeper onto Taehyung's cock.

"Wanna see you fall apart like this on the both of us, honey," Jungkook groaned before dropping his hand down to your pussy, rubbing slow, controlled, firm circles on your clit.

You let out a muffled cry, the sounds dampened against Taehyung's length stuffed in your mouth. He grinned down at you, your mouth so full of him, and his other hand came back down to hold you steady.

You felt like you were going to die, but you already were in heaven.

Your core burned hotter and hotter, the cord inside of you beginning to stretch impossibly tight. Jungkook's tip was knocking against your sensitive spot so perfectly, and you thought you could pass out from the pleasure.

The rhythm of his hips suddenly faltered for a moment, and Jungkook leaned down, fishing his phone out of his shorts that were left abandoned on the floor.

The blanket around you was suddenly illuminated by a phone light, and your eyes widened as you realized Jungkook was filming you, spread open, bent over, and taking him like a pornstar. Humiliation immediately washed over your whole body, and you were sure that if you weren't red in the face before, you definitely were now.

"Jungkook—" you gasped, popping your mouth off of Taehyung for a moment.

"Don't worry, angel, nobody's ever going to see this except me. And Hyung."

Taehyung chuckled, his hand pushing your head back down along him. He gave you a wink, the small gesture sending a surge of adrenaline through your body, and you picked up the pace.

"Ugh fuck, look at her. Performing for the camera."

Jungkook held the camera at arm's length so that he was filming himself fucking you, selfie-style, as you sucked Taehyung off. He threw his head back into the pillow again, his lower lip pinched between his teeth as his abdomen was flexed, his pleasure taking over his whole demeanour.

"Gonna fucking cum in this pretty mouth," Taehyung hissed, brows furrowed as he sat up a little further, his V-line and abdomen on perfect display, glistening with sweat and flexed.

"Sin fucking city," Jungkook said to the camera with a cocky laugh. "Look at her."

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you persisted. Jungkook's fingers were still working your clit, and you were desperately trying not to explode, not to scream out in pleasure.

Taehyung let out a long, pornographic moan as he reached his climax, his warm, desperate spurts hitting you in the back of your throat. Your mouth was suddenly flooded with the salty-sweet taste of him, thick and creamy on your tongue.

"Fuuck-God," Taehyung hissed, his hand pushing you down along his length impossibly deep as he rode out his high. "Horny little slut, taking my load in her pretty mouth."

You dragged your tongue along the underside of his length, all the way up to the top, cleaning him up with your mouth before you drank all of him down. You swallowed with a gasp, your mouth falling open to show Taehyung that you had taken all of him so well, just like he wanted.

Taehyung's hand released from your head to tilt you up to look at him by the chin. You held eye contact with him through teary eyes, still rocking forward on your knees as Jungkook fucked you. Taehyung's eyes were still dark, but his gestures were a little sweeter now, his thumb dragging along your lower lip, wiping up the residual cum dripping from your mouth.

"Pretty girl," he hummed. "Getting me off so well while Koo fucks you from the back."

You let out a whine at Taehyung's gentle hands as Jungkook wrecked you, the two opposite sensations making your head spin.

"Please, please," you begged, your eyes needy and wet as you held Taehyung's gaze. "Feels so-so good, Tae. Gonna—"

"Fuck, she feels so tight around me," Jungkook hissed, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought his own pleasure, his camera still on you.

You were teetering on the edge now, your climax dangerously close. You squeezed your eyes shut, the pleasure manifesting itself in the faces you were making, desperate, vulnerable, and so erotic.

Taehyung's voice broke through your trance.

"Look at me."

Your eyes flew open, Taehyung's hand returning to your chin as he held you up, forcing you to look at him. He was smiling at you, not sweet, but cocky.

"Just wanna remember what you look like as you cum, hm?" Taehyung said with a grin.

That was it.

Your climax ripped through your body, the intensity so strong that your vision went blurry, and you dropped your head to the blanket, as you wailed into the covers. Taehyung lifted your head back up with ease, your eyes rolled back into your head, eyes fluttering, knuckles white as you gripped the bedsheets. You felt a warm rush of liquid escape you, dripping down your thighs and trickling onto the bed with an audible drip.

"Fuck, so sexy," Jungkook hissed, maintaining his mean pace. "Squirting all over me like a dirty whore."

"Tae, too much, he's too much," you sobbed, the pleasure mixing with pain as Jungkook knocked his cock into you, his pace picking up as he neared his climax.

"Shh, you can take it," Taehyung murmured, stroking your cheek. "Take it, doll."

Jungkook let out a low groan through gritted teeth, his phone abandoned on the bed, both his hands gripping you by the hips as he pounded into you continuously.

"Fuck, you squeeze around me so well, gonna fucking cum in this slutty cunt, huh?"

You felt your body go limp, but you stayed on your knees so obediently, letting Jungkook climb to his peak as he fucked you feverishly.

A large hand came down on your ass, giving you a stinging slap. You wailed out, your fingers coming up to intertwine with Taehyung's.

"Fucking perfect girl," Jungkook growled. "Letting me fuck her while Hyung watches. Gonna fucking wreck you, baby."

"Let Jungkook cum in your pretty pussy, baby," Taehyung cooed.

"Fuck-yes, Jung-kook-please," you stuttered, far too drunk off his cock to even think straight. "Please, finish in my tight little pussy, it's all yours, my pussy is yours."

Jungkook let out a low guttural groan as he pressed himself deep into you, up to the hilt. His head dropped forward as he reached his climax.

"Fucking shit," he moaned as you felt his ropes shoot inside of you, jagged and pulsing. Jungkook painted your walls with his pleasure, his breath releasing in short pants and hisses as he fucked himself through his high.

You were entirely spent now, your body was limp and boneless, and you collapsed onto the bed by Taehyung's legs. Jungkook collapsed beside you at the foot of the bed, his length still buried inside of you.

The three of you lay on the bed, sprawled in every direction in silence, the only sound in the room was the panting and heavy breathing from both you and Jungkook. Taehyung's hand came up to pet your hair gently, stroking your head with a soft rub of his thumb.

He reached over for the water bottle he had brought you earlier on the nightstand and uncapped it again, bringing it to your lips. Your eyes fluttered open at the contact with the plastic bottle, and you opened your mouth slightly, allowing Taehyung to bottle feed you sips of water through heavy breaths.

"Good girl," he cooed. "Such a good girl."

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist again, holding you in close as his breathing returned to normal. He pressed sweet kisses along your shoulder, your back, your spine.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

Jungkook gently pulled himself out of you, the mix of your fluids dripping out onto the bedsheets. You covered your face in embarrassment, but Jungkook's hand came up to pull your wrist off.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

The shower turned on with a roar, the water pressure strong and thumping against the glass door already. Steam slowly began to fill the chamber, and Jungkook reached into the shower to test the temperature.

Taehyung was standing behind you, his hands rubbing up and down your arms possessively as he waited for the shower to warm up.

"It's good," Jungkook mumbled as he stepped in, and then turned to face you, his hand reaching out to help you in.

You stepped over the little step of the shower floor, joining Jungkook in the steamy chamber. The scent of eucalyptus and citrus filled your senses, the steam soothing your whole body almost instantly.

Taehyung stepped in behind you before he closed the door, the three of you standing impossibly close together. You were pinched between the two tall, muscular men, both of them facing you as their hands lazily explored your wet body.

"Sweet girl," Taehyung murmured into your ear, planting a kiss on the back of your neck. "Thanks for spending the night."

You nodded, and Jungkook tilted you up to face him with a finger on your chin. He grinned at you, lip ring twinkling under the potlight, before leaning in to press a sweet, soft kiss on your lips.

The two of them reached for the body wash that was mounted on the wall, each pumping twice, before lathering the soap in their hands. Jungkook then opened his hands towards you, his hands immediately gently gripping your breasts in his hand, giving them a soft squeeze as he began to spread the bubbly body wash across your body, massaging you as he cleaned you.

Taehyung followed suit, his hands firmly on your shoulders, massaging the tension out with his soapy hands before spreading the lather across your back, scrubbing gently and thoroughly down the length of your spine. You felt yourself melt at their touch, so intimate and loving.

"Mm, feels good," you sighed, your head dropping back onto Taehyung's shoulder.

"Yeah, she's sleepy," Jungkook said with a chuckle. "I'd be too."

You stood between them as they washed themselves, the scent of the bodywash making your head spin.

When all three of you were perfectly clean again, Taehyung reached around you and turned off the water before reaching out of the shower door to grab a towel. He stepped out first, wrapping the towel around his waist, before grabbing a second and third one, motioning for you to step out of the shower towards him. You did.

Jungkook stepped out of the shower behind you, and Taehyung handed him one of the towels. He wrapped it around his waist tightly before they both turned their focus back to you.

"Arms up," Taehyung said softly, and you lifted your arms over your head.

He wrapped the towel around your torso, tucking it in at the edge so it hung like a dress. Jungkook pressed the towel against your body, helping you dry yourself. Once you were comfortably wrapped up, Jungkook stepped towards the mirror, shaking his wet tendrils of hair around like a puppy dog. He collected another towel from the shelf to dry his hair.

You returned to the bed, sitting on the edge as Taehyung got dressed in front of you. He glanced at the clock on the wall.

10:04am.

"Jungkookie-ah, we gotta go soon."

"Yah," Jungkook called from inside the bathroom.

Taehyung turned back to look at you.

"We have late check out. You can nap here until we come back, if you want."

You were so sleepy, too blissed out to move. You nodded, giving him a weak smile as you let yourself lie back in bed.

Taehyung looked at you with a laugh before coming around the bed again, petting your head gently.

"Sleep well. We'll try to get ready quietly."

You nodded, already feeling half-asleep as you melted back into the pillows and blanket, the cool Egyptian cotton bundling you up so addictively.

You didn't realize you had drifted off to sleep until your eyes snapped open to the sound of a knock at the door.

"That's probably Hobi-hyung," Taehyung murmured, now fully dressed, with a pair of sunglasses sitting on his head, and his backpack over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm ready to go," Jungkook hummed, his hair fluffy and blow-dried, bare-faced and zipped up in a black hoodie.

"It was nice meeting you," Jungkook said, giving you a nod, his hands in his pockets. "Maybe when we're back in Vegas?" He gave you a wink.

You buried your face a little deeper into the blanket, the shyness returning.

"Yeah," you murmured, your mouth breaking into a wide smile.

Jungkook laughed, watching you fumble in your own shyness for a moment, before Taehyung nudged him by the shoulder.

"Come on, let's go," Taehyung urged. "They're all waiting for us."

Taehyung turned back to you with a little smirk.

"See you in a few hours."

And then the door opened and closed with a dull squeak and then a soft click, sealing you into this bubble of them, the twelve-hour whirlwind that you had found yourself in. You let your eyes flutter shut, the lingering smell of sweat and eucalyptus lulling you into what was going to be, possibly, the best sleep of your fucking life.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

i just blacked out and wrote this im missing out on precious sleep and i'm not proofreading it

bitch i need to touch grass!!!! ♡⃛

You snorted, reaching for your mug. “God, I hate him.”

Yoongi chewed, paused, then finally asked in his usual deadpan, “Is this the part where I remind you hate is just lust with unresolved paperwork?”

“I will set you on fire.”

He shrugged. “Fair. But your eyes twitch every time you say his name. That’s sexual tension, babe.”

You gave him a look. “Yoongi. He left raw chicken in the hallway last week. A whole tray. Just sitting there. Leaking.”

Yoongi finally cracked a grin. It was subtle. More of a twitch at the corner of his lips. “Protein offering to the garbage gods. He’s spiritual like that.”

You pointed a threatening finger at him. “Stop defending him. You own a convenience store. You’re legally not allowed to encourage biohazards.”

Yoongi took another bite of his burrito, unconcerned. “Legally, I’m only required to restock ramen and keep the ice cream freezer functional. Everything else is vibes.”

The man had a point.

You sighed and leaned your weight against the island, glancing at the stack of drafts you were supposed to be editing.

Your job at the magazine was chaos wrapped in cute fonts and pastel Excel sheets. But nothing came close to the ‘dumbbell stuck up his ass’ that lived in Apartment 7B across the hall.

Jeon Jungkook. Gym trainer. Problem. Possibly demon. Definitely the reason your hallway smelled like Febreze and sin on most days.

Two years of being neighbors and your mutual hatred had evolved like a Pokémon.

It started with him stealing your designated parking spot (that you paid for) and when you confronted him, he just leaned against his stupidly shiny car, looked you dead in the eye and said, “Oh, sorry princess. Want me to draw you another with a crayon?”—and it snowballed from there.

He played his music too loud. You once shut off the power to his unit from the maintenance panel in revenge. He retaliated by signing you up for daily protein shake samples. You retaliated harder by pretending to be his landlord and threatening eviction.

It was the ‘Cold War of Apartment 7A and 7B.’

Yoongi reached for his coffee lazily. “So. Still planning on throwing something at him?”

“If he breathes in my direction today, yeah.”

“Atta girl.”

You both moved toward the door, Yoongi gathering his things while humming something off-tune. He adjusted the beanie on his head, slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the front door—only to stop short.

You peered over his shoulder.

There he was.

Jeon Jungkook. In all his morning menace glory. Messy hair, black hoodie, shorts, mismatched socks, and three garbage bags clutched in his arms like he was hauling the corpses of his enemies.

He muttered under his breath as one of the bags slipped from his grip. “Stupid slippery bastard… who triple bags cat litter, what the hell…”

Yoongi raised a brow and didn’t move. “Who bit your ass this morning, darling?”

Jungkook froze mid-crouch. He looked up, eyes narrowing into slits as he caught both of you watching him from the doorway.

“What are you two staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a man take out the trash?” he snapped.

“Frequently. Just not one who is trash,” you said sweetly.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then he scowled. “You’re lucky I’m holding biohazard material or I’d throw hands.”

Yoongi tilted his head. “Oh no, not the kitty litter fists.”

Jungkook glared daggers. You gave him your best fake smile and shut the door.

Yoongi exhaled slowly. “God, I love that you live across from that. It’s like a sitcom that forgot it’s supposed to end.”

You laughed, locking the door behind you. “I don’t even need cable. I just need Jungkook to trip over his own ego.”

As you both headed down the stairs, Yoongi nudged your shoulder. “So. You gonna ask him out, or do I have to fake date you just to make him jealous?”

“I will pour instant coffee into your gas tank.”

He grinned. “Still not a no.”

Yoongi tossed his empty coffee cup into the passenger-side bin with practiced ease, then slumped into the passenger seat of your car like someone who had lost all will to fight gravity.

You followed right after, pulling your seatbelt across with a sigh that felt deeper than it should have for 9:22 a.m.

The car hummed to life with a soft growl as you pulled out of the parking spot—your parking spot, the one Jungkook had tried to illegally colonize like some smug, protein-packed explorer.

Yoongi leaned against the window, his breath fogging up the glass. “Okay, serious question.”

You glanced sideways. “This should be good.”

“Why don’t you just move?”

You frowned. “Move?”

“Yeah. New place, new hallway, fewer protein shakes showing up in your mailbox by ‘accident.’ I’ll help you find one. I’ve got connections. One of my regulars manages three buildings and owes me for letting him steal Snickers bars last year without judgment.”

You scoffed. “You also let that old lady shoplift gummy worms, so that’s a low bar.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Justice is selective.” Then, more seriously, “I’m serious. If it’s really eating at you, why stay?”

You kept your eyes on the road, fingers tightening just a bit on the wheel. “Because I’m not in the headspace to pack up my whole life and start somewhere else just because an asshat with an undercut doesn’t understand hallway etiquette.”

Yoongi gave a small hum of acknowledgment.

“That’s fair.”

A beat passed in silence. Then:

“He does have a pretty undercut, though.”

“I will drive us into a tree.”

“I said pretty. Not that I like it.” He paused. “Though, technically, I’d still be the hottest guy in your life.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin that snuck onto your face. “You’re literally held together by sarcasm and instant noodles.”

“And yet,” he said smugly, “still top-tier.”

You pulled up in front of his convenience store, parked sloppily, and leaned across to unlock the passenger door. He didn’t move immediately.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just tired.”

“Is that code for ‘Jungkook breathed too loud again’?”

“Always is.”

He gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, then stepped out with a dramatic grunt. “Go sell your soul to capitalism, sweetheart.”

“You too, king of overpriced gum.”

He shut the door with a wave, disappearing into the warm hum of flickering fluorescent lights and humming fridges. You took a second to breathe. Just a second. Then shifted gears and headed for your office.

---

Your magazine office sat in a modest building with pastel walls and vintage posters of outdated fashion ads. You made your way up the stairs with the kind of existential exhaustion only a Jungkook morning could trigger.

Inside, you were greeted by the smell of coffee, printer toner, and the sound of someone humming the chorus to a song that peaked in 2015.

And there he was.

Park Jimin.

Your work husband.

Your platonic soulmate.

Your partner-in-petty.

He was perched on the edge of your desk like a Barbie doll who somehow became human and was now judging your entire vibe. Dressed in a cream sweater tucked into slacks, his earrings sparkled like he was born with a Sephora loyalty card in his bloodstream.

“You look like sin and sleep deprivation,” he said without a hello.

You dropped your bag onto your chair. “Morning to you too, darling.”

He squinted. “Did the hallway demon haunt your dreams again?”

“If by ‘haunt’ you mean 'try to juggle garbage bags like a raccoon in gym shorts'—then yes.”

Jimin gave a high-pitched gasp, the kind that only meant one thing. “Jungkook?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do you sound excited?”

“I’m not,” he said way too fast. “Why would I be?”

You folded your arms. “Jimin.”

He picked at invisible lint on his sleeve. “Just because he’s a menace doesn’t mean he isn’t... well... extremely gym-toned. In a criminal kind of way.”

You grinned. “So you admit it. You want to climb him like a jungle gym.”

“I hate you,” he said, blushing to his ears. “Besides, I only met him once.”

“Exactly. That one time you dropped by my place, and he came knocking because he ‘lost’ his cat.”

Jimin pursed his lips. “That cat’s name was—what was it?”

“Punctures.”

“Right. Punctures. Because why name your pet something normal when you can choose dysfunctional.”

You sat down and opened your laptop. “To be fair, the cat did vanish and then reappear under my couch like a poltergeist.”

Jimin giggled. “And Jungkook had the audacity to look innocent while asking if you’d seen his 'angel boy’—as if the devil himself didn’t live in his abs.”

You shook your head, smiling despite the headache pulsing behind your temples. “I swear, even his cat has a superiority complex.”

Jimin leaned his chin on your desk. “So what did our muscle monster do today?”

You sighed dramatically. “Glaring. Garbage. Snarky princess jokes. And the usual refusal to acknowledge personal boundaries.”

Jimin twirled a pen between his fingers. “Sounds like a slow Tuesday.”

You both laughed, the kind of laughter that came from shared suffering.

He tilted his head and smiled softly. “You gonna be okay?”

“Eventually. Just gotta outlive him.”

Jimin raised a perfectly shaped brow. “You sure it’s hate and not the slow-burn-to-lovers pipeline?”

You gave him a look so withering it could melt paint. “Don’t start.”

He grinned. “Too late.”

The sound of a coffee cup being set down gently on the counter nearby pulled both you and Jimin from your spiraling commentary.

“Morning, angels,” came the deep, honey-smooth voice that never failed to send a jolt right through your central nervous system.

Kim Taehyung.

Tall, devastatingly pretty, with a face sculpted like someone up there was in a very good mood when they made him. Loose white shirt tucked into black pants, a chain around his neck that glittered in the morning light, and that signature sleepy smile that had ruined your last three office meetings.

You straightened up a little in your seat. Not enough to be obvious. Just… respectable.

Jimin, of course, caught it immediately. He turned his head slowly toward you, smirking like the traitor he was.

“Hey, Tae,” you said, doing your best to sound cool and casual. “You’re in early.”

Taehyung gave a lazy shrug as he set down a file on his desk. “Wanted to get a few things sorted. Also, the coffee here is stronger than my will to live.”

Jimin clapped his hands. “That makes all three of us.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicked back to you. “By the way, I meant to ask—do you have a minute later? I need help checking some layouts for the travel section. Thought of you immediately. You’ve got an eye for aesthetics.”

You blinked once. Twice. “Oh. Yeah. Sure. I can make time after lunch.”

He smiled again. Slow. Soft. A little smug. “Perfect. I’ll owe you one.”

Jimin wiggled his eyebrows behind him, mouthing, “Eye for aesthetics, huh?” You barely resisted the urge to kick him under the desk.

As Taehyung opened his laptop and began clicking through tabs, he added, almost absentmindedly, “Oh, and I’ll be on leave the day after tomorrow. Just two days. I’m moving into a new place. Need to set everything up.”

You looked up. “Oh yeah? Where to?”

“Same building I’m already in,” he said, sipping his coffee. “But I’m moving into a different unit. One of the tenants is looking for a roommate. Said he’s got a spare room.”

“Nice,” you replied, a little distracted by the image of Taehyung with moving boxes. Sleeves rolled up. Hair messy. Probably with a pencil behind his ear and a couch stubbornly stuck in the hallway. “Hope your new roommate’s not a serial killer.”

Taehyung laughed. “If he is, I just hope he’s polite about it.”

Jimin tilted his head. “What unit is it?”

Taehyung paused for a second. “Uhh. Seven... B, I think?”

You and Jimin froze at the same time.

But only Jimin’s eyes widened in realization. Yours were still catching up.

“Seven B?” you repeated slowly, the number not quite settling in your head yet. “That sounds... familiar.”

Taehyung nodded. “Apparently it’s a gym trainer dude. Said the last roommate moved out because of a job shift or something.”

You blinked again. “Gym trainer...”

Taehyung smiled. “Jungkook, I think his name was?”

You choked on air. Jimin let out a snort so violent it sounded like a dying kettle.

“Wait. You’re moving in with Jungkook?” you asked, your voice rising just slightly.

Taehyung looked amused. “Yeah. Why? You know him?”

Jimin slapped a hand over his mouth, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You stared blankly, brain short-circuiting.

“I know him,” you said slowly. “He’s my neighbor.”

Taehyung blinked. “Oh. Small world.”

You forced a smile. “Yeah. Tiny. Cramped. Suffocating, even.”

He tilted his head. “Should I be worried?”

You waved a hand. “No. Not unless you enjoy your hallway smelling like pre-workout and passive aggression.”

Taehyung grinned. “Sounds like a party.”

Jimin leaned in close to your ear, voice hushed but gleeful. “Oh, this is going to be *so good.*”

You groaned. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

The day of Taehyung’s move-in came faster than you expected.

You had already told Yoongi two days before, while standing behind the counter at his store. His only response had been a muttered, “Jesus,” followed by a five-minute rant about karma having a personal grudge against you.

What you did ignore less was how you and Jungkook had not mentioned it. Not once. Not in the elevator. Not during that brief moment last night when he passed you in the hallway carrying a carton of eggs like it personally offended him.

Not even when you both reached for the same packet of garbage bags in the building supply closet and nearly ripped it in half out of mutual pettiness.

Radio silence.

Jimin, of course, had no such filter.

“Oh you’re cooked,” he’d giggled, doubled over beside the office printer, one manicured hand on your shoulder. “He’s going to walk into your life every morning smelling like Jungkook and testosterone and you’re gonna suffer. I’m gonna make popcorn.”

You flipped him off and changed the subject.

Now you were combusting for real.

Taehyung was holding a box, arms flexed with the effort, veins visible under his skin like the universe had turned up the detail settings just to mess with you. His hair was slightly damp from the heat outside, and there was a little smile on his lips like moving into a potential frat-boy war zone didn’t faze him at all.

He looked like a painting.

And he was standing right in front of Jungkook’s open apartment door.

You were officially the main character in your own nightmare.

“Need help with that?” you blurted before your brain could intercept.

Taehyung grinned. “I would never say no to help from a beautiful woman.”

You wanted to melt. Or combust. Or vanish into the drywall.

Unfortunately, none of those things happened.

Instead, you took a careful step closer, mentally rehearsing a facial expression that didn’t scream please notice me instead of the loud man you’re about to share a couch with.

“Big box,” you said.

“Big arms,” Taehyung replied, flexing slightly with a smirk that bordered on criminal.

Your gaze dropped.

You regretted it immediately.

Taehyung’s biceps were straining against his t-shirt, golden skin glowing under the building’s hallway light. He adjusted the box, muscles shifting and pulling like they had absolutely no business being attached to a man who alphabetized his playlists.

You blinked. The trance broke.

Because just then, the temperature dropped about ten degrees.

And Jeon Jungkook walked out of his apartment.

Sweatpants. Tight black tank top.

Hair messy. Eyes sharper than broken glass.

He looked between you and Taehyung.

His gaze landed on you.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked.

Not hi. Not oh look, it’s my hallway nemesis. Just that.

Your spine straightened on instinct.

“Helping,” you said.

“Helping,” he echoed, tone skeptical. “You two know each other?”

You opened your mouth. Taehyung beat you to it.

“Yeah,” he said brightly. “We work together. She’s the only person in editorial who doesn’t make me want to scream. Well, most of the time.”

Your stomach twisted.

Jungkook tilted his head.

“That’s sweet,” he said, voice pure sarcasm. “Real heartwarming.”

Taehyung blinked once, glancing between you and Jungkook. Something flickered behind his smile. Curiosity. Maybe suspicion. But he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll go put this down,” he said instead, slipping into the apartment with his box, leaving the two of you in the hallway.

He turned and disappeared into the apartment, leaving you and Jungkook in the hallway. Alone.

You didn’t speak.

He didn’t either.

You stared at each other like two chess players silently daring the other to make the first move.

Then your eyes flicked downward. Black tank. Veins. Shoulders. Everything about him was tight and firm and unfair. Even the sweatpants were offensive. Your gaze lingered a little too long.

You realized it too late.

His mouth twitched. “You checking me out, neighbor?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it gave you a headache. “Please. I was debating whether or not your face has always been that punchable.”

He took a step closer.

You didn’t move.

Another step.

Now he was right in front of you. You could smell his body wash and the faintest trace of aftershave and probably your impending doom.

He leaned down slightly, voice low and sharp. “Stay away from him.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you anywhere near my roommate. I don’t want you bringing over baked goods, I don’t want you giving him your tragic little smiles. Just—don’t.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he said. “Or maybe you’re just desperate enough to bounce to the next set of arms that walk by.”

Your jaw tightened. “At least he doesn’t slam doors at 2 a.m. and treat the hallway like a personal wrestling mat.”

“At least he doesn’t leave three-day-old Pad Thai in the trash chute.”

“That was one time.”

“Try four.”

The air crackled. You hadn’t even realized how close you were until your shoulders touched. Your breath hitched. His eyes flicked to your mouth.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re actually insane. It’s not like that. I would rather step on a plug barefoot than flirt with your roommate.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because you were staring at his arms like you were about to crawl inside his ribcage and live there.”

Your nostrils flared. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize you were monitoring my eyeballs now.”

He tilted his head. “I notice things. Like how you get real quiet when someone hotter than me walks by.”

You shoved his shoulder. “You are not my type.”

He didn’t move. “No?”

“Not even close.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not—oh my god—”

“Get a life,” you snapped, storming into your apartment and slamming the door shut behind you.

Jungkook’s voice called faintly through the wall.

“Enjoy your view, sweetheart!”

You flipped off the air and screamed into a cushion.

Jimin was right.

you were going to combust.

It had been four days since Taehyung moved in.

And somehow, in that painfully short span of time, your life had managed to go from mildly annoying to biblical plague levels of emotionally unstable.

Every morning was a personal test of endurance.

Because every morning — without fail — you saw him.

Not Jungkook.

The other him.

Kim Taehyung.

Your coworker. Your walking Greek statue of a crush. Your poetic little mistake-in-the-making.

Now also: Your neighbor. Your hallway torment. Your reason for walking out of your apartment in sunglasses and a moral crisis.

It always happened the same way. You’d step out of your apartment with your tote bag slung over your shoulder, caffeine-deprived and already regretting existence — only to find him standing there in front of 7B’s door. Half-zipped hoodie, tousled hair, coffee in hand, eyes crinkling with that boyish smile that made your IQ drop about 20 points.

“Morning,” he’d greet, voice low and warm and just slightly flirty. The kind of tone that made your stomach twist and your dignity combust.

You’d wave. Maybe mumble back something like “Hey” or “Morning,” which sounded perfectly normal until you replayed it ten minutes later and realized you had smiled like an idiot and then walked into the elevator wall.

Today was no different.

You opened your door just as Taehyung did, and you had exactly three seconds to prepare yourself.

Too late.

His hair was damp. Still wet from a shower. A few strands clung to his forehead. He was wearing grey sweats — criminal — and a dark green shirt that looked very lived in and very illegal.

“Morning,” he said again, all casual confidence, like he hadn’t just appeared in slow motion with soft lighting and background music that only played in your personal hell.

You gave him a tight smile. “Hey.”

He glanced at his phone, then at you. “You heading to the office?”

“Yep.”

He shifted his coffee to his other hand. “Want to go together? I’ve got my car downstairs. I don’t mind driving.”

Your heart stuttered. Your brain did not process that like a normal human.

“No, it’s fine,” you said too fast, waving him off. “I like walking. It keeps me humble.”

He blinked, amused. “Humble?”

“Yeah. You know. Reminds me that life is a grind. Makes me less likely to throw myself at anyone with biceps.”

He chuckled. “Noted.”

You internally screamed.

He smiled at you again — that gentle, warm smile like he didn’t know he’d just offered a ride to a person actively trying to avoid developing a full-blown obsession.

You nodded at him. “See you at work.”

Then you turned and practically ran for the stairs.

⸻

By the time you got outside, you were out of breath — from the stairs, sure, but mostly from holding in a scream.

This was hell. Not a metaphorical one. Actual, emotional hell. You had a man with the face of a Renaissance painting asking if you wanted a ride to work and you said no because his roommate was a protein-fueled menace with an attitude problem and a jawline that could cut glass.

You were unwell. And possibly cursed.

You stared at your reflection in the building’s front door as you adjusted your jacket.

Your hair was frizzy. Your shirt had a weird crease.

You looked like someone who had definitely turned down hot guy carpooling due to unresolved neighbor trauma.

Worse — Taehyung was so genuinely nice it made everything worse.

You couldn’t even be mad at him for existing.

You were just mad that the universe had the audacity to shove him into Jungkook’s apartment like it was a sitcom plot twist.

And now you had to play it cool at the office.

Pretend like you hadn’t just seen the man who made you physically dizzy.

Pretend like Jimin wasn’t going to read your whole energy the moment he laid eyes on you.

Pretend like you didn’t still hear Jungkook’s voice from four nights ago when he muttered, “Stay away from him.”

You shut your eyes and whispered to yourself as you crossed the street:

“Thirst is temporary. Pride is forever. Thirst is temporary. Pride is for—”

A car honked. You almost walked into a light pole.

Cool. Great start to the day.

⸻

Next stop: your office. And you already knew Jimin was going to have opinions.

But right now, you had bigger things to survive: your crush. Your enemy. And the very thin walls that separated them.

⸻

You had just finished rewriting a sentence for the seventh time when the door to the office flew open with the kind of dramatic flair usually reserved for K-pop finales and divine interventions.

Park Jimin walked in like he owned the place.

Technically, he didn’t.

But spiritually? Emotionally? In terms of ‘vibe authority’?

Absolutely.

“Guess who overslept because someone set my alarm to Taylor Swift’s All Too Well ten-minute version and I thought it was a dream sequence?” he announced to no one in particular.

You looked up just in time to catch him tossing his bag onto his chair like a runway model doing the emotional baggage walk.

“Jimin,” you deadpanned, “do you have any idea how quiet and terrifying it is here without you?”

He gave you a pitying look. “Did you miss me? Or did your internal monologue get tired of monologuing alone?”

“Both,” you muttered, then glanced at his outfit. “Also, why do you look like a Pinterest board for fall romance?”

He struck a pose, dramatically adjusting his oversized sweater. “Because heartbreak is couture. And also because I live with crippling main character syndrome.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother hiding your smile.

He plopped into his chair and sighed, dramatically, as if simply existing in a capitalist world was too much effort.

Then he looked at you.

Really looked at you.

Head tilted.

Eyes narrowing.

You braced for it.

“I know that face,” he said slowly. “That’s your ‘I’ve just had an internal crisis and am pretending I haven’t’ face.”

You blinked innocently. “I do not have a crisis face.”

“Oh, honey,” he scoffed. “You have a gallery of crisis faces.”

You opened your mouth to respond — but of course, he wasn’t done.

“So.” He leaned in conspiratorially, elbows on the desk like a gossiping oracle. “What happened? Did the hallway himbo say something dumb again? Did his tank top offend your moral compass? Did you finally snap and throw a protein shake at his head?”

You stared at your screen, debating how much to share.

Jimin stared at you. “Is this about Taehyung?”

Your eye twitched. “Why would it be?”

“Oh my god.” He gasped. “It is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

You groaned and dropped your head into your hands. “I am going to spontaneously combust.”

Jimin clapped his hands like a delighted psychic. “See? This is why I come to work. Forget my salary. This is entertainment.”

You peeked at him through your fingers. “You know he offered to drive me to work today?”

Jimin’s jaw dropped. “And you said…?”

“I said no.”

He gasped like you had personally slapped him with a designer shoe. “You said no to Taehyung? Are you okay? Did Jungkook give you a lobotomy?”

You groaned louder. “I said no because he’s Jungkook’s roommate. It’s complicated.”

Jimin paused.

And then — he smiled.

It was the kind of smile that meant something deeply chaotic was about to leave his mouth.

“So, speaking of your protein-powered hallway nemesis…”

You straightened. “What about him?”

“I saw him this morning.”

Your stomach did a thing it had no right to do. “Where?”

“Corner café. With someone.”

You blinked. “A girl?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Could’ve been a relative. Could’ve been a situationship. Could’ve been his tax accountant.”

You tried not to react. You really did.

But Jimin saw right through you.

“Ooooh,” he sang, tapping his chin. “That’s the face of someone who does not, in fact, hate Jungkook as much as she claims.”

You turned slowly toward him. “If you don’t stop talking in dramatic one-liners, I’m going to stab you with my clicky pen.”

He gasped. “Violence? In this economy?”

You huffed and sat back in your chair, arms crossed.

And then, quietly: “Do you think he was on a date?”

Jimin didn’t answer immediately.

He studied you — not playfully this time. Not teasing.

Then he leaned in again, voice softer. “Do you want him to be?”

You hated that the question made your heart stutter.

You didn’t know.

You weren’t supposed to care.

You were supposed to loathe him — passionately, poetically, completely.

But lately…

You were starting to wonder if hate and want had ever really been that different.

Jimin smiled gently, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then looked away.

“I don’t know what I’m in,” you admitted.

Jimin leaned back, arms folded. “Well, whatever it is — it’s gonna be messy.”

You laughed under your breath. “Aren’t all the best stories?”

He winked. “Especially when they involve a man with biceps and unresolved emotional repression.”

—-

You should’ve been relieved to leave the office.

End of day. Done with deadlines. Done with pointless meetings and coworkers who typed with the aggression of war generals. The city lights were dimming outside your windshield as you sat in the driver’s seat, hands limp on the steering wheel, waiting for your thoughts to shut up.

But they didn’t.

Because somewhere between replying to emails and dodging Park Jimin’s painfully accurate psychoanalysis, your brain had quietly entered panic mode.

About one person.

Again.

Jungkook.

You sighed, pressing your head back against the headrest as your reflection stared back at you from the rearview mirror — tired eyes, lips pressed, the faintest wrinkle forming between your brows.

Why were you so… preoccupied?

It had been a year.

A whole year of this bizarre dance between you and him.

You’d moved into that apartment across from 7B assuming the worst part would be the creaky plumbing and fluorescent hallway lighting.

You were wrong.

The worst part was the man next door.

Jeon Jungkook.

Infuriating. Loud. Built like a Greek tragedy with a protein shake addiction.

And yet — you noticed when he wasn’t around. You replayed arguments. You saw his stupid smirk in your sleep.

why him?

Why now?

You leaned your head against the driver’s seat for a second before putting your keys into the ignition, sighing hard through your nose like that might settle the ache in your chest.

You’d gone a whole day without seeing him — and that should’ve been a good thing.

It wasn’t.

And it wasn’t just him either. There was… Taehyung.

Your new neighbor. Your new problem. Gorgeous, charming, too-pretty-for-this-world Taehyung, who moved into Jungkook’s apartment just yesterday and already fluttered something inside you that you weren’t ready to name.

Was that what this was?

The sudden awareness?

Was it because the man across the hall who once irritated you into oblivion now had a new variable in your life? A second heartbeat you could hear through the wall?

You weren’t sure.

You hated that you weren’t sure.

One thing you did know: Jungkook hadn’t crossed your mind like this before. At least not with this much force. Not with this twist in your stomach or the echo of his voice running laps in your head.

You pulled into the lot, a little more irritable than when you’d left the office. The lights from the building flickered against your windshield. You killed the engine and stepped out with a sigh, bag slung over your shoulder like it was dragging you down more than it should.

Your phone buzzed.

“At your place. You better have snacks or I’m stealing your toaster.”

Yoongi. You blinked. Right. He had a spare key.

Of course he did.

Why wouldn’t your grumpy part-time philosopher best friend just materialize inside your apartment like a cryptic raccoon?

You started typing back a dry “i just arrived, donut demon” but you weren’t really looking where you were going.

You stepped inside.

The doors closed.

And then your stomach dropped.

Because something felt… off.

The air. The silence. The way your skin prickled like something was just behind you.

You turned slowly.

There he was.

Jungkook.

Hood up, arms folded across his chest, standing in the back of the elevator like he lived for dramatic re-entrances into your life.

You screamed.

He blinked at you, deadpan. “Really?”

You backed up into the corner. “What— why are you everywhere?!”

He raised a brow. “I live here.”

“You— you could’ve said something!”

“I figured you had eyes,” he said flatly. “That was my mistake.”

You gritted your teeth. “Are you stalking me?”

“Are you serious?”

You glared, shifting as far away from him as physically possible in a 4x4 metal box. “I need to start carrying holy water.”

He rolled his eyes. “And I need to start using the stairs.”

You went silent. So did he.

The space between you was heavy. Awkward. Breathing felt like effort.

You focused on the elevator buttons, staring at the glowing floor numbers like they were responsible for your heart rate. You’d never been this aware of another person’s presence before — like his heat was something crawling up your spine.

Why is he everywhere lately?

Why does his silence feel so loud?

Why do I care if I don’t care?

You bit your lip.

Jungkook cleared his throat.

And then — just like that — everything went dark.

The elevator stopped.

The hum of motion halted.

The overhead lights flickered once… and went out.

You froze.

Silence.

Heavy, solid silence.

Then:

“…did that really just happen?” he asked.

You blinked into the dark. “Shit.”

You fumbled for your phone, immediately unlocking it.

“Texting your emotional support cryptid?” he asked dryly.

“Yes,” you snapped. “Yoongi’s in my apartment.”

“Convenient.”

You didn’t answer. Because in the next moment — the elevator jolted.

The floor dipped. The walls creaked. You lurched forward on instinct, a breath caught in your throat as your weight shifted.

Straight into Jungkook.

His arms caught you fast — steady, firm — one hand on your waist, the other instinctively braced against your back.

You were pressed up against him.

Warm.

Solid.

Too close.

You both didn’t move. Breaths uneven. Chests rising and falling in tandem.

You couldn’t see much. Just outlines. Shadows.

But you knew exactly where his face was.

Exactly how close his lips were to yours.

His hold didn’t loosen. And for a second, you didn’t want him to.

“…Let go,” you whispered, unsure if you meant it.

His voice came low. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Still, he didn’t let go.

The elevator was dead still.

You could feel his breath.

You could hear his heart.

It was… steady. Strong.

You felt small. But not weak.

“You don’t need to hold me like that,” you said, barely a whisper.

“Like what?” he murmured.

“Like i’ll break.”

“You won’t,” he said, almost too fast.

You almost laughed. “That sounded real convincing.”

“I could say the same to you,” he muttered. “You’re still in my arms.”

You hesitated. “Because I was about to fall.”

“And now?”

You didn’t answer.

And he didn’t move.

The silence thickened again — not awkward this time. Tense. Loud.

You knew this moment would stick. The kind of moment that lived in your bloodstream long after it passed.

And then — without a word — his hand slid up slightly.

Not invasive. Just deliberate.

His fingers brushed the side of your arm — slow, cautious — like he was trying to memorize something. A shape. A feeling.

You swallowed. “Why are you—?”

Before you could finish, the lights flickered.

The elevator shuddered once.

And then — it moved.

The hum returned. The floor number ticked up. The weight of what just happened hit both of you all at once.

You pulled away first.

Too fast. Too guilty.

He didn’t say anything.

Neither did you.

When the doors opened, you didn’t wait.

You walked out like your shoes were on fire. Practically sprinting down the hallway toward your apartment, your heart thudding too fast, your thoughts screaming over one another.

You opened the door, slammed it behind you, and pressed your back to it like you could keep the feelings out that way.

Yoongi sat on your couch, hoodie half-zipped, a bag of chips open in his lap.

He didn’t even look up.

“Who licked your brain?” he asked flatly.

You didn’t answer.

You just stood there — dizzy, breathless, and one wrong word away from combusting.