#viralfic

Your heart hammered against your ribs, and antiseptic burning the back of your throat. Keonho’s voice still echoed in your ears from the telephone call just few minutes prior.

"Y/N, come straight away. Jungkook... he had a dreadful accident. He’s at Seoul National Hospital. Do hurry."

You sprinted through the heavy glass doors of the casualty wing, your breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps. But as you rounded the corner toward the corridor, your feet froze flat.The entire Jeon family was already there.They occupied the private waiting area.

At the centre sat Helena Jeon, Mrs. Jeon, her usual pristine elegance completely shattered. She was weeping bitterly into a lace handkerchief, her shoulders trembling as Mr. Jeon stood rigid beside her. His face was a mask of stone, his hands gripped tightly behind his back, though the tight clenching of his jaw betrayed his utter terror.

Further down the hall, Suho paced back and forth. Beside him stood Rebecca, entirely composed, her arms folded as she stared at the closed double doors of the operating theatre with a look that wasn't grief, it was pure calculation.

You stood rooted to the spot a few feet away from them. You felt entirely like an outsider looking into a fortress. The sheer weight of their wealth and influence felt suffocating, and the sudden horror of losing Jungkook left you completely numbed.

"Y/N!" A sharp voice broke. You looked up to see Keonho running toward you. He didn't look a bit like the carefree, flirtatious playboy right now. His eyes were wide with genuine panic. Before you could even utter a word, Keonho reached you, his hands instantly gripping your shoulders to steady your trembling frame.

"Thank goodness you're here," he breathed out, "Listen to me. It's a proper mess. The motor... it rolled right over. They are operating on his spine this very moment.”

The strength drained entirely from your body. The horror of Keonho's words hit you, and you burst into tears, your knees giving out completely. If Keonho hadn't caught your waist, you would have collapsed onto the hard hospital floor. He held you up, his grip tight and surprisingly grounding as you sobbed against his shoulder.

Mrs Helena Jeon lowered her damp handkerchief, her tear stained face hardening as she looked at you. "Who is that girl?" Mrs Jeon demanded, "What is she doing making such a scene here?"

Rebecca stepped forward smoothly. She adjusted her diamond bracelet, thoroughly enjoying the moment. "That is Y/N, Mother. She is Jungkook’s... girlfriend."

"What?" Mrs Jeon’s voice rose. "Jungkook’s girlfriend? From what family? What does her father do?"

Rebecca chuckled. "Oh, nothing of the sort, Mother. Her father is a florist. Her mother runs a small cafe just beside it. And the girl herself? She’s still a mere student."

Mrs Jeon looked absolutely thunderstruck, her hand flying to her chest as if she might faint from the sheer scandal of it. "A florist? A cafe? My son... a Jeon... associated with a girl like that? Has he lost his mind?"

"Helena! Enough!" Mr Jeon’s booming voice shattered the whispers. The Chairman stepped between his wife and the rest of the hall, his eyes blazing with a mixture of terrifying authority and deep pain.

"How can you stand there and carry on with this nonsense?" Mr Jeon snapped, his gaze drilling into his wife. "Your son is inside that theatre fighting for his life, and you are standing in a public corridor calculating family status? Have you no shame, woman?"

Mrs Jeon shrank back slightly, silenced by her husband's wrath, while Suho quickly looked away, pretending to be occupied with his mobile receiver. Keonho ignored them all, keeping his arm securely around your waist as he gently guided your shaking frame to a nearby bench. But as he leaned over you, his eyes didn't look toward the operating theatre. They were fixed entirely on your face, dark and unreadable.

The hands of the hospital clock crawled forward with agonizing slowness. Three hours bled into four. Finally, the sharp click of the operating theatre doors shattered the stillness. The chief surgeon stepped out, pulling off his surgical mask, his face lined with deep exhaustion.The entire family rushed forward, crowding around him. You stood a few paces back, your hands tightly clasped, barely breathing.

"Mr and Mrs Jeon," the doctor began, his voice solemn. "We have managed to stabilise your son. His life is no longer in danger."A collective sigh of relief echoed through the hall, but the doctor raised a hand, his expression darkening. "However... the trauma to his lower spine was severe. The lumbar vertebrae are badly crushed. I am terribly sorry, but the paralysis is permanent. Jungkook will never walk again."

The words shattered everything. Mrs Jeon let out a choked cry, burying her face in her hands, while Suho and Rebecca look down. Keonho stood entirely still, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.

Another two hours passed before a nurse finally informed the family that Jungkook was waking from the anaesthesia. Without a second thought, Mr and Mrs Jeon, Suho, and Rebecca pushed past the door, eager to see him. You followed slowly, your feet feeling like lead, stopping right at the threshold. You leaned against the doorframe, your heart breaking as you looked inside.

Jungkook looked devastatingly pale against the white hospital sheets, a row of monitors beeping softly beside his bed. He looked exhausted, but his dark eyes were wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling as his mother wept at his bedside.

Suddenly, Mr Jeon turned around. He looked at his family crowding the bed, then his gaze landed directly on you, standing small and hesitant by the door. The Chairman’s expression softened ever so slightly.

"Girl," Mr Jeon called out, his deep voice cutting through his wife's sobbing. "Come here." At the sound of his father's voice, Jungkook’s head turned slowly on the pillow. His gaze bypassed his mother, his brother, and Rebecca entirely, locking instantly onto you.

At the mere sight of you, and Jungkook sob racked his chest, heavy tears that tracked rapidly down his pale face. The sight of his tears wiped away all your hesitation, you rushed across the room. You wrap your arms gently around his neck. Jungkook instantly tore his hand free from his mother’s tight grasp, reaching up with trembling, desperate fingers to clutch at your jacket. He buried his face deep into the crook of your shoulder, his broad frame shaking as he held onto you like a lifeline.

"Get your hands off my son!" Mrs Helena Jeon suddenly shouted as she stepped forward, her hand lunging out to pull you away by your arm. "Who are you? Move away from him this instant!"

But Jungkook’s grip on you only tightened. He pulled you even closer against his chest, completely refusing to let you go. He shifted his head slightly to glare at his mother with an anger that shocked her into silence. You didn't care who was watching anymore. The entire universe had shrunk down to just the two of you in this hospital room.

"You absolute fool," you scolded him softly, your own tears spilling over as you gripped his shoulders, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and terror. "How could you do this to me? I was so terribly frightened, do you hear me? You promised to be careful!"

But even as you scolded him, your hands moved gently to cup his pale face. You began pressing soft, comforting kisses all over his cheeks, his forehead, and his eyelids, wiping away his tears with your thumbs. "I'm here, kookie. I'm right here. I love you, and I am never going to leave you."

Suddenly, the cold reality of the room rushed back over you. You froze. Realising exactly where you were and whose eyes were boring holes into your back, you gently disentangled yourself from his embrace. You wiped your wet cheeks with the back of your hand and stepped back a pace, keeping your eyes lowered out of respect to let his parents approach.

"Oh, my poor, darling boy," Rebecca suddenly chimed in, her voice dripping with an agonizingly sweet, dramatic sympathy. She glided past Mrs Jeon, stepping right up to the bedside with her hands clasped over her heart.

"What a dreadful, shocking tragedy. To think of you like this our bright, capable Jungkook, confined to a chair. Don't you worry for a single moment, dear. Suho and I will look after the estate. We shall manage everything so you don't have to lift a finger in your condition."

A sharp, mocking scoff cut through her performance. Keonho was leaning heavily against the footboard of the bed. He didn't even look at Rebecca as he let out a low, bitter chuckle.

"Do tone it down a bit, sister in law," Keonho said, "You’ll give the boy a headache with that theatrical nonsense. The tissue isn't even damp." Rebecca’s sympathetic smile vanished for a fraction of a second, her jaw tightening as she shot Keonho a lethal glare. Suho stepped forward, his face flushing with irritation at his younger brother's insolence.

"Keep your mouth shut, Keonho," Suho snapped sharply. "Some of us are actually thinking about the family's future."

A few days passed, It was a quiet afternoon when you found yourself alone in the private suite with him. Jungkook was resting back against the propped up pillows, his eyes closed in a light snooze.

Moving with utmost care, you dipped a soft cloth into warm water and began gently wiping his face. The door open without a knock. You turned your head to see Keonho strolling into the room.

In his hand, he held a sandwich. "Still playing the dedicated nurse, I see," Keonho drawled softly. He stepped right up to the opposite side of the bed, looking down at you.

Without a shred of hesitation, he broke off a small piece of the bread and offered it directly to your lips. "Here. You look like you haven't eaten a proper meal in days."

You leaned forward and took the bite from his fingers, chewing quietly. But as you pulled back, a tiny smudge of mayonnaise remained on the corner of your bottom lip. Before you could even reach for a napkin, Keonho’s hand moved with lightning speed.

His thumb brushed firmly against your lower lip, wiping the stray condiment away. Your eyes widened in sudden shock, your breath catching in your throat. But before you could utter a sound or pull away, Keonho brought his thumb back to his own lips and licked it. His eyes locked onto your. Without a word of explanation, Keonho smoothly pulled up a chair and sat down right beside you, resting his elbows on his knees. He offered you a lazy, unreadable smirk, as if the dangerous boundary he had just crossed was nothing more than a casual game.

Four long weeks blurred. You spent every single hour at Jungkook’s bedside, learning how to assist him, fluffing his pillows, and keeping the suffocating shadow of his family’s pity at bay. Today, at long last, the doctors were finally discharging him to return to the Jeon mansion.

You sat on the edge of the mattress. Jungkook sat propped up against the pillows, his hair a bit longer now, his eyes tracking your every movement with a quiet, devoted intensity. Reaching out, you gently cupped his handsome face with both hands, leaning in to press soft, lingering kisses all over his cheeks, his forehead, and the bridge of his nose.

"Listen to me carefully, Jungkook," you whispered, "I love you so much. From the very first day we met until this exact moment, I have only ever loved you. My feelings for you haven't changed one single bit, and they never, ever will. Do you understand me?"

Before he could answer, you reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch. With trembling fingers, you drew out a ring, it was small, modest, and simple compared to the towering diamonds his family flaunted, but it was beautiful.

It was everything you had saved for.Holding it out between you, you looked directly into his eyes. "Marry me, Jungkook."

Jungkook’s breath caught, his eyes widening as he looked from the silver band up to your face. A profound, aching sadness washed over his features, and he gently took your wrists, his large hands warm but incredibly fragile.

"Darling... look at me," Jungkook murmured, his voice cracking as a single tear escaped his eye. "Look at my legs. I am no longer whole. I can't even stand to hold you. I’m not perfect anymore... I’m a broken man. How can I let you tie your beautiful life to a seat like this?"

"Don't you dare say that to me," you whispered fiercely, your own tears spilling over as you tightened your grip on his hands. "You are not less, Jungkook. Not to me. Never to me. I am doing this because I love you, the brilliant, gentle, beautiful soul inside you. Your legs don't define who you are, and they certainly don't define my love for you."

Jungkook stared at you, his chest heaving as your words tore down the final walls of his insecurity. The utter devotion in your eyes completely disarmed him. A breathtaking smile, raw and full of pure adoration, finally broke across his pale face. He squeezed your wrists, pulling you closer until your foreheads rested against each other.

"I love you more, sweetheart," Jungkook murmured, "God, I love you so much. Of course I'll marry you. A thousand times, yes."

Without waiting another second, you slid the beautiful silver band onto his finger. It fit perfectly. Jungkook reached up, his hands anchoring behind your neck, and pulled you down into a deep, desperate kiss. It was a kiss full of promises, sealing your fates together right there in the quiet hospital room.

The evening sun was dipping below the horizon, as the grand motorcars arrived to transport Jungkook back to the estate. The entire family had gathered in his private suite, their presence packing the room with an uncomfortable, stuffy tension.

Jungkook sat upright in his new, polished wheelchair. You standing behind him. As the family finished gathering his belongings, he deliberately raised his left hand, resting it flat on the armrest so the simple silver band caught the overhead lights.

"Before we leave for the house, I have something to tell you all. Y/N proposed to me this morning. We are getting married."

"Have you completely lost your senses, boy?" Mrs Helena Jeon suddenly erupted, her voice shrill with immediate disgust. She took a step toward her son, "She only wants your money, Jungkook! She’s a commoner sniffing around a fortune. Look at that cheap little thing on your finger! I will find you a proper girl, a better girl from a family that actually matters."

Jungkook’s brow furrowed into a deep, icy frown. His eyes narrowed at his mother, his jaw clenching tightly. "My choices are my own, Mother. Do not insult my fiancée."

Rebecca stepped forward smoothly, a passive aggressive smile firmly in place as she tilted her head. "Oh, darling, Mom is only looking out for you. A man in your... delicate situation needs a woman who can handle high society, not a little student who belongs in a flower shop."

"Listen to them, brother," Suho chimed in, crossing his arms glaring aggressively at you. "She isn't one of us. She doesn't belong in our world. You’re acting out of desperation because of your legs, but you must think of the Jeon name."

Mr Jeon stepped forward. He looked at Jungkook’s determined face, then turned his gaze over to you, noting how fiercely you stood right behind the wheelchair, ready to defend him against the wolves.

"Jungkook," Mr Jeon spoke up, his tone surprisingly soft. "Do you love this girl?"

"With all my heart, Father," Jungkook answered without a shred of hesitation.Mr Jeon gave a firm, single nod of approval. "Then I am perfectly content. If she is the one who keeps you whole, she has my blessing. The rest of you will hold your tongues."

Mrs Jeon gasped in horror, and Suho's face flushed red with irritation. But the loudest reaction came from the back of the room. Keonho brutally kicked a chair out of his path. His face was a mask of dark, unreadable fury, his knuckles white as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Without uttering a single word to his parents, his brothers, or to you, he spun on his heel, marched out into the corridor, and slammed the heavy door shut so hard the glass panels rattled in their frames.

Suna Rintarou was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he'd have told you if you'd asked him a month ago. He didn't get worked up over much of anything — not over Atsumu's teasing, not over losing at Mario Kart, not even over Osamu eating the last onigiri he'd been saving for after practice. He drifted through most of life with the same half-lidded, unbothered expression, like nothing was worth the energy of caring loudly.

So when he found himself standing in your kitchen at eleven at night, arms crossed, staring down a stuffed Luffy plushie like it had personally wronged him, he had to admit — something had gone very wrong.

It had started innocently enough. Three weeks ago, Suna had seen the plushie in a claw machine at the arcade near your apartment. It wasn't even that good a machine — the kind that ate your money and gave you nothing back, rigged within an inch of its life. But he'd dropped in coin after coin, ignoring Osamu's increasingly loud sighs beside him, until finally, on his ninth try, the claw actually gripped instead of slipping, and out came a slightly lopsided, extremely soft Luffy doll with stitched-on sunglasses that didn't come with the original design — some limited edition variant you'd mentioned wanting, off-hand, weeks before, in a conversation Suna hadn't even seemed to be paying attention to.

That was the thing about Suna. He always seemed like he wasn't paying attention. And then he'd go and prove that he'd caught every single word.

"Here," he'd said, tossing it into your lap without ceremony, like it was nothing, like he hadn't spent forty minutes and way too many coins on it. "You wouldn't shut up about it."

You'd nearly tackled him. You definitely squealed loud enough that he'd winced and told you to quiet down, the neighbors were going to think he was hurting you. But even as he complained, there'd been that small, satisfied curl at the corner of his mouth — the one he only got when something had gone exactly the way he wanted.

You'd known his name immediately, obviously — Luffy, straw hat and all, if a little lopsided from the stitching. From that day forward, Luffy had a permanent spot on your bed, propped against your pillows like some kind of straw-hatted sentinel.

Suna hadn't thought anything of it. Not at first.

The problem, if you could call it that, started small. You'd taken a picture of the plushie sitting on your windowsill in the afternoon light and sent it to him with the caption he's living his best life. Suna had smiled at his phone like an idiot on the train home, which Osamu had mercilessly clocked and would not let him live down for the rest of the week.

Then you started giving the thing a personality. "Luffy says good morning," you'd text. Or, during a particularly boring class, "Luffy is judging me for not studying." Suna found it funny. Endearing, even. He liked that something he'd given you had become a whole bit between you two.

But then it kept going. And going.

You started sleeping with it. Which — fine. Normal. People slept with stuffed animals. Suna had definitely still had a beat-up old cat plushie somewhere in his closet that he was never, ever going to admit to owning. But then you mentioned, completely offhand, over a phone call one night, that you'd started talking to it before bed. "Just to like — process the day," you said, laughing a little. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging you," Suna said, even though something in his chest had pulled tight in a way he didn't have a name for yet.

"Good. Because Luffy is a great listener. Better than some people." A pause. "No offense."

"...None taken," Suna said, in a voice that suggested offense had, in fact, been taken.

He told himself it was ridiculous. He was a nineteen-year-old man getting weird about a stuffed pirate. There was no version of this where he came out looking normal, and he knew that, and yet the feeling didn't go away — it just sort of sat there, low and stupid, every time you brought the plushie up like it was a third party in the relationship.

Things came to a head on a night he'd come over to study — or that was the plan, anyway, before you'd both given up on productivity within twenty minutes and ended up sprawled on your bed, half-watching something neither of you were really following. Luffy, as always, held his post against the pillows.

At some point you shifted, curling slightly into Suna's side, and grabbed the plushie to hug against your chest, sighing contentedly. "Best cuddle buddy," you murmured, patting its head.

Suna, who had been in the middle of getting comfortable himself, stopped.

"I'm right here," he said.

"I know." You didn't even look up. "You can both be my cuddle buddies. It's not a competition."

"It's a stuffed animal."

"He has a name."

"He's made of polyester."

"Rude," you said, hugging the plushie tighter, like you were protecting it from him. "Don't talk about Luffy like that in front of him."

Suna stared at you. Stared at the plushie. Felt, with a rising and deeply humiliating clarity, that he was — somehow, impossibly — losing an argument to a stuffed pirate.

"You know I bought that thing," he said.

"I know."

"I spent actual money on it. Multiple times. The claw kept dropping it."

"I know, and it was very romantic," you said, entirely too sincerely for someone who was still hugging the plushie instead of him. "That's why he's earned his spot."

"His spot," Suna repeated flatly.

"Yeah. Right here." You patted the space between you and the plushie, which, Suna noted with some indignation, was closer to you than he currently was.

He didn't say anything else. He just reached over, plucked the plushie out of your arms with the same unbothered efficiency he did everything, and set it down on the nightstand, facing the wall.

"Hey—"

"He can watch the movie from over there," Suna said, resettling himself against you, arm looping around your waist like he was reclaiming territory. "Or not. I don't really care what he does."

You were laughing now, delighted, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him properly. "Suna. Are you seriously jealous of a plushie."

"No."

"You just turned him around so he couldn't look at us."

"He doesn't have eyes that work. It doesn't matter which way he's facing."

"Oh my god." You were grinning so wide it had to hurt. "You are. You're jealous of Luffy."

"I'm not saying anything else about this," Suna said, which was, in itself, a confession, and you both knew it.

He tried to play it off over the next few days. That was the Suna way — deflect, downplay, pretend the moment had never happened and hope it got buried under enough time and unrelated conversations that nobody brought it up again. It worked on most people. It did not work on you, because you had apparently decided that Suna Rintarou being quietly, absurdly jealous of a stuffed animal was the funniest thing that had happened to you all year, and you were not going to let it go.

You brought Luffy everywhere, suddenly. Not really — you weren't actually carrying a plushie around campus like a lunatic — but every text became an opportunity. A picture of the plushie "helping" you study, propped up next to your notes. A picture of it wearing one of your hair scrunchies like a headband. A message that read, simply, Luffy says hi with no further context, sent right in the middle of Suna's practice, so that he had to read it standing on the court with Osamu leaning over his shoulder asking who Luffy was and why Suna's ears had gone red.

"It's nothing," Suna muttered, shoving his phone back in his bag.

"Doesn't look like nothing," Osamu said, entirely too pleased with himself. "You're the color of a tomato, Rin."

"I will end you."

"Who's Luffy?"

"I said I will end you."

Osamu, naturally, told Atsumu. Atsumu, naturally, would not shut up about it for the rest of the week, cackling every time he caught Suna glancing at his phone, asking loudly across the club room whether "the plushie boyfriend" was doing okay, whether Suna needed to fight a stuffed animal for his honor. Suna endured it with the long-suffering patience of a man who had brought this entirely upon himself and knew it.

It was you, in the end, who put a stop to it — mostly because even you had limits on how long you could tease him before it stopped being funny and started being mean, and you liked him too much to actually make him miserable over it.

You showed up at his apartment on a Friday evening with the plushie tucked under one arm, and when he opened the door and saw it, his expression did something complicated and resigned, like he was bracing for another week of this.

"Relax," you said, stepping past him inside. "I come bearing peace offerings."

"You brought the enemy into my own home."

"He's not the enemy. He's actually here to help you." You set the plushie down on Suna's couch, propped upright, facing the two of you. "Luffy, as official witness — Suna Rintarou, you are, and have always been, my favorite. Not a stuffed animal. Not anyone. You. I just thought it was really funny watching you get worked up about it, so I kept going. That's it. That's the whole thing."

Suna looked at you. Looked at the plushie. Something in his shoulders that had been quietly tense for the better part of two weeks finally eased.

"You did that on purpose," he said. "This whole time."

"Obviously. You should've seen your face at practice. Osamu sent me a video."

"He what—"

"Focus," you said, laughing, stepping closer and looping your arms around his neck before he could spiral into another rant about Osamu's betrayal. "I like you an unreasonable amount, Suna. Way more than a stuffed pirate that I asked you to win me as a joke, and that you then spent forty minutes and probably ten dollars in quarters trying to get."

"Twelve dollars," Suna corrected, arms settling automatically around your waist, some of the sharpness draining out of his voice now that he had you instead of an empty apartment and a green-eyed grudge against felt and stuffing. "I counted."

"Twelve dollars," you agreed. "Which is genuinely the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, so. I'm sorry I turned it into a bit for two weeks."

"You're not sorry."

"I'm a little sorry."

"You're not even a little sorry."

"Okay, I'm not sorry at all," you admitted, grinning up at him. "But I really do like you more than the plushie. For the record."

Suna huffed something that was almost a laugh, tipping his forehead down against yours. "You'd better. I have a reputation to protect. Osamu already thinks I proposed to a stuffed animal."

"You kind of did, a little."

"I'm breaking up with both of you."

"You can't break up with a plushie, Rintarou, he's not your girlfriend."

"He's got more screen time in your texts than I do, so I'm not sure that's true anymore."

You laughed again, pressing up to kiss the corner of his mouth, and whatever was left of his sulking dissolved entirely. Behind you, forgotten now on the couch, Luffy sat propped against the cushions, permanently smiling, permanently oblivious to the chaos he'd caused — a twelve-dollar rubber-armed reminder that even someone as unbothered as Suna Rintarou could, apparently, be brought entirely undone by something as small as watching you love a gift more than you loved bragging about the person who gave it to you.

He decided, privately, that he didn't mind so much. As long as he still came first.

Which, obviously, he did. Even if it had taken him an embarrassingly long two weeks and one entire volleyball team's worth of teasing to actually believe it.

@korasunae

The mountain of laundry on the bed seemed to grow higher the longer you stared at it. You let out a heavy sigh, smoothing down one of Jungkook’s oversized black hoodies before folding it into a neat square. Your shoulders ached from a relentless day, and all you wanted was to crawl under the covers and sleep for a week.

The click of the front door lock broke the silence of the apartment. Before you could even turn around, a pair of muscular arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest.

Jungkook buried his face into the crook of your neck, "Missed you," he murmured, You smiled faintly, leaning into him for a brief second. "Missed you too. How was—"

Your sentence cut short as Jungkook shifted his weight, pressing his bulge firmly against your ass. His intentions were crystal clear. "Let's do sex," he whispered against your ear, his voice dropping into that smooth, seductive tone he knew usually melted your defenses. "Right now. Forget the clothes."

You closed your eyes, feeling a wave of sheer exhaustion crash over you instead of arousal. "Jungkook, please, not tonight," you said softly, trying to gently pry his hands off your hips. "I'm completely exhausted. My brain is fried and my body hurts."

Instead of letting go, Jungkook laughed softly, thinking you were just playing hard to get. He kissed down your jawline, his grip tightening as he hummed again, pressing himself even closer against you. "Come on, Y/N. Just a quick one. It’ll help you relax."

"Jungkook, no," you said, your voice firmer this time. You forcefully stepped out of his embrace, turning around to face him. "I said no. I am too tired. I've been running on three hours of sleep, handling work, and trying to clean this place."

Jungkook’s playful expression instantly dropped. His brow furrowing as irritation flashed across his face."Seriously?" he scoffed, tossing his jacket onto a nearby chair. "I come home after a brutal day, trying to be affectionate, and I just get pushed away? You’re always 'too tired' lately."

"Because I am tired!" you snapped back, the pent-up frustration of the past month bubbling to the surface.

"Tired? Seriously, Y/N?" he snapped, his voice rising. "How can you even be tired? You stay in this luxury penthouse from day to night! I provide absolutely everything for you. The rent, the food, the clothes on your back, it's all paid for." The words cut through you like a knife. You stood frozen, holding a half folded shirt, staring at the man you were supposed to marry."I bust my ass off in that office every single day," Jungkook continued, gesturing wildly toward the door. "I deal with corporate boardrooms, investors, and endless stress just to make sure we have a perfect life. And you're exhausted? From what? Folding laundry? Wow. That's hilarious.""How dare you?"

Your voice shook, tears of anger stinging the corners of your eyes. You dropped the shirt onto the pile. "You think because you bring home a paycheck, my life is a vacation? I manage this entire house, I handle the wedding planning you ignore, and I work my own job too! Just because I don't sit in a boardroom doesn't mean I don't work!"

"Oh, please," Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes as he unbuttoned his collar. "Your 'routine' is a joke compared to mine. You wouldn't last a single hour in my world. The pressure I carry would crush you."

"And you wouldn't last a day in mine!" you yelled back, the tears finally spilling over your cheeks. "You don't see the invisible stress. You don't see how exhausting it is to cater to everyone else and have your own fiancé look down on you! You think being a woman in your world is easy? You think managing your moods is easy?"

"I don't look down on you, Y/N, I'm just stating facts!" Jungkook shouted, stepping closer, his jaw clenched tight. "My life is harder. Period. You have it easy, and you still find a way to complain about being too tired for your own fiancé."

"I hate you right now," you whispered, your voice cracking. "I wish you could see how wrong you are. I wish you could feel what it's like to be me."

"Right back at you," he muttered coldly, grabbing a pillow and a blanket from the bed. "Because then you'd finally shut up about being tired."With a final, bitter glare, Jungkook slammed the bedroom door shut, heading to the living room couch. You threw yourself onto the empty bed, sobbing into your pillow until exhaustion finally dragged you into a heavy, restless sleep.

The next morning you groaned, blinking your eyes open. Everything felt… wrong. Your lower body felt heavier. You pushed the duvet off, sitting up. You went to the bathroom to do your morning routine, but you are having problem in walking.

You felt something between your things , you put your hand in. Your brain went completely blank as your fingers registered the undeniable truth.There was something there. Something that definitely should not be there.You gasped, stumbling backward until your back hit the tiled bathroom wall. Your eyes were wide with absolute horror as the realization hit you like a freight train. You looked into the mirror. The face staring back was still yours , your eyes, your nose, your lips. But everything below the neck had drastically changed overnight. You were still Y/N, but biologically, you were now a man.

Suddenly, a blood curdling, high-pitched shriek echoed from the living room couch."WHAT THE HELL?!".You rushed out of the bathroom, your legs moving awkwardly under your newly shifted center of gravity. You flung the bedroom door open just as Jungkook came sprinting down the hallway. He was clutching his chest, his eyes dinner-plate wide, staring down at his own body in absolute terror.

"Y/N!" Jungkook choked out, his voice cracking. "Something is wrong with me! I woke up and, and then I felt this weight on my chest, and" He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes dropping to the front of your pajama pants.You stood there, face burning with a mix of embarrassment and horror, pointing a trembling finger right back at him.

"Jungkook... look at your chest."Jungkook slowly looked down. Under his oversized t-shirt, two distinct, soft curves were prominently pushing against the fabric. He let out a strangled gasp, his hands flying up to touch them. His jaw dropped."What did you do to me?!" he yelled.

In a panic, he slapped his hands down toward his waist, checking inside his shorts. The moment his hands made contact with clit, his entire face turned bright red, and he looked up at you with pure, unadulterated shock.

"Where... where did it go?!"

"Don't look at me!" you shrieked, covering your face. "It's not gone! It's... I think it's on me!”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to your waist. His brain completely bypassed all logic and boundaries. Before you could even register he gripped the elastic band of your pajama pants and yanked them straight down to your knees.

"JUNGKOOK!" you screamed, your face exploding into a violent, burning crimson.But Jungkook wasn't even listening. He bent over, staring dead ahead, "Oh my god," Jungkook breathed out, his voice a mixture of awe, horror, and profound grief. "That’s my dick. Y/N, you have my dick. Why do you have my dick?!"

The utter absurdity of the sentence broke your temporary paralysis. A surge of pure adrenaline and mortification took over.You brought your palm down hard against the back of his head. Jungkook let out a sharp yelp, stumbling forward from the force of the strike."Are you insane?!" you yelled, hurriedly bending down to grab the fabric of your pajamas and pulling them back up to your waist, tying the drawstring into a knot so tight it almost cut off your circulation. "You can't just go ripping my pants down! Have you lost your mind?!"

"You hit me!" Jungkook gasped, rubbing the back of his head with wide, betrayed eyes. "And I only looked because it belongs to me! Or... it used to! What is happening to us?!"

"I don't know!" you cried, "The universe took our fight seriously! You said I wouldn't last a day in your shoes, and now... now I have your parts!"Jungkook stood there, processing your words, his hands awkwardly hovering near his newly acquired, soft chest. He looked down at himself, then up at your furious, blushing face.The reality of the glitch was finally settling in.

Your gaze slowly drops to his chest. You lunged forward and reached out. You placed both of your hands directly onto his chest, cupping his boobs.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" Jungkook squeaked.

"My babies," you whined loudly, gently squeezing them as tears of frustration pricked your eyes. "Look what you've done to my babies! They're trapped on a giant muscular frame! They look so out of place on you!"

"Stop squeezing them, it feels so weird!" Jungkook yelled, swatting your hands away and covering his chest with his arms, looking completely violated.

"This is a nightmare. I can't go out like this. Y/N, I literally cannot leave this apartment. What if someone sees me? What if I have to go to the office?" You rolled your eyes."Calm down, drama queen," you said, crossing your arms. "First of all, nobody is going to see anything through an oversized hoodie. Second of all, you aren't going to the office. It's the weekend."

Jungkook blinked, turning his head to look at you. "It is?"

"Yes," you sighed, gesturing to the quiet apartment.

Jungkook let out a massive sigh of relief, his shoulders dropping. "Thank God. In that case, I am going right back to bed to process this."

"Oh no, you don't," you said, blocking his path. You pointed a finger toward the hallway. "Go prepare breakfast."Jungkook gasped, looking at you like you had just suggested he jump off a cliff. "Why me?! I'm the one who went through a traumatic physical eviction last night! I am going to rest."

"You want to talk about trauma? I have a whole extra limb down here, Jungkook!" you snapped. You stepped closer and gave his cheek a sharp, playful slap, just a firm little tap to snap him out of it. "Go. Kitchen. Now." Before he could argue, you turned on your heel and marched straight toward the bathroom.

Jungkook stood in the hallway, rubbing his cheek and glaring at your retreating back. "Unbelievable," he mumbled under his breath, stomping his feet like a toddler. "Bossing me around in my own apartment. Violent, beautiful woman..."

Still grumbling, he shuffled into the kitchen. His new center of gravity felt completely different, the extra weight on his chest making him feel strangely front-heavy. He pulled out the coffee maker, scooped in the grounds, and started the machine.As the coffee began to drip, filling the kitchen with a rich aroma, Jungkook leaned against the marble countertop. He looked down at his t-shirt. The curiosity was eating him alive.

He slowly raised his right hand, hovering it over his right breast. He hesitated for a second, then gently pressed his hand over the soft curve, giving it a firm, experimental squeeze.A massive, goofy grin spread across his face. He let out a low, bubbly giggle, entirely fascinated by how soft it was.

"Wow," Jungkook mumbled to himself, giving it another little squeeze. "She never lets me squeeze them this much. This is amazing.”

You finished in the bathroom after a highly confusing, Tucking your pajama pants securely around your waist, you walked into the dining area.Jungkook was already sitting at the table, having brought over the plates of breakfast. But the moment you looked at him, your jaw dropped.

He was completely shirtless.Sitting there in his gray lounge shorts, he was casually picking up a piece of toast. Because he was in his own body, he still had his usual sculpted chest and muscular abs but now, your soft boobs was sitting right on top of those defined muscles. It was the most distracting, surreal, and confusing thing you had ever seen.

"Jungkook!" you shouted, your face immediately bursting into a fierce blush. "What are you doing?! Put a shirt on!"

Jungkook didn't even look up from his plate. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed happily. "Ugh, no way. It’s too hot today. Plus, you know I have a habit of roaming around shirtless. It's my home anyway."

"They're on my body right now, which makes them my assets for the weekend," he ignored you completely, chewing on his toast with a smug little shrug.

"It is not the same as before!" you shrieked, gesturing wildly at his chest. "You are literally parading my body parts around the kitchen! Put some fabric over my babies, Jungkook, I swear to God!"

You let out a frustrated groan, stomping over to the table and pulling out a chair. As you sat across from him, your eyes involuntarily dropped. Jungkook’s body was admittedly gorgeous, the sharp collarbones, the toned arms, the shadows falling across his abs. But seeing your own breast sitting perfectly on that hyper-masculine frame did something wild to your brain. It was a bizarre, intoxicating contrast.

You found yourself staring, your gaze trailing down his chest, your mind wandering into dangerously lustful thoughts. Wow, he looks... really good like that. Jungkook paused mid-chew, his lips slowly curled into a wicked, knowing smirk. He realized instantly that you were completely checking him out.

He leaned back in his chair, deliberately stretching his arms over his head to make his muscles and your chest flex prominently.

"Like what you see, Y/N?" Jungkook teased, his voice dropping into a low, playful purr as he leaned across the table toward you. "You're staring pretty hard. If you keep looking at me like that, I might think you want to do more than just eat breakfast.”

You pushed your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the hardwood floor. Jungkook’s smirk faltered for a split second as you stood up.

You stepped directly between his knees, he let out a gasp, his head tilting back to look up at you. From this angle, your new silhouette completely towered over him, casting a shadow across his shirtless chest.You didn't give him a chance to recover. Bringing your hands up, you cradled his jaw firmly, your larger fingers cupping his face perfectly.

Breaking the kiss for just a second, Jungkook’s eyes flared with sudden dark desire. He gripped your waist, and lift you, and hurriedly led you down the hallway, stumbling slightly until he threw both of you onto the bed.The mattress bounced heavily beneath you.

Then, you leaned down and kissed him , your teeth clasping hard pushing tongue on one mouth, your mind knew exactly how Jungkook usually kissed, but experiencing it through his own physical perspective made every touch feel ten times more electric.Jungkook’s hands immediately flew up, instinctively gripping your waist as a soft, muffled whimper escaped his lips. The sudden shift in dynamic was completely dizzying, leaving both of you breathless against each other's lips.

Jungkook crawled over you, his eyes locking onto yours with a hungry, determined grin. But as your hands came up to grip his shoulders, the absolute bizarre reality of your physical situation suddenly crashed over you.You looked down between your bodies, then up at his face.

"Wait, Koo," you breathed out, your deep voice laced with genuine confusion. "How... how are we even gonna do it? Our bodies are literally swapped."Jungkook paused, his confident smirk freezing mid-air. He blinked, looking down at his chest, then down at the bulge of your pajama pants."Oh," Jungkook muttered in his high, squeaky voice. "Right. The... the parts. They aren't where they usually are.”

A wicked, slow smirk spread across your."Well," you rumbled, "Today, I’m the one punishing you."

Jungkook’s eyes went wide as you gripped his shoulders, you pushed him flat onto his back against the pillows. You crawled over him, pinning his hips down beneath your frame. Looking down at him, you couldn't help but chuckle. He was staring up at you with wide, glassy eyes, awkwardly clutching the blanket over his newly soft chest.

"So," you leaned down, your breath fanning over his lips as you let out a low, teasing purr. "My beautiful baby doll... my sexy little lady. Are you ready for daddy?" Jungkook’s face instantly exploded into a furious, bright blush.

He bit his lower lip, a massive, dramatic pout forming on his face as he looked up at you through his eyelashes."Yes, daddy," he mumbled, his voice hitting a hilariously high, squeaky, and completely embarrassed pitch.

Your hands down, giving his thigh a firm, playful smack."Pay attention, baby doll," you rumbled.Jungkook let out a soft, high-pitched gasp, his fingers instantly digging into the bedsheets as his face turned an even deeper shade of crimson.You didn't give him a second to recover. Leaning your heavy frame lower, you buried your face into the crook of his neck.

You pressed a warm, lingering kiss right against his collarbone, feeling the frantic flutter of his pulse beneath your lips while squeezing his boobs. Slowly, deliberately, you kissed your way up the smooth expanse of his neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline until you reached the sensitive spot right beneath his ear.

"You like that, don't you?" you whispered against his skin, your deep voice sending a literal shiver straight down his spine."Y-Y/N..." Jungkook whined, his squeaky voice breaking as he instinctively arched his hips up into yours. His hands flew up, wrapping around your shoulders to pull you closer, completely helpless under your control. "Stop teasing me. You're driving me crazy.”

"Lift your hips for me, baby." He does as you say, your fingers hooking into the sides of the waistband, slowly pulling the fabric down his legs.

Kissing your way down to his breasts. You licks and sucks on each of his nipples before trailing slow, soft kisses down his stomach.

You grins, hovering your mouth over his pussy, your breath fanning over his folds. "Love seeing you all worked up for me," you murmurs, slowly licking your lips before pressing a feather-like kiss to his mound.

He spread his legs for you, showing you his glistening folds. The sight alone makes your sweatpants feel tighter. You kneel down at the edge of the bed, spreading his legs further apart. You kissed your way up his leg from his calf to his inner thigh, holding his ankle over your shoulder.

"Just shut up and eat me out.”

“ Yes sir”

You start slowly with wet little kisses and licks to his clit, slowly building up a steady pace. Jungkook's always been more of a giver than a taker, your pleasure bringing him pleasure. But it's your turn now.

You smile against his pussy, feeling proud of every little sigh and moan you pull from his lips. "You taste so good," you mutter before diving back in, licking a long stripe from his leaking entrance to his clit, your hands gripping his thighs to keep them open.

"Just like that...oh my god, don't stop…”

You look up at him with a dazed look in your eyes, your tongue lapping at him with skilled precision that makes his toes curl, his fingers gripping the sheets beneath him.

"F-fuck, 'm gonna cum," he gasp, grabbing onto your hair to hold you in place, his eyes squeezing shut, his head spinning as the pleasure reaches a peak.

A few more sucks and flicks of your tongue and he's cumming, your hands holding him in place as you laps at his pussy, helping him ride out his high. You feel his thighs quivering, looking quite proud of yourself. "You taste so fucking good," you murmurs, pressing a few soft kisses to his clit.

You crawl up to hover over him, giving his lips a quick peck, your lips and chin glistening. "Still with me?”

"Mhmm," he grinned, slowly opening his eyes to look up at you." I'll give you blow job too , so you will learn how to give one".

You slap his clit saying " what do you mean huh? I'm good at giving blowjob"

"ofc , come now" he got on his knee. As you lie on the mattress spreading your leg . He held your dick wrap it around his fingers giving lazy strokes. Kissing the tip, then the balls , he took your tip holding between his lips , rolling his tongue above it , you groan with a kind of satisfaction you never ever felt , then he took the whole length in to his throat , sucking it , your group on his hair got tighter.

" I-im gonna cum"

He left your cock with a pop as he want you to cum inside him " come fuck me you little slut" , you squeeze his boobs saying "you're my slut tonight "

"You gonna fuck me now?" He teases, his lips curling into a soft smile.

You almost laughed at his bluntness, the way he just gets straight to the point, never wasting any time if he wants something. Also today its gonna be way more special as you gonna feel how does men actually feels fucking.

You get up and remove your pants and boxers, letting it lay somewhere on the bedroom floor. You're already hard, your cock standing tall, the tip already leaking a bit. You stand at the end of your bed, your hand wrapped around the base, your eyes glued between his legs, slowly trailing up to his face.

You crawl back on top of hi., sliding your fingers through his folds, gathering some of his slick and rubbing it over the head of your cock. "Ready, baby?”

He gives you a nod as you slowly push into him, your hips gently moving forward. "Shit, you feel good, you look so hot with my dick , never gonna forget this sight " he groans.

“ Fucck its way more satisfying” you said. Fucking him hard for good five minutes.

He cum with a loud cry, his body convulsing beneath you , his vision going blank as the pleasure hits him. It feels relentless, like nothing he has ever felt before, his body trembles as he come down from his high, barely able to register you pulling out. His eyes are half open as he watch you cumming at the same time inside him, your face contorting in pleasure, your abdomen tensing. You finishes with a guttural moan of his name.

You both lie down , as you let out a long, deep, sigh, completely exhausted as you collapsed onto your side. Jungkook immediately curled into your side. The initial shock had worn off, leaving both of you entirely drained but deeply content.

You smiled down at him, your arm wrapping securely around his waist to pull him flush against your chest.

Leaning down, you began planting soft, lingering kisses all over his face, his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose, making a soft, rumbling sound in your throat.

"Ouch, wait Y/N, stop," Jungkook winced slightly, shifting his hips and pressing a hand against his lower abdomen with a dramatic pout. "Everything down there... It's literally hurting. It feels so sore and heavy."

You let out a soft, deep chuckle, kissing his pouty lips one more time before resting your chin on top of his head. "Well, guess what, Koo? That is exactly how I feel daily after we do it," you said, a playful but honest edge to your voice.

"Welcome to my world. You wanted to know what it's like in my shoes."Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment, burying his face deeper into your chest as he processed the physical aftershocks of the experience. A small, breathless laugh escaped his lips.

"Okay, fair point," he mumbled, his fingers lightly tracing your arm. "But... I have to admit, it’s incredibly satisfying too. The warmth, the feeling... it’s completely different than what I’m used to. I get why you like cuddling so much after."

Your expression softened completely. The lingering resentment from last night's brutal argument finally dissolved into the warm air of the bedroom. You tightened your grip around him, pulling the duvet over both of your shoulders.

"I'm sorry about last night, Koo," you whispered sincerely into his hair. "I shouldn't have yelled. I know you work incredibly hard at the office and carry a lot of pressure for our future."

Jungkook shifted, looking up at you with wide, soft eyes full of genuine remorse."No, I'm the one who is sorry, darling," he said softly, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I completely dismissed everything you do for us. I took this penthouse, the chores, and your own exhaustion for granted. Seeing how much my words hurt you... and literally feeling the weight of your routine today? I was a total jerk. I'm sorry."

"We both messed up," you smiled softly, kissing his forehead again. "But I think the universe definitely taught us our lesson."