✿ @amethyst-ardor - Tumblr Blog

Aug 10

tattooed like a vow

pairings: undergroundboxer!jk × baker!reader

content: obsession, mild angst, slow-burn, smut.

w/c: 25k (~100 mins)

as soon as you flipped the bakery sign to closed, the warmth from the ovens started fading from the walls. midnight clung to the windows in dark distorted reflections, the quiet of the shop settling deep into your bones. you were wiping the last traces of powdered sugar off the counter when the bell above the door rang.

the sharp sound startled you. your heart instantly hammering against your ribs—a knee-jerk reflex your body still carried from a childhood spent waiting for the next blow to fall.

you looked up, eyes wide and glassy under the dim light, to see the regular. a tall shadow dressed in black with a heavy hoodie pulled over his head. usually, he came to just buy two cinnamon rolls. exactly two. but tonight, his stare was piercing. his footsteps growing louder and louder as he cut through the empty space toward the counter. curiosity stirred beneath your panic, but the sheer size of him kept you frozen.

“h-hi.” your voice stuttered, small and trembling. “h-how can i help you?”

“don’t be afraid.” he pulled the hoodie back, exposing dark hair and eyes so intense you were certain he could hear your pulse racing. “it’s me. i’m just here to order.”

“o-oh. we’re closed right now. b-but i could quickly make somethi—”

“just wanted to order forty cinnamon rolls for tomorrow night. have them delivered here.” he slid a piece of crumpled paper across the clean counter, followed by a thick heavy bundle of cash. “this is more than enough to cover.”

you looked from the money to his face, completely shocked. this bakery wasn’t popular. it was minimal space, minimal treats, a quiet corner of the world where the same few people only knew about. nobody did pre-orders. nobody asked for delivery. forty items in twenty-four hours felt impossible for your hands alone.

“not a word to anyone,” he warned. his voice firm, grounding you in the reality of the thick stack of bills.

“o-okay. i can—” you gulped, “—can do this. what time would you like for me—”

“same time as now would be good.” the reply was instant and sharp, clearly wanting to get this over with.

you gave him a small, hesitant nod. a slight smirk touched his lips. he knew he had you. your vulnerability was entirely to his advantage and he didn’t hesitate to use it. he turned on his heel, walking back toward the door with that same heavy stride.

“remember, not a word, sweetheart.” he said, pausing halfway out the open door. he turned his face back toward you, a wicked little wink accompanying the index finger he pressed to his lips to gesture a ‘shh’.

then, the door clicked shut, leaving you alone within the silent four walls.

the next morning, the bell above the door didn’t stop ringing. juggling the front counter for customers while rushing back to the ovens had you constantly on your feet, moving in a dizzying rhythm. you weren’t usually fond of the bitter taste of coffee, but today, you relied entirely on the cheap caffeine boost to keep your hands moving.

by the time the closing hours arrived, the shop finally emptied out, leaving you alone in the quiet kitchen to finish the final touches.

as you carefully packed the warm golden pastries into large boxes, a rare spark of pride flared in your chest. you had done it all on your own and right on time. your life had never been particularly interesting or eventful, but this order had given you a challenge to meet. you smiled down at the neat rows of rolls, clapping your flour-dusted hands together in a silent celebration.

the walk to the unknown address felt endless. midnight had turned the streets quiet, the cold in the air made your skin prickle. you had never liked walking alone at night, but following a crumpled piece of paper to a place you had never heard of was an entirely different kind of cold. a sharp sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally reached the destination.

the regular was already there leaning against a rusted pipe by the entrance, tapping away on his phone. seeing him brought a strange sudden wave of comfort—proof that you hadn’t been lured out here for nothing.

at the sound of your delicate footsteps, he looked up and that same confident smirk spread across his face. “knew you’d come through, sweetheart.”

you offered a polite nod, handing over the two heavy boxes. he grunted under the weight, lifting the lid of one to inhale the rich sweet scent of yeast and cinnamon. a satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest. “atta girl. no icing on the rolls, just how we like ’em.”

“y-yeah,” you murmured, giving a small breathy laugh. “i-i made sure everything was exact.”

“thanks. my boy loves your hands.”

the words caught you off guard. his boy? you blinked, confusion written plainly across your face. but before you could ask what he meant, he reached into his pocket and handed you another small wad of bills.

“for your troubles. go home, sweetheart. and remember what i said?”

“n-not a word,” you whispered, your eyes growing wide.

he didn’t reply, only offering a sharp before gesturing with his head for you to turn back toward the safety of the main road.

he expected you to leave. you knew you should have. but as you watched him disappear through the heavy doors of the building, your feet stayed glued to the pavement. the structure was a massive decaying two-story brick warehouse, completely covered in layers of jagged graffiti. what caught your attention though, were the names. dozens of male names were scrawled across the brick and every single one of them had a thick dark line carved right through the center. crossed out. eliminated.

driven by a sudden unexplainable urge to pique your curiosity, you pushed through the heavy exterior doors. the deeper you walked into the decaying concrete labyrinth, the more the silence began to fracture. a low vibrating hum echoed through the floorboards. cheering. screaming. a muffled chaotic roar that grew sharper as you passed a steep flight of stairs leading into the basement. you took a breath, stepped down the stairwell, and pushed open the final set of double doors.

the reality of the room hit you like a physical blow. before you could even think about turning back, the sheer mass of the crowd swallowed you whole. the underground hall was far too small for the hundreds of people packed inside, forcing bodies to shove and slam against one another in a frantic wave. within seconds, you were swept away from the exit.

panic flared, suffocating your lungs until you finally managed to press your back against a solid concrete wall. trapped between the solid stone and a wall of strangers, you finally took in your surroundings.

the air reeked of stale beer, sweat, and cheap tobacco. overhead, flickering fluorescent lights casted jarring shadows across the room, accompanied by the deafening pulse of heavy bass that made your teeth rattle. the sensory overload was dizzying. and suddenly, the music cut out entirely.

the sudden silence lasted for a fraction of a second before the room erupted into a deafening noise of whistles and pounding chants. bright spotlight beams swung toward the center of the hall, illuminating a massive chain-link cage stained with sweat and old darkened blood. a rough voice echoed over the cracking speakers, vibrating right through the concrete against your spine.

“ALRIGHT, YOU FILTHY BASTARDS! ARE WE READY?!”

your heart stopped. an underground boxing match.

the announcer’s voice bled into the frenzy of the crowd, introducing the first fighter—a name you couldn’t even make out over the roaring audience. but when the announcer turned to the opposite corner, the noise doubled, vibrating the very foundations of the building. “—AND IN THE OTHER CORNER…”

the crowd didn’t even let him finish the name. they already knew who was coming.

shaken by the sheer volume, you instantly pressed your small hands over your ears, your knees trembling as the crowd went completely feral. the air in the room shifted, growing heavier, thicker, charged with a terrifying kind of reverence.

then, he walked out.

he moved with a slow, lethal grace, walking as if he owned the ring, the crowd, and every lungful of air in the room. he was tall, his right arm entirely covered in solid dark ink that stretched up to his shoulder. his chest was bare, exposing a powerful physique marked by a few healing scars. he turned in a slow circle, absorbing the worship of the room, his jaw tight with a dangerous arrogance. he struck his own chest with a heavy fist, a brief dismissive display of power that sent the audience into a renewed madness.

as he always did before a fight, his dark eyes began to scan the room, looking at how people were disgustingly loud just at mere presence of him, his ego higher than the Burj Khalifa. until his gaze hit the back wall.

the contrast was instantaneous. amidst a sea of sweating, screaming, violent faces, there you were—a fragile wide-eyed girl pressed hard against the concrete, looking like a lost lamb trapped in a den of wolves.

his entire posture locked.

the roaring crowd, the flashing lights, the opponent waiting in the center of the ring—everything seemed to dull into background noise. his dark piercing eyes anchored onto yours, tracking the visible tremor in your frame. something violent and possessive gripped him by the throat, a sudden primal need to pull you out of that crowd and claim you as his own. a slow lethal smirk touched his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he blindly raised his gloves, ready to tear into the man across from him.

the fight dragged on for nearly two hours. by the time the underground hall finally began to empty, your breath was shallow, your entire frame still trembling. you could feel the tight, uncomfortable pull of dried tears on your cheeks. the match had been far too violent to look at; you had kept your eyes squeezed shut the entire time, but covering your ears hadn’t been enough to block out the reality of what was happening.

you hadn’t known it, but the brutality in the ring had reached a gruesome new level tonight solely because he was throwing every strike for an audience of one. between rounds, his eyes had repeatedly searched the dark perimeter for your fragile silhouette, only to find you small, frozen, and hiding from the sight of him. he had found it almost amusing. endearing, even.

the moment the last of the spectators drifted toward the exit, you moved, desperate to escape. your body was operating purely on fight-or-flight instincts, driving you up the concrete stairs and out into the crisp midnight air.

you collapsed against the exterior brick wall to catch your breath, panting heavily. your legs felt like lead; there was no way you could walk home in this state, not this late. pulling out your phone, you did something you never did—you called a taxi. usually, the steep fare was a luxury you couldn’t afford, but the heavy bundle of cash your regular had handed you earlier made the expense a necessity.

five minutes later, the headlights of a sedan cut through the dark. you practically threw yourself into the backseat, hurriedly murmuring your address to the driver. the man gave a quiet nod, shifting the car into drive and letting it roll forward. you were halfway through buckling your seatbelt when the brakes slammed. the sudden jerk caught you off guard, followed immediately by three heavy knocks against the driver’s side window.

you froze, peering between the front seats as the driver rolled down the glass. standing under the dim streetlamp was the boxer. he was still flushed from the ring, sweat glistening on his forehead, his knuckles raw and split. without a word, he flicked a hundred-dollar bill through the window, dropping it carelessly onto the console.

“keep the change,” he bartered, his voice a low gravelly rasp..

the driver didn’t hesitate. he rolled the window up and pressed the gas, leaving the curb behind.

your head snapped toward the side window. you stared through the glass and he stared right back, his dark gaze heavier and more consuming than before. he brought a cigarette to his lips as the car pulled away, his head turned slowly, tracking you, refusing to break eye contact for even a fraction of a second.

right before the shadows swallowed him, a predatory smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. he knew he had terrified you. he knew he was a monster from a world you didn’t belong to. but as he watched the taillights of your taxi disappear into the night, the tight ugly coil of possessiveness in his chest only wrapped tighter around his heart. you were a soft pretty thing, a stark contrast to the filth he lived in—and jungkook knew, with an absolute and terrifying certainty, that he was never going to let you go.

three days had passed, and he completely occupied your mind. you had received your share of smirks from men before, but his had been different. no matter how desperately you tried to focus on the rhythm of the bakery, those dark eyes and bruised knuckles remained burned into the back of your thoughts.

and jungkook? he had only grown more restless by the day. whenever a memory of your fragile figure crossed his mind, a rare smile tugged at his lips—though never when anyone was looking. there had never been anything in his brutal life worth smiling about, but the mere thought of you made his chest tighten. you didn’t belong in his world, and that exact contrast had started a fire he had no intention of putting out.

“fuck’s wrong with you?” the rough voice of his trainer broke the silence of the studio, snapping jungkook out of his thoughts.

“nothing,” he snapped back coldly, irritated that the daydream had been cut short.

“yeah, bullshit. match’s in two weeks and you’re completely out of it. snap back.”

“tell me something i don’t know.”

“is it her? the girl that night?” his trainer scoffed, a knowing smirk forming on his face as he watched his champion. “saw you lookin’ at her. those rolls you love so much, that’s her baking.”

jungkook’s posture immediately locked. “what’s her name.”

“ahh, she’s my sweetheart,” the older man teased, intentionally pushing his buttons to see how deep the hook went. “sweetest little thing.”

jungkook tensed, his knuckles whitening as he barely stopped himself from grabbing his trainer by the collar. “don’t call her that.”

his trainer smirked, “there he is.”

he raised his hands in a mocking surrender, though his eyes stayed sharp. “look, i don’t know her name. i just call her that, you know me. i even told her to go home. but i need you on your game, kid. you’re too distracted and you’re as good as dead if you don’t focus. get up and fight.”

jungkook didn’t offer a reply, only throwing a bitter glare at the man before turning back to the heavy bag.

the studio filled with the rhythmic sounds of strikes. jungkook channeled the sudden surge of possessive anger into the leather, each punch hitting harder than the last.

mine. a violent left hook. mine. a heavy kick. mine. he threw his entire weight into the bag, his chest heaving as the shadow of any other man looking at you fueled his strength.

across the room, the trainer watched him through the wall mirror while taking a drink of water. he had never seen jungkook fight like a maniac driven by passion rather than discipline. in their line of work, attachment was a liability. and with the quarter-finals just two weeks away, the obsession was a dangerous wild card.

when the session finally ended, jungkook stood under the steaming water of the locker room showers, letting the heat wash over his strained muscles. he closed his eyes and the image of your face instantly brought a foreign sense of peace to his chaotic mind, one that quickly bled into a heavy aching heat low in his pelvis as his body hardened at the mere thought of your softness. the sheer intensity of wanting you was a dizzying rush—sweeter and far more lethal than any vice he had ever touched before. you were quickly becoming his favorite addiction.

after drying off, he pulled on a clean black long-sleeve, his usual woody cologne cutting through the damp air of the locker room. he slung his backpack over his shoulder and moved toward the exit. a man like him didn’t pursue something unless he intended to make it permanently his. he pulled his helmet on, snapping the visor down over his eyes. the engine of his motorcycle roared to life as he tore out into the street, turning away from his apartment and heading straight toward the quiet corner of the city.

the bakery had long gone quiet by the time you finished cleaning the last tray. only the faint hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the wall clock kept you company. you let out a tired sigh, wiping your hands on your apron as you scanned the small shop one last time.

oven off. register closed. back door locked.

after finally convincing yourself that everything was in place, you stepped out and locked the front door behind you. the cold night air immediately kissed your skin. adjusting the strap of your bag, you locked your gaze onto the pavement.

you barely made it five steps… “thanks for coming.”

you jumped, a violent lurch of adrenaline spiking in your chest. you spun around, bracing for a threat, only to freeze when you saw the tall figure leaning against the brick wall with a sly smirk on his lips.

as the panic began to leave your body, your shoulders dropped, your breath catching in the chilly air and condensing into a small cloud between you. jungkook watched it fade, completely mesmerized. he felt a sudden, absurd urge to trap that little cloud of breath in his palms—just to have proof that he could possess a piece of you.

you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, let alone digest the fact that the boxer was in front of you and thanking you for showing up the other night. you simply watched him step away from the wall as he closed the distance. he looked dangerous, yet there was a deep unreadable fondness in his gaze that kept you pinned to the spot. up close, the clean, sweet scent of cinnamon and vanilla drifted off your skin, hitting his senses so heavily his thoughts instantly turned dark. he wanted to taste it.

he let out a low grunt to ground himself. “been thinking about you.”

the confession hit you harder than it should have. your stomach tightened under his stare, your heart hammering against your ribs, but your instincts weren’t telling you to run. and you knew you should run from a man like him.

“y-you’re scaring me,” you managed to whisper.

his smirk only grew. “all the more reason to walk you home.”

before you could even process the words, he took a few steps ahead, turning back to look at you over his shoulder. “you coming?”

silence settled between you as you fell into step beside him. the only sound in the empty streets was the crisp crunch of your shoes against the gravel. jungkook walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders relaxed despite the possessive storm brewing underneath his skin. every nerve in his body screamed at him to reach out—to take your hand, to touch your sleeve, to feel the small of your back. but he restrained himself. he didn’t want to startle his little lamb.

beside him, your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. you wanted to break the heavy quiet, your mouth opening and closing as you searched for anything to say, but your mind was too overwhelmed to find the words. jungkook noticed your hesitation immediately. amused by your internal conflict, he kept his pace steady, patiently waiting for you to collect yourself.

“y-you didn’t have to do this,” you finally muttered.

he kept his eyes on the road ahead. “i know.”

you swallowed hard, fidgeting with your fingers. “y-you always… w-walk people home?”

jungkook paused for half a step, cutting his eyes down to you. “just you.”

the weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. the silence returned, but as you took the final turn toward your apartment building, the suffocating tension had shifted into something almost comfortable.

your steps slowed unconsciously as the old building came into view. dim hallway lights flickered weakly behind the grime-stained windows, and the paint peeled along the exterior walls from years of neglect. suddenly, a sharp prickle of embarrassment crept up your spine. you became acutely aware of the cracked concrete stairs, the rusted railings, and the terrible lighting.

you turned to face him, forcing a small breath past your lips. “u-umm… th-thank you for walking me.”

his gaze shifted from the decaying building to settle on your face. inside his pockets, his hands balled into tight, hard fists, his short nails biting into his palms to keep from reaching for you. his dark eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“get inside,” he commanded, his voice firm, low, and rough around the edges.

your lips parted slightly at the quiet intensity of his tone. you gave him a smallhesitant nod, turning toward the entrance. you didn’t have to look back to know he wouldn’t move an inch until you were safely behind locked doors.

the familiar silence of your rented studio welcomed you back instantly. your shoulders finally dropped as you leaned against the door, your eyes wandering across the small space. the mattress resting on the floor. the dim lamp near the wall. the neatly folded clothes tucked inside your duffel bag in the corner. the worn stuffed bunny sitting near your pillow exactly where you had left it this morning. everything looked the same. so why did you feel so different?

the cold night air felt sharper now that you were gone. jungkook walked down the empty street alone, his black boots scraping softly against the pavement as he made his way toward his bike. no one looking at him now would have guessed the chaotic mess sitting underneath his ribs.

he could have brought the bike closer. he could have offered you a ride, too. but jungkook understood that too much, too soon, would only send a girl like you running. so he had walked beside you instead. matched your pace. and fuck, he’d do it again.

his jaw tightened slightly as your apartment building flashed through his mind. those cracked stairs. the rusted railings. that dim hallway light flickering like it could die any second. something ugly twisted quietly in his chest. it wasn't disgust; it was a raw heavy wave of concern. his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, remembering how embarrassed you had looked while thanking him, as if you expected him to judge you. ridiculous.

that one had nearly fucked him up the most. it had taken everything in him not to snatch you up right then, carry you somewhere safe, and shut out the rest of this fucked-up world for good. but he hadn’t. because before he could save you, he had other plans...

“what the fuck was that?”

jungkook took a long drag from a water bottle entirely unfazed. “still won.”

“you call that winning?” the trainer snapped, throwing a bloodied towel onto jungkook’s lap. “everything i taught you, and you threw it out the window over what? a girl? you dropped your guard three times tonight. keep fighting like that and your brains will be painted all over the fucking ring before you can even think about her again.”

jungkook’s eyes went pitch-black, his jaw rolling. “leave her out of this.”

“that’s the problem—you can’t.” the room went dead silent. heavy. dangerous. jungkook didn't argue, because deep down, he knew the bastard was right.

“you’ve seen pretty girls before,” the trainer muttered quietly.

“not one i wanted to keep."

it was a little past midnight when your stomach started rumbling. a single slice of toast and a fried egg hadn’t been enough to sustain you. for the past hour, you had been tossing and turning, the cold from the floor beneath your mattress creeping into your backside. the silence of the tiny room only amplified the noise of your hunger until you finally decided enough was enough.

throwing your blanket aside, you swapped your pajama shorts for black sweatpants and pulled an oversized pink hoodie over your torso. you grabbed your small backpack, carefully counting the few crumpled bills between your fingers to mentally budget your expenses before stepping out. a few bucks was all you could afford. then again, it was all you ever could afford.

the walk was chilly, but the moment you stepped inside the 24-hour convenience store, the blast of heated air made your shoulders instantly relax. you slowly wandered toward the snack aisle under the soft fluorescent lights, completely oblivious to your surroundings.

but jungkook was already there. standing near the drinks section where he had been debating between a beer and a banana milk, looking to decompress after his brutal match. then you walked in, and the rest of the store simply ceased to exist. his dark eyes followed your figure. you looked utterly exhausted.

unaware of his gaze, you dragged your tired eyes over the shelves. cookies, instant noodles, chips—everything looked delicious. your fingers reached for a packet of chocolate biscuits, but a glance at the price tag made you quietly place it back. you picked up another snack, compared the numbers, and returned that one too.

watching from a distance, jungkook felt something unpleasantly tight twist in his chest. the way your eyebrows furrowed as you mentally calculated every single cent broke something inside him. when you finally settled on a small packet of crackers and a single snack bar, looking conflicted over whether you should even spend the money on both, he pushed himself off the refrigerator door.

the cashier barely looked up as you placed your items on the counter. you reached into your hoodie pocket, anxiously smoothing out the crumpled bills to count them one last time. right as you were about to hand the money over—THUD

your shoulders jumped as a handful of extra snack bars and drinks suddenly dropped onto the counter right beside your items. your wide eyes darted sideways, your panic instantly melting into shock when you recognized him.

he stood there clad entirely in black, his hair slightly damp and his knuckles raw and bruised. his dark eyes flicked down to the crumpled bills in your hand before sliding over to the cashier.

“she’s with me,” he commanded.

your lips parted. “n-no, you don’t have to—”

“she’s with me,” he cut you off, his tone simple, firm, and entirely unarguable.

you stood there awkwardly clutching your backpack straps while the cashier quickly scanned everything. jungkook looked completely unbothered, as if paying for your late-night cravings was the most natural thing in the world.

when the two of you stepped back outside, the cold air hit your face. you held the plastic bag close to your chest, watching him shove his hands deep into his pockets.

“you always go out this late?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

you glanced down shyly. “o-only when i can’t sleep.”

jungkook hummed softly, his eyes shifting toward a sleek black motorcycle parked near the curb. jungkook walked over to the bike and lifted his helmet from the seat, holding it out to you patiently. “c’mon.”

your fingers tightened around the plastic bag. “...w-where?”

“home,” he said naturally, “i’ll take you.”

the ride back was quiet. jungkook didn’t drive fast. the motorcycle barely growled beneath you, moving smooth and steady through the empty streets. you kept your distance, your hands lightly gripping the sides of the seat behind you, but jungkook could feel every tiny shift of your weight. he knew you were still nervous, and it only made the protective coil in his chest tighten.

within minutes, he pulled over near the curb of your apartment building, shutting off the engine. you stayed seated for a moment, carefully lifting the helmet off your head and smoothing down your messy hair. behind you, jungkook’s eyes drifted to your backpack. moving entirely on instinct, his large hand quietly unzipped the main compartment. he slipped his own snacks, the extra chocolate bar, and the banana milk inside before zipping it shut. he stepped back right as you turned around to face him.

“th-thank you for the snacks,” you said softly, handing him the helmet.

a heavy silence settling between you. you looked down at your shoes, fidgeting with your backpack strap, swallowing hard twice before you finally forced the words out.

“i-i’m y/n.”

jungkook just stared at you. his expression didn’t change, but inside, his chest shifted violently. you were letting him in. it was a tiny careful step, but you were giving him your name.

“y/n,” he repeated quietly, testing the weight of it on his tongue, memorizing the sound.

you gave a small nod, taking a step toward your building. “i-i’ll see you around... jungkook.”

that did it. out of all the roaring feral voices in that underground crowd, you had remembered his name. as he watched you disappear up the cracked concrete steps, jungkook exhaled a rough breathless laugh into the dark.

he was completely and utterly fucked.

you entered the bakery through the back door before dawn, your keys jingling softly in the quiet. one by one, the overhead fluorescent lights flickered to life as the ovens slowly warmed for the day ahead. the shop smelled exactly as it always did—warm sugar, cinnamon, and butter. but something felt entirely different.

curious, you stepped out from the kitchen toward the front counter. your movements stalled the moment your eyes landed on the glass surface.

banana milk. snack bars.

your heart stopped for a beat longer than it should have. he was here?

you stared at them for a long moment before quietly moving the banana milk into the refrigerator behind the counter, completely unaware of the small smile forming on your face.

the next morning, it happened again. banana milk and snack bars. then the morning after that. each day brought a different variety of treats, but the banana milk remained a constant. by the third morning, you stopped questioning how he was getting inside the bakery.

a few days later, around midday, the bell above the front door rang. you looked up to find a delivery man holding a brown paper bag, checking his phone.

“delivery for y/n,” he said.

you blinked. “i-i didn’t order anything.”

the man shrugged. “tall dude in black told me to send it here.”

he set the bag on the counter and left. you stepped closer, warmth radiating faintly through the paper. inside was a sealed container of hot soup and neatly packed rice, still steaming enough to create condensation on the lid. buried beneath the containers was a small scrap of paper.

‘eat’

your throat tightened for reasons you couldn’t fully understand.

as the days bled together, the surprises transformed into a comfortingly predictable rhythm. banana milk appeared in the mornings, sometimes paired by snacks, other times paired with a hot lunch. your mind found solace in the routine, and for the first time in months, your stomach wasn’t constantly rumbling.

until today. today, the counter was completely bare. unease settled over you. you spent the afternoon feeling strangely restless, growing quietly annoyed each time the door rang only for it to be a mere customer. you kept glancing toward the counter, checking the clock, expecting something you had no right to expect.

when the final light was switched off, you stepped outside and locked the door. you rested your forehead against the cool glass, letting out a long exhale to collect yourself. you were confused, tired, and a sudden sting pricked behind your eyes. had he forgotten? was that the end of it?

shaking your head at your own ridiculous reaction, you turned to begin the walk home. you paused after your very first step.

resting right on the concrete ledge by the door was a small bundle of flowers. three white daffodils, their stems bound carefully with a soft blue ribbon. a small white card rested between the petals. you pulled it free, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the script:

‘6 pm tomorrow. dont make me wait.’

your heart hammered against your ribs. your lips curved into a smile before you could even think to stop it.

knew i’d see him around.

you lifted the bouquet to your face, breathing in the sweet honey-like scent, your steps suddenly feeling infinitely lighter as you skipped down the street.

meanwhile, jungkook stood hidden in the shadows of a far alleyway, a cigarette resting between his fingers. he watched your entire transition from the edge of tears to skipping down the pavement.

he knew it was twisted, but he fed off the sight of you being this affected by him. he liked knowing he could shift your emotions with a single gesture, the sheer power of it sending a heavy demanding throb of heat low in his pelvis as he hardened under his pants. he liked that you had started looking for him the exact same way he had been hunting for you since the night in the ring. smoke curled past his lips as the darkness swallowed your figure. a slow smirk pulled at his mouth.

yeah, you will.

you woke up the next morning and headed out to run a few errands.

at the drugstore, you moved slowly through the aisles, picking up small things that made you feel like you were allowed to exist a little more gently. you wanted to feel pretty—though, you were already more than beautiful to begin with.

you picked out a mascara, a blush, a pink lip gloss, and a simple body spray scented with fresh pear, lily, and jasmine. you paid with a gift card you had been saving for something special, realizing that ‘special’ had recently started looking a lot like dark eyes and banana milk.

the rest of the day passed quietly in anticipation. later, you showered and got ready, keeping your makeup natural and careful. opening your duffel bag, you pulled out the one outfit you kept for when things mattered: a baby pink button-down cardigan paired with a cream flared skirt that stopped just above your knees. you tied your hair half up, finishing the look with clean socks and sneakers.

knock, knock, knock. you opened the door.

clad in dark cargos, a muted grey shirt beneath a black leather jacket, a silver chain rested against his collarbone. he smirked the moment his eyes landed on you, watching as you scanned his entire being.

“hello to you too.”

you blinked, caught off guard, before shaking your head. “h-how did you know my door?” you asked softly, eyes wide and unguarded.

“knocked on every one,” he said simply.

you hesitated. something about the way he said it made it sound less like a joke and more like something he expected you to accept without question. “o-oh,” you murmured, not fully believing him, but not rejecting it either.

jungkook didn’t explain further. he just looked at you quietly, taking in details he didn’t want to forget. then, after a deliberate pause, he muttered, “shall we?”

you nodded lightly and stepped out with him, locking the door behind you. it was then that his gaze shifted, landing directly on your hair. half tied up—with the soft blue ribbon woven through it. his smirk returned, slower and deeply restrained. you really didn’t know what you were doing to him.

outside the building, you walked toward his bike. conveniently, jungkook had two helmets now. you didn’t know that just yesterday, he had gone out of his way to buy a second one just for you, nor did he plan on admitting it anytime soon.

he held it out toward you and you took it carefully, slipping it on, and climbed onto the seat behind him. you hesitated for only a second before your arms slowly wrapped around his waist. fuck. his heart nearly punched through his ribs.

“hold on tighter,” he said lowly, revving the engine twice before pulling away from the curb.

the ride was smooth and steady, the city lights stretching around you in blurred streaks. you still didn’t know where he was taking you, but strangely you trusted him enough not to ask.

eventually, the bike slowed in front of a small restaurant tucked quietly between dimly lit buildings. you climbed off, removing the helmet to quickly fix your hair and smooth down your skirt. jungkook stepped beside you, and naturally—as if he’d done it a hundred times before—his hand found the small of your back. warm, firm, and grounding, guiding you toward the entrance. your eyes lifted toward the sign hanging on the glass. CLOSED.

“j-jungkook…” you murmured softly. “i-it’s closed.”

“don’t worry,” he replied easily, pulling the door open. “owner knows me.” then, with a brief glance down at you, “after you.”

you stepped into the quiet restaurant, the only real light glowing from a private corner deeper inside. suddenly, an older man emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

“so,” the older man said with a grin, stopping at the sight of you. “you’re the girl that made me close early today, huh?”

actual panic flashed across your face. the man burst out laughing almost immediately. “relax, darlin’ i’m kiddin’. you two go ahead and sit down, i’ll be over in a minute.”

jungkook quietly pulled your chair out for you before taking the seat across the table, his sharp eyes never really leaving you.

it was quiet for a few moments before you finally spoke. “y-you eat here often?”

“nope.”

“o-oh… then how does the owner know you?”

“beat up his nephew once.”

you stared at him.

“kidding.”

your shoulders loosened instantly, and jungkook fought back a smirk at how easy you were to read.

the owner returned with steaming plates of warm soup, grilled meat, rice, and side dishes. everything tasted amazing, the warmth softening something deep inside your chest. you became so focused on eating that you failed to notice how intensely jungkook was watching you. there was something deeply satisfying about seeing you eat properly, a warmth of protectiveness spreading heavily through his chest.

after thanking the owner, jungkook paid quietly in cash, and the two of you stepped back out into the cool spring night.

“ice cream?” he asked.

you blinked once before nodding almost immediately.

jungkook ordered for both of you without even asking what flavor you wanted: two scoops of chocolate. the truth was, he somehow already knew. you both sat together on a bench outside the shop, shoulders lightly touching while the cold night air drifted around you.

“h-how much do i owe you?”

jungkook turned toward you so fast it startled you, disbelief and annoyance flashing across his face. “you shittin’ me?”

your shoulders instinctively curled inward at the sudden verbal sting. “i-i’m sorry,” you murmured quietly. “i-i don’t know what i’m supposed to do.”

he sighed heavily through his nose, looking away into the street. “just sit there and look pretty,” he muttered, taking another bite of his ice cream. “...and eat your ice cream.”

the ride home was calm and peaceful. soon, the two of you stood in front of your apartment door while you searched through your bag for your keys. the lock turned with a soft click, and you turned back to face him.

“th-thank you… for tonight,” you said softly. “a-and for the snacks. the food too. y-you’re very kind.”

jungkook nearly scoffed. kind. if only you knew the thoughts he carried about you. still, he shrugged. “had to feed you somehow.”

you smiled at him—not nervous, shy, or uncertain, but warm and genuine. and fuck if that didn’t do something violent to his chest.

but then, his eyes drifted past your shoulder, into your apartment. suddenly, everything inside him tightened. the mattress on the floor, the duffel bag in the corner, the dim lamp, and the daffodils sitting carefully inside a plastic cup of water. you didn’t look like someone living in a home; you looked like someone trying very hard to survive. anger twisted quietly inside him. how the fuck was he supposed to live normally knowing this was what you came home to every night?

your sleepy, gentle voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “g-goodnight, jungkook.”

his eyes flickered once more past your shoulder, landing on the pink bunny resting against your pillow. his gaze softened before he could stop it. slowly, he lifted his large, tattooed hand, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“night, bunny.”

you stepped into the bakery with that familiar warmth hitting your face. you went about your business as usual—setting things up, preparing dough, and arranging pastries inside the display case—when the sudden buzz of your phone disrupted you.

unknown: have a good day

you froze, blinking in a brief flash of panic.

unknown: hope last night didnt scare u

phew. you mentally let out a breath, your fingers hovering nervously over the keyboard. typing, deleting, and typing again, you finally sent:

you: hi jungkook unknown: took u long enough you: how did you get my number? unknown: got it you: from where? unknown: somewhere

you physically frowned at the screen.

you: jungkook please unknown: bunny please

heat slowly crept into your face, causing you to look around the empty bakery for absolutely no reason. after a long pause, you typed back:

you: last night didn’t scare me

the dots bounced, disappeared, and bounced again.

jungkook: good

by the time the bakery finally emptied for the evening, you finished wiping down the last table and switched off the lights. you grabbed your bag stepped outside.

there was a sleek familiar black motorcycle parked by the curb. leaning against it was jungkook, arms crossed over his chest, his head lowered toward his phone. seeing him there instantly made the exhaustion of the day feel lighter.

his eyes lifted, meeting yours. “done?”

you blinked. “y-you didn’t tell me you were coming.”

he slowly pushed himself off the bike, “don’t need to.”

as the days passed, you slowly started getting used to him in tiny pieces. morning text messages, expected rides home, and the habit of checking your phone the second it buzzed—it all felt dangerously normal.

jungkook: bunny you: hello :) jungkook: u eat yet you: i had some bread jungkook: thats not food you: then what is it?

seen. five minutes passed, then ten. you frowned at your screen, wondering if you had annoyed him.

knock, knock. you walked to your apartment door and opened it to find a delivery driver holding a container of hot food, already paid for. you immediately grabbed your phone.

you: thank you for the food!! jungkook: np you: what? jungkook: no problem you: oh :D

a few evenings later, you were in the middle of closing up—wiping counters and stacking trays. then your phone lit up.

not even a minute later, the bell above the bakery door rang. you looked up to find him standing in the doorway, clad in a dark hoodie with his hands in his pockets.

“j-jungkook,” you gulped. “w-what are you doing here?”

“bored.”

“o-oh. w-well i’m just cleaning up, i doubt you’ll—”

“then don’t doubt.”

you hesitated, then nodded quickly. “o-okay, you can sit here. i won’t be too long.”

you shuffled around the kitchen nervously, entirely aware of his eyes following you religiously.

“why baking?” he suddenly asked.

you paused mid-wipe, taking a quiet breath. “i-it’s all i know. ‘m good at it. makes me happy.”

he nodded once, letting a beat pass before you eventually posed your question. “a-and you? w-why boxing?”

“it’s all i know. i’m good at it.” mirroring your words with a small smirk.

“b-but does it make you happy?”

he scoffed lightly. “no.”

you looked at him properly now. “w-what makes you happy?”

jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze boring into your soul. he knew the exact answer to that, but he was caught off guard that you were bold enough to ask that to a man like him. silly girl, you didn’t know what you were getting into. his smirk returned as he gave you the next best answer. “banana milk.”

after that night, his presence became permanent. sometimes he’d wait for you at closing; other times his bike was already idling outside your building before dawn. even late-night convenience store runs became routine.

until one evening, while you were putting away mixing bowls, jungkook suddenly spoke from behind you.

“taking you out tomorrow.”

“t-tomorrow?” you turned around, blinking.

“you don’t work tomorrow.”

“t-taking me out?”

jungkook scoffed quietly. “who else am i talking to?”

knock knock knock. you hurried to the door, smoothing down your skirt before throwing the lock. there he was, one hand tucked in his pocket, the other casually holding his helmet. his dark eyes dragged slowly from your face to your outfit before returning to meet your gaze.

“y-you’re staring,” you murmured, your cheeks warming.

“mhm.”

you looked away first, and jungkook smirked faintly, holding out the extra helmet. “c’mon.”

the ride felt different tonight. the city grew brighter the farther he drove, neon signs glowing against the dark streets until you finally arrived at the night market. your eyes widened at the colorful lights, the sea of crowds, and the delicious aroma of grilled meats and sugar blending into the cool air.

“stay close,” jungkook said simply, stepping into the crowd.

for the first few minutes, you kept getting distracted by little trinket stands and cute keychains. your attention drifted for one second too long, and a sudden wave of people passed between you.

your steps faltered. “j-jungk—”

a firm hand suddenly wrapped securely around your wrist.

“eek—!” you stumbled forward, landing right back against his side.

jungkook barely even looked back, his grip firm, warm, and entirely protective. “told you to stay close.”

“...s-sorry.”

he glanced down at you briefly. then, slowly, his grip loosened, his fingers sliding downward until his palm settled firmly against yours. just holding your hand so naturally as if letting go wasn’t an option. you didn’t want him to let go either.

a few minutes later, you were seated at a small open eating area. jungkook pulled his chair right next to yours and rested one arm over the back of your seat.

“i-it’s really good,” you said, taking another bite of a meat skewer.

jungkook glanced at you. “yeah?”

you nodded quickly, devouring the food with a satisfied hum. you noticed he had barely touched his own plate, his eyes completely fixed on you instead...

one night, it felt too still. your room was dark except for the faint streetlight glowing through the window. your mind wouldn’t settle, tossing and turning until your thumb finally hovered nervously over your screen.

you: you up? jungkook: ye jungkook: whats up you: can’t sleep :( hungry

the three dots appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.

jungkook: be down in 10

you sat up quickly, staring at the empty room and then back at the phone. he was actually coming…

you sat next to jungkook at a small table by the convenience store window, instant ramen steaming between you both. he ate like he always did—totally unbothered—while you kept blowing on your noodles longer than necessary. when you finished, he tossed the cups into the bin, and you followed him out into the cool night air.

at some point during the walk, your shoulders brushed slightly. when you reached the crossing, the red pedestrian light glowed faintly ahead. cars passed in soft streaks of sound. and then—jungkook’s hand found yours.

your breath paused slightly. his grip was firm and steady, entirely unhesitant. you looked down at your hands for half a second. then, slowly, your fingers shifted, lacing between his.

jungkook went completely still. not physically, but something in his brain absolutely short-circuited. his jaw tightened for a second like his body had stopped cooperating, but he kept his eyes anchored strictly forward at the crossing light.

the stairs echoed softly under your steps, your fingers still intertwined. when you finally reached your floor, the contact broke naturally as you fumbled through your bag for your keys, your hand feeling strangely cold without his hand.

you unlocked the door and turned toward him, a warm genuine smile breaking across your face. jungkook stared at you, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual.

“th-thank you, jungkook.”

“…yeah,” he said quietly.

you nodded once, turning to go inside. but halfway through the door, you paused. turning back quickly, you stepped forward and pressed a quick soft kiss to his cheek.

before he could react, you hurried inside. “g-goodnight!”

jungkook stood there in the silent hallway, his hand slowly lifting to the spot on his cheek. it was still warm. he stared at the wood for a long moment before letting out a quiet exhale through his nose. “…tch.”

things had gotten bad lately—bad in the sense that he saw you almost every day now. it had all slipped into place so naturally that neither of you questioned the rhythm of the texts filling your days:

you: drive safe jungkook: always do you: today a customer said my pastries were pretty!! jungkook: not just ur pastries

but one evening felt strangely off because jungkook wasn’t there. your phone buzzed while you were wiping down the bakery counters.

jungkook: cant pick u up tonight. got something to do jungkook: paid for ur cab. dont want u walking alone jungkook: text me when u get home you: okay :( be safe

the cab ride home felt lonely. unlocking your apartment door, you slipped your shoes off and turned on the lamp beside your mattress. then you paused.

sitting against your pillow was a brand-new, soft blue bunny. your old pink bunny rested right beside it like it had always belonged there. slowly, you picked it up, finding a small note slipped beneath it:

‘sleep with it’

a helplessly soft smile spread across your face. you pulled the plush toy against your chest and fell backward onto your mattress, completely unaware that miles away, jungkook was staring at his phone for the fifth time in ten minutes, waiting for your confirmation text.

the next day, your phone buzzed while you were busy with cookie cutters.

jungkook: we going out tomorrow you: okay :) where? jungkook: trust

the arcade had exhausted you in the best way possible. jungkook had spent half the night acting unimpressed while aggressively beating you at air hockey twice, followed by a quiet dinner where your legs brushed beneath the table.

and now, the city sat far beneath you, tiny lights blinking softly as the night air drifted across the hilltop overlook. jungkook leaned back against the railing while you stood beside him, staring out with wide eyes.

“p-pretty,” you whispered.

he looked at you instead. “mhm.”

“w-when i was little,” you started quietly, your hair moving in the wind, “i used to think clouds were solid. i thought if i climbed high enough, maybe i could sit on them. i-it’s stupid, right?”

“nah.” he shrugged once. “sounds like something you’d think. you got a soft brain.”

you gasped quietly. “i-i do not!”

“you think a piece of bread counts as a meal. hamster logic.”

“i-i thought i’m a bunny?” you huffed, your shoulder bumping lightly against his arm.

jungkook looked down at the contact, his expression softening before he could stop it.

“you always think like that?” he asked after a while. “like the world’s softer than it is.”

you looked down at your sleeves. “i-i think i just want it to be.”

silence fell, and jungkook’s jaw shifted. somehow, hearing that from you hurt in a place he didn’t have words for. without saying anything, he quietly stepped closer, narrowing the space between you. he noticed your hands disappearing into your oversized sleeves again.

as you rubbed your cold hands together, he reached over, took your wrist, and pulled your hand directly into the warm pocket of his hoodie, right beside his own.

“world’s not soft,” he said quietly, still staring out at the city lights. “people leave. things get shitty. things change. but…” he turned, looking you dead in the eyes with no teasing, no smirk, completely bare. “i’d keep you anyway.”

“h-huh?” you gulped, “w-why?”

he actually looked offended. “what do you think?”

the silence became incredibly heavy. before you could spiral into another thought, jungkook’s large hand lifted, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. his hand lingered on your cheek before carefully cupping your face. he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss right against your forehead. his eyes closed as he breathed quietly against your hair, offering a sense of certainty that was utterly terrifying. this felt real.

jungkook pulled back, his voice low. “let’s go.”

the ride home was quiet as his words replayed like a warning in your head. keep you.

why would he say something like that so easily? like keeping someone had ever been simple.

the walk upstairs felt slower, your hand resting in his even as your palm grew warm and slightly sweaty from anxiety. jungkook noticed it but remained silent. once you reached your door, you pulled away to grab your keys.

“th-thank you for tonight,” you said, offering a smaller smile.

before he could analyze it, you leaned up quickly, pressing another familiar kiss to his cheek, but you pulled away too fast, avoiding his eyes. “g-goodnight, jungkook.”

the door closed.

jungkook stood in the hall, his expression unreadable as his hand slid into his hoodie pocket. something felt off—subtle, but there. he exhaled through his nose and headed downstairs, assuming you were just tired, though the ride home felt strangely heavy.

inside, sleep wouldn’t come. you lay on your mattress, clutching the blue bunny tightly against your chest as tears burned your eyes.

people didn’t stay. eventually, they always got tired of your softness, your overthinking, and your constant need for reassurance. a man like jungkook was everything your brain should have warned you about—too intense, too dangerous. yet he made you feel safe, and that was the scariest part of all. your heart was wanting something permanent, but you knew jungkook deserved someone confident and exciting. not you.

your grip tightened around the plush fur as a single thought echoed in the dark: if you let yourself fall any deeper, you weren’t sure you’d survive him leaving too.

the change didn’t happen all at once, that was the worst part. it happened slowly, in pieces small enough that jungkook almost convinced himself he was imagining them.

replies started taking longer—minutes, hours. sometimes you’d type, stop, and then send something painfully short anyway.

jungkook: bunny you: yes? jungkook: whats wrong you: nothing :)

the smiley face bothered him more than if you’d said nothing at all.

and then came the excuses. “you don’t have to.” “i’m okay.” “i can walk home tonight.” every sentence sounded gentle, but jungkook heard the expanding distance underneath them. he noticed how your smiles ended quicker, how your eyes dropped, and how your hands stayed hidden deeper inside your sleeves.

even the food—you started refusing. “not hungry,” you’d softly say, despite him knowing damn well you hadn’t eaten all day.

but the bakery irritated him the most. whenever he arrived to pick you up, the lights were already off. chairs stacked. door locked. too fucking early.

standing outside one evening staring at the dark windows, he pulled his phone out.

jungkook: where r u you: home already :) left early cuz i was tired

jungkook stared at the message, his jaw tight. tired wasn’t the problem. he just didn’t understand why you suddenly kept slipping further away while standing right in front of him. also, he fucking hated that smiley face.

the sharp sound of gloves colliding echoed through the studio. jungkook ducked beneath a punch, landing one clean against his trainer’s side.

“again.”

“damn,” the older man breathed with a laugh, adjusting his stance. “at least let me age gracefully.”

jungkook rolled his shoulders, sweat clinging to his collar, his breathing steady despite the intensity. the semi-finals were less than two weeks away. usually, he became meaner and harder to deal with around this time. but lately, something had shifted.

“so,” the trainer started casually, circling him. “how’d the date go?”

jungkook threw another punch. blocked. then another. “good.”

the trainer blinked. that was already more information than usual. “yeah?”

“mhm.” a silence stretched between the sounds of gloves and footwork before jungkook spoke again on his own. “…somethin’s off though.”

that made the trainer pause for real. jungkook never talked first. ever. “off how?”

jungkook clicked his tongue quietly, leaning back against the ropes. “she’s pullin’ away. texts slower now. stopped lookin’ at me as much.” his jaw tightened. “closed the bakery early yesterday. knew i was gonna pick her up too.”

there was no mockery or detached amusement in his voice. just raw frustration and confusion.

“you ask her what’s wrong?”

“you think she’d tell me?” jungkook scoffed lightly, grabbing his water bottle. “nah. she gets in her head.”

“people do that, you know,” the older man said, peeling tape off his hand. “pull away. when things start mattering too much. girls like her? soft ones.”

jungkook looked away first. “she’s not soft.”

the trainer almost laughed. “right. and i’m twenty-five. she gets scared, kid. of losing things.”

and suddenly, jungkook remembered: people come and go.

the trainer tossed a towel onto his shoulder. “you’ve spent your whole life fighting for things. fighting people. fighting problems. fighting yourself. try staying still for once. just be patient. she’ll come around eventually.”

jungkook stared at the floor, his jaw flexing. he wanted to argue, but instead he only nodded. “yeah.”

it didn’t sound convincing, not even to himself. his gloves hung loose at his sides, his attention entirely gone from the gym.

for the first few days, jungkook actually listened. he stopped showing up at the bakery, stopped texting first every few hours, and stopped checking if you had eaten. he gave you space because his trainer said to stay still.

and for a while, it worked. training took over his days again. his body responded perfectly—sharp movements, clean hits, controlled breathing. but slowly, something started feeling entirely wrong. your texts had gotten way quieter. almost gone.

jungkook: eat yet? jungkook: bunny jungkook: yn? jungkook: everything okay? jungkook: why arent u answering me

the next morning, jungkook told himself he was overthinking. he told himself that while pulling on his hoodie, grabbing his keys, and starting his bike. there had to be an explanation. maybe your phone died, or maybe you were sick.

but the bakery bell never rang when he pushed the door, because the door didn’t budge. jungkook stared, his hand frozen around the handle. a paper sign was taped against the glass: PERMANENTLY CLOSED.

his stomach dropped to the ground. permanently closed? his eyes narrowed. no, that didn’t make sense. you would’ve told him. his hand went for his phone—nothing. no texts, no messages.

ten minutes later, he was at the convenience store, his eyes scanning the aisles. no sign of you. no familiar cardigan. no shy eyes peeking around shelves. he walked straight toward the cashier, who recognized him instantly. jungkook swallowed. “hey. you seen my girl?”

oops. the words slipped out naturally—my girl—but it was too late to take them back now.

the cashier frowned, shaking his head. “no.”

something ugly twisted in jungkook’s chest. he walked out and looked everywhere. the grocery store, the laundromat, the small street where he’d dropped you off to buy hair ribbons, the pharmacy. every place your eyes had ever lit up. nothing.

hours passed, the sun lowering and painting orange across the streets while his bike rolled through roads he’d already checked twice. his chest felt tight, a dangerous surge of panic setting in because the same thought kept replaying: you didn’t tell him.

the motorcycle engine barely had time to die before jungkook was already sprinting up the stairs of your building, his heart hammering against his ribs. he reached your door and knocked. he knocked for what felt like minutes only to have no one answering.

a nearby door creaked open and an older woman peeked out. “you looking for the bakery girl?”

jungkook turned so quickly it startled her. “yeah.”

she stared at him for a moment. “sweet thing. left a few days ago.”

everything inside him went dead still. “where?”

the woman frowned apologetically. “didn't say.”

jungkook stared at your door. the same door he’d walked you to almost every night, where you'd smiled at him and kissed his cheek. and now, there was nothing.

miles away, the small hotel room felt even quieter tonight. you sat curled against the headboard with your blanket pulled around you, staring down at your phone.

27 missed calls. 32 messages.

your thumb slowly moved across the keyboard.

you: i’m okay

you stared at it, delete. then, your fingers moved again.

you: i’m sorry

you looked at it for a little longer this time, delete.

you: i miss you

your breath caught. because that one hurt, it felt too honest and too real. your thumb hovered over send. you stared, then squeezed your eyes shut. delete. delete.

the words vanished instantly like they’d never existed at all. slowly, you dropped the phone beside you before burying your face into your bunnies.

you were tired. tired of thinking, tired of crying, tired of missing him. because every time you tried convincing yourself that leaving had been the right choice, your heart kept hitting back with: then why does it hurt this much?

the next afternoon, you sat quietly at a bus stop with your duffel bag resting beside your feet.

three days. three whole days. that was enough. enough crying, enough hiding, enough pretending that running away had magically fixed anything.

you stared down at your shoes absentmindedly while waiting, not really paying attention to anything around you. until two guys sitting a few seats away suddenly started talking loudly between themselves. you weren’t trying to listen. not really, but then—

“can’t wait for tonight.”

“...semi-finals gonna be crazy.”

“...heard that beast jungkook’s fighting too.”

your head lifted before you could stop yourself. jungkook. the name alone felt massive, vibrating in your chest. you had spent the last three days trying so hard to erase it and here it was, echoing in the open air. you stared ahead quietly still listening.

“…guy’s insane.”

“…heard nobody wants to fight him.”

your fingers tightened slowly around the strap of your bag. semi-finals? tonight? what if he gets hurt?

your eyes widened slightly. no. why would that even matter? the internal wall you had built over the last three days completely crumbling under the weight of a single thought. i just wanna see. just once. just to make sure he’s okay. that’s all. right?

your fingers tightened around the strap of your bag until your knuckles went white. then, slowly, you stepped on the bus.

you entered your apartment feeling tired and drained. for a moment, you simply stood there in the quiet stillness. after three days away, everything looked exactly the same, and yet nothing felt the same anymore. you felt like you had finally gotten your life together, only to lose it all within a matter of days: the bakery, your routine, your sense of direction, and somehow him too.

you took a shower, changed into a pair of jeans and a black shirt, and slipped on a black cap before heading back out. thoughts of jungkook filled your mind to the brim. you kept telling yourself you had to distance yourself to protect your own heart, but your actions completely disagreed.

less than an hour later, you found yourself making your way toward the abandoned building where the semi-finals were being held. this was the place where you first met him, where your life had slowly started changing, and where it all began. your stomach twisted, and you almost turned around… but your feet kept moving anyway.

you squeezed your way through the chaotic crowd, apologizing quietly as you reached your familiar corner near the back of the hall. music blasted from old speakers, neon lights flickered overhead, and the smell of alcohol and sweat lingered heavily in the air. scanning the room, you noticed far more people tonight than during your previous visit. every corner was packed with anticipation.

“ARE YOU READY?!” the announcer’s voice exploded through the speakers, and the crowd erupted, making the floor shake beneath your feet. “MEET YOUR CHAMPIONS!”

the audience welcomed each fighter with roars but nothing compared to what happened next. the announcer’s grin widened, his voice rising dramatically. “AND FINALLY! THE STRONGEST! THE WILDEST! THE BEAST! THE FEARED! JEON JUNGKOOOOOK!”

jungkook stepped out from the tunnel into the blinding lights. usually, he would have fed off the noise, the adrenaline, and the crowd’s obsession. but tonight, it felt distant, like he was hearing it from underwater. he walked toward the ring with a blank expression, eyes fixed forward. his mind wasn’t here; it hadn’t been here for days.

the first semi-final match ended within minutes, but you barely paid attention. your eyes kept drifting toward the opposite side of the hall where jungkook stood near the ropes, arms crossed and head lowered. something about him felt wrong. he looked deeply tired and it bothered you immensely.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” the announcer stepped forward again, and your stomach immediately tightened. the second semi-final. jungkook.

the bell rang and the fight began. at first, everything looked normal. jungkook moved effortlessly with sharp footwork and fast combinations, keeping you gripping the edge of the barrier, unable to look away. his opponent stumbled backward after a heavy hit, and the crowd exploded.

then, everything changed too fast. his opponent suddenly stepped forward, catching one opening with a massive swing. CRACK.

your breath stopped. jungkook’s head snapped sideways from the impact and he hit the floor. a collective massive groan ripped through the crowd. you had never seen him get knocked down before.

jungkook slowly pushed himself up and the referee continued the match. but something was severely wrong. his punches were slower, his reactions delayed, and his movements lacked their usual precision. his opponent noticed immediately and took brutal advantage.

your stomach twisted painfully with every hit as the crowd’s excitement turned into sheer confusion. jungkook kept forcing himself forward, but a kick landed against his ribs followed by a punch to his jaw. everything felt entirely distant to him.

outside the ring, his trainer’s face had gone pale. watching minutes pass as jungkook absorbed severe punishment. his head simply wasn’t here, and it was getting him hurt badly. after nearly five whole minutes, the trainer couldn’t take it anymore. “fuck this.”

without hesitation, he grabbed the towel and threw it.

the crowd erupted into a mix of boos, shouts, and confusion as the referee stepped between the fighters. the match was over. jungkook barely reacted, remaining on one knee, breathing heavily with blood running from the corner of his lip. the trainer climbed into the ring immediately.

the older man’s chest tightened. slowly, he hooked an arm beneath jungkook’s shoulders and pulled him up. together they made their way out of the ring toward the back. jungkook’s eyes remained fixed on the floor, completely unaware that somewhere within that same crowd, you were staring at him with tears already rolling down your face.

“hey, hey, kid. look at me.” his trainer crouched down in front of him, one hand tapping his cheek to keep his attention. the noise of the crowd sounded distant now, muffled, like it belonged to another world.

“had to throw in the towel, you were getting knocked out.” his brows furrowed with concern. “what happened out there?”

jungkook blinked once, twice. the bright lights overhead burned his eyes and his throat tightened. before he could stop it, his eyes turned red. tears gathered, then fell.

“i don’t know.” his voice cracked, small and broken, nothing like the fighter everyone feared. “i don't know what i did.”

the trainer’s chest tightened. right now, he didn’t see the champion or the beast; he saw the same angry teenager he’d picked up from the streets years ago and trained to survive. but right now, jungkook didn’t need a trainer—he needed someone to catch him before he completely fell apart.

“take a breath.” the older man handed him a water bottle. “here.”

jungkook’s hands trembled slightly as he took a few gulps, letting out a shaky breath. but the ache in his chest remained.

“i don’t know where she is.” his voice came out quieter this time, like he was talking more to himself than anyone else. “what did i do?”

trainer continued to listen—

“i tried giving her space. i stopped texting.” his eyes squeezed shut. “then i texted.” a bitter, pathetic laugh escaped him. “then i couldn’t stop texting. she won’t answer me. the bakery’s gone. she’s gone.”

a long silence passed, and then finally, his voice broke completely into uncontrollable sobs. “i miss her. you said she’d come around!”

the trainer let the moment sit, long enough for jungkook to breathe and for the tears to slow. then he leaned forward slightly.

“son, listen to me.” the older man’s voice remained steady and calm. “you love. you lose. you get hurt. that’s life. people break your heart. they leave. sometimes they come back. sometimes they don’t. you don’t get to decide any of that.” the older man reached over and squeezed the back of jungkook’s neck once, a familiar gesture since he was a teenager.

jungkook swallowed hard as the trainer continued. “you think you're the first idiot to fall in love?”

a weak laugh escaped jungkook despite everything, that showed a bit of progress.

“kid, you’re gonna get your heart broken a hundred different ways in this life. but if you’re lucky... you’ll find a few people worth the risk.”

a long silence passed before jungkook finally answered, “yeah.” it sounded weak but for now that was enough.

the crowd outside was still roaring, restless and wondering what had happened. the older man looked down at jungkook for a moment. “are you ready to get back out there... or are you done for tonight? either answer’s fine. you got nothin’ to prove to me. not anymore.”

that hit harder than any punch tonight. for years, everything had been about proving he was strong enough to survive.

“what if i lose?” jungkook finally whispered out loud.

“kid, if that girl can make you cry... some guy in boxing gloves ain’t the problem.”

despite the swollen jaw, the tears, and the ache in his chest, a tiny laugh escaped jungkook. the trainer smiled, seeing his kid instead of just the champion. he held out a hand.

“so. what's it gonna be?” the trainer’s hand pulled him to his feet. jungkook rolled his stiff shoulders, the bruises and emotional ache still very much present, but he felt lighter.

the crowd erupted into chaos as he stepped back toward the ring, their confusion quickly turning into absolute excitement.

jungkook climbed through the ropes. this time, he felt completely present for the first time all night. across from him, his opponent smirked, confident that victory was already theirs. jungkook simply stared back, expressionless and calm. he closed his eyes briefly, taking one final breath. and then—a quiet, soft, familiar voice whispered in the back of his mind.

‘come on.’

his eyes snapped open immediately. even though it was impossible, even though it made no sense, he knew.

meanwhile, somewhere within the crowd, your fingers tightened against your palm. the moment you had seen him return, something inside you had finally unclenched. the relief was immediate and overwhelming; he was okay.

you watched him step into position, watched him stand across from his opponent, watched him close his eyes, and without even realizing it—you whispered beneath your breath: ‘come on’ so quietly that not even the person standing beside you could have heard. a hope, a prayer, a plea.

the whistle blew. referee immediately stepped between them, counting one, two, three, while the crowd screamed louder with every number. your heart pounded because suddenly—it was over. the announcer nearly shouted himself hoarse: “YOUR WINNER JEON JUNGKOOK!!”

the crowd went wild but relief settled so heavily inside you that the noise faded out. adjusting your cap, you stepped backward and slipped toward the exit. seeing him was enough, and if you stayed, you knew you’d never be able to leave.

in the ring, the referee raised jungkook’s arm, but his eyes swept the arena and froze. a black cap, a familiar frame—it was you. he knew it in his chest before his brain could even process it.

yanking his arm free from the confused referee, jungkook leaped over the ropes and tore through the crowd. after weeks of searching and fearing the worst, there was no way in hell he was letting you disappear again.

the cold night air hit your face as you ran fast and blind through the streets, tears blurring your vision. overwhelmed by jungkook, the blood, and the terrifying way he’d fallen, you kept running until your feet finally slowed at the bakery.

it was dark, empty, and stripped of all its warmth. seeing your sanctuary—the first thing that had ever been yours after foster care—completely hollowed out broke you. sinking onto the cold concrete steps, you buried your face in your knees and sobbed, exhausted from losing everything and missing him so deeply it hurt.

back at the arena, jungkook shoved through the crowd like a man possessed. throwing on a shirt backstage, he bolted into the night before his trainer could say anything, sprinting through the streets on pure instinct toward the one place he knew you’d go.

when he turned the corner and saw you curled up on the bakery steps, his chest heaved with violent relief. you were real, alive, and right there. steadying his breath, he began walking toward you.

“there you are.”

you looked up to find him standing there. his tone mean and angry. his expression was blank, his chest rose and fell heavily like he’d been running for miles.

“j-jungkook…”

for a while, neither of you said anything. he just stared down at you, brows furrowed, breathing uneven, like he was trying to decide whether to yell at you or pull you into his arms.

“so you’re alive, huh.” his jaw tightened. “was startin’ to think you got buried somewhere.”

you flinched slightly at the bitterness in his voice, only now realizing that your impulsive trip out of town hadn’t just hurt you—it had wrecked him too.

“i-i was out of town,” you replied quietly.

“no. fucking. shit.” he laughed once, dry and disbelieving, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “i texted you, called you. you didn’t answer so i drove by here only to find out it’s been permanently closed.” his eyes flickered toward the dark bakery behind you, then back to you. “went all around town asking about you. went by your apartment and found out from some neighbor you left.”

your chest tightened. “i-i just needed to go away. just for a while, i—”

“yeah?” he cut in. “leave a fucking note next time, y/n.”

your breath hitched. because until now, you hadn’t understood—all this time, while you were drowning in your own thoughts, he’d been drowning too, looking for you, panicking, hurting. and somehow, that made the guilt feel even heavier.

“i-i’m sorry,” your fingers tightened against your sleeves. “i-i’m really sorry…”

“yeah, i bet.” he scoffed, pacing once before turning back to you. “what were you thinking? why the fuck would you do that to me?”

you flinched.

“i mean—i closed a fucking restaurant for you.” he gestured wildly, “took you on dates.”

your head lifted at that. dates. oh. so that’s what they were. jungkook noticed the look on your face immediately and it only made him more irritated.

“yeah. dates.” his voice dropped, mocking, like he couldn’t believe this was news to you. “drove you around. walked you home. made sure you actually ate something solid instead of surviving off a stupid fucking piece of bread.”

your lips parted. “i-i thought…” you hesitated, swallowing. “y-you were just being kind.”

“kind?!” he stared at you like you’d lost your mind. “you think i did all that ‘cause i’m kind?” he stepped closer. “if you knew what goes on in my head—” he stopped himself, jaw flexing, then shook his head. “we’d have problems, y/n. serious fucking problems.”

he continued, “you know, i couldn’t sleep. couldn’t rest. got me losing my fights and shit. you disappeared on me and suddenly showed up tonight like you didn’t just fuck me up.”

you shook your head, tears falling harder now. “y-you don’t understand. y-you make it sound so easy.”

his brows furrowed. “what’s easy?”

“th-this.” you gestured between you both. “w-whatever this is.” your breathing stuttered. “y-you say things like that and i—” you stopped, looking away because saying it felt too dangerous.

jungkook’s voice lowered. “and you what?”

“i-i start believing it.”

“believing what?” his voice came out lower now, rougher. “that i wanted you? that’s what scared you?” his brows furrowed, not mocking, but hurt. “me wanting you scared you that bad?”

you shook your head quickly. “n-no—it’s not that—”

“then what?”

you closed your eyes before finally admitting, “th-that you’d leave!” you sighed while looking at him, really looking at him. “i-i’m not easy. people leave. they put me in one family to the next all because i wasn’t good enough. i’m never good enough. and i can’t be who you want me to be.”

“you think i’m like them? you think i’m gonna get bored and leave you?” your silence cracked something in him and he shook his head slightly. “i know what happened before… but don’t you ever put me in the same sentence as people who left you.”

“y-you might change your mind one day. you’ll get bored of me. i-i know it.”

“oh, enough with your bullshit, y/n. you really think this ends with me walking away from you?”

you swallowed hard. “yes.”

the word came out shaky—daring, even. and that was it. something in him snapped and he didn’t argue anymore, didn’t try to convince you with words. he stepped forward and grabbed your wrist.

“j-jungkook—” you barely got his name out before he pulled you up, and dragged you with him. like he’d already made up his mind that if you wouldn’t believe him with words, he’d show you a reason to believe. “j-jungkook! where are we going?”

his jaw was tight, eyes forward, like if he looked at you right now he’d say something worse, or maybe something too honest. the city blurred past you both until eventually the familiar outline of the abandoned building came into view.

your breath caught. “j-jungkook, please, y-you’re scaring me”

the building was quieter now. most of the crowd had gone, with only remnants remaining—discarded bottles, sweat, blood, cigarette ash. he stopped at the wall, and then finally, he let go. your wrist fell limp at your side as you looked up.

jungkook turned and pointed at the wall. the names—rows of them, crossed out, some newer, all men, all marked. you stared, recognition flickering, remembering seeing them the first night back when none of this meant anything.

his chest rose and fell heavily. “read them.”

you frowned. “j-jungkook—”

“read.”

his voice was sharp, so you did, going one by one through twenty-something names and more, all crossed out.

“w-what is this?”

his eyes stayed on the wall. “every guy i’ve beaten in this building.”

he stepped closer beside you, close enough to feel the heat still radiating off him. “every one of them stepped into that ring thinking they’d break me. but they didn’t.”

he pointed at the names. his finger dragged lower to the newest one, the one from tonight. “all crossed out. see that?”

you swallowed.

he stepped closer. “none of them could do it.” his jaw tightened. “none of them could hurt me.” his eyes darkened. then—

“but you?” his voice dropped, low and deadly quiet. “you fucked me up worse than every name on that wall. and that’s just this wall.”

the words hit like a punch, leaving you staring at him, frozen.

“no fists.” he tapped his chest. “just this.” another step. “you disappeared and i stopped sleeping.” another. “stopped thinking.” another. “got my ass beat tonight because my head’s been stuck on you.”

your eyes filled again.

“you keep saying i’ll leave.” jungkook shook his head, disbelieving. “look at me.”

you did.

“look at what i am.” he spread his arms slightly, blood still dried at his knuckles. “this is what i do.” his eyes burned into yours. “this is where i belong… and i still chose you.”

his breathing slowed, but his voice didn’t soften.

“so don’t stand there and tell me what i should or shouldn’t want.” a pause, his eyes flicking over your face. “if i want you—” he stepped into your space, close enough your breaths tangled, “that’s my fucking choice.”

he dragged a hand over his face and shook his head once, like he couldn’t believe he even had to explain this. “god, y/n…” his voice dropped, rough and tired. “you have no idea what you do to me. i wait outside your bakery like an idiot. i drive across town at two in the morning because you’re hungry. you make me check my phone every five fucking minutes.”

your eyes watered.

jungkook stepped closer, slower this time. “you make me wanna slow down.” his voice dropped lower. “you make me feel calm. and angry. and insane. you make me care… and i don’t care about shit.”

your tears fell harder, because now it wasn’t vague anymore—it was real, specific, undeniable.

jungkook swallowed hard, “so don’t stand there and tell me this is easy. because i feel things i’ve spent my life avoiding.”

and there it was: truth. your lips parted, tears clinging to your lashes as you stared at him like you wanted to believe every word.

“p-people don’t feel like that about me. y-you’re just caught up in it. the fighting. the adrenaline. y-you don’t mean it.”

that did it. jungkook turned angry, disbelieving, then shook his head. his hand grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it.

“then what the fuck is this y/n?!”

there, right against his right ribcage: ink. y/n.

jungkook’s finger jabbed at it, “adrenaline? a phase? bored?”

your eyes widened and your entire body went still, because this—this wasn’t temporary. this wasn’t kindness, this wasn’t confusion… this was permanence. and suddenly, everything he’d been saying became terrifyingly real.

“j-jungkook…” your eyes stayed locked on the ink. your name. your name on him, permanent. your breath stuttered. “w-what did you do?”

his laugh came out sharp and disbelieving. “what does it look like?”

“j-jungkook!” your voice cracked. “th-that’s permanent!”

“yeah.” his answer came too fast, too certain.

“th-this is forever!”

jungkook stepped closer. “good. i’m not interested in temporary.” he took another step. “you think i put your name on me because i’m planning to walk away?”

you shook your head, overwhelmed. “y-you don’t know what you’re asking for.” you swallowed hard. “i-i don’t know how to be what you need.”

that one made him go still, really still. his voice softened just enough. “i just need you.”

your lips trembled. “i-i can’t.” you shook your head, tears falling faster now. “i-i can’t do this. y-you don’t understand what it feels like. i-i spent my whole life being left behind. passed around like i was nothing. never enough for anyone to stay.”

jungkook swallowed.

you looked at him, really looked at him, and that made it harder because he was everything—everything you ever wanted. “a-and then i met you. you made everything feel… warm.” your hand pressed against your chest like it hurt. “safe.” another tear slipped. “a-and i hate that.”

his brows pulled together, not angry, but wounded.

“b-because now i know what it feels like.” your voice dropped to almost a whisper. “a-and i can’t survive losing this.”

jungkook took a slow careful breath, like he was choosing his last words wisely. “y/n… i’m serious about you.”

you said nothing, just cried.

he stepped closer one last time. “i’m here. i want you.”

nothing. your eyes stayed on the ground, your silence killing him. then—his voice dropped lower, “…do you even want me?”

that one broke everything, because he sounded vulnerable now. his eyes searched for yours, begging quietly, desperately, but your gaze stayed on the ground. you couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, only cry.

and after a while, jungkook nodded once, slowly, like he understood, or thought he did. he swallowed hard. “okay… i’m sorry.”

your breath caught. his voice was empty now, flat. “forget this happened.” he looked away, wiped at his mouth. “i’ll take you home.”

then he turned and started walking. one step, two, three.

your head lifted in panic—real panic—because this was it. your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your chest tightened.

say something! say something before he gets farther, before it’s over.

you closed your eyes and confessed: “i do!”

jungkook stopped.

your tears fell harder as you forced it out, shaking and broken. “i do want you.”

slowly, he turned back around, his eyes landing on you immediately, “what did you just say?”

your breath hitched and you wiped your face quickly, but the tears didn’t stop. “i said… i want you.”

he stayed silent, not convinced, not yet. “say it again.”

your heart stuttered, but you stepped forward anyway, like something inside you finally stopped running. “i want you.” your voice cracked. “i want you, jungkook.”

your hands lifted before you even realized, pressing against his chest like you needed to hold onto something real. “i want you! i want you, i want you!” your voice broke fully now, tears spilling hard. “i want you, i want you—please—” you looked up at him now, completely undone. “i want you, jungkook.”

his name fell out like a plea. your fingers clenched into his shirt. “please believe me.”

jungkook looked down at you, and for the first time he didn’t look angry, didn’t look dominant, didn’t look sure. his voice came out quieter, controlled, careful. “swear it.”

your lips trembled, and then you broke: “i swear.” your face almost touched his chest as you shook your head. “i swear, jungkook. i swear, i swear—” your voice collapsed into itself. “i’m so sorry.”

his eyes flickered just slightly.

“i’m so sorry i hurt you.” your fingers tightened around his shirt like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go. “please… please don’t leave me.”

yet jungkook didn’t move, didn’t reach for you, didn’t pull you closer. he just stood there like he was holding himself together by force alone, his eyes stayed locked on yours, unblinking. then, quietly: “explain your actions.”

you blinked through tears, gathering yourself together before giving him an explanation that was well overdue. “i didn’t just leave because of you.”

he stayed still, listening.

“a few days ago… the bakery owner came by. he never comes. like… ever. he told me he was closing it, just like that. he gave me some money. said it was a ‘thank you’ for working there and i used it to get out of town.” a pause, your fingers trembling against him. “that was the first thing.” you exhaled shakily.

“second thing, after our third date…” you hesitated.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed slightly.

you forced yourself to continue. “when you said you’d keep me anyway… it scared me.” you shook your head quickly. “not because i didn’t want it. but because i’ve never done this before. i’ve never been someone’s… anything like this. i don’t know how to be a girlfriend. i just—i don’t know what i’m supposed to do.”

your hands clung tighter to him like he was the only thing keeping you upright.

“and i kept thinking…maybe you just… don’t know me enough yet. maybe if you did, you’d realize you deserve someone different.”

he remained silent.

“the bakery was all i had. it was the only thing that stayed… and then you happened. you kept showing up, taking care of me. it felt good. too good. and soon,” you swallowed as his eyes moved back to you. “i realized… i was in love with you.”

your confession came out mindlessly, hitting him a million times harder than ever. jungkook took a breath like he needed it to stay standing. his eyes stayed on you, and for a long moment he didn’t speak.

then, “…you’re unbelievable.”

your chest tightened immediately.

“you really think all of that…” he gestured slightly between you both. “…was you failing at something? you think i did all of that for someone i didn’t choose?”

jungkook stared at you like he was trying to make you see it. “you need to understand something,” his eyes softening just slightly. “i don’t do things halfway. if i show up, it’s because i want to.” his hands reached to touch your waist. “if i stay, it’s because i choose to.”

your tears fell again, quietly now, not frantic, just overflowing.

he exhaled, shaky this time, like it was finally getting to him too. “and you?” his eyes searched yours. “…you think you were just convenient to me?”

he shook his head once, small, hurt. “don’t do that. don’t remove yourself from this when i’m already here.”

his voice cracked slightly, “you said you’re in love with me… so stop acting like i’m not already in it with you.”

and that did it. jungkook’s last words hung in the air like something final, and then you broke. your hands grabbed at his shirt like you were afraid the ground would open up again. “i’m sorry—i’m sorry, i’m sorry—” the words tumbled out faster than your breath could follow. “i didn’t mean it like that, i didn’t mean to leave, i didn’t mean to hurt you—”

your voice cracked completely; you couldn’t even finish sentences anymore, just broken pieces of apology. his arms came around you steady and firm, like he’d been waiting for you to fall apart into him this whole time. your forehead pressed against him as your body shook.

his head lowered slowly until his face pressed near your neck. he breathed in, trying to ground himself in you. one hand slid up to the back of your head, fingers threading gently into your hair, cradling you there. his thumb moved in small, absent circles against your scalp, and his voice came out lower now, with no anger left in it, only something shaken. “shhh… shhh… it’s okay. i’ve got you. you’re here now, that’s all i care about.”

your hands clenched into his shirt as if that was the only thing keeping you real, and jungkook just stayed there, holding you through it. you both stayed there for a long while, relieved to finally be in each other’s embrace after all that tension and chaos. your breathing finally slowed, and the shaking turned into quiet hiccups instead of full sobs.

when you finally pulled back, your hands were still lightly gripping his shirt like you didn’t fully trust space yet. your eyes were puffy, red, but clearer as you looked at him like you were trying to memorize the fact he was still here.

“…from the bottom of my heart,” you whispered, voice still fragile, “i am sorry.”

jungkook didn’t hesitate. his thumb came up immediately, brushing across your cheek, wiping away what was left of your tears. “i forgive you.”

then he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. you let out a small shaky breath as a sad smile tugged at your lips. you hugged him again, then pulled back just enough to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“let’s get out of here.” jungkook tilted his head slightly. “come on. we’ll go home.”

you blinked at him, then quickly shook your head. “no—no…” you swallowed. “…i wanna go home with you.”

that made something in his expression soften again, almost amused, almost relieved. “wasn’t planning on going home alone, baby.”

your cheeks flushed instantly and you looked away like that helped. he took your hand instead, turning it over in his grip before pressing a slow kiss to the back of it, then started walking with you side by side.

“we’ll stop by your place and grab your things.”

you nodded quickly, your voice smaller but calmer now. “okay…”

and just as you were about to fully relax into the moment—his grip tightened slightly around your hand.

“and y/n…” you looked up at him. he didn’t look at you immediately, just kept walking. “…don’t ever fucking do that again.”

you packed just enough for a few nights—some clothes, your charger, toothbrush, and of course your two bunnies stuffed carefully into the bag.

the ride to his place was exciting and nerve-racking at the same time. your arms stayed locked around his waist the entire time, holding him tighter than you ever had before, your face pressed lightly into the fabric of his jacket. and jungkook didn’t miss it—his hand occasionally came down to cover yours, pressing your fingers flush against his stomach just to ground you.

when the bike finally rumbled to a stop in front of his apartment building, your eyes lifted. it was nice. really nice. clean, quiet, modern. nothing extravagant, but far from what you were used to.

you followed him into the lobby and into the elevator, watching the numbers climb in silence. then came a long, dimly lit hallway, stopping in front of a door near the end. he unlocked it, pushed it open, and stepped aside to let you go first. he came in after you, flicking the main lights on. and immediately—you froze.

“wow.”

it slipped out before you could filter it. jungkook glanced at you, then at his apartment, then back at you, a shoulder shrugging slightly. “it’s just an apartment.”

but to you, it wasn’t. it was warm. clean. big. the floors were polished dark wood, the couch looked plush and absurdly expensive, and a massive flat-screen sat against the main wall. wide windows stretched across the far side, the glowing city lights spilling across the room. it felt stable and safe. “make yourself at home.”

you looked back at him and nodded slowly, stepping deeper inside. you walked carefully, observing every small detail—the warm dimming light over the kitchen island, a pair of framed fight gloves hanging near a bookshelf, the comforting quiet of the space.

jungkook stayed where he was for a moment, and it hit him all over again. the girl he’d been losing his mind over—the girl he’d bled over, cried over, fought over—was here in his apartment. staying the night with him.

he tapped away on his phone, ordering something warm, filling, and heavy. after locking his screen, he found you standing by the massive window, looking out at the sprawling city below.

jungkook walked up behind you, and when his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest, your breath caught—but only for a second. then you melted, letting your full weight lean into him. his chin rested lightly near your shoulder, his broad chest radiating a deep, steadying warmth through your back.

your eyes stayed on the glowing grid below. “it’s pretty from up here.”

jungkook hummed, his grip tightening around you just a fraction. “yeah.” a beat passed, his voice dropping lower, rough against your ear. “got a better view right here though.”

your heart skipped a violent beat. a shy small smile tugged at your mouth, and you turned slowly within his hold until you were facing him. silence stretched between you where you just looked at each other. your gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips, and back up to his eyes again. your breath softened, your own lips pressing together unconsciously.

jungkook noticed. his eyes searched yours one last time, silent and asking, waiting for any sign of hesitation. and when you didn’t pull back, he leaned down. your eyes fluttered shut, and then—his lips touched yours.

everything stopped. all the running, all the fear, all the noise in your head—gone. jungkook’s hand slid up from your waist to the side of your face, his broad palm cupping your cheek, holding you there like he was terrified you’d slip through his fingers.

when he pulled back just a millimeter and kissed you again, you didn’t hesitate. you kissed him back.

his breath hitched against your mouth. the sweet compliant way you yielded to him snapped something inside his chest that had been coiled tight for months. his hand on your cheek slid down to wrap firmly around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair and tilting your head back.

the kiss shifted instantly—losing its cautious edge, growing dirtier, hungrier, heavier.

jungkook’s other arm hauled you flush against him by your waist, lifting you slightly so your toes were barely scraping the floor. he dragged his mouth across yours with an intense possessive friction, his tongue parting your lips to claim you completely. a soft, helpless gasp escaped your throat, and jungkook swallowed the sound whole, deepening the kiss until your head spun.

without breaking the kiss, he hooked your legs around him and walked to his sofa where he sat you on top of him. he pressed into you, anchoring you against his meaty thighs. his hands were everywhere—gripping your waist hard enough to leave faint pressure marks, sliding up your ribs, flattening against your back to pull your chest flush against his.

the taste of him overwhelmed you. you pulled him closer, trying your best to match his pace, it was your first kiss after all.

a low, raspy groan vibrated deep in jungkook’s throat when you accidentally arched your hips and grinded onto him—a sound so raw and undone it sent a wave of liquid heat straight to your stomach. his mouth left yours to drag down your jawline, his teeth nipping lightly at the sensitive skin right under your ear before sucking a harsh, bruising mark into your neck.

you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair. “jungkook”

he came back up, capturing your mouth in a wet, heavy kiss that cut off your words entirely. his hips pressed firmly down against yours, leaving absolutely no doubt about what you were doing to him, the hard line of his body pressing ruthlessly against your core. it was heavy, suffocating, and addicting.

when he finally tore his mouth away, both of you were gasping for air, chest heaving against chest. his forehead dropped heavily against yours, his eyes dark, blown out, and completely feral as he stared down at you.

“fuck,” he rasped, his voice wrecked, completely ruined by the sheer effort of holding himself back.

a tiny, breathless laugh bubbled up from your chest. “you kissed me.”

his mouth twitched, a dangerous heat still flickering in his eyes. “yeah. been wanting to do that.”

your cheeks burned hot, but this time, you didn't look away. you stayed right there, trapped against him, letting him see every bit of the effect he had on you.

jungkook growled softly, bringing his mouth back down on yours with zero caution left. it was hard, messy, and commanding. his hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly to adjust you on him, his chest crushing yours while his tongue worked over yours with a possessive, filthy intensity that made your mind go completely blank. you clung to him like a lifeline, dizzy from the heavy touch of him, completely lost in the way he claimed every breath out of your lungs.

ding-dong. the chime of the doorbell echoed sharply through the quiet apartment.

jungkook froze mid-kiss, his forehead resting against yours. he stared up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and let out a dry, disbelieving laugh.

“…saved by dinner.”

you laughed—a real, bright, breathless sound that bubbled right out of your chest. jungkook looked down at you, his softened expression melting into pure quiet devotion as he watched you smile.

dinner was nothing fancy. just takeout spread across his sleek kitchen counter. jungkook kept putting food onto your plate every time he noticed you slowing down, and you kept eating it, this time without him having to argue, press, or tease you into taking another bite.

when you were finally done, he gathered the plastic containers, tossed them in the trash, and wiped his hands on a napkin before glancing back at you. “you can use the shower.”

you hesitated, your fingers twisting together nervously in your lap. “can… can i borrow one of your shirts?”

his eyes flickered, “to sleep?”

you nodded, swallowing hard.

his jaw shifted, a muscle flexing in his cheek. “yeah.” he cleared his throat, looking away toward the hallway to catch his breath. “top drawer.”

you disappeared into the bathroom after that, shutting the door quietly behind you.

jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through his phone—or pretending to. his mind kept circling back to you. here. in his place. wearing his clothes. wanting him. it was fucking with him bad. when the bathroom door opened with a soft click, he looked up, and forgot how to breathe.

your hair was still damp, sticking slightly to the nape of your neck. your skin was clean, bare, and glowing soft under the hall light. his shirt hung ridiculously loose on your small frame, the shoulders drooping and the sleeves falling past your elbows. too big, too perfect. you stopped right in your tracks, staring at him as he sat frozen on the mattress. “what’s wrong?”

jungkook blinked once, forced his eyes up. “nothin’.”

your brows narrowed in suspicion. “what are you thinking?”

he looked you up and down once—slowly, deliberately, dragging his eyes over the bare skin of your legs before bringing his gaze back up to your face. “nothin’ safe.”

your eyes widened in shock. “jungkook!”

he laughed, low and easy, the tension breaking as he finally pushed himself off the bed and walked toward you. when he reached you, his heavy hands slid briefly over your waist before he leaned down, his mouth brushing right near your temple. “wait for me in bed.”

his lips pressed firmly against your forehead, lingering there for a long beat. he inhaled softly—taking in the scent of his own soap, warm and sweet on your skin. fuck. he pulled away and walked into the bathroom before he could do something stupid.

the shower didn’t help. if anything, it made it ten times worse, because all he could picture was you lying under his sheets, waiting for him.

when he finally came out—grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp, skin radiating heat from the water—you were already there. tucked under his heavy comforter, sitting quietly with the sheets pulled up to your chest.

his chest tightened violently at the sight. then his eyes moved around the room, searching the nightstands and the floor. “where’re your bunnies?”

you looked up at him, then shook your head softly. “not tonight… i just want you.”

a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. he walked over and climbed into bed beside you, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. then, his arm slid heavy around your waist, pulling you flush into his side like pure instinct. your head rested naturally against his bare chest, his heartbeat slow, deep, and steady beneath your cheek.

your arms tightened around his waist, pulling yourself as close to him as physically possible. jungkook kissed the top of your head before you both drifted into your slumber.

when you woke up, the room was warm and quiet. sunlight spilled through the gap in the heavy curtains, painting pale, glowing lines across the dark sheets.

you stretched a little, your body still heavy with sleep. the slight movement stirred him. you tilted your head up. his hair was messy, sticking up in soft tufts. his eyes were still closed, his mouth slightly parted, long lashes resting against his skin. something about seeing him like this—so unguarded, so entirely yours—made a soft smile touch your lips.

“good morning.”

jungkook’s hand moved lazily into your hair, his broad fingers brushing over your scalp without him even opening his eyes. “mmm.”

you giggled softly at the sound. “sleep well?”

his voice came out deep, rough, and heavy with sleep. “best fuckin’ sleep ever.”

that made you laugh, a sweet sound in the quiet room. “me too.”

neither of you in any rush to move or start the day. your fingers wandered absently over the bare skin of his side, trailing lightly over his ribs—until they landed right on the texture of the ink. your name.

you traced the letters carefully, feeling every line. jungkook’s eyes opened at the touch, his dark gaze dropping to watch your fingers move over his side.

your voice came barely above a whisper, “did it hurt?”

“mhm...” he looked down at your face, his thumb stroking the soft skin of your waist. “but not as much as you leaving.”

your chest tightened immediately. your fingers stilled on his ribs and a wave of guilt flickered across your face so fast he caught it instantly.

jungkook frowned—he didn’t like that look on you. not anymore. his hand came up, his fingers cupping your jaw and tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him.

“hey,” his voice was low and firm. “i already forgave you.”

you swallowed hard. “i know, but—”

“no.”

before you could finish the thought, he pulled you closer, tugging you higher until your chest was pressed against his. still half asleep, still radiating heat. he rested his chin right on top of your head.

“you’re here, that’s all i wanted.”

for a little while longer, neither of you moved. just stayed there, tangled up in each other, like the morning had nowhere else to be and the rest of the world could wait.

the rest of the day passed quietly, like both of you were still adjusting to the beautiful reality of it all. you stayed in. neither of you had the energy to go anywhere after everything that had happened, so jungkook threw on some random action movie that neither of you paid attention to.

you sat curled into his side on the couch while takeout containers piled up on the coffee table. sometimes he’d absentmindedly feed you pieces of his food when he noticed you staring; sometimes you’d steal his drink right out of his hand. just small domestic moments that felt a little strange at first, but completely right.

the next two days passed like this… slow mornings, late breakfasts, shared showers—separate ones for now. tv playing softly in the background while jungkook trained lightly in the living room, doing push-ups and stretching while you sat nearby watching some baking show. more takeout, more after-dinner walks, more laughter. and sometimes, more kissing…

little things at first: quick kisses in the kitchen, sleepy kisses in bed before your eyes could fully open, lingering ones on the couch. but sometimes, they got heavier. hungrier.

like the one where you sat right in his lap, your hands tangled in his dark hair while jungkook kissed you like he was trying very hard not to lose his mind. his grip on your waist tightened until your hips were crushed flush against his and your breath caught sharply against his mouth.

once, you even felt so confident you lifted your shirt to reveal yourself in your lacy bra while grinding on his hard and hungry cock. and for a second, he almost forgot himself. but he pulled away suddenly, his forehead thudding against yours as his chest heaved, breathing hard and ragged.

“fuck.” jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, his jaw flexing tight. “gimme five minutes.”

before you could even ask, he stood up, setting you gently on the cushion, and disappeared down the hall into the bathroom. a second later, the sharp hiss of the shower turned on—ice cold.

you stared after him, then slowly smiled to yourself, hiding your face in your hands. because even now—even when he wanted more, when his whole body was burning for you, he still stopped. somehow, knowing that he wouldn’t let himself takeover if you weren’t ready, made your heart fall even harder.

by the third night, the apartment was quiet except for the low muffled sounds of the tv screen—some loud violent movie jungkook had put on.

you weren’t really watching it. jungkook sat beside you, legs spread comfortably, one arm stretched across the back of the couch while he sipped on his banana milk, eyes completely glued to the screen.

you looked at him for a moment, then quietly: “koo…”

his brows twitched. a small, low hum left him. “hmm?” eyes still on the screen.

your fingers played nervously with the hem of his oversized shirt you were still wearing. “i should probably go back tomorrow.”

that got his attention immediately. his eyes moved off the screen. he grabbed the remote, paused the movie, set his drink down on the table, and turned fully toward you, his gaze intent.

“okay… sure.”

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “i still have about a week left before they renew my lease.”

he stayed quiet, watching and listening.

your hands twisted together in your lap. “but i was thinking of canceling it.”

jungkook stared, his brain processing the words. “where’re you gonna go?”

your voice came out smaller this time, but completely honest. “home. here.” your eyes searched his, suddenly hit with a wave of uncertainty. “with you?”

jungkook’s expression softened immediately, looking at you like there was no world where this was even a question in his mind. “i’d love nothing more than that.”

your breath caught. “really?”

“you’re really askin’ me if i want you here?” a small breath of pure disbelief left him. “i was tryna figure out how to get you to stay.”

that made you laugh—a small, breathless sound of relief. you threw your arms around his neck. jungkook caught you easily, his strong arms hooking under your thighs and pulling you straight into his lap, holding you there as you were his entire world.

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his skin.

“don’t thank me.” he rubbed your back slowly, his large palm tracing soothing circles against your spine. “you stay here… with me.” jungkook leaned down and kissed you. for the first time in your entire life as you held onto him, you finally felt like you were home.

the next morning after breakfast, jungkook called a cab; because despite everything, his bike wasn’t exactly ideal for moving… not that there was much to move anyway.

when you got back to your apartment, it took less than twenty minutes to pack up. your toiletries, clothes, cooking book, bedsheet, blanket, and the pillow tucked under your arm. your winter boots tied together by their laces and thrown into a plastic bag. that was it. everything you owned in the world.

when it was finally time to leave, you stood by the door for a long moment, looking back around the empty space. the apartment was small, cold, half-broken. the walls were chipped, the sink leaked constantly, and the heater barely worked in the dead of winter. but somehow, you had made it yours. after the bakery, this place had become your second sanctuary. the place you came back to every night. the place where you’d cried, read, slept, survived. it wasn’t much. but it had held you when you had nothing else.

your fingers brushed the cool wood of the doorframe once as you gave a silent goodbye. you took one deep breath, turned away, and walked out into the hall, starting a new life with the man who had chosen you long before realized you had been chosen.

sooner or later, jungkook had to go back to the studio; his trainer had been blowing up his phone for days. when he finally walked into the gym, the older man looked him up and down from the ring.

the trainer crossed his arms, stepping out between the ropes. “where the hell’ve you been?”

jungkook grabbed his hand wraps, unrolling them calmly. “with her.”

the trainer blinked, then a slow smirk spread across his face. “yeah?”

jungkook shrugged like it was nothing, wrapping his knuckles with practiced ease. “we’re together.”

that alone almost made the man laugh, but then jungkook added without looking up: “she moved in.”

that shut him up instantly. for a full second, the gym was silent.

“…damn,” the trainer finally shook his head, whistling under his breath. “you move fast.”

jungkook smirked, pulling the wrap tight around his wrist. “she moves slow. balances out.”

the trainer laughed, shaking his head. “you dog.”

the days quickly found their own rhythm. jungkook trained, and you stayed. after what felt like years, you finally rested. no rushing, no constantly trying to survive the next hour. you slept in, cleaned up his place, and slowly figured out where everything went. and eventually, you started cooking. simple things at first, then baking, using his modern kitchen like it had always belonged to you.

most mornings, he’d leave early for the studio, leaving you to wake up in his oversized bed alone with his side of the mattress still warm. sometimes he’d leave a stack of cash by the kitchen counter for groceries or whatever else you needed.it was his way of taking care of you.

some days, you’d take walks on your own, wandering through nearby streets, discovering little local shops, and buying small things you needed—a few new clothes, socks, hair ties, basic things you hadn’t bought for yourself in a very long time. it felt nice. it felt normal.

late afternoon sunlight spilled lazily across the living room floor while soft music played somewhere in the background. the warm, sweet smell of cinnamon still lingered in the air from the batch of rolls you’d baked that morning.

jungkook came home later than usual. he looked exhausted—his shoulders sore, his dark hair sticking damply to his forehead, and a fresh bruise blooming right beneath his collarbone.

he dropped his heavy gym bag by the entryway, kicked off his shoes, and before he even had time to look around, you were already walking toward him.

“hey.” your smile was small, sleepy, and comfortable—the kind of look that only belonged to home.

he barely managed to mumble a quiet greeting before your hands found his face, checking him over instinctively. your thumb brushed over the broken skin carefully.

“you okay?”

he nodded once, heavy-lidded. “mhm.”

“hurt?”

“nah.”

you gave him a sharp, knowing look. “liar.”

his mouth twitched. “a little.”

you sighed dramatically, then stood up on your toes, pressing your lips to the corner of the bruise on his neck, as if that small gesture could somehow fix the damage.

“better?”

jungkook looked down at you, his dark eyes softening completely. “yeah.”

you smiled, and turned back toward the kitchen. “dinner’s almost ready.”

he didn’t move. he just stood by the front door, watching you. his kitchen, your kitchen now. his apartment, your home too.

you looked over your shoulder, catching his gaze. “koo?”

“come here.” his voice came quiet.

“but the food…” you frowned playfully.

“baby.”

that tone—deep, low and unyielding, had you weak in the knees. you smiled to yourself and turned down the flame and walked back over, stopping right in front of him. “what’s up, koo?”

his hands found your waist automatically, pulling you flush against him until your bodies touched.

“i’ve been thinking…” his gaze softened as he looked at you, his thumb tracing slow circles against your waist. “about what would've happened if you never came back.”

“what?” your smile faded slightly.

he swallowed. “what if you didn’t want me?”

“koo…” your heart tightened.

he squeezed your hand gently when you reached for it, “i was scared. i kept thinkin’ maybe i was the only one who’d decided this was forever.”

you intertwined your fingers with his.

“then you came back. and every morning since then, i wake up, and you’re there. i come home, and you’re there. i open the fridge, and you baked somethin’.”

a small laugh escaped you. he lifted your intertwined hands pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours.

“i don't really know when it happened,” he murmured. “but all i know is i don’t remember what life felt like before you… and i don’t wanna.”

your eyes shimmered as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek.

“i love you.”

your eyes filled completely, a tiny laugh escaping between your tears. “i love you too,” your voice came out barely above a whisper. “…i love you too, koo.”

jungkook closed his eyes for a second, as though he’d finally released a breath he’d been holding for far too long. then he smiled, not the cocky smirk, not the teasing grin. the real one. the rare smile almost nobody else ever got to see. he kissed you slowly, deeply, pressing his mouth against yours like there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.

and somewhere behind you in the kitchen, something began to smell faintly burnt. you pulled away first, eyes widening. “uh oh… the stew.”

you both looked toward the kitchen, then at each other, before bursting into laughter—because somehow, almost burning dinner felt like the absolute smallest problem either of you had ever had.

weeks turned into a full month, and you eventually started visiting the studio. sometimes you brought him lunch, sometimes fresh pastries, and sometimes you came just because you wanted to see him.

at first, you stayed in the far corner. but without even realizing it, you started stepping directly into his world. you weren’t scared anymore, just watching, learning and understanding. because loving him meant seeing all of him, even the raw bruised edges.

and always, between rounds, his eyes would find you. without fail.

something about that gaze locked onto you across the gym made your chest swell with warmth. even in the middle of all that chaos and exertion, he still looked for you.

the trainer noticed it too, tossing his head back with a loud groan. “oi, lover boy. stop starin’ at your girl and hit the damn bag.”

you laughed softly from the bench. jungkook didn’t—he just narrowed his eyes at the older man and threw a brutal combination into the leather.

one afternoon at the studio, while you sat beside the trainer handing him a fresh cinnamon roll, the man said it casually:

“final’s in two weeks.”

your eyes lifted sharply. jungkook was inside the ring, hitting the heavy bag harder, faster, the dull thuds echoing off the high ceiling. your fingers tightened slightly around the plastic tupperware in your lap.

you stayed quiet, watching the muscles in his back flex with every strike, finally understanding what was coming—and what it could cost him.

later that night, dinner was simple—grilled beef with rice and veggies you’d prepared while jungkook sat at the counter, quietly watching you move around the kitchen. after you both ate and cleaned up the dishes, he disappeared toward the back of the apartment.

when you came out of the shower later, your hair damp and skin warm, the apartment felt strangely empty. then you noticed the balcony door cracked open just a few inches.

jungkook stood outside in the cool night air, leaning his heavy forearms against the metal railing. one hand held a burning cigarette, a thin trail of gray smoke drifting past his jaw.

you stared at his silhouette for a second, then slid the glass door open and stepped out. the cool breeze hit your bare legs immediately.

jungkook glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes softening instantly at the sight of you standing there—fresh out of the shower, wearing another one of his oversized shirts. his gaze lingering for a beat before he looked back out at the skyline.

you stepped right beside him, leaning your elbows on the railing, matching his posture, watching the city together. after a long moment: “you nervous?”

jungkook let out a low breath through his nose, half amused, half caught. “that obvious?”

you looked down at the cigarette between his fingers.

he followed your gaze, his jaw working. “don’t usually do this unless somethin’s on my mind.”

you nodded softly.

then: “two weeks,” he murmured. “winner takes all.”

“and if you lose?”

“i don’t.”

it wasn’t arrogance. just a cold absolute fact. you understood that about him now.

still, you looked down at his bruised knuckles resting against the metal bar, the fading yellow marks on his forearms, the hidden scars on his ribs and jaw. your chest tightened painfully.

“i’ll be there. for the finals. for all of it.”

something shifted deep in his eyes at those words—a powerful flare of emotion. he looked away again, taking one last long drag before crushing the cigarette out in the metal tray.

“don’t like you seeing me like that,” he muttered softly.

you frowned slightly. “like what?”

his voice lowered to a dark rumble. “bleeding.”

“i don’t like it either.”your expression softened completely. you stepped closer, closing the distance between you, and rested your head lightly against his shoulder. “but i know it’s part of you, and i’m here anyway.”

that right there—if it were possible right now, he’d have you wifed up and safely settled into his life. but there were still things he needed to put right first. and so, he leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against your forehead, lingering there for a long heavy beat.

you wrinkled your nose slightly. “koo...”

he blinked, pulling back just an inch. “what?”

you looked up at him, “go shower.”

his brows furrowed in disbelief. “why?”

you gave him a sharp look. “you stink.”

jungkook scoffed under his breath, a low laugh vibrating in his chest as he shook his head, following you back inside the warm apartment. “you’re lucky i like you.”

you looked over your shoulder with a subtle smirk. “you’re lucky i let you.”

that made him stop dead in his tracks for a second, just staring at your retreating back. then a slow, dangerous smirk spread across his lips.

you rolled your eyes playfully and walked ahead into the bedroom. jungkook watched you disappear down the dark hallway before dragging a hand over his face, a low groan escaping his throat.

fuck. you were getting way too comfortable. and that only made him want you a hundred times more.

a few minutes later, the bathroom door opened, steam followed him out into the bedroom while you sat on the edge of the bed absentmindedly brushing through your hair. your eyes lifted, and immediately dropped.

jungkook stood there in nothing but sweatpants. hair damp, water still trailing down his neck, over the cut line of his collarbone, and down the broad expanse of his chest.

you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry.

“what?” he asked, rubbing a towel through his damp hair, his dark eyes tracking you carefully.

“nothing.”

“liar.” his mouth twitched into a knowing smirk. he stopped right in front of you where you sat on the edge, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “you keep lookin’ at me like that.”

your breath caught in your throat. “like what?”

he leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer, “like you want somethin’.”

your hands slowly came up, resting against his stomach. his abs flexed tight beneath your palms. you slid your fingers higher, lightly tracing over the dark ink on his ribs. his broad hand found your waist, slid right beneath the hem of his shirt, resting flush against your bare skin. your body leaned into his touch without a second of hesitation. jungkook exhaled a heavy breath, his head dropping slightly as if he’d been holding himself together by a thread all night.

“you’re makin’ it real hard to be good,” he rasped, his thumb stroking the soft curve of your hip.

you smiled a little— shy but laced with a sudden confidence. “who said you had to be?”

that—that made him freeze completely. his eyes darkened, searching your face intently, stripping away every joke and tease, to make sure.

“y/n.” his voice dropped into a rough warning, thick with a question he barely dared to ask out loud.

you answered by reaching up and pulling him down by his neck.

and this time, when his mouth hit yours, it felt entirely different. slower, deeper, heavy with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks. the kiss turned messy, breathless, and urgent in seconds. jungkook followed you without a drop of resistance as you backed up onto the bed, his hands roaming over your waist, your hips, the small of your back, gripping you firmly like he was trying to hold onto all of you at once.

your fingers tangled tight into his damp hair, tugging softly, earning a deep, low groan that vibrated straight from his chest into your mouth.

his kisses dragged down your jawline, pressing hot and needy against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. your breathing turned shallow and uneven, your hands finding the hem of the shirt again.

slowly, you lifted it up over your head and tossed it aside. and jungkook stopped moving completely.

he pushed himself up on his forearms, his dark eyes dragging over your bare torso—no bra. nothing between his gaze and your skin. the heavy strain beneath the low waist of his sweatpants was impossible to miss now, his cock hard and entirely flushed with heat.

“baby...” his voice came out so rough, so deep, it sounded like it physically hurt him to speak.

your heart pounded against your ribs like a trapped bird, but you didn’t pull away. you didn’t cover yourself. “i want you.”

those three words nearly snapped the last thread of his restraint. you felt the violent shudder that ran through his whole frame. but still—he held himself back. because it was you. because this wasn’t just physical; it mattered too much.

“you sure?”

“yes.” you nodded, tears of sheer emotion pricking at the corners of your eyes from how overwhelming the weight of his devotion felt. your hand reached up, cupping his jaw, steady and soft against his stubble. “i love you. i want this.”

jungkook let out a ragged groan, dropping his forehead against yours for a long second, his eyes shut tight as he squeezed his muscles to keep from rushing. then his mouth found yours again—harder, hungrier, desperate.

“you got any idea what you do to me?” his words fell against your lips between bruising kisses.

“how you make me feel?” another kiss, deeper, pulling a soft gasp from your throat.

“you’re so fucking beautiful.” his breath was shaking now. “been tryin’ so fucking hard to be patient with you… tryin’ not to lose my mind every time you sit in my lap.”

you let out a breathy, weak laugh against his mouth, but he pulled back just enough to look at you, his large hands coming up to cradle your face.

“you know i love you, right?”

you nodded, your thumbs stroking his knuckles.

he lifted your hand and pressed a slow, reverent kiss to the back of it, his dark eyes locked onto yours. “love you so fucking much.” he rested his forehead back against yours, his voice dropping into a rough whisper. “if we do this… there’s no turnin’ back. you’re mine.”

“good,” you whispered against his lips. “i don’t want to turn back.”

that was all he needed to hear.

he stripped you out of your panties and his sweatpants, tossing them off the edge of the bed until there was nothing left between you but skin, heat, and raw anticipation. he hovered over you, shifting his weight so he didn’t crush you, his eyes never once leaving your face as his broad body covered yours.

he leaned down and caught your boob in his mouth. kissing, licking and sucking your meaty flesh had him drunk dazed as he couldn’t help but take his right hand and started pumping his cock at the mere taste of you. you were so fucking delicious.

the room started filling with your soft moans as he continued to trail his mouth down to your belly, stopping right above your heat. he lifted his head, a quiet gesture of permission to allow him to continue further. and when you nodded, he hooked the back of your knees over his shoulders, pressing light kisses over the lips before spreading you wide and devouring your pussy like it was the best fucking thing ever.

the feeling of his tongue sliding against your clit only made you louder and louder as he ate you out like a man starved. you arched your hips up, a plea for wanting more as you struggled to maintain the absolute pleasure he was already giving. and when you reached your high, jungkook made sure not to waste a single drop of your slick. oh boy, was he in for a treat.

he pulled away and came back and kissed you passionately, residue of your slick slipping past his tongue and into your mouth.

jungkook couldn’t wait any longer at this point. sliding his hands down your outer thighs, he lifted your legs to rest over his hips. he aligned himself against you, the hot pre-cum from the head of his length pressing directly against your core. he paused right there, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding back, his knuckles white where he braced himself on the mattress beside your head.

“look at me,” he commanded softly, his voice thick and dark. “i’ll go slow, my love.”

you looked up, your eyes wide and shining, your hands gripping his biceps. he pushed forward—slowly, deliberately, sinking into your tight warmth inch by excruciating inch. you let out a sharp gasp, your back arching off the bed as the intense fullness filled you completely. he was big and meaty—the sheer size of him felt overwhelming for your virgin pussy. but that soon turned into something beyond what any words could describe.

jungkook froze instantly, his jaw working hard, his throat bobbing as he swallowed down a groan. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your collarbone, holding completely still to let your body stretch and adjust to him. “fuck… you okay? tell me if it’s too much.”

“no,” you whimpered, your fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, pulling him down harder against you. “no, koo… it’s not too much. it feels… s-so good.”

at your words, a low, primal sound tore from his chest. he lifted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with raw, possessive heat. he began to move—a slow deep pull all the way out before driving back in, full and unhurried. every thrust was heavy, deliberate, and thick with restraint, setting a rhythm that made your head tilt back against the pillow. soft shattered gasps escaping your lips.

“that’s it, baby” he muttered, his thumb reaching down to stroke over your sensitive center as he rocked his hips against yours, hitting that sweet, deep spot inside you over and over. “fuck fuck fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.”

the sensation was overwhelming—the friction of his bare skin, the heavy weight of him pinning you down, the dark, rhythmic thud of his hips matching the frantic beat of your heart. you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, dragging him as deep into you as he could go.

“you’re so fucking beautiful. so mine. so wet and tight for me.” jungkook’s restraint broke. the pace shifted from slow and worshipful to hard rolling thrusts, his breath coming in heavy ragged hitches. “give it all to me, baby. just like that.”

the headboard thudded rhythmically against the wall, the sound of your skin meeting his filling the quiet room alongside your breathless cries. “ohh fuck you’re squeezing me. trynna drive me nuts, bunny?”

“koo, baby, wait—” you gasped out, your hands clutching at his back, your inner muscles coiling tight, shuddering violently around him.

“don’t wait,” he growled against your mouth, catching your lower lip between his teeth as he drove into you harder, faster, meeting every squeeze of your body. “let go. be a good girl and cum for koo.”

the tension snapped inside you like a pulled wire. your body convulsed around him, a loud cry breaking from your throat as waves of intense pleasure crashed over you, rippling through your core.

sensing your release, jungkook let out a harsh guttural groan. he buried himself deep into you one last time, his hips locking tight against yours as he spilled inside you, his whole body tensing hard before he collapsed forward, burying his face in your hair.

for a long time, the only sound in the room was your heavy labored breathing.

jungkook didn’t pull out immediately. he stayed right there, heavy and warm over you, his broad hand stroke down your side, keeping you pinned close to his heart. slowly, he shifted his weight to the side, pulling you with him so you were curled flush against his chest, your legs still tangled together beneath the sheets.

his lips pressed against your forehead, lingering there for a long, quiet minute while his heartbeat steadying beneath your cheek.

“you’re mine,” he murmured into your damp hair, his voice low, possessive, and completely satisfied. “i love you so much.”

you smiled softly into his bare chest, “i love you too, koo.”

jungkook woke first.

and for a second, he just lay there, staring at you. your hair was a messy halo across his pillow, your face completely relaxed, still sleeping deeply with your head resting right over his heart. his broad arm was wrapped heavily around your waist, holding you flush against his side like it had stayed anchored there all night.

and then—a stupid helpless grin spread across his face. wide. shameless. completely unraveled.

because fuck, you were here, in his bed, after last night. he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, unable to help himself.

that stirred you awake. you shifted slightly, let out a tiny sleepy hum, and blinked up at him through heavy lashes. soft, gorgeous, completely his.

“morning,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

his grin only got worse. “morning.”

you squinted at him, noticing the ridiculously bright look on his face. “why are you smiling like that?”

he scoffed, a quiet rumble in his chest. “can’t smile now?”

you narrowed your eyes playfully. “not like that. you look smug.”

he leaned down, catching your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. then another. and another.

“slept good?” he murmured against your mouth.

you smiled into the kiss, your hands sliding up his chest to trail over his shoulders. “mhm.”

he brushed a stray strand of hair back from your forehead, his dark eyes melting with affection. “good.”

you kissed him again. then again. and again. until the lazy morning kisses naturally shifted—getting slower, deeper, hotter. jungkook’s large hand slid down over the curve of your waist, his fingers digging gently into your bare skin as he pulled you closer, preparing to roll you under him.

but before he could, you shifted.

with a smooth, sudden confidence that caught him completely off guard, you swung one leg over his hips and rolled on top of him.

suddenly, you were straddling his waist, sitting bare-skinned over his lap, looking down at him.

jungkook froze completely. his breath hitched in his throat, his hands stalling on your thighs as he blinked up at you.

“what’re you doing?”

you smiled—sweet, soft, and dangerously bold. “how ’bout round two, koo?”

for a full heavy second, he just stared at you. his dark eyes wide like his brain had completely short-circuited.

then he let out a low disbelieving laugh, his hands instantly gripping your hips with a firm possessive strength.

“baby,” he muttered, his voice dropping an octave into a rough, husky growl as he looked up at you like you were trying to kill him. his thumbs pressed deep into your skin, feeling the heat of your core resting directly over the heavy, rapidly hardening length rising between his thighs. “you keep this up and i’m never lettin’ you outta this bed.”

your cheeks warmed instantly at his tone, but you didn't back down. instead, you leaned forward, rolling your hips subtly against his, grinding yourself down against him until a guttural groan tore from his throat.

jungkook shook his head, a dangerous grin breaking across his lips. “cute in the morning and evil too.”

he didn’t wait another second. his hands surged up to wrap around your waist, hauling you down violently into another kiss.

he flipped you easily onto your back, taking control, his thick thigh sliding between yours to force your legs wide open. there was no slow buildup this time; the air in the room turned thick with heat and slick friction within seconds. jungkook guided his hard length straight back into your wet sensitive core with one heavy thrust that pinned your shoulders to the mattress and tore a breathless scream from your lips.

he worked over you with a raw morning urgency—his skin slick with sweat, his hips driving deep and rhythmic, his mouth leaving dark, possessive marks down your throat and breasts while your fingernails dug deep into the muscles of his back. when the shattering wave of your climax hit, jungkook drove into you three more brutal helpless times before spilling deep inside you with a ragged groan, collapsing over your trembling body and holding you tight against his chest while the rest of the morning disappeared completely behind locked doors.

the next two weeks passed faster than either of you expected.

life settled into a rhythmic, steady pattern. jungkook trained harder than ever—earlier mornings, later nights, his focus sharpening into something terrifyingly absolute as the finals drew closer.

every session at the studio lasted longer than the last. more rounds. more drills. more dark bruises blooming across his ribcage. more ice packs resting on his swollen knuckles at night. his trainer didn’t go easy on him. he never had.

while he fought and bled in the gym—you quietly built a life around him.

you kept his apartment warm, grounded, and welcoming. the kitchen was always stocked, his laundry folded neatly and put away. sometimes he’d come home late, exhausted to his bones, to find a hot dinner already waiting on the counter.

sometimes just you—curled up on the couch in one of his oversized t-shirts, reading one of your books in the quiet glow of the lamp.

those became his favorite evenings. he’d drop his heavy gym bag by the door, walk over without a word, and bury his face in the crook of your neck for five full minutes just to recharge.

there were days you visited the studio, bringing lunch, fresh coffee, whatnot.

other days—you disappeared for a few hours on your own, wandering the city streets and coming back with a small paper bag tucked securely under your arm.

when jungkook asked where you’d been, you’d simply smile, soft and mysterious. “just out.”

he didn’t press. he trusted you entirely. if you wanted him to know, you’d tell him in your own time. and that was more than enough for him.

some nights, jungkook would crash onto the bed and fall asleep before his head even fully hit the pillow, his body completely spent. other nights, he’d sit on the balcony late into the dark hours, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers while you sat beside him, resting your head quietly against his shoulder.

the morning of the finals arrived before either of you felt fully ready. jungkook sat at the kitchen counter in a plain black hoodie, his hands wrapped in clean tape, barely touching the breakfast you’d set out for him. his mind was already miles away, inside the ring, pacing back and forth behind his intense eyes.

you noticed his lack of appetite. you said nothing, simply reaching over to place a warm cup of tea beside his hand.

he noticed that too. he looked up from the counter, his dark gaze locking onto yours, taking in your calm unwavering face. and somehow, in the quiet stillness of that cold morning, that made him love you even more.

the arena was louder than usual. even backstage, the crowd echoed through the thick concrete walls—every cheer, every whistle, every chant vibrating right beneath your feet.

jungkook stood quietly in the corner of the locker room, hands already wrapped tight in white tape, eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. he wasn’t nervous, just preparing.

you walked over carefully, your shoes making no sound against the tiles, not wanting to interrupt whatever sacred ritual this was. he heard your footsteps anyway, his eyes opening immediately and softening the second they landed on you.

“hey,” he murmured.

you smiled up at him, whispering, “i won’t keep you.”

he stepped closer automatically, like his body always found yours now, no matter where you were in a room.

“i’m gonna be out there.” you smiled, soft and sure. you reached up, placing both hands gently against his face, and pressed one soft kiss right against his lips—brief and warm. “i’ll be rootin’ for ya.”

“you better,” he teased, a faint smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. you squeezed his hand once, letting the warmth linger, then turned and walked toward the arena entrance without looking back.

the moment the door closed behind you, someone spoke from the shadows of the hallway. “done bein’ cute?”

jungkook snorted, not even bothering to turn around. “shut up.”

his trainer walked over, broad arms folded over his chest, looking him up and down with critical eyes. “you ready?”

jungkook nodded. “yeah.”

the older man stood beside him quietly for a long moment, staring toward the dark entrance to the tunnel. then— “remember what i taught you?”

jungkook answered without hesitation. “hands up. move my feet. don’t chase. breathe.”

his trainer nodded slowly. “and?”

jungkook smirked, his eyes hardening into steel. “…kick his ass.”

“there it is.”

they both laughed, cutting through the thick tension in the room. then the trainer stepped closer and placed a heavy hand on jungkook’s shoulder.

“you’ve worked hard for tonight. you don’t owe anybody anything. not me. not them.” he nodded toward the roaring crowd echoing outside. “you go out there… and you remind yourself who the hell you are.”

jungkook swallowed once, his throat working hard. “yes, sir.” the older man smiled—a real one, rare and unshielded.

“i’m proud of you, kid.”

that landed harder than any punch ever had in his entire career. jungkook looked away for a second, jaw clenching as he tried not to let the weight of it show. then he threw an arm over the trainer’s broad shoulder, pulling him closer until their foreheads bumped together—the exact way they’d done before every important fight for years. before sponsors, before championships, before any of this. just coach and kid.

the trainer closed his eyes for a second. “all the best, kid.” jungkook nodded against him. “see you after.”

then, the venue speakers exploded.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN…” the arena erupted into violent sound. “AND IN THE BLUE CORNER…”

jungkook rolled his shoulders once, cracking his neck, adjusting his gloves. his trainer gave him one last sharp slap on the back. “go.”

“JEEEEOOONNNN JUNGKOOOOOOOK!” the tunnel lights burst blinding white, the roar became deafening, and jungkook walked forward into the light.

the finals were brutal, messy, bloody—everything jungkook had trained for, everything he had left in him laid raw out on the canvas. round after round, the arena shook with every hit, every dodge, every heavy fall. his body took damage—sharp cuts opening, blood dripping onto his chest, sweat stinging his eyes. so did the other guy.

but jungkook endured, like he always did, moving like a storm. and in the end, he stood in the center of the ring, hand raised high by the referee, victorious, breathing hard, chest heaving, bleeding, and entirely alive.

by the time everything settled, the crowd had thinned into quiet trickles, the overwhelming noise finally dying behind the heavy concrete walls.

the trainer walked beside you both toward the back exit. everything felt lighter now, like a crushing weight had finally lifted off all three of your shoulders.

the trainer stopped first, looked at jungkook, then at you, a small proud smile tugging at his mouth. he pulled jungkook into a rough brief hug, patting his back twice hard enough to echo. “golden boy.”

jungkook laughed tiredly, wiping at his swollen eye. “yeah, yeah.”

then the trainer turned to you, pulling you into a warm hug too. “take care, sweetheart.”

you smiled against his shoulder. “always.”

with a nod, he turned and walked off into the night, leaving just the two of you.

jungkook and you walked toward his motorcycle in comfortable silence. you reached the bike first, swinging your leg over smoothly, adjusting yourself into the back seat before pulling the dark helmet over your head. jungkook came around from behind, one hand dragging through his damp messy hair as he reached for his own gear.

but then— he stopped completely. when you had leaned forward to settle onto the seat, your shirt had lifted just slightly, your jeans dipping low from the movement. and there, on your right lower back, was dark ink against tender skin—still red, still raw and healing. his hand lifted instinctively in the air, then froze, afraid to touch it, to hurt you. and suddenly, the small paper bag, the two afternoons you’d disappeared, the careful subtle way you’d been moving around the apartment for the past two days—it all crashed into his brain at once.

carved into your skin,

jungkook.

thank you so much for reading; this is my first ever writing! sorry if it’s too long, hope you still enjoyed it! let me know your thoughts! ✿

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