dani.

¡nternati𖦹nalplayb𖦹y

[cgvejjk]

¡nternati𖦹nalplayb𖦹y

スター . ꙳ 𝗗𝗮𝗻𝗶 ˀˀ ┇ 18⁺ ˚ ༘ *

⨯ ( she / her ) ⋆˙ 🎱 ⛧

| fluff, smut, angst, nsfw, romance |

I only write about and focus on jungkook post!

✶ My stories are just fan fictions, none of these scenarios are real. Everything is based off my imagination and is for entertainment purposes only.

Please do not steal or copy !! 𖦹ᯅ𖦹˘

soon — I will be updating and changing my writing formats! ( my stories will remain the same ) I’m mainly focusing on the small brief details only.

changes ↻ — I’ll prob update and switch things around here and there, lol.

questions ¿ — If you have any, feel free to ask me them in my ( comments, dms, inbox )

comments/suggestions 💬 — I love to hear what you guys think and would want to see, so please do feel free to comment anything down below ⇩

esp if your nice about it! :]

warnings ⚠︎ — all my post will have/contain a list of warnings! if you do not like my post or feel uncomfortable reading them, feel free to leave or stop reading at any time! ( read at ur own risk ¡ )

🐈‍⬛ . . . ➟ coming soon.. :]

✦ ┆The girl next door.

two best friends who are in love.

⋆˙ [ something in the silence ] ˀˀ

[ bonus part ]

enemies to lovers scenerio.

⋆ Locked in ꗃ ⋆ 🗝️

an accident waiting to happen :]

↳ The Slip ༉‧₊

long distance relationship, missed calls/text.

❀ pink confessions ⋆ ₓₒ

✎ || Drawn between the lines ✭・.

one — two — three — four — five — six — seven — eight — nine

secret love between friendships and meetups.

✪ Behind The Velvet Rope ⋆·˚ ༘ *

one • two • three • four • five • six • seven • eight

a bouncer who fall’s in love with an exotic night dancer.

☆ ❝ [ The Girl Next Door ] ❞

one > two > three > four > five > six > seven

two neighbors— late night balcony talks, teasing glances, wild thoughts, flirtatious and teasing remarks. a small game of tension between the two.

↑ currently on-going.. *ೃ༄

PLEASE CLICK AND READ !!

{ attention }

————————————————————

⋆ thats all ! ⋆ ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ✬

[cgvejjk]

The girl Next Door ⁷ || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 2k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

It had been a few days since that night. The night when everything changed.

The apartment was quiet, soaked in morning light. Soft warmth spilled through the window, casting delicate shadows over tangled sheets and lazy limbs. You lay sprawled across Jungkook’s bed—his shirt swallowing your frame, bare underneath except for the warm traces he’d left behind, the faint bruises of his mouth, the red trail of his fingertips, the tattoo on your thigh now completely exposed from how the hem of the shirt had ridden up in your sleep.

Jungkook stirred beside you, blinking sleep from his eyes—and froze.

Goddamn.

You were the kind of beautiful that hurt. Especially like this, curled into the sheets like you belonged there, like you were his. And you were.

He swallowed hard, trying to get a grip on himself, but that grip was slipping fast. Especially when you stretched, arms overhead, arching your back ever so slightly. The shirt lifted, dragging higher up your thighs, revealing the perfect round curve of your ass, the sharp ink lines of that damn tattoo he couldn’t get out of his head.

His hand moved on its own, skimming over your lower back in featherlight circles. Just enough to touch, just enough to tease.

You hummed softly in your sleep, shifting toward him—and that was it.

He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to your shoulder, another to the nape of your neck, then lower… lips grazing that little patch of inked skin he was addicted to.

“Mmm…” you stirred, breath catching.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice gravelly from sleep.

“Morning,” you breathed, eyes still closed.

“You trying to kill me, baby?”

You cracked one eye open, a lazy smile on your lips. “What’d I do?”

“This shirt,” he said, dragging a hand along your thigh, pushing it slightly up, “With nothing underneath, lying here like this, stretching like that. You know what that does to me?” You bit your lip.

And just like that—he was on top of you.

Kissing you slowly at first, but deeper with each breath. His hands slid under the shirt, gripping your waist, roaming up your sides. His lips ghosted over the curve of your breast, whispering praises and groans between every kiss.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured. “So fucking perfect. All mine.”

You pulled him closer, your thighs wrapping around his waist, gasping into the kiss as his hand slid lower. Just as the heat curled in your belly, a soft knock echoed through the room.

You both froze.

Then another knock. Louder.

Jungkook’s head fell to your chest with a groan. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

The knocking did not stop.

He sat up, clearly irritated, dragging a hand through his messy hair. His bare chest still marked with the very evidence of the night before. Hickeys littered his collarbone and neck like a badge of honor.

He yanked his sweats back up and stormed to the door.

When he swung it open, his entire posture screamed ‘don’t fuck with me.’

Rico.

Standing there like a ghost that refused to be buried. Eyes wide. Locking on the purple bruises on Jungkook’s chest, the red of his bitten lips, his wrecked hair. His gaze screamed one thing— He knew.

And Jungkook? Didn’t even flinch.

“Can I help you?” he said coolly, leaning against the doorframe. “Kinda occupied right now, so make it quick.”

Rico’s jaw clenched. He looked like he was about to explode but knew better than to test the waters—his face was still healing from the last time he made that mistake.

“You—”

But before he could speak, your voice called from inside. Sweet, drowsy, dripping with innocence.

“Jungkook, what’s taking so long?”

You stepped around the corner, rubbing your eyes, the hem of his shirt dangerously high. Your legs bare, your lips kiss-swollen. You froze the second you saw who it was.

Rico.

Your eyes rolled so hard it hurt.

Jungkook caught the moment and took full advantage. He pulled you to his side, hand possessively on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before planting a quick kiss to your temple.

“I’ll be right there, babe. Just go back to the room,” he said, popping the babe name like candy.

But you weren’t about to let him have all the fun.

“Nah,” you said with a wicked smirk, tugging at his arm. “And keep me waiting longer? Nonsense.”

And before he knew it, you had your arms looped around his neck, dragging him into a kiss. A deep one. A show.

Your fingers skimmed up his chest, over his marks, over the muscles Rico was clearly staring at. Jungkook groaned against your lips, one hand gripping your waist, the other sliding down to cup your ass right in front of the man he’d flattened just days ago.

You broke the kiss slowly, lips still brushing his. Then you turned to Rico, voice sugary sweet.

“He’s gotta go now. We’ve got something to finish—so if you don’t mind? Don’t interrupt this time.”

Then you shut the door.

Hard.

Jungkook burst out laughing the second the lock clicked into place. “Holy shit. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You smirked, backing him toward the bedroom again. “Thought you’d like that.”

“I loved that,” he growled, backing you into the wall before crashing his lips onto yours again. “You don’t know what that just did to me.”

You tugged at his waistband, lips brushing his. “Why don’t you show me then?”

He didn’t hesitate.

The rest of the morning was a blur of tangled limbs and breathless moans. Fingers pulling at fabric, teeth scraping over sensitive skin, mouths whispering every filthy thing they’d been dying to say. There was no rush. Just deep, raw, all-consuming intimacy. It wasn’t just lust anymore—it was something deeper. Something real.

And later—when you lay in his bed again, his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair—you both knew there was no going back.

You weren’t just his.

He was yours too.

Fully.

Completely.

Unapologetically.

—

The pool shimmered under the afternoon sun, warm light dancing across the water’s surface as you swam lazily beside Jungkook. His hair was wet, slicked back and messy in the way that made him look even better somehow. Beads of water ran down his chest and arms, catching the light like he was carved straight from marble and dipped in gold.

“Stop staring,” he teased, splashing a bit of water at you.

You shrieked, laughing as you retaliated with a splash of your own, hitting him square in the face.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing?”

Before you could swim away, Jungkook lunged after you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you slightly out of the water with a grin. You giggled, swatting at his shoulders, but he just leaned in and kissed you—wet lips, chlorine-tinged and warm, but still sweet.

“Truce?” you asked, breathless.

“Only if I get another kiss,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, but obliged. This one was slower. A little deeper. A little too long for public display, but neither of you really cared.

After a few more playful laps, you both climbed out of the pool. Jungkook pulled himself up first, water cascading down his toned body, dripping from his abs, his arms, his tattoos glistening. You adjusted your sunglasses, pretending to tan—pretending being the key word—because the truth was, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Those black swim trunks clung to him in all the right places, low on his hips, and that damn silver chain around his neck had no business looking that good under the sun.

And him?

He couldn’t stop watching you either.

You were laid out on the chair, the red bikini he picked out hugging your curves perfectly. Your skin glowed, and that tattoo on your thigh? He wanted to trace it with his tongue. Hell, with his name. The color of the swimsuit popped against your skin and made his mind wander in all the wrong (or right) directions.

You reached for your sunscreen, almost twisting the cap off, when a shadow suddenly blocked your sun.

A guy—tall, probably college-aged, tan with too much confidence—smiled down at you.

“Need a hand with that?” he asked, already reaching for the bottle.

You blinked.

But before the sunscreen even left your hand, Jungkook was there—snatching it straight out of the guy’s grip and shoving him back with one hand.

“She’s good,” he said firmly, eyes dark. “Move along.”

The guy blinked, then backed off, muttering something under his breath as he walked away.

You chuckled behind your sunglasses. “Jealous much?”

“I’m not jealous,” he muttered, pulling your chair back slightly. “Just don’t like when idiots think they can touch what’s mine.”

“Yours, huh?”

“You know damn well you are.”

With that, he uncapped the sunscreen and squeezed some into his palm, rubbing his hands together. You didn’t expect him to start with your front, but he did—starting slow, dragging his hands over your stomach, right above your belly button, dangerously close to the fabric of your bikini bottoms.

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted. “Jungkook…”

He met your eyes with a sly grin. “What? You asked for help.”

Your skin buzzed under his touch. His hands moved up between your ribs, across your collarbone, brushing dangerously close to the edges of your top.

You pulled him down for a kiss, your lips soft and teasing. “Okay, now my back.”

You turned over, tugging at the string behind your neck to undo your top completely. Jungkook stilled for a second, and you could feel his gaze burning holes down your spine.

“Goddamn,” he muttered under his breath, biting his lip as he squeezed more sunscreen into his hands.

He started with your shoulders—slow and intentional. Rubbing gentle circles over your shoulder blades, moving down your spine, and then lower, across the small of your back. His hands dipped beneath the edge of your bikini bottoms, trailing down toward your ass, grazing the tattoo on your upper thigh.

“You know this tattoo’s gonna be the death of me,” he said, voice rough.

“I know,” you whispered, smiling against the towel.

And from then on, he didn’t leave your side. He plopped down beside you, close enough that his leg brushed against yours as he lay back and watched you close your eyes. The sun warmed your skin, but it was his presence that made you melt.

A while later, you sat up, stretching slightly—only to realize too late that you’d never retied your top.

“Oh shit—!”

Your arms flew to your chest, and your cheeks turned red.

But Jungkook was on it. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around you, quick and smooth, shielding you before anyone could get an eyeful.

“Got you,” he whispered, gently tugging the strings back into place.

You peeked up at him, thankful but still flushed, and he kissed your cheek. “We'd better get going. I’m not tryna give these people a free show.”

You laughed, letting him pull you up as he grabbed your things and threw a protective arm around your shoulders. He always did that—like instinct. He wasn’t letting anyone else near you again.

—

Back at his place..

You both were still slightly damp from the pool when you stepped inside. Jungkook tossed his shirt aside and stretched, muscles flexing as he turned toward you.

“Shower?”

You nodded.

You both stepped in together, letting the warm water rinse off the chlorine. You leaned back into him as he lathered your shoulders, pressing kisses to the back of your neck. His touch was gentle—sweet, even—until you slipped slightly on the wet tile.

“Oh shit—”

But he caught you, quick and strong, pulling you right into his arms before you could fall.

“You trying to die in here?” he teased, eyes searching yours.

You clung to him, breathless, heart pounding. “Wouldn’t be the worst way to go.”

He smirked, pulling you close again. “Not on my watch.”

—

Later that evening, you both ended the night wrapped in blankets, curled up on the couch, with a plate of takeout between you and a rom-com playing in the background. He fed you a bite with his chopsticks, laughing when you missed your mouth slightly.

You leaned against him, nuzzling his chest.

And in that moment, it wasn’t about jealousy or heated poolside touches. It was just you and him. Comfortable. Real. Yours.

All yours.

⋆ [ the end ] ⋆ <3 ✬

[cgvejjk]

The girl Next Door ⁶ || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 2k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

It was another slow, cozy night—just you and Jungkook. You were curled up on his couch, your legs lazily tossed over his lap while his hand absentmindedly traced slow, circular patterns into your thigh. The air between you two was charged but lighthearted, filled with soft teasing, easy conversation, and quiet affection.

A movie played in the background, but neither of you were really watching it. You were too busy flicking popcorn at each other and laughing at stupid inside jokes. Jungkook had just cracked one that had you snorting and clutching your stomach, your head thrown back against the armrest when your phone buzzed with a text.

You glanced down at it, still smiling—until you saw who it was from.

Rico.

Your smile faltered, and then you opened it.

The message was explicit—filthy, even. Completely out of line. The kind of vulgar, overly sexual message that no amount of “flirting” could excuse. Your stomach twisted as you read the words.

[ Rico ]

“Bet you’d feel even better with my mouth between those thighs instead of that guy you keep hanging with. Let me show you what you’ve been missing.”

You didn’t even realize your expression had changed until Jungkook tilted his head.

“Hey,” he said gently, “what’s wrong?”

You locked your phone and forced a shrug. “Nothing, just… a weird text.”

He didn’t buy it.

You tried to act normal, leaning your head back onto his chest, but your body was stiffer now. Not laughing as easily. He noticed. Oh, he noticed everything.

Still, he didn’t push. Just kept one hand resting on your hip, the other tapping lightly against your thigh—until you got up and said you were going to the bathroom.

The second you disappeared around the corner, Jungkook sat up straight, gaze flicking to your phone where you’d left it facedown on the arm of the couch.

Something inside him burned.

He didn’t think. He reached for the phone, unlocked it with ease, and opened your most recent messages. And there it was.

Rico’s text. Disgusting. Disrespectful. Delusional.

Jungkook’s entire body tensed. Rage boiled in his chest, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth hurt. But it wasn’t just anger—it was protective. Violently so.

He opened your message window. Typed quickly:

“Let’s meet up. Just us.”

Sent.

He knew exactly where he’d be waiting to meet up, he remembered all the spots you’d tell him about.

He quickly stood—grabbed his hoodie and keys before dashing out the door. And when you stepped out of the bathroom, towel drying your hands, the apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

Your eyes darted to the empty couch, your phone still sitting right where you left it. You grabbed it and immediately got a text from Jungkook.

[ Jungkook ]

“Be back soon, just went to the store rq.” Your brow furrowed.

And then—another text popped in from Rico.

[ Rico ]

“Thought you’d never ask. Meet me at our old spot in ten.”

Your stomach dropped.

You didn’t send that.

Eyes wide, heart racing, you realized exactly what had happened.

“Shit—shit, no no no—” you panicked, rushing to the closet and grabbing the first jacket you could find. It was Jungkook’s oversized zip-up, practically swallowing your frame. You slipped into your shoes and bolted out the door, barely locking it behind you.

The air outside was cool, damp with an edge of storm left over from the night before. Your feet slapped against the pavement, lungs burning, legs pumping. You knew exactly where they were.

But you were too late.

You turned the corner, heart thundering in your ears—and froze. There, in the shadowed back lot behind an abandoned café, Jungkook was crouched over Rico’s limp body.

His fist slammed down again, then again—blood splattered his knuckles, his veins bulging with every breath. His jaw was locked, face twisted in a snarl of pure rage. Rico was barely conscious, groaning, blood trailing from his nose and mouth.

“Jungkook—!” you yelled.

He didn’t hear you.

You rushed toward them, grabbing at his arm. “Jungkook, stop! That’s enough!”

He didn’t move, still hovering, his chest rising and falling like some rabid animal’s.

“Jungkook, look at me!”

Your voice cracked—that snapped him out of it.

His eyes met yours, wild and unfocused. Then, slowly, he blinked and seemed to realize what he was doing. His bloody hands unclenched. His breath hitched.

You stepped between him and Rico’s crumpled figure. “Come on. Let’s go.”

He hesitated—still visibly fuming—but you took his hand, now slick with red, and pulled him away. He let you.

You didn’t speak until you were both in his apartment, door shut, shoes kicked off. “You need to clean up,” you whispered, leading him into the bathroom. His head was low, shoulders still tight.

You gently guided him to sit on the closed toilet seat and began cleaning his knuckles. He winced, but never stopped looking at you.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said finally, voice low. “But no one talks to you like that. No one.”

Your fingers paused for a second, eyes flicking up to his.

“I wasn’t scared,” you said softly. “Just… worried. You could’ve seriously hurt him. Or worse.”

“I wanted to.”

You didn’t say anything. Just wrapped the last of his knuckles, stood up… and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Let’s just… sit for a bit. Yeah?”

He nodded. Followed you back out to the living room, where the couch still held your warmth from earlier.

You curled up beside him again, your body pressed gently against his side as if to tell him—you’re okay. I’m here. It’s over.

But as you looked at him—jaw tight, brows still furrowed, hand twitching—you knew this wasn’t the last time his possessiveness would come out.

And honestly?

You weren’t sure if that scared you… or thrilled you.

—

The night after the fight was quiet—eerily so.

You stayed at Jungkook’s again, not because he asked, but because you didn’t want to be anywhere else. He hadn’t said much after you cleaned his wounds, but the way he kept you close all night—the way his eyes followed you like you were the only thing tethering him to this world—told you everything you needed to know.

You had fallen asleep curled into him, your hand on his chest, his breath steady beneath your palm. But by morning, the world outside wasn’t so still.

Knock.

Knock-knock-knock.

It was sharp, aggressive—the kind of knock that promised a problem.

Jungkook’s eyes opened instantly. He was already halfway out of bed by the time you stirred.

“Who the hell…?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes as he reached for a shirt and pulled it over his head.

“I’ll handle it,” he said, voice already cold.

When he opened the door, a tall, broad-shouldered guy stood on the other side, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Rico’s brother.

You stayed back in the hallway, peeking through the crack between the door and frame, heart starting to pick up.

“You Jungkook?” the guy asked.

Jungkook didn’t even blink. “Yeah.”

“Then you already know why I’m here.”

Jungkook leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. Unbothered. Calm. Dangerous.

“You here to defend your pervert brother?”

“I’m here because you fucked his face up. He’s got a broken nose, fractured jaw—he can’t even talk right.”

Jungkook let out a breath of a laugh, low and dark. “He’s lucky that’s all he’s got.”

That made Rico’s brother step in closer, chest puffed. “You think this shit’s funny?”

“No,” Jungkook said simply. “I think it’s pathetic he thought he could talk to her like that and walk away clean.”

The guy’s eyes cut toward you for a second, barely catching your frame through the crack. That was a mistake.

Jungkook’s jaw ticked. “Don’t fucking look at her.” He stepped forward, body angling just enough to block the man’s view entirely.

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re mad, or if your little brother’s crying through his wired jaw. You got a problem with me, come handle it. But don’t you dare show up at my door like you’re owed something.”

“Your girl’s not some saint—”

Jungkook moved.

Faster than you could blink, he shoved the guy backward, pinning him against the hallway wall with a hard thud. His forearm pressed into the guy’s collarbone, low but firm, just enough to warn.

“She doesn’t owe you shit. She didn’t do anything. This is about me. So if you want to talk, talk to me. But say one more word about her, and I swear on everything I love, I’ll break your jaw just like his.”

The guy gritted his teeth but didn’t move. He knew better. He saw it—Jungkook’s wild eyes, the slight tremble in his fist. He wasn’t bluffing.

After a tense pause, he yanked himself free and stepped back. “Whatever. He’s filing charges.”

Jungkook shrugged. “Cool. Tell him I said hi.”

He slammed the door in his face.

You stood there, speechless.

Jungkook turned around, breathing heavy, his hand twitching like it was still dying to swing again. But his expression softened the second he saw you.

He walked over, touched your face gently with a still-bandaged hand. “You okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” you whispered.

“I don’t care what he thinks. Or what Rico does. I don’t care if people call me reckless or crazy.”

His voice dropped, eyes locked onto yours.

“The only thing I care about is you.”

Your breath caught. “And if that makes me heartless to everyone else, so be it.”

There was no apology in his tone—only truth. Raw and real. And something in you loved it. The way he burned so deeply, so fiercely, but only for you.

“I just want you safe. Comfortable, with me,” he said, stepping in closer, hand slipping to your waist. “You’re all I see, yn. All I want.”

You swallowed hard, every part of you melting under his words.

He leaned down, forehead touching yours.

“Let ‘em all come. They don’t matter. But you…” His hand brushed down your back, slow and tender. “You do.”

You stepped closer.

There was nothing but silence and the buzz of energy between you. Heavy tension. Raw heat. That fire you both had been taming for far too long.

You reached out slowly, your fingers grazing the bandage on his hand. “Does it hurt?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at you.

Then his fingers lifted, curling gently around your wrist.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice deep and low, “but I’m not gonna lie, yn... I’m losing it.”

Your breath caught.

“I can’t keep pretending I’m okay seeing you with anyone else. I can’t keep playing it cool, acting like I don’t wanna be the only one you look at, laugh with, talk to. I’m not built for this in-between shit.”

His thumb dragged across your inner wrist, slow and possessive.

“I want you. Every part. Every late-night chat, every smirk, every glance from your balcony, every lazy morning in my clothes—I want it all. And I want it as mine. Not just someone I kiss sometimes. Not someone I flirt with and leave wondering. I want you, yn. All of you.”

Your heartbeat was pounding now, louder than anything else.

“Jungkook…” your voice came out soft, wrecked, breathy, “You already have me. You always did.”

His eyes darkened, and just like that—the string snapped.

He kissed you.

Hard.

Hungry—

Hands diving into your hair, gripping, anchoring, like he couldn’t stand another second of distance. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his shirt, then under it, nails dragging along the bare skin of his lower back. He groaned against your lips, lifting you effortlessly until your legs wrapped around his waist.

He carried you to the counter, setting you down with a thud, and his hands spread across your thighs, pushing them apart as he slotted himself between them.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long,” he growled, lips crashing into yours again, his teeth dragging against your bottom lip before he kissed down your jaw, your neck, nipping and licking at every inch of exposed skin.

You gasped as his hand slid beneath his shirt that still hung off your frame, gliding up the curve of your waist, the pad of his thumb brushing just under your breast. You arched into his touch, craving more—needing it.

“Say it again,” he whispered against your throat.

“That I’m yours?”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes.

You smiled—barely.

“I’m yours, Jungkook. Always have been.”

Something in him snapped.

He kissed you again, deeper this time—less frantic, more claiming. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing over your inner thigh, gripping, teasing, making you shiver.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “Let me show you how mine you are.”

And he did.

Right there on the counter.

Fingers roaming, lips marking, kisses that stole the air from your lungs. The way he touched you was reverent but starved. Every stroke of his tongue, every whispered moan, every desperate grab was a confession.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was everything he’d been dying to say without words.

When it was over, when the storm of bodies and breaths had finally calmed, he didn’t let you go.

He just held you—forehead to forehead, arms wrapped tight, both of you trembling from the intensity of it all.

“I’m not letting anyone else have you,” he whispered. “No one.” You cupped his face, kissed his swollen lips.

“You don’t have to. I already gave myself to you.”

And you meant every word.

Every.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 07 ✬

[cgvejjk]

The girl Next Door ⁵ || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 2k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

The air was unusually thick on the balcony that afternoon—sunlight spilling across the railing, the sound of lazy cars below, birds chirping… but none of it compared to the tension lingering between you and Jungkook.

You leaned against the warm metal rail, iced coffee in hand, sunglasses perched on your nose, a robe lazily thrown over a fitted tank and shorts. Jungkook was across from you in his usual spot, a white tee clinging to his chest from the heat, sweats hanging low on his hips, and his lip ring catching the light with every smirk he threw your way.

"Nice view today," he said, voice dipped in that usual smugness.

You sipped, not missing a beat. “Funny. I was thinking the same.”

His eyes dropped to your exposed thigh, lingering a second too long before flicking back up. “You always wear those shorts when you know I’ll be out here?”

You tilted your head, smirking. “Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t.”

The teasing was familiar. Addicting. But now… tainted by what happened that night at his place. The movie. The heavy breathing. The way your hand replaced your words, your mouth replaced hesitation. Yet, despite how heated it got, you both still hadn't crossed that line fully—and that restraint was beginning to burn.

He chuckled, dragging a hand through his hair, biting down on his lip like he was remembering it too. “You’ve been quiet since the other night,” he said, eyes narrowing, curious.

You raised a brow. “And you’ve been nosy since birth.”

“Touché.” He laughed low, shaking his head, and god, the way his laugh hit your ears made something inside twist in the most dangerous way.

But just as the conversation started to get more charged, your phone buzzed on the table beside you.

[ Rico ]

"Hey. Outside. Let me up?"

You blinked. Jungkook noticed. “Who’s that?”

You grabbed your phone. “Old friend.”

And within minutes, Rico was standing in your apartment, arms wide for a hug that you happily accepted. It had been months—maybe a year—since you’d seen him. He was all charm, quick jokes, playful pokes at your outfit, complimenting how you’d made the apartment “so you.”

Jungkook noticed from his own place.

He was still out on the balcony, only now, he wasn’t lounging. He was leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching with narrowed eyes as you and Rico laughed a little too hard, stood a little too close, and caught up like it’d only been a day apart.

When Rico playfully grabbed your wrist to drag you toward the couch for a movie suggestion, Jungkook stood.

The door buzzed.

You weren’t expecting anyone else.

You opened it.

There he stood—Jungkook. Wearing a sleeveless black shirt, a fitted pair of joggers, and a carefully neutral expression. But you could see it in his eyes—the jealousy, the storm behind his pupils.

“Just stopping by,” he muttered. “Wanted to see if your A/C was still giving you problems.”

It was the most obvious lie. And you knew it. So did Rico, who stepped up beside you, placing a hand casually on your lower back.

“Nah, everything’s fine,” you said, lips twitching as if to challenge him.

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. His eyes darted to the hand. “Cool.”

An awkward silence fell. The energy in the room had shifted. Rico—now stiff, defensive. Jungkook—quietly fuming, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t scanning the other guy up and down.

“Well,” Jungkook muttered, eyes settling on you again. “If you need anything, you know where I am.”

His tone dripped with more than he let on. A warning. A reminder. And before you could even react, he gave a tight nod and turned away.

When the door shut, Rico exhaled a laugh. “So… that’s him, huh?”

You glanced at him. “What?”

“The guy you’re not talking about but clearly have a thing with,” he said, smiling—though it was tight, pained. “He looks like he’s two seconds away from ripping my head off.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you sat down slowly, heart pounding in your ears.

Because yeah—he was.

And somewhere, deep in your chest, it thrilled you.

—

The evening had started harmless enough.

You were hungry, and Rico had been persistent— “Just dinner, come on, you owe me at least that much.” So you agreed. It felt casual, simple. Just two old friends catching up over food.

At least… that’s what you told yourself.

But the moment you stepped into the dimly lit restaurant, you sensed something shift. Rico had dressed like he was trying to impress—not in a suit or anything, but enough to notice. Hair styled, shirt buttoned just right, a cologne you vaguely recognized from back when you two were closer.

You didn’t think much of it. You were too focused on your rumbling stomach and the way your thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook. His stare earlier… the way his jaw clenched when he saw Rico… how he didn’t even need to say anything for you to feel every ounce of his jealousy.

The restaurant buzzed softly around you. Candles on each table flickered with a warm glow. Rico ordered drinks before you could even say no, then leaned in on his elbows like he had something to prove.

“You know… you’ve always had this thing about you,” he started, swirling his drink. “I don’t even know what it is. Just… you’ve always driven me a little crazy.”

You blinked. “I… don’t know what to say to that.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just saying I missed this. Missed you. And don’t get me wrong, I see the way that guy looks at you—Jungkook, right?” He scoffed lightly. “But I don’t think he’s it. I think you need someone who really knows you.”

You laughed awkwardly, eyes darting away. “That’s… really flattering. But I just came out to eat. I wasn’t looking for anything more.”

“Maybe not now,” he replied, voice dipping. “But you will.”

You weren’t sure if it was the pressure in his gaze, the subtle lean-in, or just the entire tone shift—but a coil of discomfort twisted in your stomach.

You gave a polite smile. “I’m gonna go freshen up real quick.”

He nodded, licking his lips as you stood.

You didn’t even make it halfway down the hallway to the restroom before you yanked your phone out. Sending Jungkook a quick text.

[ Yn ]

“With rico rn… It’s weird. He keeps saying things. Flirting. Can u call or come or something?? Please make an excuse for me to leave. I’ll owe u.”

You sent it, waiting, heart racing.

What you didn’t know was that Jungkook had been outside the restaurant the entire time. He hadn’t planned it that way—it started with a walk, just trying to clear his head. But when he saw your familiar figure through the restaurant window—your body leaning back slightly from Rico, that forced laugh, the way you stirred your drink nervously—his entire mood soured.

He was already fuming when the text came through.

He didn’t even hesitate.

By the time you were leaning against the tiled wall of the restroom, trying to steady your breath, there was a knock.

You opened the door—and there he was.

Jungkook.

Jaw tight. Hoodie over his head. Chest rising and falling like he ran the whole way inside. He didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at you. His eyes scanned your face, softening just a little when he noticed your anxious expression.

“You okay?” he finally asked, voice low.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah… just—thank god you’re here.”

He didn’t wait. He took your hand gently, intertwining your fingers, and pulled you close. “We’re leaving.”

“W-what? But Rico’s still—”

“He’ll figure it out.”

And with that, Jungkook walked you straight out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. You caught Rico looking up from the table, confused, then scowling as Jungkook walked by with his hand tightly around yours.

He didn’t acknowledge the other guy. Didn’t even give him a glance. But if looks could kill, Rico would’ve been six feet under from the sheer storm radiating off Jungkook’s body.

—

Outside, the night was cool. You finally exhaled as you both walked down the street together.

“You didn’t have to actually come inside,” you muttered, almost shyly. “But I’m glad you did.”

He glanced down at you, brow raised. “Yeah? Thought I was gonna lose my mind watching him try to flirt from the window.”

You smiled. “I wasn’t exactly enjoying it.”

“I know,” he said, softer now. “I read your face like a damn book.”

You were silent for a moment. Then..

“Jealous?”

Jungkook stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

“Insanely.”

The space between you crackled. But then he smirked, brushing a hand over your waist before pulling back.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

You just simply nodded before following along, walking back with him.

—

The door to Jungkook’s apartment shut softly behind you both, sealing you away from the awkwardness of the restaurant and Rico’s persistent presence. The moment you stepped inside, the warmth hit your skin like a soft embrace.

Familiar—cozy. Safe.

Jungkook’s place was dimly lit, the glow of warm lamps bouncing off the soft wooden floors. A record played low in the background, some r&b track that hummed through the space like a heartbeat.

“You cold?” he asked, tossing his hoodie off and stretching.

You nodded subtly, rubbing your arms. “Kinda. Still hungry too.” He didn’t hesitate. “Go shower. I’ll cook something up.”

You blinked, half-embarrassed and half-melting at his tone—low, sure, comforting. He moved toward his drawers and grabbed a pair of sweats and an oversized black tee, handing them to you. “Here. Should be comfy.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, fingers brushing his a little too long before you disappeared into the bathroom.

The water was hot, fogging up the glass quickly. You scrubbed off the night—the weird tension with Rico, the leftover nerves. By the time you stepped out and wrapped the towel around yourself, you already felt lighter.

But instead of putting on the full outfit, you stared at the sweats in your hands… and smirked.

Nah. You pulled on just the oversized shirt. It fell just past your hips, sleeves draping long over your arms. Comfortable? Extremely. Modest? Not even close.

When you emerged, the scent of something delicious led you straight to the kitchen. Jungkook stood at the stove, back to you, shirt riding slightly as he stirred something in the pan. His broad shoulders flexed subtly, tattoos visible under the warm kitchen light.

Your footsteps were quiet—but not quiet enough. He turned around just in time to catch sight of you.

And god.

His hand froze mid-stir.

You were bare-legged. His shirt swallowed your frame, but not enough to hide the peek of your thigh tattoo or the way the hem lifted just a bit too high when you stretched your arms. Your skin looked fresh, flushed from the heat of the shower, hair slightly damp and sticking to your neck.

“You didn’t wear the sweats,” he said, voice a little too dry.

You smiled, stepping closer. “Didn’t feel like it. Your shirt’s soft.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared.

And then—thump—your body gently collided with his side as you hugged him from the side, cheek resting against his chest, hands lightly curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. His heart thudded under your ear. He tensed for half a second… then exhaled, slow and deep, like he was holding back every unruly thought tearing through his head.

“You trying to kill me or something?” he muttered, glancing down at the top of your head.

You smiled innocently. “Just saying thanks.”

“You’re dangerous like this.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before muttering, “Go. Sit your half-naked ass on the couch before I burn this.”

You giggled but didn’t move.

So he gave you a light slap on the ass, his palm grazing the underside of your shirt just enough to make your breath catch. “Go.”

Blushing and smirking, you obeyed, flopping onto his couch and pulling the blanket over your legs. You picked something light-hearted to watch—not that you could focus with the way your skin still tingled where he touched you.

Soon he came over with two bowls, handing you one and watching—completely enamored—as you devoured it.

“I didn’t know I was feeding a starving beast,” he teased, one arm draped over the back of the couch, fingers idly tracing your bare thigh.

“Hey,” you mumbled between bites, “you offered. And this is so good.”

“You look hot when you eat.”

You choked. “You’re such a menace.”

He laughed quietly, then leaned over to press a slow kiss to your cheek. You turned your head at the last second and met him halfway, lips brushing gently in a kiss that stayed sweet—lingering, warm, slightly addictive.

The bowls were forgotten after that.

You curled into his side, your legs across his lap, his hand lazily rubbing up and down your thigh while his lips occasionally found your forehead, your temple, the corner of your mouth. There was no rush. No pressure. Just soft touches and the heavy comfort of closeness.

At one point, you whispered, “Thanks for saving me.”

He kissed your knuckles in reply. “You don’t ever have to deal with that shit alone. You know that, right?”

You nodded, heart full.

And in the low light of his apartment, with your body tucked against his and the shirt smelling like him, nothing else really mattered.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 06 ✬

[cgvejjk]

The girl Next Door ⁴ || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 3k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

It wasn’t too long before Jungkook had to leave, for his usual workout routine.

He had stepped into his room and changed his shirt right in front of his balcony door. Almost like he knew he was being observed from afar.

Again.

Yn was seated in her usual spot, mug in hand. Robe tied carelessly at her waist, it draped down at her shoulder revealing just enough skin, the top of her bare breast but never too much. And just like she had been these past few days, a little too much now.

She was having those thoughts about him. The unholy—unfiltered fantasies she’d always get when he was around now. A feeling in her grew weaker, she was needing—pleading for something that wasn’t hers.

Not just yet.

His touch.

His eyes on her.

Him.

She had been feeling overly desperate for some attention down there, it wrecked her. Barely any sleep at night, long-awaited night her stomach would ache, and down there?

A feeling she didn’t know she’d ever feel or have for someone so much. She was never able to bring herself so far to that point to do those things to herself, she never really had this feeling before. Maybe once or twice but this was..

Different.

Before she’d just think things and be over with it but now? With him having such an effect on her, she drove herself insane. And today was the day she couldn’t help herself, she was going to test the waters.

She waited.

And waited.

And then—

She caught slight movements of his tall silhouette moving around his room before the lights clicked off. A door being shut, she sipped her drinks a few more times giving it a minute before pushing herself off the small couch.

Stepping back inside, making sure to close her room up. Doors, curtains she’d usually just keep and have open, the lights were dim, not too bright to kill the vibe. She had soft music going in the back, candles still lit from before, some show plastered up on her tv at just the right volume.

Everything was perfect.

—

She was now sprawled out on her bed, her robe down on the floor just beside her bed.

Her legs were spread wide across her sheets, fingers deep inside her as she writhed slowly, breathing heavy and ragged, caught in the thick fog of lust. Her head was thrown back against the pillow, dark strands of hair stuck to her damp forehead and neck, body covered in a sheen of sweat from the mess she had worked herself into.

“Fuck—” she breathed out, her voice just above a whimper, the pleasure curling tight in her belly.

Jungkook.

God, it was always him.

Every thrust of her fingers, every breath she dragged in, was chased with images of him—his shirtless body glistening from his workouts on the balcony, the cocky smirk he wore when he caught her staring, the teasing glint in his eyes when he leaned just a little too close. His voice echoed in her ears, the way he called her "neighbor" with that low, flirtatious tone. She imagined his fingers instead of her own, longer, stronger, rougher in all the right ways.

It felt wrong but so, so right.

Her back arched, the tension building fast as her other hand gripped the sheets, curling tight.

She was close. So damn close. Moans tumbled freely from her lips now, breathy and broken, as her fingers worked faster, harder—

And then..

She heard a knock, followed by another knock.

Her heart slammed in her chest.

Eyes flying open, she froze mid-motion, her pleasure yanked from her body like cold water. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Annoyed and still panting, she yanked her fingers out, her thighs twitching with leftover arousal. She grabbed the nearest robe, barely managing to toss it on over her naked, flushed skin. The tie dangled loose, revealing just enough of her chest and thighs to be scandalous if she cared enough to fix it. She didn’t. Whoever it was ruined her orgasm—she’d give them a piece of her mind.

She stormed over to the door, still catching her breath, hair a total mess, cheeks red and glowing, and yanked it open—

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing there with one hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, the other holding a small gym bag, eyes running down her body like slow molasses. He said nothing at first. Just looked.

His gaze dipped from her mussed-up hair to the robe barely hanging onto her shoulders… to the flushed skin, the way her chest rose and fell a little too fast, the glimmer of sweat on her collarbone, the way her legs peeked out and she clearly had nothing else on underneath.

He knew.

He fucking knew.

She didn’t say a word—couldn’t. The air was thick, heavy, laced with silent tension and unsaid filth.

His lips twitched. Just the faintest bit.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over tonight,” he said smoothly, like this wasn’t the most unholy moment to show up. “I’m putting something on. Movie, maybe.”

His voice was low. Teasing. Dangerous.

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Her brain was mush, her pride somewhere on the floor with her panties. He wasn’t going to say it—he wasn’t going to mention what she was just doing—but he didn’t have to. His silence said everything.

She could feel his eyes all over her, like he was mentally finishing what she couldn’t.

“I—uh… yeah. Sure,” she finally whispered.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes still locked on hers. That smirk deepened, cocky and sinful.

“Cool. 9 o'clock,” he said simply, turning on his heel without another word. No explanation, no apology for interrupting.

And as he walked down the hall, she stood there still stunned, every nerve in her body on fire with embarrassment and leftover arousal. She couldn’t go back to finish—not now, not after that. Her body ached for release, but her pride was wrecked.

She shut the door slowly, leaned her back against it, and let out a breath.

Meanwhile, Jungkook stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut in front of him. He let out a low chuckle, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he grinned to himself.

Perfect timing.

He planned that.

He knew exactly what he was doing—teasing her from his window, working her up like a puppet on strings, watching the way she squirmed under his gaze…

And tonight?

She’d be at his place.

—

Later that night..

She stood outside Jungkook’s door.

Still a bit thrown off by earlier, she hadn’t been able to shake the memory of him standing there—smirking like he knew exactly what kind of mess he had interrupted. Her fingers had trembled a little, tying her robe, and even now, as she raised her hand to knock, her heart gave an involuntary jolt.

The door swung open before she could touch it. He stood there, loose grey sweatpants slung low, hair damp and tousled from his second shower of the day. The scent of cedar, vanilla, and something deeply masculine clung to the air around him like a vice. He moved aside to let her in, that damned smirk tugging at the corner of his lips again.

"You're right on time," he said, voice dipped in honey. “Hope you’re hungry. I got snacks. And wine.”

"Only a little,” she replied, stepping in. “Didn’t want to risk being late. You seemed... eager.”

His brow lifted, clearly entertained. “You're the one who’s been drooling lately, not me.”

She gave him a sharp side glance but didn’t deny it. Instead, she walked further into his apartment, letting the cozy warmth wrap around her like a blanket. It smelled like him, just like she remembered—clean, rich, intoxicating.

A movie played low on the screen already, something random he had thrown on just before, but neither of them was really watching. They sat close—but not too close—on the couch. Just close enough that their arms brushed when she reached for her drink. Just close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his skin through the thin material of his shirt.

“You seemed a little… flustered earlier,” he said, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were dark, bottomless, filled with barely concealed amusement.

“You mean when you showed up uninvited and scared the life out of me?” she challenged, crossing one leg over the other, careful to keep her robe closed tight.

He chuckled softly, eyes lingering at the sliver of thigh that peeked out before she adjusted her position. “Mmm. More like when you opened the door looking like you’d just run a marathon. Sweaty. Breathless. Barely dressed.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t back down. “Maybe I was just doing cardio. You know, keeping active. Got a problem with that?”

Jungkook leaned a little closer, propping his arm along the back of the couch, eyes fixed on hers. “No problem at all. But if you ever need a workout partner…” He let the words hang in the air, heavy and intentional.

She cleared her throat, reaching for her wine again. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said lowly, “I think you’re already tempted.”

The silence that followed crackled with something unspoken. She looked at him, really looked—his jaw tight, lips parted, eyes locked onto her like she was something to be studied, devoured even.

But just when it felt like one of them might lean in too close, cross a line too bold—they both pulled back. Like magnets resisting a full click together. The tension only grew, wrapping around them thick and suffocating.

They finished the wine. The movie rolled into the credits.

Eventually, she stood, brushing down her robe and smoothing her hair even though it didn’t need fixing. “I should go.”

Jungkook nodded, standing too, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for coming by. For not making things… weird.”

Her lips curved into a small smirk. “You’re the weird one, not me.”

He laughed softly, then watched as she walked to the door. Just before she stepped out, she turned over her shoulder.

“Oh, and Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time you plan on walking around shirtless again…” she trailed off, letting her gaze drop shamelessly down his body before returning to his eyes, “…give a girl a warning.”

He blinked, taken aback for half a second—then let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “No promises.”

She left with that. The door clicked shut behind her, and Jungkook exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She was driving him insane. And he knew—just as sure as the blood still pulsing low in his body—that she had no idea what she’d started.

But he was going to make sure he finished it.

—

A week later..

There had been another movie night he had planned out.

You stood there in the middle of Jungkook’s place—barefoot, a fitted tee and loose lounge shorts now, looking around the dimly lit living room while the low hum of his air purifier filled the silence. His apartment always smelled like him—fresh soap, cedarwood, and that musky cologne he probably wore without even realizing how intoxicating it was. The place was clean, lived-in but neat, perfectly him. Minimal, sharp edges, black-and-gray themes, and just cozy enough to feel like home.

You fiddled with your fingers, your heart still a little erratic.

He knew.

She knew.

The way his eyes scanned over you earlier… the smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t said a word about what he felt in him, but that smug look on his face, that cocky glint in his dark eyes—God, he definitely knew what he wanted. And now here you were. In his place.

Just the two of you.

Alone.

Again.

The front door clicked open. Your heart jerked. Jungkook walked in, casual and easy, grocery bag in one arm and a six-pack of drinks hanging from the other. He wore a fitted black tee, dampened slightly from the rain, his sweats hanging just low enough on his hips to have your imagination running off again. Hair slightly damp from the sprinkle, silver earrings catching the light.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought," he said, brushing past you, letting the smell of his cologne hit you harder than it should’ve. "The store was packed, but I grabbed your favorite snacks." He nodded toward the counter and placed everything down.

You raised an eyebrow. "My favorite snacks? You been stalking me or something, Jeon?"

He smirked without looking. "Your pantry basically whispered your secrets to me last time I helped with your leak. All those empty wrappers said a lot."

You scoffed through a laugh, walking over to help him unpack the bags, and that’s when his hand brushed over yours reaching for the same pack of cookies. Your eyes flicked to his.

He didn’t move.

Neither did you.

The pause was heavy. Charged.

You broke it first. “So… movie?”

“Yeah,” he said, finally pulling his hand back, but not before letting his thumb graze your knuckles—casual, but deliberate. “You pick. I’ll set the snacks.”

—

Ten minutes later, the lights were dimmed, the rain outside pattered quietly, and the movie had started playing, but neither of you had really been paying attention yet again.

You sat beside him, a bit too aware of the space between you. Not touching, but close enough that your knees occasionally bumped, that your thigh could feel the heat radiating off his leg. He didn’t move away.

In fact, he leaned in a little more every time he whispered some snarky comment about the movie—making you laugh, drawing out those sounds he clearly enjoyed hearing from you. You saw it in the way he smiled after each one, like he was proud of it, of making you feel good.

Somewhere halfway through, you shifted slightly to get more comfortable and your bare thigh brushed his.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t even blink.

He looked at you then—soft and heavy all at once. “You always wear shorts that short when you’re not at home?”

You tilted your head. “You always change in front of your windows when your hot neighbor lives across?”

Touché.

He chuckled low in his throat, eyes dropping to your lips. “Fair point.”

That silence returned, and this time it hung in the air like a thread, stretched tight. A breath away from snapping.

Then the scene on the tv shifted—someone kissed someone, the music swelled—and Jungkook cleared his throat, pulling back just a little. "Want another snack?"

"Sure." You bit back your smirk.

—

By the time the movie ended, the energy between you had shifted again. There were no words said about the near-moment you almost had. Just unspoken tension thick enough to touch.

You stood, stretching your arms above your head and letting your tank inch up just enough to catch his eye again. You saw the way he watched. So subtly—but his gaze lingered on your waist, then your thighs, then back to your face.

“How about another movie? I pick this time..” he spoke in a softer tone, a slight grin on his face as he cleared his throat. Breaking the tension a bit between you both. But without a doubt or any second thoughts you agreed.

—

The second movie had just started.

Well, if you could even call it a movie. It was more like a slow-burning fire disguised as cinema. One of those artsy, dramatic films where every stare lasted a second too long, and every scene seemed soaked in tension you could slice with a knife.

Jungkook had picked it on purpose. He sat beside her, acting unfazed, casually sipping his drink, but he knew exactly what was coming.

And sure enough, halfway in, the scene started.

Onscreen, the two leads crashed into each other with desperate, hungry mouths, hands roaming, clothes coming off in frantic motion. Naked limbs tangled together as they kissed like they were trying to breathe life into one another.

The room around them shifted. Quiet, thick, loaded.

Neither of them spoke.

She didn’t dare look directly at him, and yet—her thigh pressed against his. Whether accidental or intentional, neither of them pulled away.

Her drink was empty. Needing a distraction, she got up to refill it. As she passed in front of him, her sleep shirt lifted slightly at the back, revealing the soft rise of her upper thighs and the edge of that tattoo he was obsessed with.

Jungkook’s jaw tensed. He didn’t even try to hide the growing bulge between his legs.

When she returned, her eyes immediately found it—clear and painfully evident, stretching the fabric of his sweatpants.

Her breath hitched just slightly.

The silence buzzed. Then Jungkook looked at her, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips again, but his eyes? Oh, his eyes were darker now. Hungrier.

“Now look who’s staring,” he said, voice rough, low.

She bit her lip, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smile she couldn’t suppress. “How could I not? It’s practically jumping out of your pants.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t blink.

Instead, he leaned in.

“That’s ‘cause of you,” he said, voice gravelly as his fingers brushed a strand of her hair back, the backs of his knuckles grazing her cheek. “I can’t help it when you’re this close.”

She swallowed, pulse pounding as the space between them shrank—until it wasn’t there at all.

His hand moved to the back of her neck. Hers to his thigh.

Their lips crashed.

There was no hesitation. No nervous start. It was full-on from the beginning—hot, open-mouthed kisses, their bodies pressing closer, tangling together on the couch. Her legs shifted, one sliding over his lap, straddling him instinctively.

He groaned low into her mouth as her hips moved slightly, grinding down against the hardness between them.

His fingers gripped her waist tightly, guiding her rhythm as he pushed up into her just enough to make her gasp.

“You’re driving me insane,” he murmured against her lips.

“You started it,” she whispered, dragging her nails lightly up his chest through his shirt.

Her hand slid down, dangerously slow, until it brushed over the straining bulge in his pants. He hissed at the contact, his hips bucking slightly under her touch.

“You’re really not gonna stop me, are you?” she asked, teasing now.

He shook his head slowly, eyes locked on her. “I don’t want you to.”

And with that, her hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats.

His breath hitched. His eyes fluttered closed.

Her other hand slid up to cup the back of his neck as she leaned in to kiss him again—slow this time, sensual, as her fingers worked him with smooth, confident movements.

Jungkook’s grip on her hips tightened, his head falling back against the couch as she took her time, watching his face shift with every stroke.

Every little moan, every grunt, every twitch of his jaw sent heat pulsing through her.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He leaned forward, gripping her face as he kissed her hard, his tongue sliding against hers while his hips jerked upward into her hand. Her own breath was shallow now, cheeks flushed, thighs clenched together just from seeing the way he unraveled beneath her.

But they didn’t go further. They never did.

Not yet.

Even as he came down from the edge, chest rising and falling fast, he reached for her—pulling her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her.

She curled into him, heartbeat racing, lips swollen and sensitive from all their kisses.

“I think,” he whispered, brushing his mouth along the side of her neck, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

She smiled, fingers tracing the tattoos on his arm as she rested against him. “You started the fire, Jungkook.”

He just held her closer, letting the embers crackle and burn a little longer between them. But it wasn’t until moments later when yn had left his lap, heading to the bathroom.

And when she came back, his whole energy seemed to change more, not in a bad way but he looked like he was going through it. Having a hard time keeping his composure seeing her standing right there in front of him again, his eyes deceiving him even more as they scanned her body.

“You okay?” you teased. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He stood too, slow, taking a step forward that shrank the space between you. “No. Just trying not to do something I’ll regret.”

You raised a brow, suddenly aware of how close you were again. “Like what?”

Jungkook’s jaw flexed. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just leaned in a little more, voice huskier this time. “You should probably go. Before I forget all the lines we’ve been trying not to cross.”

Your throat tightened at the heat in his tone. Your heart pounded. But you didn’t argue. You stepped back, nodded with a smirk you tried to keep cool.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said quietly as you made your way to the door.

“Goodnight, trouble.”

—

Back in your apartment you were lying in bed, you couldn’t sleep. And neither could he.

The thoughts were mutual.

The ache was mutual.

And both of you knew it was only a matter of time before the lines blurred completely.

Because eventually, someone was going to cross.

And neither of you were going to stop them.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 05 ✬

[cgvejjk]

The girl Next Door ³ || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 1k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

The days after the party were nothing but a living hell for yn.

Not because of the hangover — she’d handled worse. Not even because of the embarrassing flashbacks of her drunk dancing or the blurred memory of Jungkook’s fight breaking out near the end of the night. No, the real pain came from what didn’t happen afterward.

No balcony chats.

No texts.

No lazy grins across the railings.

He was there — she knew he was home. His light would flicker on at night, and sometimes she’d catch the silhouette of him walking around, broad-shouldered and quiet, nothing like the playful boy she’d started to grow so damn fond of.

She waited. One day. Then two..

By the fifth day, her heart cracked. It ached.

The feeling physically made her sick in the stomach, and nights were restless. Barely to—not any sleep.

Every time she stepped outside onto the balcony — in shorts and a tee, pretending to just be enjoying the breeze — she hoped he’d show up. But if he did, it was brief, accidental. Like once, when he walked out to take a call and locked eyes with her.

And then immediately turned around and went back inside.

No smile, no wave.

Just... gone.

The worst part was how badly it hurt.

She never expected this from him — not Jungkook, not the guy who called her “trouble” with a smirk, who complimented her cookies like they were laced with gold, who watched her from across the room like she was the only one that existed. Not the guy who joked with her about fate when she first moved in.

And definitely not the guy she was starting to like a little too much.

So that night, under the thick weight of a stubborn summer heatwave, she knocked on his door. Not texted. Not waited.

Knocked.

When he opened, he looked like shit. Hair messy, shirtless under a gray hoodie, a half-eaten bowl of instant noodles on the counter behind him. His eyes were tired, shadowed, and surprised.

“Hey,” he said slowly.

But she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. Not anymore.

“What the hell is going on with you?” she asked, arms crossed. Jungkook blinked, leaning against the frame, one hand running through his hair. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t do that. Don’t play stupid,” she snapped. “You’ve been avoiding me since the party. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. No balcony. No random visits. You looked me in the eyes the other day and walked away like I was some stranger. You don’t even smile anymore.”

He swallowed, gaze dipping briefly. “I’ve just been... busy.”

“Bullshit.”

Silence stretched between them, heavy, pulsing.

She took a step closer. “If I did something, say it. If I crossed a line, tell me. But don’t act like none of this ever happened. Like we didn’t get close. Like you didn’t care.”

Jungkook exhaled hard through his nose, pushing off the doorframe, his expression clouded.

“I didn’t like what I saw that night.”

She frowned, confused. “What, the fight?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Before the fight.” Her breath hitched. His eyes were locked on hers now — dark, intense, no longer hiding.

“I didn’t like seeing you with that guy,” he added. “Didn’t like how he was touching you. Didn't like how close he got. I just... I don’t know. I didn’t like it.”

She stared. “So you were jealous?”

He flinched slightly, lips pulling into a strained line. “No. I’m just—” he paused, shook his head. “I’m protective. I care. We’ve gotten close and it... It didn’t sit right with me. That’s all.”

“Protective?” she repeated, scoffing slightly. “You punched a guy for being ‘too close,’ then ignored me for days like I was the one who crossed the line.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he muttered. “I was trying to figure my shit out.”

“But you didn’t even talk to me. You ran.” He didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Just silence. And that was enough to tell her everything she needed.

He was jealous. He did care. But he was also terrified of what that meant.

Of what this was turning into.

Without another word, she sighed and walked off. Not angry. Just... tired.

“Night, Jungkook.”

He didn’t call her back.

—

Three days passed..

She gave him space — partly out of respect, partly out of pride. But her chest still ached every time she passed his door. Every time she glanced out her window and saw the balcony empty.

And then, one night, just as she was pouring herself a glass of wine and preparing to scroll through her drama list, her phone lit up.

[ Jungkook ] — 8:37 PM..

“You home?”

She hesitated. Then typed back.

[ yn ]— 8:39 PM..

“Always am.”

A few seconds later, three soft knocks echoed at her door.

She opened it slowly, and there he stood — back in a black tee and sweatpants, hair tousled like he’d been running his hands through it all night.

“Can I come in?” He asked, waiting for permission.

She nodded, stepping aside.

He walked into her living room like he belonged there. And in a way, he did. He’d helped fix half her place. He’d shared wine and movies and random late-night playlists here. He’d once stood in that exact spot while shirtless and smirking at her in a way that still haunted her dreams.

But tonight, he was different.

Calmer.

Softer.

“I’m sorry,” he said first, hands stuffed in his pockets. “For how I acted. I just... had some things going on.” She tilted her head. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “Just stuff. Work. Family. Life.”

She didn’t believe a word of it — not the vague lie, not the way his voice cracked ever so slightly. But she let him have it.

Because he was trying.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.

“You’re still a shitty liar,” she said, lips curling.

He smiled back. “Yeah, well. You’re still kind of evil for making cookies that good.”

“Balance,” she teased.

And just like that, the rhythm returned. Balcony chats resumed. The random gifts and movie nights started again.

The lingering glances, the almost-kisses, the subtle way her hand would graze his when passing him a drink — all of it came back.

Only now, they were both pretending that the conversation never happened.

Even though it did.

Even though her heart still raced when he smirked.

Even though he still replayed her tattoo in his mind more times than he’d ever admit.

They were still dancing along that line, only now the fire was hotter.

And the fall felt closer than ever.

Real close.

—

It had become almost a ritual at this point — yn’s lazy late nights with her favorite drink in hand, curled up in her silk robe on the balcony, hoping for a glimpse of Jungkook, even if they never actually said it out loud.

The sky was quiet that night. No party music from down the street. No buzz of conversation from the neighbors. Just the faint hum of city life and a soft breeze that fluttered her robe, threatening to show more than she’d usually allow.

But she didn’t care.

Because across the balcony, behind that all-too-clear glass sliding door, Jungkook was giving her everything.

It started innocent. He walked in wearing a black tee and low-sitting jeans, tugging at his sleeves like he was annoyed with the fabric. His place was dimly lit — warm lights casting golden hues across his sharp jawline and inked skin.

Yn had her legs crossed, one slipper dangling lazily off her foot as she sipped her drink, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

She didn’t think much of it when he peeled off his shirt.

She definitely thought something of it when he popped the button on his jeans, slid off his belt, and let the denim fall around his legs.

Her heart stopped. Jaw, nearly dropped.

He wasn’t even paying attention.

His music was playing low. He looked relaxed. Careless.

The tight black boxers clung to him like they were stitched to his skin. Broad shoulders flexed when he ran a hand through his hair. Defined abs. A line that disappeared beneath the waistband.

And he was just about to slip out of those too, until—

“What a view,” she called out, loud enough to break through the distance.

His head snapped up instantly.

Eyes locking.

There she sat — robe hanging lazily off her shoulder, revealing just enough of her silky purple nightdress to drive a man insane. She sipped again, smirking behind the rim of her glass. Her legs were crossed high, the slit in her dress teasing a scandalous peek of her thigh and tattoo. Her messy bun made it all worse — too effortless, too good.

Jungkook blinked.

And then he smirked.

She instantly regretted saying anything. She should’ve let it play out. She wanted to see more — all of it, if she was being honest. But now he knew she was watching. And instead of backing off?

He stepped forward.

Still in his boxers.

No shame. No apology. No towel. Just confidence. Pure, cocky, unapologetic confidence.

“You shouldn’t stare so hard,” he said, voice low, smug.

“you might start drooling.”

She didn’t even deny it.

Didn’t try.

She just raised a brow, lips curling slightly in a wicked grin, before slowly pushing herself up from her seat, stretching her arms overhead in the most indirectly direct way possible. The robe slipped further, now barely clinging to her frame.

She turned without a word, walking inside, the sway of her hips exaggerated ever so slightly. Just before vanishing behind the door, she "adjusted" her robe, letting it fall open briefly before cinching the tie at her waist.

She didn’t need to say anything.

Her body said enough.

The glimpse of her tattoo, the soft bounce of her ass peeking from under that silky dress — it was unholy.

Intentional. Murderous.

And Jungkook?

He was dying. He stood there, completely frozen, heat rushing up his neck, groin tightening painfully. Her voice floated through the night just before the door shut.

“Goodnight, my handsome neighbor.” He stood still.

Too still.

Absolutely wrecked, and it wasn’t even 11 PM.

Back inside, he braced himself against the edge of his sink, running cold water over his face.

“Get it together,” he muttered, but it was no use.

All he could think about was her voice, her eyes, the way she looked at him like she wanted to devour him whole — and how she knew damn well what she was doing.

She was dangerous. In the worst, best, most addictive way.

He eventually showered, but not before a hundred thoughts crashed through his skull. He imagined how her skin would feel under his hands. How she’d sound whispering his name in the dark. How her robe would look on his floor.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

And the worst part?

He didn’t even want to. He enjoyed the thoughts far too much.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 04 ✬

[cgvejjk]

my tumblr is still currently acting up and not allowing me to post correctly, I’m not sure what exactly is going on or happening. — or if I’m just slow lol, I’m not really good with working tumblr all that well (just know the basics) so if you or anyone else knows what’s going on or how to help this situation, please comment below or dm me 😭

^ [ this is currently what my tumblr is doing..sometimes it even kicks me from the app completely? like it will send me to my home screen, I have no clue why.. ] If you didn’t catch it in the screen recording, I was trying to click the button to create a post but it wouldn’t allow me to or even give me the option of the pop-up blog creation lol.

— I’m trying my best to get this fixed so I can continue posting my stories and getting them out to you but again I only know so much with this app..💀

At the moment !!

I was lucky enough to have my friend lend her device/tumblr over to me so I could log in a post this for you guys, and get some form of info out :[

— she’s letting me borrow her device for a bit so I’ll try and get most of my recent story ( the girl next door ) out and released to you guys tonight!

again, I am sorry for all this and any further problems going on but I hope you all can understand my situations, also thank you so much for all the likes and love — I really do appreciate it! <3

[cgvejjk]

The Girl Next Door ² || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 1k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

The next few days were quiet. Still cloudy. A soft haze clung to the windows, the last of the storm rolling off somewhere far in the distance. Your apartment had power again, the air warm and lights flickering back to life. Still, the drip-drip-drip from the sink hadn’t let up.

But at least the place felt like home now.

Blankets folded just how you liked. Candles burning low in the corners. Your favorite playlist humming through the bluetooth speaker. You’d set everything up just the way you liked it—slightly moody, warm, cozy, inviting.

And the moment it all came together, you felt good.

Content.

Until—

A knock.

You raised a brow. No one was supposed to stop by this early, and you sure as hell hadn’t ordered anything. Pulling open the door, your curiosity instantly dropped into the pit of your stomach.

There he was.

Jungkook.

Wearing fitted black jeans that looked painted onto him, a loose black t-shirt with the sleeves pushed up just enough to show his inked arm, and—god help you—a damn tool bag in hand.

“Morning,” he said, voice low, soft with that lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You blinked. “Uh… hey?”

“I heard maintenance still hasn’t fixed the leak.” He looked past you into your place, brow raising slightly. “Thought I’d come take a look myself.”

You laughed, teasing. “Wow. Is there anything you can’t do?”

He stepped in, boots squeaking slightly against the hardwood. “I cook, I clean, I fix shit. I’m basically husband material.”

You nearly choked on your own breath. “Well, damn. I didn’t know I had a whole domestic dreamboat next door.”

“You think that now,” he said, crouching beside your sink in the guest bathroom after you led him along, “just wait until I break something trying to fix it.”

You watched him tug open the cabinet doors, setting his bag to the side. His muscles flexed subtly beneath the loose cotton of his shirt as he reached for a wrench, veins along his forearms becoming more visible with each movement.

You leaned against the counter, pretending to check your phone, but your eyes kept drifting.

Back to him.

Back to the way his jeans clung just right when he bent down. The curve of his back. His broad shoulders.

And then he laid flat on his back beneath the sink—legs slightly spread, arms raised above his head as he fiddled with the pipes.

And that?

That was a view.

A sinful, unexpected, utterly indecent view.

Your breath caught. His shirt rose slightly, revealing a sliver of toned abdomen, the deep V at his waist teasing beneath the waistband of his jeans. His arms tensed as he turned the wrench. His jaw clenched slightly.

And your mind wandered.

Unholy thoughts.

Downright filthy, actually.

“Whoever is bouncing on that is the luckiest person alive.”

You nearly slapped yourself in the face.

This was not okay. This was a leak fix. A totally innocent, completely platonic, very unsexy home repair—

His shirt slid up just a bit more. He grunted quietly as he twisted the pipe tighter.

And just like that, the room felt ten degrees hotter.

He shifted again, his thigh muscles visibly flexing beneath the denim. One leg bent, giving you a full outline of things you had absolutely no business staring at.

You wandered off grabbing your water bottle, taking a sip, and nearly drowned.

“You alright over there?” he called out, still flat beneath the sink, completely unaware of the chaos going on in your head.

You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Just, uh… admiring the view.” His chuckle echoed off the pipes. “Glad my plumbing skills are so captivating.”

Oh you have no idea.

After a few more minutes, he slid out from under the sink, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Temporary fix,” he said, standing—way too close now. “It won’t leak for a bit, but maintenance still needs to get in and do it properly.”

You nodded, pretending not to be distracted by the way his shirt clung slightly to his chest, damp from the effort.

“Thanks,” you said, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Really. You didn’t have to do all that.”

He tilted his head, eyes softening just slightly.

“I wanted to.”

That silence fell again. The one that felt heavier than it should’ve.

And that look—that look—lingered a second too long.

Until you both blinked it away and stepped back into safer ground. “I owe you,” you said.

He smirked. “I’ll collect one day.”

“Don’t tease me like that.”

His eyes glinted. “Who says I’m teasing?”

Another second. Another heartbeat.

Then he grabbed his tool bag and headed to the door.

But just before leaving, he turned back, eyes glancing around your space—the cozy lighting, your scent, the warmth you’d built into your home.

“It suits you,” he said.

“What does?”

He gave a half-smile. “This place. Feels like you.”

You watched him disappear down the hall, heart thudding too fast, legs slightly weak from both the tension and the mental sins you needed to repent for.

And that view?

It would live rent-free in your mind for a long, long time.

—

A few days later…

Jungkook had only been gone for three days, but to yn, it felt like a damn eternity.

She never realized how often she looked toward his window until it sat dark for nearly seventy-two hours. The balcony she'd grown to love felt quieter without him there, and the breeze felt colder at night without the occasional wave or smirk exchanged between them.

So when she heard the soft thud of a suitcase rolling inside the apartment next door, her heart skipped a beat.

He was back.

She didn’t wait. Not to see him. Not to hear from him. Instead, she did what she knew best — she cooked. A full meal, still warm and packed neatly in containers, with two oversized cookies nestled on top. She left it at his door with a note.

“Thought you’d be too tired to cook. Hope you’re still a sucker for cookies. xo — the girl you know you missed ;)”

She didn’t expect a response so soon, but an hour later, she saw the balcony door slide open.

There he was — jacket half-zipped, hair a mess, face worn but so effortlessly handsome. He leaned against the railing, holding the empty cookie container in one hand and a beer in the other. His grin was lazy, soft, and just for her.

“Didn’t realize my new neighbor was trying to wife me up already,” he called over.

She smiled, wine glass in hand. “You cook like that for your flings, too?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “Only the ones I want to impress.”

Her stomach flipped. So did her heart.

—

Later that week, she invited him to a night out with friends — nothing major, just drinks, music, and the buzz of people they both barely knew. Jungkook said yes instantly, though he didn’t say it was because he’d missed her… badly.

She showed up in a black dress — tight, elegant, slitted high enough to tease. Her thigh tattoo peeked out just enough to burn itself into his memory all over again. Her makeup was minimal but perfect, and her hair was curled loosely, some pinned back, some framing her face just the way he liked.

And they matched, completely unaware.

His black dress shirt hugged his arms and chest. His silver rings gleamed under the lights. His jeans fit him unfairly well.

The night was already buzzing with tension.

Flirtation between them was heavy — the way she brushed past him at the bar, the way his hand hovered at her lower back when guiding her through the crowd. But they didn’t cross the line.

Until someone else did.

It happened too fast — one second she was laughing with her drink in hand, the next, some random guy was dancing behind her, sliding too close. His hand wandered to her waist, trailing down her thigh, fingers grazing dangerously close to that tattoo.

And she… didn’t stop him.

She was drunk. Loosely grinding back on him. Oblivious.

But Jungkook wasn’t.

He froze where he stood, watching someone else touch what he’d come to quietly claim as his. He clenched his jaw, every part of him screaming. His breath burned, chest rising with fury he didn’t even understand yet.

She wasn’t his.

But f*ck, it felt like she was.

The guy didn’t even get a name before Jungkook had his fist in his face.

It all escalated quickly — too many people, too much noise, someone yelling, someone else pulling them apart. Jungkook didn’t say a word, just wiped his bloody knuckles on his jeans, eyes never leaving the man who dared touch you.

“Dude was being a f*cking jerk,” he muttered when asked. “He was out of line.”

No one questioned it. The guy was too drunk to deny it anyway.

—

By the time yn found him again, he was leaning against his car outside, hands shoved deep in his pockets, knuckles red and eyes unreadable.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stumbling slightly in her heels as she walked over.

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”

But he didn’t flirt with her. He didn’t even look at her the way he usually did. That teasing sparkle in his eye was gone. Replaced by something darker, something caged.

The drive home was silent. Heavy.

When she asked again what happened, all he said was, “Doesn’t matter. He was out of line.”

But she could feel the shift. He was distant. Tense.

And yet… she had no idea that what boiled behind that cold expression wasn’t anger at her.

It was jealousy.

It was possessiveness.

It was the suffocating ache of watching someone else have their hands on her, touch her tattoo like they’d earned it — like they could.

But Jungkook couldn’t say any of that.

Not when she was still just the girl next door.

A girl who wasn’t really his.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 03 ✬

please check the comments!! :[ (again i am sorry for those who are really enjoying this story and want more)

[cgvejjk]

The Girl Next Door ¹ || ✮

⛧ summary ,, Late nights, thin walls, and one dangerously hot neighbor. She tried to resist the thoughts that came with his teasing smiles—but when he caught her mid-fantasy, the game between them turned into something neither could ignore.

⛧ genre : smut, erotic romance, slow-burn.

⛧ pairing ,, neighbor!jk x neighbor!reader

⛧ warnings : sexual content (handjob, kissing, masturbation), alcohol consumption, cursing.

⛧ word count ,, 3k

excuse any typo’s , hope you enjoy <3

✪ Jungkook fanfic

There were a few things Jungkook expected to see out his bedroom window, an occasional cat leaping from rooftop to rooftop, a tired neighbor sipping coffee on their balcony, maybe even some nosy pigeons pecking at the railing.

What he didn’t expect to see… was her.

She stepped out onto the balcony of the apartment directly across from him. Same floor. Perfect view. It was late afternoon—sun casting soft golden streaks through the sky—and the moving boxes still stacked behind her confirmed it, she was new.

And god, was she stunning.

Tall, toned, long dark hair that caught the light just enough to look like it had its own personality. The oversized shirt barely hanging off one shoulder revealed just enough to tempt and taunt. Long, tanned legs peeked through the slit of her shorts, and when she leaned over the balcony, glancing at the view, her thigh tattoo caught his eye immediately.

A black and gray floral pattern, high enough on her leg to make his brain short-circuit.

Jungkook blinked, then blinked again. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath.

She looked up and—shit—caught him staring.

He reacted quickly, throwing on that lazy grin he’d mastered and gave her a subtle nod.

Confident. Collected. Completely lying.

She didn’t wave back… not yet. Just stared. Slight smirk. Then turned her back to him.

And that was it.

No wave. No hello.

Just a view he already knew he was in deep trouble over.

—

It had been later that night. You didn’t mean to flash him.

Not at all.

You were just exhausted. First day in a new apartment. Movers were late, the elevator got stuck twice, and one of your boxes broke open halfway up the damn stairs.

So when the shower steamed up the bathroom and the scent of your favorite vanilla body wash filled the space, you let yourself exhale.

Home. Relaxed, finally.

Towel tucked around your body, music playing faintly from your phone in the other room, you walked out into your bedroom—completely forgetting one minor detail. The massive, completely exposed window directly facing another window across the way.

You also forgot your curtains were still open, prior to moving things in before.

And you especially forgot there was a tall, muscular stranger with short dark hair and a tattoo sleeve who just happened to live in the apartment directly across from you.

Until it was too late.

The towel slipped from your body with ease, hitting the floor as you reached for your oversized shirt on the bed. You slipped it on casually, not thinking twice. It was only when you turned back toward your dresser—now dressed in your usual sleepwear—that your eyes caught movement in the dark across the way.

He was there.

Leaning against the railing frame, black hoodie snug against his body. Coffee mug in hand.

Watching you.

Your jaw dropped. Eyes widened. Blood rushed to your cheeks.

And to make it all worse—

He smirked.

Then waved.

Waved.

You let out a breathless “oh my god” before scrambling out of view like a horror movie character caught in the final scene.

And with that, you didn’t sleep much that night.

Couldn’t.

Not because you were embarrassed (okay, you were), but because he hadn’t left your thoughts since that smirk. The man across the way.

Jungkook.

That’s what the girl down at the café had said when you picked up your free “welcome to the building” coffee.

“Don’t let Jungkook across the way charm you too fast,” she’d teased. “He’s got a smile that’ll mess you up.”

You hadn’t understood then. But now?

You were completely messed up.

And just over the time span of a few days..things got weirder—flirtier.

He caught you sunbathing on the balcony with a book and offered you an iced coffee by dangling it over the railing with a makeshift pulley system made of rope and a basket.

You sent back cookies in return. Homemade, soft, chocolate chip—your signature.

He’d message you on Instagram. Somehow, he found your page. Maybe through the apartment tag? You weren’t sure.

But his DM was simple,

[ Hot guy from my balcony ]

“The cookies were illegal. Just saying. Also, nice tattoo.”

You blushed. Again.

You replied..

[ yn ]

“you’re welcome. and stop staring at my thighs.”

He replied within seconds..

[ Hot guy from my balcony ]

“No promises.”

—

Then came the late-night chats from across the balconies. Him in joggers and a loose zip-up jacket, you in your usual short sleep set with a robe tossed over it. You talked about music, movies. His job (he did freelance design and somehow always had three clients yelling at once). Your work-from-home gig. Life. Exes. Favorite coffee orders.

Nothing too deep. Nothing too heavy.

But… intimate enough.

There were pauses in the conversation sometimes. Moments where neither of you said anything, just held each other's gaze across the divide. Like some invisible thread had tethered your two windows together.

Sometimes he’d stare at you just a bit too long.

And sometimes you’d let him.

—

One week after you moved in, you brought him a homemade welcome basket. Full of sweets—fudge brownies, banana bread slices, your favorite snicker doodle cookies—and a tiny note tucked in the corner.

“In case the coffee shop ever closes. xo — your neighbor”

You rang his doorbell. And when he opened the door, it was your first time seeing him this up close.

And damn.

He was taller than expected. Shirtless. Towel hanging low on his hips, chest still damp from what you assumed was his post-gym shower. His tattoos looked even better up close—more detailed. More him.

Your brain stopped working. He smirked—that same one from the balcony. “Well, hello again,” he said, clearly enjoying your silence.

You handed him the basket without saying a word.

Then turned around and walked back to your apartment—slowly, making sure he definitely noticed that tattoo on your thigh as you did. When you reached your balcony later that night, there was a note waiting for you in the same basket, now empty.

“I think I owe you something now.” And beneath it, a single coffee cup.

Your exact order—still warm. And boy..you swore it tasted even more heavily than when you usually ordered it yourself.

—

The next morning brought rain. Not a storm, not enough to ruin the day—just a soft, steady drizzle that painted the city in silver and made the world feel a little slower. You stood on your balcony, oversized hoodie hanging off your frame, mug of tea in hand, and your gaze—unsurprisingly—drifting across the way.

Jungkook wasn’t there. You weren’t sure why that made you frown a little.

Until your phone buzzed.

[ Hot guy from my balcony ]

“Still owe you a coffee. Rain’s not an excuse. You free?

Your heart did a little jump.

[ yn ]

“only if we can sit by the window. I like people-watching.”

And what you didn’t expect, what shocked you a bit had been his next reply.

[ Hot guy from my balcony ]

“Done. Pick you up in 10.”

Pick you up?..

Before you could even reply, you saw movement. A familiar figure stepping out the front door of your building from down below, black umbrella in hand, dressed in all black—hoodie, jeans, boots—and carrying that same calm confidence you were starting to find… addictive. Attractive.

He glanced up toward your balcony as if he already knew you were watching.

And when you leaned over to grin at him, he simply lifted the umbrella higher.

“Let’s go, sweetheart.” He shouted loud enough for you to hear.

—

The café wasn’t far. Just a corner tucked spot with warm lighting, plants in every nook, and the scent of espresso thick in the air. It was quiet, cozy—exactly the kind of place where a first not-date could blur into something that felt dangerously close to one.

You both slid into the booth by the window, your knees brushing under the small table, pretending not to notice (but absolutely noticing). He ordered his coffee black, two sugars, you got your usual.

“So,” you said, swirling your spoon through the foam of your latte, “Besides gym selfies and balcony brooding, what do you actually do?”

He chuckled, leaning back with a playful smirk. “I design stuff. Graphics, web, album covers, you know freelance work mostly. A lot of long hours and way too many clients who think comin’ sans is still a thing.”

You laughed—open, real. “And the gym selfies?”

You asked bringing up the selfies he’d randomly send you from time to time.

He shrugged, mock serious. “Crucial part of the creative process.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Nothing fuels artistic genius like mirror pics.”

He grinned at that, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “What about you? I know you bake illegally good cookies. What's the rest of your villain origin story?”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile too hard. “Freelance writing, mostly content stuff, articles, ghostwriting now and then. Oh, and I flirt with neighbors when I get bored.”

He paused, eyes narrowing with amused suspicion. “That so?”

“Yup,” you said, taking a sip. “Just so happens the one across from me is dangerously easy to mess with.”

He leaned in, forearms resting on the table, gaze locked on yours. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize how dangerous you are.”

And just like that, the air shifted.

There was a pause.

Not awkward. Not tense. Just… heavy with something unspoken. Something that buzzed under your skin and pooled low in your stomach. You broke eye contact first, laughing softly to defuse the moment. “Anyway. Favorite movie?”

He smiled but didn’t push. “Drive Or Inception. Depends on my mood.”

“Of course,” you teased. “You look like a ‘brooding male lead with a mysterious past’ type.” He grinned. “What about you?”

“Gone Girl.” You didn’t even hesitate.

His brows shot up. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

You both laughed, shoulders brushing now when you leaned toward each other. The conversation melted into rhythm—music, travel dreams, gym horror stories, tattoos, and the dumbest reasons either of you ever cried during a movie (spoiler: Marley & Me broke you both).

More glances were stolen, more smiles that lingered far too long. And when the rain slowed and the sun started to push through the clouds, neither of you moved.

You weren’t in a rush.

He watched you as you talked. Really watched you. As if memorizing the curve of your lips when you laughed, the flick of your fingers when you told a dramatic story, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved.

You caught him staring once, he didn’t look away—didn’t care to.

Neither did you.

Until the barista awkwardly cleared their throat and asked if you needed a refill.

—

By the time you walked back to your apartment, the umbrella shared between you, your hands weren’t touching.

But they could’ve been. And both of you felt it.

When you reached your front door, Jungkook lingered just a second longer. “I’ll see you around,” he said, voice quieter now, something unreadable flickering behind his dark eyes. You nodded. “Yeah. You know where I live.”

A beat.

And then he grinned, stepping back toward his own place. “Trust me. I’m very aware.”

Later that night, you were brushing your hair in front of the mirror when you glanced toward your balcony.

He was there again, leaning on the railing, hair messy, sleeves rolled up—coffee mug in hand. You stepped out, pulling your robe tighter around your frame. And leaned on your side, mirroring him.

No words were spoken this time.

Just a small smile. And that same silent, invisible thread stringing across the divide between your rooms.

Still pulling you both in.

—

Few days later..

Rain always sounded louder at night. It started around midnight—a soft patter that quickly turned into a steady downpour. You'd always liked storms, but this one brought more than thunder and lightning.

It brought problems.

The power in your apartment flickered... then died. The thermostat dropped too fast. And that stupid leak in your guest bathroom? Now dribbling like a cursed faucet.

You groaned, wrapped yourself tighter in your oversized blanket, and grabbed your phone.

You’d just moved in a few weeks ago, and the apartment was still in that weird “not-quite-home” phase. You hadn’t even figured out who to call for maintenance yet. But you did know someone.

Someone with working lights still glowing from across the way. Someone who had already proven dangerously charming… and just a little too easy to fall into a rhythm with. Quickly opening up your phone and texting him.

[ yn ]

“Hey. Hate to do this but… power’s out. My place is freezing. Bad leak. Any chance your place is dry and not a frozen cave?”

A second passed.

Then two. Then—

[ Hot guy from balcony]

“Door’s open. Come over, whenever you like.”

Simple. No hesitation. No questions.

Your heart thudded. Not because you were nervous, but because you wanted to go.

You quickly pulled on a hoodie, grabbed your little overnight bag (just in case), and crossed the hallway barefoot, rain smacking the balcony glass like an impatient knock. The second you stepped into his apartment, it hit you.

Warmth. Low lighting.

A soft, clean woodsy scent that clung to every inch of his space—his laundry detergent, his cologne, maybe even just him.

The apartment was bigger than yours. Neater too. Minimalist but cozy—exposed shelves with perfectly lined books, a massive wall-mounted TV, charcoal gray furniture, and plants he clearly didn’t water but somehow stayed alive anyway. A candle burned low on the kitchen counter, something mahogany and musky.

And then—there he was.

Jungkook, dressed in fitted black sweats and a loose white tee that hung off his body just right. His dark hair was a little damp, pushed back slightly, probably from the balcony. His tattoo sleeve peeked out from under the short sleeve, glinting when he turned to face you.

“Damn,” he said, offering a mock bow. “The girl next door really does show up when you call.”

You smirked, stepping in. “Only when there’s shelter and potential snacks involved.” He grinned and gestured around. “All yours. Shower, snacks, throw blanket collection—whatever you need. Mi casa es su casa.”

You gave him a mock suspicious look. “You always let strange women into your apartment in the middle of storms?”

“Only the dangerously attractive ones with sarcastic comebacks and killer baking skills.” You snorted but felt that twinge in your stomach again. The one that had been happening a lot lately when you were around him.

“So…” you said, holding up your bag. “Mind if I use your shower?” He raised an eyebrow. “Use it? Hell, I’ll even throw in a clean towel and not charge you for hot water.”

“Wow. You’re practically a saint.”

“I’ll be sure to put that on my resume.”

—

His bathroom was immaculate—black tile, soft lighting, towels folded with the precision of someone either raised by military parents or just secretly obsessive about cleanliness. You peeled off your hoodie, let your shorts fall, and stood under the steaming water, letting it ease the chill from your bones.

The scent of his soap clung to your skin—clean, masculine, something with cedar and leather and Jungkook.

You weren’t trying to take a long shower, but you didn’t rush either. The steam made you feel safe. Calm.

After you stepped out and dried off, you tugged on the fresh underwear you packed—a simple black set—and then your cropped tee and soft knitted shorts.

What you didn’t know… was that the door hadn’t fully latched shut. And that just outside, Jungkook had been walking past—things in hand, ready to knock—when it creaked open an inch.

He paused.

And before he could remind himself to look away, his eyes betrayed him.

There you were. Barefoot, warm from the steam, that sliver of tan skin between your shirt and shorts on full display. His gaze dropped, catching the edges of your thigh tattoo as you adjusted your shorts, stretching your arms briefly above your head.

His brain short-circuited.

He wasn’t a creep—never had been—but something about you, your presence, the way you carried yourself with no shame or fear—it did something to him.

Before he could get caught lingering, he knocked sharply and called out, “You decent?” You jumped, grabbing your hairbrush.

“Yeah! One sec!”

The door opened fully now, and there he was, holding two drinks and a takeout menu.

“I figured we could watch a movie,” he said, casually, as if his heart wasn’t hammering out of his chest. Due to his previous staring. “Order something. Unless you're already regretting crossing the hall.”

You raised an eyebrow, cheeks flushed—not from the steam. “Are you kidding? This is way more fun than dying cold in my living room.”

He smirked, stepping back. “Then come on, miss disaster. Let’s get comfy.”

—

You ended up curled on opposite sides of his huge sectional couch, knees almost brushing, watching some ridiculous action movie neither of you were actually paying attention to. Because the talking was better.

The jokes. The teasing.

The way you’d casually comment on something and he’d turn it into a flirtation so smooth it felt unintentional. “I’m shocked,” you said, after biting into a fry. “You don’t seem like a guy who alphabetizes his spice rack.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he said, voice a little low, “but if you keep digging, you’ll find out.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

His grin was slow. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Another silence—heavy. Warm.

The thunder rumbled again outside. You shifted, the hem of your shorts riding a bit higher as you pulled the blanket up. You caught him glancing, but this time, he didn’t even try to hide it.

“You’re staring,” you said.

He leaned in slightly. “You’re easy to look at.” You swallowed, heart fluttering. But neither of you moved closer. Because the line was still there. And neither of you was ready to cross it yet.

Not tonight.

Maybe not even tomorrow.

But it was close.

It was so close.

Eventually, you fell asleep under the soft throw blanket, your legs tucked toward his side of the couch yet Jungkook didn’t wake you.

He just sat there, eyes on the movie but attention completely on you. He admired the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted just slightly when you dreamed, the way you looked so damn comfortable in his space.

His home had never felt that warm before.

And as thunder cracked outside again, he whispered—so low only the shadows could hear it.

“What are you doing to me yn?”

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 02 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 08 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 3k

⛧ a/n ,, Again sorry for the late posting of these chapters, This is the last chapter, I hope you enjoy.. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

⑧

The sunlight crept in through the blinds, warm and golden, sliding across tangled limbs and rumpled sheets. Jungkook stirred first, his arm still firmly draped around Yn as if he thought she might slip away in the night. His eyes blinked open, heavy and tired, but the moment he saw her lying there beside him—cheeks flushed, lips swollen, hair wild against his pillow—his chest ached with something he couldn’t put into words.

She shifted, half-asleep, and he caught the flicker of a frown, like she sensed the way his grip had loosened. Instantly, she reached for him, pulling his arm tighter around her. “Don’t,” she murmured, her voice raspy from sleep. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That reassurance undid him. He buried his face into her hair, breathing her in, holding her like she was air itself. For the first time in months, maybe years, he felt still.

A while later, when the quiet stretched into something softer than silence, he leaned back just enough to look at her. “Are you hungry?”

She hummed against him, eyes still closed. “Mhm.”

That was all he needed. Pressing one last kiss to her temple, he slid out of bed, tugged on his sweatpants, and padded toward the kitchen. She’d stay curled up, he thought. Probably doze back off. But when he glanced up from the stove minutes later, spatula in hand, there she was—bare legs, messy hair, his shirt draped over her body like it belonged there.

Jungkook froze, spatula dangling midair, his chest tightening at the sight. She looked impossibly beautiful like that—raw, undone, yet more radiant than she ever did under the flashing lights of the club.

Before he could say anything, she stumbled softly into him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. He melted instantly, one arm looping around her without hesitation, his other hand still lazily flipping pancakes as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He bent his head, kissing the crown of her hair.

“Smells good…” she mumbled against his chest, voice still thick with sleep. Tilting her head up, she pressed a small, sleepy kiss to his chin before leaning back into him.

“Mm…” Jungkook chuckled lowly, leaning into her warmth. “I heard you liked chocolate chip pancakes, so I thought I’d make you some.”

That made her lift her head with a smirk, her eyes playful. “Oh yeah? And where exactly did you hear that?”

He grinned, brushing his nose against hers quickly before stealing a kiss. “Can’t give you any clues.”

She kissed him back once more, letting it go, then settled into his chest again, watching him cook. The kitchen fell quiet, but not awkward—just a calm, comfortable hush that felt new and perfect.

And then, casually, like it wasn’t about to knock the air from his lungs, she said, “I quit.”

Jungkook stiffened. “You… quit?” He turned to look down at her, eyes wide.

She nodded against him. “I quit working at the club.”

His brows furrowed, jaw tightening. “YN… you didn’t have to do that—”

“I wanted to,” she cut in, lifting her gaze to his. Her eyes were clear, determined. “I don’t want to present myself like that anymore. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Besides…” her lips trembled just slightly before steadying again, “seeing how much that ruined you, I didn’t like it. And I agree with you—it’s dangerous. And I don’t want anyone’s hands on me like that anymore. Just yours.”

Her blunt honesty knocked the breath right out of him. He just stared at her for a long moment, his chest tightening in a way that was both painful and freeing.

Finally, he set the spatula down, turned fully to her, and cupped her face. His voice cracked with the weight of it, “God, Yn, I love you so much, you know that?” He kissed her hard, like he was pouring every ounce of his heart into her mouth.

She smiled into it, whispering against his lips, “Mm… I love you too, Jungkook. But now you'd better hurry up with the food. Your girlfriend’s hungry.”

That word hit him differently. “Girlfriend”

His lips pulled into the biggest grin he couldn’t hide if he tried. He shook his head, half-amused, half-stunned. “Ah… my girlfriend, huh?”

“You heard me, guard dog.” She smirked as she plucked a strawberry from the counter, popping it into her mouth before cheekily feeding him one too.

He laughed, shaking his head as she perched herself onto the counter, looking like trouble in his shirt, swinging her legs while watching him with a grin. “Girlfriend it is then,” he murmured before leaning in to steal another kiss, tasting strawberry and her smile.

They finished cooking together, then sat at his table with plates stacked high, a random show murmuring in the background. But neither of them cared much for the tv—the warmth between them was enough.

For the first time, they weren’t a guard and a dancer. There weren’t any secrets or tension or what-ifs.

They were just Jungkook and Yn.

And it felt like everything was finally theirs.

—

Later that morning.

The smell of pancakes lingered long after they’d eaten—sweet, buttery, cozy. The kind of scent that made everything else outside disappear. Yn was the first to crawl back into his bed, half under the covers, one of his pillows hugged close to her chest. The tv played faintly from the other room, but it didn’t matter. The only sound that mattered was the faint hum of the ceiling fan and the steady beat of Jungkook’s footsteps as he came back down the hall.

When he appeared in the doorway, YN couldn’t help but smile. Hair still messy from the night, shirt hanging loose around his torso, tattoos catching the morning light—he looked nothing like the guarded bouncer she used to steal glances at. This version of him was real. Unfiltered. Warm.

He paused when he saw her there, small and content against his sheets, and something in his chest melted. “You’re stealing my bed again,” he teased softly, leaning against the doorframe.

She looked up from the pillow with a lazy grin. “You say that like you didn’t already invite me to stay.”

He chuckled under his breath and crossed the room, the mattress dipping under his weight as he sat beside her. Without hesitation, she reached for him, tugging at his wrist until he finally lay down next to her.

“Better?” she whispered when he finally settled in.

He nodded, looping an arm around her waist, pulling her in until her back was flush against his chest. His hand found its way to her stomach, fingers tracing idle shapes against her skin through the fabric of his shirt. “Much better.”

For a while, they just lay there. Her heartbeat was soft against his arm, his breath fanning over the back of her neck. Every now and then, she’d turn a little, just to meet his gaze, and every time she did, she caught the same look in his eyes—the quiet fear that if he blinked too long, she might disappear.

So she rolled over fully, facing him, and pressed her palm to his cheek. “Hey,” she whispered. “I’m here, Jungkook.”

His lips parted, but no words came out—just a small, shaky exhale as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She smiled faintly, thumb brushing over his jaw.

“I mean it,” she said again. “I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”

He opened his eyes again, and the softness in them made her heart squeeze. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

He kissed her then—not hungry like before, not desperate. Just soft, lingering, full of meaning.

When they pulled apart, she curled closer, tucking her head under his chin, her fingers tracing over the faint scars on his arm, the tattoos she used to secretly admire under the club lights.

“What’re you thinking about?” she murmured.

He exhaled a laugh, the sound rumbling against her. “That this feels too good to be real.”

“It is real,” she said quietly. “Finally.”

That silenced him. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in even closer.

Eventually, her breathing evened out, and he thought she’d fallen asleep—until she spoke again, voice drowsy but honest. “Y’know, I used to catch you staring all the time.”

Jungkook grinned against her hair. “Yeah? You liked it, though.”

“Mmm…” she smiled, eyes still closed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

She peeked up at him, her lips brushing his jaw. “Definitely.”

He laughed softly, pulling the blanket higher over them both.

And that’s how they stayed—tangled up in each other, soft sunlight slipping between the blinds, the chaos of the world kept far, far away. For the first time, neither of them had to pretend.

It wasn’t a guard and a dancer anymore.

It was just two people who’d finally found peace—in each other’s arms.

—

The next night.

The place was calm that night. A soft hum of the dryer in the background, faint rain tapping against the balcony glass, and the lingering scent of Jungkook’s cologne drifting through the space. Yn was curled up on the couch with her phone in hand when the screen lit up with a name she hadn’t seen since everything changed—Manager Lee.

For a second, she just stared at it, thumb hovering. Then she exhaled and answered.

“Yn,” the familiar voice greeted warmly, “I heard from the floor staff that you weren’t coming in anymore. Wanted to hear it from you.”

“Yeah…” she said quietly, trying not to let the nerves creep in. “I, um, wanted to thank you for everything first. Really. You’ve been great to me since day one.”

He chuckled softly on the other end. “You don’t sound like someone getting fired, so I take it this is you leaving me.”

Yn smiled faintly, her voice softer now. “It is. I just… I think it’s time I focus on something that feels more me, y’know? Something different. Something I can grow from.”

There was a pause. Then, surprisingly, a low, understanding laugh. “I figured that day would come. You’ve always been too sharp to stay in that scene forever. But Yn—just so you know—you’ll be missed. You were one of my best.”

That last part made her chest tighten, but in a good way. “Thank you. Really.”

“Take care of yourself, kid. And if you ever want to come back, the door’s open.”

“Thanks, Lee. I’ll remember that.”

When the call ended, Yn just sat there for a while, phone resting in her lap, staring blankly at the quiet living room. She wasn’t sad—more like relieved. The kind of relief that felt heavy at first, then lightened with every deep breath.

She didn’t even realize Jungkook had come down the stairs until she felt the gentle weight of his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey,” his voice was low, soft. “Everything okay?”

She turned, eyes meeting his. He was still damp from his shower, hair slightly tousled, dressed in his usual black fitted shirt and dark jeans. But without the vest and badge, without the tension of the club’s chaos in his eyes—he looked almost peaceful.

“Yeah,” she said, smiling softly, “everything’s fine.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You sure? You looked like you were thinking hard about something.”

Yn stood up and faced him, shaking her head as that smile widened. “I’m sure. I just… feel relieved, honestly.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Relieved?”

“I quit officially,” she said, voice lighter now. “Told my boss I’m moving on. He took it better than I expected. Said I’d be missed.”

Jungkook blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it softened into something proud. “That’s… actually really good, Yn.”

She nodded, stepping closer until she was right in front of him. “Yeah. It feels good, finally doing something that’s for me.”

He smiled faintly, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “You deserve that.”

Yn leaned into his touch, letting the moment sink in before noticing his outfit again. “You heading to work?”

“Mm,” he nodded, glancing toward the door. “Night shift. Won’t be long, though.”

“Good,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss him softly. “Be careful, okay?”

His hand settled at her waist as he smiled against her lips. “Always.”

She kissed him again, slower this time, letting it linger before finally pulling back. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I know.”

And with that, he grabbed his keys and slipped on his jacket, giving her one last look before stepping out. She stayed by the door a few seconds longer, hand still resting where he’d touched her, feeling a quiet warmth in her chest.

For the first time in a long while, her life wasn’t spinning.

It was steady—peaceful—even with the rain still falling outside.

—

The locker room was loud with the usual chaos of guys changing, laughing, and trading stories from the night. Jungkook sat on the bench, half-smiling at nothing in particular, when one of the guys elbowed him.

“So, rumor is you and that dancer finally made it official, huh?”

Another chimed in, grinning. “Man’s glowing, look at him. I haven’t seen him smile like that in months.”

Jungkook tried to play it off, tightening the strap of his watch. “You all need hobbies.”

“Oh, come on,” Jake teased. “We’re just saying—good for you, man. She’s a catch.”

That earned a real laugh from Jungkook, low and quick. He shook his head, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. “You idiots done?”

“Yeah, yeah, go home to your girl already!”

“Shut it,” he said, chuckling as he walked out, but the grin stuck with him longer than he meant it to.

—

Inside the club, something felt… different. The lights were the same, the bass still shook the floor, but the air didn’t feel as heavy. Without Yn there, he didn’t have to watch her deal with the hands or stares that always set him on edge.

But he missed her all the same—the sound of her laugh drifting from backstage, the way her perfume lingered in the hallway, the way she always found a reason to glance his way between sets.

By the end of his shift, the calmness had turned into something else. Guilt.

As he changed back into his street clothes, the locker room fell quiet again. Jake noticed his silence first.

“You good, man?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said automatically.

Another guard leaned against the lockers. “She’ll be fine, dude. What she did? It’s good for her. You’ll get used to it.”

Jake nodded in agreement. “And hey—she’s still here for you, just not in this place. That’s better, yeah?”

That landed somewhere deep. Jungkook gave a small nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

He grabbed his vest, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out into the cool night air.

—

The drive home was quiet, but for the first time, his thoughts didn’t feel tangled.

She did it for herself. For the right reasons.

And somehow, that made him love her more.

When he pulled into the driveway, that thought bloomed into a real smile.

The house was dark except for the soft glow spilling from the upstairs hall. Inside, he could tell she’d been there—her mug on the counter, the faint scent of her vanilla lotion in the air, a photo frame moved an inch to the left on the shelf.

He laughed under his breath. Of course, she moved things around.

Kicking off his shoes, he padded quietly upstairs. The sight of her hit him harder than he expected—Yn curled up on his bed, hair a messy halo, wearing one of his shirts that hung loose on her frame. One leg kicked out of the blanket, breathing soft and steady.

Guilt tugged at him again for being late. It was already past two. He leaned over, brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, tucking the blanket around her. She stirred but didn’t wake.

He smiled softly, grabbed a towel, and slipped into the shower.

The warm water hit his shoulders, washing off the exhaustion of the night. Eyes closed, he almost missed the sound of the bathroom door opening—the light steps across the tile.

Then two familiar arms circled his waist, and a small sleepy voice mumbled against his back, “Mm… I missed you.”

He laughed quietly. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

She hummed, resting her cheek against him. “Couldn’t. You weren’t here.”

Jungkook turned in her arms, water cascading between them. “So you decided to join me, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she teased with a soft smile.

He brushed his thumb along her jaw, tilting her chin up just a bit. “You know, you make it really hard to focus on just showering.”

She laughed and gave him a playful shove when she felt his hand dip lower down her spine. “Stop it. You’re looking at me like you’re about to eat me alive.”

He grinned, leaning closer until his lips hovered near her ear. “Maybe I am,” he murmured, then kissed her temple gently instead.

“Jungkook,” she whispered, half laughing, half melting under the warmth of his voice.

He just smiled, pulling her closer under the stream, the water running down both of them. No tension, no noise from the world outside—just them, laughter, warmth, and that quiet rhythm they’d somehow built together.

—

After the Shower.

Steam still drifted from the bathroom as they stepped back into the bedroom, both wrapped in towels and smiles. The air felt different now—calm, intimate, like everything outside that room had finally quieted.

Jungkook pulled on a pair of sweats while Yn dried her hair, slipping into one of his oversized shirts again. She crawled onto the bed first, tucking herself under the covers, and patted the space beside her.

“C’mon, big guy,” she teased, “you’re taking too long.”

He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair before joining her, the mattress dipping under his weight. She instantly snuggled against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat slow and steady beneath her ear.

For a while, they just lay there listening to the rain tapping faintly on the windows. Then Yn spoke, her voice soft but certain.

“I think I finally know what I wanna do next.”

He looked down at her, tracing lazy circles along her arm. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Something in business,” she said, eyes lighting up. “Maybe management, or marketing—something where I can actually build something for myself. I’m good with people, I know how to handle chaos…” She smiled faintly. “I just want to take all that energy I used at the club and put it into something that’s actually mine.”

Jungkook’s expression softened instantly. “That sounds perfect for you,” he said. “You’ve always had that kind of drive, Yn. You’re gonna kill it.”

She chuckled. “Kill it, huh? You make it sound like I’m going to war.”

He smirked. “You? You’d win anyway.”

“Please,” she laughed. “You’d probably just be there cheering me on with a banner.”

“Hey, I’d make it look cool,” he said, pretending to hold an invisible sign. “Go, YN! My girlfriend’s a boss!”

She burst out laughing and smacked his chest with a pillow. “You’re ridiculous!”

He groaned dramatically, throwing himself back against the bed like he’d been mortally wounded. “Ahh! My pride! You’ve killed me!”

“Get up, you idiot,” she said between laughs, crawling onto his chest as he feigned his downfall. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, a grin tugging at his lips as he opened one eye to look at her. “You hit hard.”

She rolled her eyes, still smiling as she straddled his torso. “Poor baby.”

“Mm, very,” he said, resting his hands lightly on her thighs. “Think I need CPR.”

She snorted. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back.

“I do,” she admitted softly after a beat, smile lingering as she leaned down and kissed him—slow, warm, and full of the kind of affection that made time fade away.

When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his. “You’re stuck with me, you know that, right?”

He smiled, fingers brushing her jaw. “Good. Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

The night settled around them again—soft sheets, quiet breaths, shared laughter still hanging in the air.

And for the first time in a long while, both of them felt at peace.

⋆ [ end ] ⋆ :> ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 07 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 1k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for the late posting of these few chapters, I’ve been busy lately. Here’s another chapter. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

⑦

The knock jolted him out of his head. Jungkook adjusted the towel at his waist, running the other quickly over his damp hair as he trudged to the door. He didn’t bother with clothes—he wasn’t in the mood to care how he looked.

He pulled the door open half-heartedly.

And froze at the figure in front of him.

“Yn?”

She stood there, quiet, unreadable. Her gaze flickered over him—his bare chest, the droplets tracing down his skin, the towel slung loose at his hips—before snapping back up to his eyes.

“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice even, but softer than usual.

For a beat, he just stared. Then he nodded quickly, stepping aside. “Yeah. Of course.”

She slipped inside, her eyes scanning his place with curiosity. “You have a nice place… seems cozy.”

“Uh—thanks,” he muttered, still stunned she was even here.

When she turned back around, her eyes lingered on him again, and he felt the awkward weight of standing there in just a towel. He cleared his throat, his voice scratchy. “So, um—”

But he never finished. She was already moving closer, her eyes fixed on his.

“I love you.”

His mind blanked. “What?”

She grabbed his face and kissed him before he could even process it.

At first, he froze again—his brain still catching up—but then he melted, clutching her waist and kissing her back like it was the only thing he knew how to do.

When she pulled away, her lips parted against his, she repeated it, firmer this time. “I said I love you, Jungkook.”

He exhaled, forehead pressed to hers, his voice shaking. “I love you too, Yn. I always have.”

And then he kissed her again—harder, hungrier—like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.

They stumbled back until her spine met the wall, her breath hitching as his mouth moved with hers. His hands were greedy now, sliding under her clothes, tugging, peeling away layers as though they’d been in his way for too long.

Her fingers curled into his damp hair, pulling him closer, making him groan against her mouth.

By the time her shirt hit the floor, he paused just long enough to meet her eyes, his chest heaving. “Yn, if we keep going—”

She silenced him with another kiss, her hand tugging at the knot of his towel until it slipped looser on his hips. Her voice was husky when she whispered against his lips,

“Shut up already.”

A sharp laugh escaped him, low and breathless. She wrapped her leg around him, pulling him flush against her, and that was the end of his restraint.

Their mouths clashed again, messy and desperate, the sound of it echoing off the quiet apartment walls. His hands explored every inch of her like he couldn’t decide where to touch first, her nails digging into his back in return.

He finally broke away, scooping her up with ease. Her surprised gasp turned into a soft laugh as he carried her across the room and lowered her onto the couch, hovering above her with droplets of water still dripping from his hair onto her skin.

Her hand slid down his chest, reaching lower, but he caught her wrist and pinned it gently beside her head, eyes dark as he whispered, “Not yet. I’ve waited long enough for this—I’m not letting you rush it.”

Her breath caught as he shifted closer, his voice rough. “I need to feel you. All of you.”

And when he finally pressed into her, the world seemed to stop—her nails clawing at the cushions, her mouth falling open as his forehead dropped to hers, both of them breaking apart only to come back together again and again.

Her whimpers, his ragged groans, the creak of the couch—that filled the room. Every movement was raw and urgent, years of tension snapping all at once.

“Yn,” he breathed, his lips ghosting her jaw, “don’t ever leave me.”

Her arms wound tight around his neck, pulling him in closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And the way she said it—breathless, wrecked, real—made him kiss her all over again, as though he couldn’t get enough.

The second Jungkook pushed into her again, YN’s head fell back against the cushions, a choked cry spilling from her lips. Her nails dug into his shoulders, leaving red crescents down his damp skin.

“Fuck…” he groaned, voice guttural, his forehead pressing to hers as if he needed her steadying him. “You feel—so damn good.”

He started slow at first, like he wanted to memorize every inch of her, the way her body clenched around him, the little sounds she made when he shifted deeper. But it didn’t take long for his control to fray. The weeks, the months, the years of keeping his hands off her—it all shattered now.

His hips snapped harder into hers, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the quiet apartment. Her breath hitched, her thighs tightening around his waist to pull him closer, deeper, until every thrust had her gasping.

“Jungkook—” she moaned, her voice cracking, and that was all it took for his restraint to disappear completely.

His lips claimed hers again, messy and wet, teeth clashing as they both chased each other’s mouths between ragged breaths. His hand slid up her stomach, pushing her bra higher until her breasts spilled free. He cupped one roughly, his thumb brushing over her nipple until she arched under him, her back bowing off the couch.

“Look at you,” he whispered against her mouth, his eyes blown wide, dark with lust. “So perfect for me.”

Her hands roamed desperately over his body—his chest slick with sweat, the ridges of his abs, the taut muscles of his back flexing with every movement. And then lower, her fingers gripping his side to urge him deeper, harder.

“Shit—yn…” His voice cracked into a growl as he drove into her, his pace turning punishing, desperate. She whimpered, clutching onto him like she might fall apart without his weight grounding her.

Her moans grew higher, sharper, her body trembling beneath him as she whispered his name again and again like a prayer.

When she clenched around him, her nails raking down his back, Jungkook lost it—burying himself deeper with a guttural groan, his hand fisting the couch cushion beside her head, the other gripping her thigh tight enough to leave bruises.

They rode the waves together, messy, overwhelming, until he collapsed onto her chest, both of them breathing hard, their bodies damp and trembling.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of their breaths tangling. His lips brushed against her collarbone, her hand still tangled in his damp hair.

Finally, he lifted his head, eyes locking with hers, his expression raw, vulnerable. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, even as her chest rose and fell unevenly. She cupped his jaw, brushing her thumb along his cheek. “I think I do. Because I’ve wanted you just as long.”

And he kissed her again, slower this time, as though he never wanted to let her go.

Jungkook stayed pressed against her for a long moment, chest heaving, his damp hair sticking to his forehead. His weight was heavy, grounding, but not uncomfortable—Yn found herself clutching him tighter, unwilling to let him move just yet.

His lips brushed lazily against her collarbone, almost absent-minded kisses, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “God…” he whispered, voice still broken and low, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Yn chuckled softly, breathless. “Believe it, guard dog.”

That earned a grin against her skin, his teeth grazing lightly at her shoulder before he finally pushed up just enough to look at her. His eyes searched her face—really searched, like he was terrified this would vanish if he blinked. His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb stroking gently, a stark contrast to how desperately he had touched her minutes ago.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his tone carrying more weight than the words.

She nodded, her smile softening. “Better than okay.”

Jungkook let out a shaky laugh of relief, dipping down to kiss her again—this time slow, tender, no urgency, just pure connection. Her hands slid into his damp hair, pulling him closer, savoring the warmth of his mouth.

When he finally pulled back, he didn’t move far. Instead, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. “Yn… I meant it, earlier. I love you. I’ve tried so hard to keep it in, but—fuck, I can’t anymore.” His voice cracked at the edges, raw with sincerity.

Her heart clenched, her throat tight. She reached up, brushing her fingers down his jaw. “I know. And I love you too. I think… I always have. I was just too scared to say it.”

The tension in his shoulders melted as if those words had freed him. He kissed her again, gentler still, his thumb swiping away a stray tear on her cheek that she hadn’t even noticed falling.

Eventually, he shifted, pulling out carefully, drawing a soft whimper from her. He grabbed the towel from where it had fallen to the floor and wiped at her skin with surprising tenderness. “Sorry,” he murmured, even though she wasn’t complaining. “Didn’t mean to go so hard.”

She smiled up at him, amused. “Don’t apologize. I liked it.”

That made his ears flush red, and she grinned wider, tugging him back down beside her. He laid on his side now, facing her, one arm draped across her waist as if afraid she’d vanish if he didn’t hold on.

The room was quiet, the only sound their soft breathing and the faint hum of the city outside. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no tension, no secrets—just them.

Yn traced lazy circles on his chest with her finger. “You know this changes everything, right?”

Jungkook caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Good. I don’t want things to go back.”

And in the quiet of his apartment, tangled together on the couch, they finally let themselves rest in the truth—they had each other now.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 08 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 06 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 2k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for being gone so long, been busy with exams and work. Here’s a little something I've been working on. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

⑥

The night had been going smoothly—until that guy. Drunk, handsy, sloppy. He didn’t take the hint when Yn brushed him off, didn’t respect her space when she leaned away. His hand slid up her thigh during her dance, and before she could even react, Jungkook was there.

It wasn’t like his usual, controlled way of stepping in. No, this time he snapped.

One second the guy was laughing, the next he was on the ground with Jungkook’s fist connecting again and again, raw fury written across his face.

“You think you can touch her?!” he roared, voice rough, nothing like the calm guard dog everyone knew.

The music stuttered to a stop. Gasps echoed. The other bouncers lunged forward, grabbing at him, straining to pull him back. It took three of them to pry him off, his chest heaving, veins straining in his neck as he tried to break free again.

The drunk man scrambled away, bleeding and shaking.

Yn stood frozen on stage, heart hammering, the robe suddenly too thin against her skin. She didn’t finish the set. Didn’t even think about tips. She wrapped herself up tight and walked off, head down, pulse racing with more than just shock.

Because as terrifying as it was, it wasn’t just what he did. It was why.

—

She spotted him outside after, pacing near the alley, jaw tight, still vibrating with leftover adrenaline.

“Jungkook!” Her voice cut through the night air.

He turned, eyes still dark, still wild. “He put his hands on you,” he growled, like it explained everything.

“You nearly killed him!” she snapped, storming up to him. “Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped? You could’ve lost your job. Hell, you could’ve gone to jail!”

“I don’t care!” His voice cracked, raw and loud. “I don’t care about the damn job, Yn—he touched you. I can’t—” He dragged his hands through his hair, chest rising and falling hard. “I saw it. I couldn’t stand it.”

Her throat tightened, hot tears spilling as she shoved at his chest. “You idiot! Don’t you get it? I’m scared for you! You can’t do that, you can’t just lose control like that—”

“I’m scared for you!” His voice broke, rough with emotion. “You think I can just stand there while guys put their hands all over you like you’re—like you’re—”

“Like I’m what, Jungkook?!” she shouted through tears, slapping at his chest again. “Say it!”

But he didn’t. He grabbed her wrists instead, firm but not painful, trying to calm her. “Yn—”

She yanked away, still hitting at him weakly, sobbing now. “You don’t get it, you never—”

He snapped. Hands at her waist, he shoved her lightly but firmly against the brick wall, just enough to shock her into stillness. Their eyes locked, both ragged, both shaking.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, messy, full of all the anger and fear and longing he’d been choking down.

She froze for half a second before kissing back, hard, just as hungry, their mouths clashing. Her hands fisted in his shirt, his palms roaming up her sides, gripping, needing.

Then—she broke away, gasping, shoving him back again. “Damn it, Jungkook—”

But before she could finish, she pulled him in herself, crashing their lips together again, deeper this time. The argument melted into heat, into emotion neither of them could hold back. His hand slammed against the wall beside her head, the other sliding around her waist, pulling her close. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging as she poured everything into the kiss.

It was wild, raw, and dangerous—just like them.

Until—

The back door creaked open.

They both froze, lips still wet, breathing hard. Another bouncer stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh… sorry for interrupting but, uh… boss wants to talk to you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook, still braced against the wall, glanced over, jaw tight. “…Yeah. Just give us a minute.”

The guy nodded quickly, ducking back inside.

The moment stretched, heavy. Jungkook finally turned back to her, still out of breath. “Yn… I’m sorry, I just don’t—”

“Go,” she cut in, straightening her coat, tugging her hair back into place, trying to catch her breath. “Go talk to him. It could be serious. We’ll… we’ll deal with this later, okay?”

He wanted to argue, wanted to say more, but she smoothed his shirt down, fixed his collar, like she always did. Her hands lingered for a second, then she whispered, “And wipe your mouth before you go in.”

His brow furrowed. “What—” Then he caught the faint smear of her lipstick on the corner of his lips as he checked.

She gave him one last look before slipping back inside, leaving him standing there with his heart pounding. He swiped his hand across his mouth, staring after her.

A low laugh escaped him, bitter but breathless. “Dammit, Yn…”

He’d lost control tonight—of his temper, of himself. And now he knew he was losing control of something else too.

Her.

—

The boss’s office was dim, smoke curling from the half-burnt cigar resting in the ashtray. Jungkook stood stiff, hands behind his back like he was on trial.

The boss leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “You want to tell me what the hell that was?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “He had his hands all over her.”

“I know what he did.” The boss’s voice was calm, steady, too calm. “And I get it. I do. But you can’t just pound customers into the floor. This isn’t a back-alley fight club, this is my business. Trouble like that? It gets the wrong kind of attention.”

Jungkook dropped his gaze, teeth grinding. He wanted to argue, wanted to say he’d do it again—but he stayed silent.

The boss sighed, rubbing his temple. “Look, I understand why you did it. Hell, I might’ve done the same if I were younger. But I can’t let that slide. You’re suspended. A few days, no exceptions. Clear your head. Come back when you can keep it together.”

It hit Jungkook harder than he thought it would, the word suspended. He gave a stiff nod, muttering, “Yes, sir.”

“Good man. Now get your stuff and head home.”

—

The locker room buzzed with low chatter as the other bouncers stripped out of their vests and tossed them into dented lockers. Jungkook stood off to the side, silent, jaw tight, yanking his vest off and throwing it inside with a metallic clang. He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, when Jake’s voice cut through.

“Hey…” Jake tilted his head toward the door.

Jungkook turned. Yn stood there, framed by the doorway, looking out of place and uncertain.

His chest tightened. “Yn?” he called, stepping closer. “What are you doing here?”

She shifted, arms crossing over herself. “Um… I just came to ask if you could give me a ride.”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

—

The car was silent except for the low hum of the engine. Tension thickened the air, every streetlight passing over their faces in sharp flashes.

Finally, Yn spoke. “So… what did he say?”

“Huh? Who..?” Jungkook asked, feigning ignorance.

“The boss,” she pressed softly.

He exhaled through his nose, hands tightening on the wheel until his knuckles went white. “Suspended. A couple of days.”

Her lips parted, guilt flickering in her chest. She saw the storm in his eyes, the way his jaw twitched. “Well… how do you feel about that?”

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, his low reply, “I don’t know.”

It was a lie. She could hear it in the strain of his voice.

The silence returned, heavier now, suffocating. Until he suddenly muttered, “I don’t like it. The suspension, I mean. I don’t like the thought of you being there and knowing what can happen.”

Her heart clenched, but she forced her voice to be steady. “Jungkook, nothing’s going to happen. There will be other bouncers. Besides, I can take care of myself—”

SLAM.

His hand hit the dashboard, the sharp sound cutting through the night. Yn flinched.

“Can you, Yn?” he snapped, voice cracking with rage and fear. “You don’t see what I see. You don’t hear the shit they say when you turn your back. The things they’d do if I weren’t there. Do you think I can just sit at home while you—” He cut himself off, shaking his head, chest heaving.

The car went quiet again, her tears glistening in the dim glow of the dashboard. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

By the time he pulled into her driveway, his anger had drained into regret. He sat there, gripping the wheel, fighting for words. “…I’m sorry.”

Yn wiped at her tears with the back of her hand. Her voice was soft, but firm. “Goodbye, Jungkook. Thanks for the ride.”

She opened the door before he could say more. The slam of it echoed, final, as she walked toward her house without looking back.

“Yn—” he called, but she didn’t stop.

He sat there for a moment, staring at the door that had shut him out. Then the fury returned, this time aimed at himself.

“Fuck!” He slammed his fists against the steering wheel, cursing under his breath, before slumping forward, forehead resting against the leather.

After a minute, he lifted his head, eyes locked on her darkened window. His chest ached, every nerve screaming with frustration, longing, and fear.

“Dammit, yn…” he whispered, before finally throwing the car into gear and speeding off into the night.

—

Few days later.

When Jungkook walked back into the club after his suspension, everything felt… different.

The music thumped, the lights flashed, the same regulars were posted at the bar—but the energy was off for him. Or maybe it was just her.

Yn was there, of course. On stage, moving like nothing was wrong, drawing eyes like she always did. He stood at his post, hands clasped in front of him, but his gaze was magnetized to her, searching for anything—a glance, a smirk, a flicker of acknowledgment.

Nothing.

She didn’t so much as look in his direction. Even when she passed near his section, her eyes stayed straight ahead, focused anywhere but him.

The distance hit harder than he expected. It was worse than her tears, worse than her yelling, worse than the way she’d shoved him that night outside. This silence was a wall, and he hated it.

By the end of the night, he told himself he’d wait by the back door. Maybe she’d need a ride again. Maybe that could be their first step back to normal.

But when he asked one of the other dancers if she’d seen Yn, the girl tilted her head. “Oh—she already left.”

The words sank like a stone in his gut. “Already?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone.

“Yeah.” The dancer hesitated, shifting her bag on her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said quietly, about to walk away.

“Hey, Jungkook…”

He stopped in his tracks, turning back.

The dancer gave him a knowing look. “Go and see her. I know she’s upset, but it’s because she really does care about you. Just… check on her, yeah?”

Her words hung in the air, simple but heavy.

For a second, Jungkook didn’t know how to reply. Finally, he gave a small nod. “…Thanks.”

She smiled softly, patting his shoulder before heading to her car, leaving him standing there with his chest tight and his mind racing.

—

By the time he got to his apartment, Jungkook was exhausted—not from work, but from thinking.

He dropped his keys onto the counter and collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. The dancer’s words echoed in his head, gnawing at him.

“She cares about you.”

If that was true, then why did it feel like she’d completely shut him out tonight?

He rubbed his face, sighing heavily. After a few minutes of pacing, of arguing with himself, he finally grabbed his phone. His thumb hovered over her contact, hesitation burning through him.

Finally, he typed,

“Yn… can we meet up? Just to talk?”

He hit send before he could stop himself.

And then he waited.

Five minutes. Ten. Twenty.

His screen stayed dark.

By the time nearly an hour had passed, his chest felt hollow. No reply. Not even a read receipt.

The regret came crashing harder. The look on her face the night he lashed out. The tears. The silence tonight. Every mistake stacked on top of him until he felt crushed beneath the weight of it.

With a frustrated groan, he tossed the phone aside and stripped off his clothes, heading for the shower. The water was hot, scalding, but he let it burn against his skin as he scrubbed at himself like he could wash the guilt away.

But nothing washed out. Not the image of her walking away from him, not the sound of her voice breaking as she told him goodbye.

He pressed his forehead against the cool tile, water streaming down his back, and whispered into the empty steam-filled room.

“Dammit, yn… what the hell am I supposed to do?”

He stayed under the spray longer than he needed to, palms braced flat against the wall, shoulders hunched as the water beat down on him. His thoughts looped in circles, each one sharper than the last.

The way Yn had refused to even look at him tonight. The sting in her voice when she’d shouted at him. The look in her eyes when she told him things.

He shut his eyes, jaw tightening as the images wouldn’t fade. He wanted to punch something, scream, anything to quiet the noise in his head—but all he could do was stand there, drenched and unraveling.

Finally, when the water started to run cold, he twisted the knob off.

The silence in the bathroom was deafening.

He grabbed a towel, dragging it roughly over his hair before letting it fall around his shoulders. Another hung low at his waist, clinging to his hips as he stepped toward the sink.

His reflection stared back at him in the mirror.

Messy, dripping hair. Bloodshot eyes. A tension in his jaw so tight it looked carved from stone. He leaned over the sink, bracing himself on his hands, water still dripping onto the porcelain.

For a moment, he didn’t even recognize himself.

This wasn’t the composed, controlled guard everyone at the club saw. This was a man fraying at the edges, drowning in something he couldn’t admit out loud.

He let out a shaky breath, dropping his head as the water slid down his temples. “What the fuck are you doing, Jungkook…” he muttered under his breath.

The question had no answer. Not one he was ready to face.

So he just stayed there, hunched over the sink, towel slipping slightly at his waist, the weight of regret and longing pressing harder than anything he’d ever carried on the job.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 07 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 05 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 2k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for being gone so long, been busy with exams and work. Here’s a little something I've been working on. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

⑤

Yn wasn’t holding back anymore. The teasing sways of her hips turned into slow, deliberate rolls against his lap, the silk of her outfit sliding against the rough fabric of his pants. Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his hands twitching at his sides as if they didn’t know where to go.

She leaned in closer, one hand tangling gently in his hair, tugging his head into her chest. For a split second, he froze, his face brushing against the soft curve of her breasts. The faintest grin slipped across his lips, unbidden, as she rocked against him. He hadn’t smiled like that in months — a raw, boyish thing he couldn’t contain even if he tried.

Yn leaned back, holding his gaze with a wicked grin, her body never losing rhythm. Her back arched as she lowered herself, practically melting down his frame, only to spin gracefully, her hips grinding against him as he instinctively grabbed her waist, steadying her. His fingers pressed harder than he meant to, securing her tightly as if she might vanish if he let go.

She rose again slowly, her body brushing his as she guided his large hands up to her waist, then higher — until his fingers hovered at the thin strings tied at her sides.

“Go on,” she teased, eyes glittering as she chuckled at his wide-eyed hesitation.

A low laugh escaped him as he tugged carefully, the strings slipping loose under his grip. She stood from his lap, swaying her hips as she stepped away. Each sway was more exaggerated than the last, and with one final tug, the silk top loosened, dropping to reveal the mesh beneath — thin, gem-studded fabric that shimmered in the dim lights, clinging to her like a second skin.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, a sound between a laugh and a groan slipping from his chest. He wasn’t just staring at a dancer — he was staring at her. And she was letting him see more than anyone else.

She spun to the pole, wrapping her body around it with flawless ease. Every arch, every slow shake of her hips pulled him deeper into the haze she was weaving. She slid down the pole, her legs tight around it until she released herself, landing in a slow roll, hips circling. Her eyes flicked back to him, burning, before she crawled across the floor toward the performance bed.

Jungkook’s throat tightened when she bent forward onto the mattress, her back arched, hips swaying as if the entire show was meant to kill him. The lace left nothing to the imagination. He had the perfect view of her ass, every deliberate roll making his pulse throb harder.

She crawled back down, slinking across the floor until she was in front of him again. Leaning forward, her face hovered near his, eyes half-lidded. Her hands slid lower, dipping between his legs, palms brushing against his thighs until they rested just where his hardness pressed painfully against the fabric of his pants.

“Come on, big boy,” she murmured, voice like silk. “Don’t be shy.”

His breath caught when her hand brushed his lap again, firmer this time, feeling exactly what she’d been grinding against minutes earlier. Her smirk widened.

With a playful tug at his belt, she pulled him up from the chair. He stumbled slightly, surprised, but followed as she led him to the performance bed. She pushed him gently down onto it, his eyes wide, disbelieving.

A soft chuckle escaped him, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

Yn disappeared briefly to the side of the room and returned holding a sleek bottle. Her walk alone was enough to make his blood rush — seductive, intentional, like she had him on strings.

“A little something from the boss… just for you.”

Climbing onto his lap again, she popped the cap, grabbed his jaw with playful force, and tilted his face up. “Come on, birthday boy… let me see what you got.”

He hesitated only a moment before opening his mouth, letting her pour. The burn of liquor hit his tongue, running hot down his throat, and he swallowed it down with a grin tugging at his lips.

She wasn’t done. Tilting the bottle, she poured more — this time down her chest, over the curve of her breasts. His mouth followed instinctively, his lips catching the liquid as it trailed over her skin. The heat of the alcohol was nothing compared to the heat of her body against his.

Jungkook chuckled again as he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His grin was more reckless this time, his usual restraint slipping under the haze of her presence.

Yn laughed softly at his expression, setting the bottle down with a clink. She leaned closer, brushing her lips against his ear. “Are you ready, birthday boy?”

His focus was gone — all of it poured into her as she slid her top lower, teasing, revealing just enough to keep him desperate. His eyes followed, glued to every inch of her, his breath harsh.

When she straddled him again, his hands finally betrayed him. They slid up her thighs, firm, climbing her waist, almost tentative at first — until she leaned in, urging him higher. She guided his hands to her chest, letting him squeeze, his breath catching at the contact.

“Easy, big boy…” she teased, pulling his hands down again, though her grin told him she liked how much he wanted her.

She tugged at his shirt instead, leaning in to kiss his neck. The first brush of her lips made him groan, his head tipping back. Each kiss deepened, lips and teeth dragging against his skin until he moaned low, his grip on her thighs tightening.

“Fuck, yn…” His voice was raw, breaking, his words spilling before he could catch them. “You’re too dangerous…”

She smiled against his neck, peppering kisses up his jaw until their lips finally crashed together. He was stunned for only a second before melting into it, kissing her back with hunger, his hands gripping her tighter.

It was fire. It was released. It was everything he’d held back, breaking loose in a kiss that tasted like want and whiskey and months of denial.

Her fingers curled behind his neck, pulling him deeper, and he let her. He let himself have her, just for this moment, kissing her like he’d never get the chance again.

But just as he wanted more — as his hands roamed higher, his lips chasing hers harder — she pulled back with a playful tug on his bottom lip. One last kiss, softer, lingering, before she whispered against his lips.

“Happy birthday, guard dog.”

She slid off his lap, laughter lacing her grin as she left him sitting there, wrecked.

“Sorry, big boy,” she teased, fixing her straps as she shot him a wink. “But I’m still on the clock…”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving Jungkook stunned, his chest heaving, his lips swollen, and his mind replaying every second of what had just happened.

—

The music cut off, and the silence that followed was deafening. Jungkook sat on the performance bed, chest heaving, hands still tingling with the memory of her skin. His lips burned where she’d kissed him, his neck raw from her mouth.

And yet—she was gone.

Yn slipped out with a laugh like nothing happened, the same sway in her hips she carried onto the main floor every night. If anyone looked too closely, they’d think she’d just finished another job. Professional. Unbothered.

But Jungkook? He was wrecked.

He sat there a moment longer, dragging a hand down his face, trying to steady his breathing. His heart still hammered like a drum.

‘ What the fuck just happened? ’

When he finally stood, his legs felt heavy. His body wanted to follow her, to pull her back in and finish what she’d started—but his brain screamed restraint. She’d made it clear, she was on the clock.

So he adjusted his shirt, straightened his vest back on, and tried to mask the heat still rolling off him before stepping back out into the hallway.

—

The other bouncers were gathered near the bar, laughing among themselves. Jake spotted him first, his grin splitting wide. “Well, well. Look who took his time.”

“Bout time you got a little birthday love,” another chimed in, patting him on the shoulder.

Jungkook rolled his shoulders, expression flat, trying not to show just how undone he was. “Yeah. Something like that.”

But the smirk tugging at Jake’s mouth told him his attempt was useless. The other bouncers knew enough to put the pieces together. They’d seen Yn disappear into the VIP with him. They’d seen her walk out looking perfectly fine. And they’d seen him now—jaw tight, eyes darker than usual, lips suspiciously swollen.

He brushed past them without another word, muttering, “Back to work.”

—

On the main floor, Yn was already back in the spotlight, dancing effortlessly, her smile as sharp as ever. She twirled, arched, and gripped the pole like she hadn’t just been in his lap minutes earlier, kissing him breathless.

But he knew.

And worse—she knew he knew.

Her eyes flicked his way mid-spin, holding his gaze just long enough for that sly grin to curl across her lips before she turned her attention back to the crowd.

It killed him. Watching her perform for them now, knowing what it felt like when it was only for him.

For the rest of his shift, Jungkook kept to the edges of the room, stoic as always, but every so often his eyes betrayed him, drifting back to her. To the girl who just wrecked his world in the VIP room and walked away like it was nothing.

—

When the night finally wound down, staff trickled out, laughing and chatting as they pulled on jackets and slipped into the night. Jungkook leaned against the wall near the exit, his usual post, eyes scanning the crowd out of habit.

Yn walked past with her bag slung over her shoulder, makeup still perfect, hair slightly tousled from hours on stage. She didn’t stop. Didn’t even pause. Just brushed past with a soft, deliberate, “Goodnight, birthday boy.”

He stiffened, eyes following her as she slipped into the dark parking lot.

No one else noticed the way his lips twitched, fighting a smile. No one else knew the war in his chest — the ache of wanting more and the thrill of finally having had something.

Only Yn did.

And she was walking away with that grin again, leaving him hungry for the next time.

—

The lot outside the club was nearly empty now, only a few cars scattered under the buzzing streetlights. Jungkook was still posted by the door, pretending he was checking his phone when really, he was replaying every second of what had happened in the VIP room.

He nearly jumped when his phone actually buzzed.

Yn: You left your gift on the table, guard dog.

He frowned, glancing back toward the building, then down at his phone. Her number… which he already knew.

Before he could reply, another text came through.

Yn: Don’t worry. I snagged it before one of the other girls did. Guess you’ll have to owe me for keeping it safe.

His lips twitched, and for once, he didn’t fight the smile.

Jungkook: So it’s a ransom situation?

A typing bubble popped up, disappeared, then popped up again.

Yn: Maybe. Depends on whether you’re brave enough to come collect.

He stared at the screen, thumb hovering. For years he’d been careful with her—professional, distant, always keeping his feelings locked down. But after what she’d done tonight, after the way she’d kissed him… the lock was already broken.

Jungkook: Where are you?

Twenty minutes later, Jungkook pulled up outside a small diner, the kind of place only locals bothered with at two in the morning. Through the window, he saw her already in a booth, her hair tied back, her face bare. No glitter, no lashes, no costume. Just her.

And she was stunning.

For a second, he just sat there, staring like an idiot. She caught him instantly—of course she did. She gave him a little wave, a smirk tugging at her lips.

When he finally slid into the booth across from her, she slid a small wrapped box across the table. “Happy birthday. You really would’ve forgotten it if not for me, huh?”

He raised a brow, amused. “You went all out tonight for someone who doesn’t even care about birthdays.”

“Mm, maybe I just wanted to see you squirm,” she teased, sipping from her milkshake. “You looked cute trying so hard not to enjoy it.”

His ears burned, but his laugh rumbled low in his chest. He leaned back, arms crossed, studying her. “Cute, huh? That's what you were going for?”

She leaned forward, chin resting in her palm. “Don’t play dumb, guard dog. You liked it.”

His eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. “Dangerous game you’re playing.”

“Danger’s my specialty.”

The way she said it, soft but deliberate, had his stomach flipping. For the first time outside the club, it wasn’t about roles, or the stage, or the job. It was just them. And she was still driving him insane.

—

When he finally drove her home, it was quiet in the car, but not the awkward kind. She pulled her compact from her bag, flipping down the visor mirror. “Do you mind if I do my makeup in here? The lighting’s terrible but…”

“Here,” he interrupted, reaching into the backseat for the small LED flashlight he kept in his kit. He flicked it on and held it up for her. “Better?”

Her lips curled, eyes flicking to him through the mirror. “Better.”

She worked in silence, his light steady, but every now and then he stole a glance—at her bare face, at the way she looked softer without the glitter and stage paint.

More real. More her.

When she finished, she turned to him with a playful little salute. “Thanks for being my glam assistant.”

His smirk was soft, different from the one he wore at the club. “Anytime.”

And for a moment, sitting in the dark outside her house, it felt like something had shifted. Like tonight had opened a door they wouldn’t be able to close again.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 06 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 04 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 1k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for being gone so long, been busy with exams and work. Here’s a little something I've been working on. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

④

It was later than usual, the kind of night where the club dragged until sunrise. Yn’s feet ached, her voice was hoarse from laughing too hard with the girls after their last set, and all she wanted was her bed.

As expected, Jungkook was waiting in the lot, leaning against his car like he belonged there. She didn’t even question it anymore.

“You’re gonna get a reputation,” she said as she approached, dropping her bag into the passenger seat. “Always hanging around for me.”

He gave her one of those tight-lipped almost-smiles — rare, fleeting, gone before she could decide if she’d imagined it. “Let’s go.”

The ride was quiet at first, just the hum of the engine and the city blurring by outside the window. But yn kept stealing glances at him. His knuckles were tight around the wheel, his jaw working like he was chewing on words

Finally, she sighed. “You’re tense.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I can practically hear you grinding your teeth.” She tilted her head, watching him. “Something on your mind, Jungkook?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but his grip tightened. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled — like he was trying not to let too much out.

“I don’t like seeing them touch you.”

The words hung heavy in the dark car.

Yn blinked, heart thudding. She’d been waiting for something like this — a crack in that wall he built around himself. But hearing it out loud, in his voice, was different.

“You mean the customers?” she asked carefully.

His jaw flexed. “Yeah. Them.” He shook his head slightly, eyes narrowing at nothing. “Doesn’t matter if it’s part of the job. They don’t get to treat you like that.”

She stayed quiet for a moment, watching him. The way his ears turned faintly red, the way his voice had sharpened like he hadn’t meant to let that slip.

Then she smiled, soft and slow. “You really are my guard dog, huh?”

Jungkook’s eyes flicked to her, just for a second — and there it was. That raw, unguarded look he always buried, exposed in the glow of the dashboard lights.

But then he cleared his throat, looked away, and muttered, “Just doing my job.”

Yn leaned back in her seat, smirking to herself.

He could pretend all he wanted.

But now she knew.

—

A few days later.

Jungkook had worked at the club long enough to know what went down in the VIP rooms. He didn’t judge the girls — everyone had their reasons — but it was the one part of the job he hated monitoring. Because behind those closed doors, the line blurred. Customers paid for the illusion of intimacy, and sometimes, they tried to push further.

Which is why his chest tightened when he overheard one of the bartenders casually mention that yn was booked for a birthday special tonight.

He froze. She didn’t do VIP specials. Not unless the boss demanded it, and that hadn’t happened in months. His jaw clenched as he scanned the floor, catching a glimpse of her disappearing down the hallway toward the back rooms, her robe tied around her waist.

Heat surged in his chest. Jealousy, anger, something he couldn’t name. He hated the thought of her in there, surrounded by grabby hands and entitled men, hated that she’d agreed at all.

So he planted himself near the hallway, arms crossed, jaw tight, trying to control himself. Every minute ticked louder in his head.

That’s when Jake, one of the other bouncers, appeared. “Hey, boss wants you in the back. Said he needs to talk to you.”

Jungkook frowned. “Now?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah. Told me to tell you.”

He hesitated — but if the boss called, he couldn’t exactly ignore it. With one last glance at the hallway, he headed inside.

The back rooms hummed with muffled music and laughter, the kind of sound that always put Jungkook on edge. He pushed past until he found the boss near the bar, leaning back in his chair with a cigar in hand.

“Room two’s got a customer making a fuss,” the boss said casually. “Go handle it.”

“Got it,” Jungkook replied without hesitation.

He strode toward room two, his mind already sharpening into work mode. But when he opened the door, the room was empty. Just low lights, a couch, and the faint smell of cologne lingering in the air.

He frowned. “Hello?”

Before he could turn back, the boss’s voice floated in from the hall. “Have fun, kid!” The door clicked shut behind him.

Confusion prickled in his gut. What the hell—

And then the curtain at the back of the room shifted.

Yn stepped out.

But not how he expected. She wasn’t draped in the skimpy lingerie she usually wore on stage. Tonight, she was in something different — more covered, a silk slip that clung to her shape without revealing everything. It was still sexy, but softer. More intimate.

And when she saw him standing there, frozen, her brows lifted in surprise but she knew why he was here.

“You're here..”

His breath caught in his throat. Of all the things he’d braced himself for tonight, this wasn’t it.

Not her.

Not like this.

Not for him.

—

Jungkook’s heart hammered against his ribs as yn pushed him back onto the soft chair in the center of the room. He barely resisted, still stunned, his mind spinning.

“Take a seat, birthday boy,” she said with a sly smirk, her voice dripping with mischief as she pulled a black silk blindfold from her robe pocket.

He blinked. Birthday? He’d forgotten completely. It wasn’t the kind of thing he celebrated, not anymore. But hearing it from her, seeing that glint in her eyes, made his chest tighten.

Before he could protest, she was crawling into his lap, her knees pressing into the cushion on either side of him. His body went rigid, every muscle coiled tight as she leaned closer, slipping the blindfold over his eyes. Her perfume wrapped around him, dizzying, making it impossible to think straight.

“Relax a bit, guard dog…” her voice dipped into his ear, her lips brushing the shell just enough to send a shiver ripping down his spine. “This is for you.”

He swallowed hard, fists clenching against his thighs, fighting the urge to react. Something deep inside him stirred, raw and unfamiliar, and he wasn’t sure if it terrified him or consumed him.

When she slipped from his lap, he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He heard the soft click of lights shifting, then the sweep of fabric as she opened the curtains behind him. Even blindfolded, he knew the layout of the room — the performance bed, the polished pole gleaming under low lights.

The music started, deep and sultry, vibrating through the floor beneath his boots.

And then, warmth. Fingers at his blindfold. She tugged it free, followed by the sudden weight of his security vest sliding off his shoulders. He blinked into the low red glow of the room, vision clearing just in time to see her at the far end of the room by the door.

She wasn’t yn-the-dancer on stage. This wasn’t for the crowd. This was for him.

Her eyes locked with his as she moved, hips swaying in time with the music. Every step toward him was deliberate, teasing. The silk slipped against her body like water, and when she reached the pole, she wrapped around it fluidly, arching back, her hair cascading in the glow.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened. His hands gripped the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles ached. He couldn’t look away — not for a second.

Yn gave him a grin, wicked and knowing, before circling around behind his chair. His shoulders stiffened as her hands slid down them, firm and slow, before brushing across his chest. She leaned down, lips hovering near his ear again, her breath warm.

“You know…” she whispered, “touching is allowed for this. You can touch all you like here.”

He closed his eyes for a second, his head tilting instinctively as her lips grazed his skin. The soft press of her mouth against his neck undid him — his jaw slackening, his chest rising faster. He hadn’t been touched like that in… he couldn’t even remember.

But just as he started to sink into it, she pulled back. Her hand trailed down his arm, a teasing brush that burned against his skin.

With a sudden tug, she spun his chair to face the pole.

And then she danced.

Her body moved with a fluid confidence, hips rolling in perfect rhythm. She trailed her hands over herself, across her waist, up her thighs, every motion designed to torment him. She turned slowly, arching her back as she lowered herself down the pole, her thin bottoms glinting under the light.

And then she bent forward — slow, deliberate — sliding the silk fabric down, revealing the black lace clinging to her as she dropped her shorts down. She looked back at him, eyes gleaming with a grin that nearly knocked the air out of his chest.

Jungkook sat frozen, eyes locked on her. Every muscle screamed at him to move, to do something, but his respect for her kept him still. She was driving him insane, and she knew it.

The music pulsed as she dropped lower, rolling her hips against the floor, arching up into a crawl. Her eyes stayed locked on his as she made her way toward him, deliberate, predatory.

When she reached him, she spread his legs open, sliding herself between them. Her palms pressed along his thighs as she leaned closer, her body moving in rhythm against him.

He couldn’t help it — his hands twitched, finally lifting to brush against her waist. He kept the touch light, hesitant, but she leaned into it, rewarding him with a sultry roll of her hips.

The heat in his chest spilled lower, sharper, as he realized she felt it — the hard press beneath his black pants. Her grin widened, mischievous, amused by the way he was coming undone despite his control.

She straddled him fully then, settling into his lap, her body working against his in time with the music. He touched her again, careful, only letting his hands wander when the moment felt right — her thigh, the curve of her waist, the briefest graze of her back. Always respectful, but never enough to satisfy the ache growing inside him.

She leaned close again, her lips brushing his jaw, her perfume filling his senses. Every move, every grin, every slow grind of her body made it clearer — this wasn’t just a performance.

This was yn, dancing for him. Finally, only him.

And Jungkook… was completely undone.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 05 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 03 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 1k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for being gone so long, been busy with exams and work. Here’s a little something I've been working on. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

③

The club nights rolled on, and yn couldn’t help noticing how Jungkook’s mask was starting to chip. Little things. The way he hovered closer when she was on stage. The way his glare turned lethal when men even thought about putting their hands on her. The way the other bouncers started side-eyeing him when he always ended up stationed on her side of the club.

And then there were the nights after work.

Sometimes, the crew would all pile into a late-night diner, still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and glitter clinging to their skin. Jungkook never sat too close to her, but he was always there. Silent, sipping coffee, listening more than talking. She’d catch him watching when she laughed at something, only for him to drop his gaze back to his cup like he’d been caught.

It was subtle, but it was happening. The space between them was shrinking.

—

One night Yn’s car refused to start, she stood in the empty lot, cursing under her breath. Most of the girls had already gone, and the last thing she wanted was to be stuck waiting hours for a tow.

Her phone buzzed.

Jungkook: Still here. Need a ride?

Her brows shot up. He’d never texted her before. Not outside of something work-related.

Ten minutes later, his car pulled up, headlights cutting across the dark. The window rolled down, and there he was — calm, unreadable, like this was no big deal. “Hop in.”

She grabbed her bag and slid into the passenger seat. That’s when he glanced at her fully — and froze for half a second.

No glitter. No lashes. No red lips. Just yn. Her bare skin, her hair loose, her eyes softer than he was used to seeing. She looked… different. Real. And beautiful in a way that punched the air out of his lungs.

“You okay?” she asked, buckling her seatbelt, brows furrowed at his pause.

He cleared his throat, gripping the wheel. “Yeah. Fine.”

As he drove, his eyes kept flicking to her, unable to help himself. Every glance was sharper than the last, pulling him deeper. He’d always thought she was beautiful under the stage lights, but here in the dim glow of the dashboard? She was breathtaking.

“Do you mind if I do my makeup in here?” she asked suddenly, digging into her bag.

He blinked. “Uh—yeah. Go ahead.”

She pulled out her compact mirror, clicking it open as she started applying. But it was too dark in the car, the streetlights barely reaching them. Jungkook noticed her squinting, struggling to angle the mirror just right.

Without thinking, he reached over and flicked on his phone’s flashlight, holding it up toward her. “Here.”

Yn looked at him, startled. For once, he didn’t look away.

“Thanks,” she murmured softly, going back to her routine.

He held the light steady, stealing glances at her profile as she brushed powder across her cheeks, lined her lips, blended shadow into the curve of her eyelids. Every move felt intimate, almost too much for him to be watching — but he couldn’t stop.

When they finally pulled up to the club, she snapped her compact shut, giving him a smile. “You make a good assistant, you know.”

He only grunted in response, trying to disguise the warmth creeping into his chest.

But when she stepped out of the car, he moved quicker than his own thoughts — circling around to open her door before she could touch the handle.

Yn paused, brows raised, but she smirked as she stepped past him. “Chivalrous, huh? Didn’t know you had that in you.”

Jungkook’s ears burned, but he didn’t say a word. He just followed her toward the club, his usual guarded expression back in place.

Except this time, she knew better.

And he knew she knew.

—

It became a pattern. One Yn didn’t even notice at first.

After long shifts, when the neon lights flickered off and the club emptied into silence, Jungkook was always… there. Not hovering, not obvious — just leaning against his car, scrolling his phone, waiting.

The first night, she thought it was coincidence.

The second, she raised a brow at him as she unlocked her own car. “You stalking me now?”

He didn’t even flinch. Just shrugged, eyes on the darkened street. “Parking lot’s not safe this late. Seen too many assholes hang around.”

She smirked. “So you’re my personal escort and my bodyguard now?”

“No,” he said firmly, looking at her for the briefest second. “I just don’t trust them.”

Them. Not the world. Not the late-night streets. Them. The kind of men who looked at her the way they weren’t supposed to.

And Yn knew he wasn’t wrong — there were always stragglers outside, drunk guys loitering near the curb, shadows that didn’t move quick enough when a dancer walked to her car. But it wasn’t lost on her that Jungkook only stayed for her. Not for anyone else.

So she stopped calling it coincidence. And maybe, just maybe, she started to enjoy it.

—

One night, her car still dead from repairs she hadn’t gotten around to, she didn’t even bother pretending to call an Uber. She just walked up to where Jungkook leaned on his hood, arms folded like he’d been waiting.

“Guess you’re driving me again,” she teased, tossing her bag into his back seat.

He didn’t argue. Just opened the passenger door for her like it was second nature now.

This time, she didn’t bother with makeup. She just slumped into the seat, stretching her legs out with a sigh.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” she said after a minute, eyes on the blur of streetlights as he drove. “Making sure I get home. Waiting around. I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” he said simply.

She turned her head, studying his profile. His grip on the wheel, his jawline tight in concentration. “Then why do it?”

Jungkook’s throat bobbed. He didn’t answer right away. His silence stretched, heavy, filling the car. Finally, he muttered, “Because I want to.”

Just that. No explanation. No qualifiers.

And it was enough to make her pulse skip.

When he pulled into her driveway, his eyes widened slightly as he took in the house. Not a mansion, but big, cozy, well-kept — distinctly her. Glass doors framed with plants, warm light spilling from inside, little details that screamed yn without her even being there.

He didn’t comment, but his gaze lingered as she got out.

“You coming in?” she teased, noticing his stare.

His head snapped toward her, eyes wide, before he quickly shook his head. “No. Not—no.” He cleared his throat. “Just making sure you get in safe.”

Her lips curved, soft and knowing. “Goodnight, guard dog.”

He watched until she disappeared inside, the door locking behind her. Only then did he leave.

And just like that, their routine was shifting. He was no longer just the bouncer watching her at work. He was the shadow at her side after hours, the quiet presence that made sure she always got home.

And yn could feel it — the line between “professional” and something else wasn’t just blurring anymore. It was disappearing.

⋆ [next chapter ] ⋆ 04 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 02 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 1k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for being gone so long, been busy with exams and work. Here’s a little something I've been working on. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

②

It was one of those nights where the air outside felt heavier than inside. The club had emptied slower than usual, and yn was exhausted — muscles aching, glitter clinging to her skin no matter how much she scrubbed. She tugged her hoodie tighter around herself as she pushed through the staff door into the back alley where employees usually slipped out.

She wasn’t expecting anyone to be there.

But Jungkook was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his figure half-shadowed under the dim security light. He looked like he’d been waiting.

“Thought you already left,” she said, adjusting the strap of her bag.

“Making sure everyone clears out,” he replied simply. His voice was low, calm, like it always was — but there was something in the way his eyes flicked to her before sweeping over the lot, scanning for anyone else.

She smiled faintly. “That’s part of the job description, huh? Guard dog ’til the end.”

That earned her the tiniest twitch of his mouth, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he pushed off the wall and fell into step beside her as she walked toward her car.

Yn raised a brow. “So what, I get a personal escort tonight?”

“You shouldn’t walk out alone this late,” Jungkook said, tone flat but firm. “Too many assholes hang around after close.”

“Right,” she teased lightly, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “But you don’t walk the other girls out.”

That made him falter for just half a step, his silence louder than any excuse. He cleared his throat, staring ahead. “You should get home safe. That’s all.”

She let the words hang between them, a smile tugging at her lips. He didn’t even realize how much he gave away in moments like this.

When they reached her car, she unlocked it and leaned against the door, not getting in just yet. “You know, for someone who hardly talks to me, you spend an awful lot of time looking out for me.”

Finally, his eyes snapped to hers. The air thickened. For a long second, neither of them moved.

Then Jungkook dragged his gaze away, jaw tightening. “It’s my job,” he muttered.

She chuckled softly, not buying it for a second. “If you say so.” Sliding into her seat, she shut the door and rolled down the window. “Thanks, guard dog.”

His eyes flicked to hers once more, dark and unreadable, before he stepped back. “Get home safe.”

As she pulled out of the lot, she couldn’t wipe the smirk off her face. Because now she knew for sure — it wasn’t just the job.

And if he thought he could keep hiding it, she was more than willing to push until he broke.

—

The crowd was rowdy that night, drunker and louder than usual. Bills flew, music pounded, and yn let herself melt into the rhythm. Her body swayed, slow and deliberate, every movement designed to keep eyes glued to her.

But she wasn’t dancing for them.

Not really.

Her gaze slid across the floor, cutting past hungry stares until it landed on him. Jungkook, at his post by the side wall, standing tall with his arms folded, scanning the room like always. Except — she could see it. The way his eyes kept flicking back to her. Always.

So, she decided to push.

As she spun around the pole, she let her hand trail slow down her side, pausing just a little longer than usual, her lips tugging into the faintest smirk — her eyes locked straight on him. It was a look meant for one person, and she knew he felt it.

Even in the strobe lights, she caught it — the tiny shift in his jaw, the slight twitch of his fingers like he needed to grab onto something. He looked away quickly, but not before she saw him.

And that was enough.

—

Later, during her break, she was lounging on the velvet couch in the dressing room, sipping water and scrolling her phone, when the door cracked open. Jungkook stepped in, glancing around like he wasn’t sure he belonged there.

“Manager wanted me to check if everything’s good back here,” he said. His tone was clipped, too casual.

Yn raised a brow, setting her bottle down. “Really? Since when do you do rounds in the dressing room?”

He didn’t answer, just leaned against the wall like he was staking a claim on the space. His eyes, however, betrayed him — flicking down her legs where her robe had slid open before darting back up, pretending it hadn’t happened.

She grinned, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “You know, you’ve got a terrible poker face.”

Jungkook frowned slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she drawled, tilting her head, “you should stop looking at me like you don’t want to be caught.”

His jaw worked, but he said nothing. The silence was heavy, thick enough she could feel it pressing against her skin.

Finally, he pushed off the wall, moving toward the door. “Break’s almost over. Don’t be late getting back out.”

And just like that, he was gone.

But Yn smiled to herself, lips curling as she sank back against the couch.

He was cracking—slowly.

And she was going to enjoy every second of it.

—

The club was packed. Shoulder-to-shoulder, bodies sweating under the flashing lights. Yn was working the floor between sets, chatting lightly, moving gracefully through the crowd, when she felt it — a hand on her waist.

It wasn’t gentle.

The guy was drunk, leaning in too close, his breath sour with alcohol. “Dance for me, baby,” he slurred, trying to pull her closer.

Yn twisted her body, giving him the practiced smile she used to diffuse situations. “Not how it works, sweetheart. Why don’t you take a seat and enjoy the show?”

But his hand didn’t move. It tightened.

Before she even had the chance to react, Jungkook was there.

He came out of nowhere, his hand snapping around the guy’s wrist, grip iron-tight. “Hands off,” he growled, voice low and dangerous in a way that turned heads.

The man tried to laugh it off. “Relax, I was just—”

Jungkook didn’t let him finish. With one sharp movement, he yanked the guy’s hand away from yn and shoved him back hard enough to send him stumbling into a table. Glasses clattered, people gasped.

The other bouncers moved quick, already on their way to haul the drunk out, but Jungkook wasn’t watching them. His eyes were locked on yn, scanning her like he had to make sure she was okay, chest heaving slightly as if it had taken everything in him not to do more damage.

She swallowed, her heart thudding against her ribs. She’d seen him throw men out a hundred times, but never like this. This wasn’t just work. This was personal.

And everyone around them knew it.

“Yo, Jungkook,” one of the other bouncers muttered as they dragged the man out, giving him a pointed look. “You could’ve let us handle it.”

Jungkook ignored him, turning back to Yn. “You good?”

She smirked faintly, still catching her breath. “I’m fine. You, on the other hand…” Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in, voice low enough only he could hear. “You really don’t hide it well.”

His jaw clenched, muscles working as if he was fighting himself. “Get back to the dressing room,” he muttered, almost too quickly, before stepping away.

Yn let him go, her smile curling wider.

Because now there was no denying it — not for her, not for him, and not for anyone else who had seen that look in his eyes.

And she couldn’t wait to see how much longer he’d keep trying to fight it.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 03 ✬

[cgvejjk]

Behind The Velvet Rope 01 || ✮

⛧ summary ,, She rules the stage with confidence, catching every eye in the club, but it's the bouncer in the shadows who really has her attention. Between the neon lights, jealousy, and the risk of losing each other to the world outside, they find themselves tangled in a dangerous pull of lust and something far more.

⛧ genre : Romance, Smut, Drama

⛧ pairing ,, bouncer/bodyguard!jk x exoticdancer!reader

⛧ warnings : explicit sexual content, nudity, jealousy, slight arguing, alcohol use, possessiveness, strip club setting, strong language.

⛧ wc: 1k

⛧ a/n ,, Sorry for being gone so long, been busy with exams and work. Here’s a little something I've been working on. ;]

disregard any mistakes lol, and hope you enjoy <3

①

The club always came alive at night. Music rattled through the walls, neon lights cut through the dark, and money fluttered like confetti. For yn, it was a routine. Makeup sharp, heels strapped, outfit clinging to every curve — the stage was hers.

But no matter how many eyes followed her across the room, she always felt one pair the most..Jungkook’s.

He stood near the back, broad shoulders filling his black security shirt, arms folded like stone. A bouncer — silent, watchful. He wasn’t one to laugh with drunk regulars or chat with the bartenders. His job was to keep the club safe, and he did it well. But yn noticed the way his gaze shifted whenever she stepped onto the stage.

It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t like the half-lidded stares men tossed at her every night. His eyes were sharper, heavier — like he was memorizing her. She’d catch him in the middle of it, only for him to look away a second later, jaw tight, pretending it didn’t happen.

And yet, he always seemed to happen to be there when she needed him.

Like last Friday, when some drunk pressed too close after her set, his hands too eager, his mouth slurred with words she didn’t care to hear. Before yn even thought of how to shrug him off, Jungkook was there. A hand clamped on the guy’s collar, dragging him back like he weighed nothing. One sharp warning, and the drunk was tossed outside, left muttering on the curb.

She’d seen him do his job a hundred times, but not like that. Not with that kind of edge. Not unless it was her.

When it was one of the other girls — her friends, her coworkers — Jungkook kept it professional. He’d step in only if things escalated, never before. His eyes never lingered, never burned holes in them the way they did in her.

The other dancers joked about it sometimes, not noticing the truth. “Your personal guard dog,” one teased after Jungkook broke up another grabby customer that week. Yn just rolled her eyes, hiding the curl of a smile.

Because part of her liked it. Liked knowing his eyes tracked her across the floor. Liked the silent, unspoken claim woven into his stares. It made the nights easier, and the routine felt less lonely.

But outside the club? Nothing. They didn’t text, didn’t hang out. The only words between them were practical — schedule changes, security checks, and little side comments during work. And yet, every time she walked past his post, she felt the weight of something hanging between them. Something thick, restrained, almost dangerous if either of them let it out.

What she didn’t know was that Jungkook had been carrying it for longer than she realized. Since the first night she stepped onto that stage, confidence dripping like honey. He’d felt the pull then, the ache that never dulled. The other bouncers noticed — they’d nudge him when his stare lingered too long, smirked when he always ended up stationed closer to her side of the club.

But Jungkook didn’t care. He’d keep it to himself, let the feelings gnaw in silence. Because she wasn’t just another dancer, and he wasn’t just another guy. Not when the heat between them threatened to burn everything in its path if they ever crossed that line.

And sooner or later, they both knew — that line wouldn’t stay unbroken forever.

—

The thing about the club was that everything blurred together after a while. Music, laughter, the snap of bills against skin — it all blended into the same rhythm. But for yn, the nights were defined by something else entirely.

Jungkook.

He was always there, steady as the walls that held the place up. Posted near the edge of the stage, or by the vip section, or guarding the hallway that led backstage. No matter where he stood, she could feel his presence.

And she started to test it.

On stage, she’d let her eyes sweep the crowd, linger longer than needed when they found him. Sometimes, she let her lips curl into the faintest smirk mid-dance, just for him. Not enough for anyone else to notice — but she swore his jaw clenched every time.

Other nights, she’d walk past him on her way off stage, brushing close enough that her perfume trailed heavy in the air. He never said anything. Just looked down at her with that unreadable stare, eyes flicking once before he forced them away.

But she noticed.

She noticed how his hands twitched when a customer leaned too far over the edge of the stage. She noticed how fast he moved when a man’s hand lingered too long on her arm. Always quicker for her than anyone else. Always a little rougher, like he needed them out of her space immediately.

It wasn’t lost on the other bouncers. One night, when she ducked into the back room for a break, she caught the tail end of their teasing.

“Man’s gonna pull a muscle from how hard he stares,” one of them laughed. Jungkook had only grunted, adjusting the strap of his vest like he didn’t hear it.

She bit back a smile.

But outside the noise, outside the lights, it was like none of it existed. When the shift ended and she slipped into her hoodie, hair tied back and makeup smudged, they barely exchanged more than a nod. He never lingered in the parking lot. Never offered a ride. Never let the boundaries bend.

That made it worse.

Because yn could feel it. In the way his eyes always found her, no matter how crowded the room was. In the way, his shoulders went tense when men even thought about touching her. In the way he looked at her like she was the only one in the building.

And the longer it went unspoken, the heavier it grew.

—

One night, after a long set, she stepped off the stage and caught him watching again. His stare wasn’t sharp this time — it was softer, almost like he forgot himself for a second.

She held his gaze. Just for a beat.

And that was the first time she saw it — the flicker of something raw in his eyes before he looked away, jaw tight, hands curling into fists like he’d just betrayed himself.

Yn smirked to herself as she headed backstage, heart hammering a little harder than she cared to admit.

Because she knew.

He wasn’t going to be able to hide it forever.

⋆ [ next chapter ] ⋆ 02 ✬