Crossing Boundaries | Part 2
⊹₊˚‧︵‿︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Read part 1 first!
Trying to survive your first evening living with Jungkook.
Pairing - Jungkook x fem!reader (Y/N used)
Intro: Jungkook is annoying. The mansion is confusing. Dinner is uncomfortable. You're starting to think moving here was a mistake.
“Thanks, see you in a bit?”
You watch as Jungkook turns his back to you—shoulders loose, confident.
“Mhm.”
Just as he reaches the door, he pauses, glances back with a now fully formed smirk.
“And Y/N? Wear something that fits. Oversized shirts don’t work here.”
The implication hangs in the air as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in your room.
A beat.
That’s how it should be though, right?
His words echo in your head, heavy and deliberate.
Just then, you slouch onto your bed face-first letting out an exhausted groan.
“This is definitely going to be an interesting dinner.”
~
A few hours pass as you finish unpacking the luggage you have with you.
The worn-out feeling has you scrolling on your phone before checking the time.
6:15.
“Ughh,” you whine. “I need to get ready, I do not want to find out what happens if I'm late.”
You get up and head to the bathroom, a hairbrush and razor in your hand.
As you reach the door it opens suddenly—a freshly washed boy stands in the way. He freezes when he sees you, eyes dragging down your frame, then back up slowly.
“Oh my gosh,” you quickly interrupt, covering your eyes. “I am so so sorry I did not know you were in there.”
“Timing.” He doesn’t move. “Don’t worry about it, I was opening your side of the bathroom to let you know I was done.” A laugh. “Also you don’t need to do all of that. I’m covered up.
You uncover your eyes, looking down at the whole of his body.
Towel slung low on his hips, water still beading on his collarbones. Hair damp, skin flushed.
“You’re staring.”
You blink back into focus.
“Am not,” you scoff. “I just didn’t know you have a, uh… full sleeve.
You didn’t notice until the last second.
“Right,” he laughs again—low, rough. Still not covering up, just leaning against the doorframe blocking your path completely.
“When did you get all of that done?” you ask—awkwardly, trying to make conversation to distract from his very defined eight–pack.
“A while ago now, my dad always tells me how much he hates it, so I’m constantly covered up.”
“Oh,” you stutter
“Anyways.” He stands up straight. “You live here now. Gonna see more than this.” His tone drips amusement.
“I know you want to.” he jokes.
“Or keep hiding. Either works for me.”
You freeze.
“Is there some issue you have with me that I’m not seeing?”
He pauses.
“Am I your entertainment now that you’re not alone?”
You stare, completely obvious.
The gorgeous face staring back at you now smirking. He allows you to look.
“Entertainment? Nah.”
The body before you now steps closer, towel riding lower.
“Just honest. You asked about problems earlier–this is one.”
His gaze pins you in place, voice dropping to something almost dangerously.
Your eyes flicker back down to the towel at his waist.
He notices.
Of course he does.
“Eyes up here if you’re gonna stare, Y/N.”
Your eyes quickly meet his.
“Can you just hurry up and get out of my way?”
His head tilts, amused at your words.
“I need to get ready if you expect me to be on time,” you argue, rolling your eyes as you place a firm hand against his chest pushing him back.
“Someone’s impatient.”
“I do have a time limit you know.”
Finally, he moves, turning to the door connected to his room.
He pauses one last time, “And Y/N? You rolled your eyes at me twice today. Keep it up and I might just cause problems.”
“Whatever, keep track if that helps you get out any quicker,” you scoff.
Jungkook finally exits the bathroom, laughing under his breath as he shuts the door.
You’re left alone in the bathroom, catching your reflection—flushed cheeks, crossed arms. Outside, you hear faint humming.
“Uggh, I seriously need to hurry.”
The clock easily passes 6:40 as you wash up.
Rushing out, you grab the closest towel to you and hurriedly wrap it around your cold, drenched body, “Ew this smells like a dog,” you groan, spitting dog hair from your mouth.
“I do not have time for this.” You brush the fur from your body, searching for a clean towel.
You pull one from the back of the door. “Better.”
Now in your room, you immediately start digging through the messy drawers, already forgetting everything is different.
“Where is anything?” you mutter, tossing a hoodie onto your bed.
Every shirt suddenly looks wrong.
Too casual.
Too dressy.
Too wrinkled.
And unfortunately, Jungkook’s stupid comment from earlier isn’t helping.
You grab the first decent outfit you can find and change quickly before checking the time.
6:57.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
You rush out of your room, nearly tripping over your own feet as you head toward the stairs.
The mansion somehow feels even bigger now.
Every hallway looks identical.
Every corner leads to another hallway.
“Great. Lost already.”
You turn left.
Then right.
Then left again.
Nothing.
“Nope. Definitely lost.” A laugh sounds from somewhere behind you.
You freeze.
Slowly turning around, you find Jungkook leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
Again.
Why is he always leaning against something?
“You look lost.” “I’m not.”
“You’ve walked past this hallway three times by now.”
Your jaw drops.
“I have not.” “You have.” “I literally haven’t.” He pushes off the wall.
“You have.”
The grin on his face makes you want to throw something at him.
“Whatever.”
“Mhm.” Without another word, he starts walking away.
You stand there for a second.
Then another.
Finally-
“Are you going to show me where the dining room is or not?”
He glances over his shoulder.
“You coming?” You hate how amused he looks.
You hate it even more when he starts walking away again.
“You’re impossible.” “And yet you’re following me,” he teases.
You roll your eyes.
“That’s four.” “What?” “The fourth eye roll today.” A laugh escapes before you can stop it.
Jungkook looks back at the sound.
For the first time all day, the teasing expression slips for a second.
Like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh.
The moment passes quickly.
“There it is.” “What?”
“The dining room.” Sure enough, large doors stand open at the end of the hall.
Voices drift from inside.
Dinner.
Your stomach twists.
New house.
New family. New everything.
Jungkook notices you hesitate.
“Hurry up.”
You glance at him.
His expression is unreadable.
Then he opens one of the doors and gestures inside.
“After you.” For once, he isn’t smirking.
You enter, staring at the table.
Your mom sat next to Jungkook’s father.
“Here they are,” she announces.
“Sorry for taking so long. I couldn’t figure out the shower.”
“Don’t worry about it dear.”
Jungkook’s father nods, warm but assessing.
“Adjusting takes time.”
“Someone likes to mix up their priorities.” His tone light for his dad, but his eyes say he’s filing this away.
Staring back at Jungkook, your face reads; “Shut up.”
He catches it and his smile widens—deliberately ignoring you.
“Y/N,” his father gestures to the seat.
“Sit beside Jungkook. He’ll keep the conversation going.” Jungkook pulls out the chair, leaning closer as you sit.
“I always do,” he says before whispering; “Even when people stare.”
“Thank you.” “Anytime.”
He pushes you in and sits beside you, thigh brushing yours under the table.
“So, Y/N, how is your social life?”
“Uh, good I guess.” Jungkook’s hand finds your knee under the table—grip light, warning.
“She was quite popular at her old school.” Your mother interrupts.
“Mom,” you stare at your food in embarrassment. “No one says that anymore.”
Jungkook catches your expression, stroking his thumb once, slowly.
“Y/N seems like an extrovert.” His voice drops.
“She constantly rolls her eyes at me.”
You sharply turn to look at him, “I do not,” you chuckle awkwardly.
His eyes lock on yours, smile sharpening. “You did. Upstairs. Twice.” He leans in, voice sharp, “I have witnesses—mirrors work.” His father laughs, oblivious. “These two will adjust. Jungkook is particular about his space.” Jungkook’s hand slides higher on your thigh, barely noticeable. “Very.”
Pushing his hand away, “Yep, just adjusting.”
You reach toward your mom, “Pass the salt, please?”
Jungkook recaptures your hand under the table–fingers lacing through yours, squeezing hard enough for you to feel it.
“She’s already salty anyway, Mom.”
Annoyed, you squeeze his hand back. Releasing your hand, he drags his fingers.
“See, Dad? Already bonding.”
His father nods approvingly while Jungkook cuts into his steak.
“She’s got a good grip.” A pause.
“Makes up for other things she can’t control.”
