Please babe , soon an update ?
how about a little spoiler 😈…
By the time the sun started dipping, the whole apartment shifted. The light coming through the windows turned warm golden, soft, spilling across the bed in long stretches like it was trying to settle in with them.
Jungkook had one arm tucked behind his head, the other wrapped loosely around Y/n, pulling her into his side. Her back rested against his chest, legs tangled with his under the blanket that was barely doing its job. Some movie played on the TV. Something loud. Metallic. Explosions, dramatic music, a guy building a suit. Neither of them were watching.
Y/n’s fingers were busy. They traced slowly along Jungkook’s hand — starting at his knuckles where ink sat on his fingers like it belonged there, then dragging up the lines of his forearm. Light, curious, repeating paths like she was memorising him. Jungkook clocked it a while ago. He didn’t stop her, however. Watched her instead of the screen. The way her brows dipped slightly like she was concentrating. The way her thumb pressed a little firmer over certain designs, like she was trying to feel something under the ink.
“You interested?” he murmured, voice low, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips. Y/n didn’t even look up.
“Mm,” she hummed, tracing the edge of a design near his wrist. “Way more interesting than watching some guy spend two hours building a metal suit.”
Jungkook huffed. “It’s Iron Man.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s Iron Man or Iron Auntie,” she muttered. “Your arm’s winning...” That pulled a real grin out of him.
His hand shifted on her shoulder, thumb brushing slow, absent circles like it had a mind of its own.
“You like it that much?” he asked, voice softer now. Y/n finally tilted her head back to look at him, lashes faintly brushing the top of her cheeks, eyes a little too focused for someone just messing around.
“I think I like the person it’s attached to more.”
That landed softly upon Jungkook’s tummy. Just sat there, somewhere under his ribs. His fingers tightened slightly at her shoulder before relaxing again.
“Careful,” he muttered. “You’re starting to sound like you’re in love with me.”
“Relax,” she scoffed lightly, but there was a smile sitting in it. “Don’t let it get to your head.”
Silence slipped back in. Y/n’s fingers slowed. Then stopped.
“Oh shit,” she said suddenly, pushing herself up slightly so she could look at him.
Jungkook frowned a little. “What?”
“I just remembered,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ve got a fashionshow next Wednesday. Big one.” He watched her, listening. “I thought…you’d like to come?” she added, trying to sound casual — but it wasn’t fully casual. Jungkook let out a quiet breath, head tipping back against the pillow.
Y/n’s brows pulled together slightly. “What?” He looked back at her, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.
“As much as I’d love to see you all dressed up looking hot as fuck,” he said, lips twitching, “I promised Seoyeon I’d take her out.”
Y/n blinked once—but there was no confusion this time. “The Hello Kitty boss?” she said.
Jungkook snorted. “Yeah. That one.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “That’s okay,” she said easily. “You should spend time with her.” He studied her face for a second, like he was double-checking she wasn’t secretly upset.
Y/n shrugged, soft. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m not fighting a kid over her brother.” That earned a quiet chuckle from him. Jungkook’s gaze lingered on her for a beat longer — something softer settling in his expression. Then he leaned in, slow. His hand came up, fingers sliding along her jaw before cupping her cheek as his lips pressed against hers. Warm. Intentional. Not rushed. Y/n melted into it instantly. Her fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer like she needed the contact. Needed him there.
“Consider that my apology,” he murmured against her lips. She let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh.
“Lame apology,” she whispered back. “You can do better than that, racer king.” Her fingers tugged at his dark locks. His eyes flickered.
That was enough. The kiss deepened — not messy, not out of control — but heavier. Slower. The kind that built instead of exploded. His hand slid from her face to her waist, pulling her over him until she was half on top of him, bodies lining up like it made sense. Her other hand found his again, fingers slipping between his before drifting back to his wrist, his arm, tracing him like she couldn’t help it. Her feather like touches made Jungkook shudder.
“Keep doing that,” he muttered, breath starting to lose its rhythm, “and I’m banning you from touching me during movies.”
“You weren’t even watching,” she murmured against his lips.
“Was busy watching you, model.”
