The ride to the club had been suffocating.

Jungkook sat in the driver’s seat of his sedan, his knuckles white against the leather steering wheel, while the hum of the air conditioner failed to cool the thick, awkward tension in the car. 

 Next to him sat Maya. She was wearing a soft, pastel-pink sundress that fell gracefully over her knees, her hair pinned back with a pearl clip—the very picture of innocence, sweetness, and stability. She was everything Jungkook had convinced himself he needed after months of burning alive in a fever he couldn't control.

"Are you sure your friends won't mind me being there?" Maya asked softly, her fingers lightly resting on his thigh.

The touch made Jungkook’s stomach tighten, a faint, guilty pang radiating through his chest. He forced a smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "Of course not. I told you, Jimin and Tae have been wanting to meet you properly for weeks. It’s just a casual Friday night drink."

"And... she won't be there, right?" Maya’s voice dropped, tentative and laced with an insecurity she tried hard to hide.

Jungkook didn’t need her to clarify who she was. The ghost of Y/N always hovered in the periphery of their relationship, an unnamed shadow. "No," Jungkook said, his voice firm, though the lie tasted like ash on his tongue. "I asked Jimin. She texted the group chat saying she had a shoot downtown and was skipping tonight. We’re safe."

Safe. That was the word he used. As if Y/N were a natural disaster, a storm system he needed to steer his fragile relationship around.

When they arrived at the bar, the neon red glow of the sign bled into the rainy seoul streets. Inside, the venue was a chaotic blur of thumping bass, sticky floors, and low-hanging amber lights. Jimin and Taehyung had already secured a large semi-circular booth near the back, a bucket of beers and a bottle of gin already sweating on the table.

"Look who finally graced us with his presence!" Taehyung shouted over the music, standing up to give Jungkook a brief hug before turning a warm, welcoming smile onto Maya. "And you must be Maya. Jungkook hasn't stopped talking about how much better his life is lately."

Maya flushed prettily, sitting down and immediately blending into the conversation. She was easy to talk to, polite, and genuinely interested in the boys' banter. For the first hour, Jungkook actually felt the tension drain from his shoulders. He sipped his whiskey, keeping his arm looped around Maya’s shoulders, pulling her close whenever she laughed. He was doing it. He was being a good boyfriend. He was building a life that made sense—one that didn't involve late-night panic attacks, shredded sheets, and a toxic, addictive loop of emotional unavailability.

Then, the heavy velvet curtains at the VIP entrance rustled.

Jungkook’s eyes shifted instinctively, a magnetic pull he hated himself for possessing. The air left his lungs in a sharp, sudden gasp.

It was Y/N.

She hadn't skipped the night. She stood at the edge of the lounge, shaking out her wet hair, looking entirely too lethal for a casual Friday. She wore a backless, emerald-green silk dress that clung to the curve of her hips and ended high on her thighs, her lips painted a deep, wicked crimson. She looked unbothered, dangerous, and completely aware of the room’s gravity.

Beside him, he felt Maya stiffen. Maya didn't know Y/N well, but she knew the look of a woman who held history in her palms.

"Oh, look, Y/N made it after all," Jimin muttered, his eyes darting nervously between Jungkook and Maya.

Y/N spotted their table immediately. A slow, lazy smile spread across her lips as she sauntered over, the heels of her boots clicking rhythmically against the floorboards. Each step felt like a rhythmic thud against Jungkook’s ribcage.

"Hey, crew," Y/N purred, sliding into the opposite end of the booth next to Taehyung, completely ignoring the empty space near Jungkook. She didn't look at him directly, but she didn't have to; her presence alone rewired the oxygen in his lungs. "The shoot wrapped early. Hope I didn't miss the party."

"Not at all," Taehyung said, trying to break the sudden ice. "Y/N, this is Maya. Jungkook’s girlfriend."

Y/N’s gaze finally drifted across the table. Her eyes, dark and glittering with an amusement that made Jungkook’s blood run hot, locked onto Maya. "Ah. The famous Maya. Nice to meet you." She extended a hand, her long, manicured nails catching the amber light. "Jungkook’s told me... absolutely nothing about you, but you look lovely."

The subtle, backhanded sting went completely over Maya’s head, but it hit Jungkook like a physical blow. He tightened his grip on Maya’s shoulder, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth ached.

"Nice to meet you too," Maya replied softly, shrinking just a fraction into Jungkook’s side.

For the next forty-five minutes, the booth became a psychological war zone. Y/N didn't openly flirt; she didn't need to. She simply existed in a way that demanded Jungkook’s complete, undivided attention. Every time she laughed, her neck arched back, exposing the pale skin he used to bite until she bruised. Every time she ordered another drink, she used that low, smoky cadence that used to whisper filthy promises into his ear at three in the morning.

Worse, she began playing with the group’s dynamic, subtly steering the conversation toward old memories.

"Remember that weekend in jeju, Tae?" Y/N asked, swirling the ice in her glass. "The night we all got locked out of the villa and had to skin-dip in the pool at dawn?"

"Oh god, don't remind me," Taehyung laughed. "Jungkook almost got us arrested by the night watchman."

Maya looked between them, a polite but strained smile on her face. "You guys went to jeju together?"

"Yeah, last summer," Y/N said, her eyes finally snapping directly to Jungkook, holding his gaze with a cruel, unyielding intensity. "Just before Jungkook decided he needed a more... structured routine. He used to be so wild back then. Couldn't keep his hands to himself."

Jungkook felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. His chest heaved. He could feel Maya’s eyes on him, checking his reaction. He was suffocating. The alcohol in his system wasn't numbing the desire; it was amplifying it, stripping away the thin layer of morality he had spent months constructing.

"I'm going to the restroom," Jungkook announced abruptly, his voice rough. He didn't wait for Maya to reply. He slid out of the booth, nearly knocking his glass over, and walked straight toward the dimly lit hallway that led to the back of the venue, desperate for cold water and a moment to breathe.

He didn't see Y/N slide out of the booth a mere ten seconds after him, a wolf trailing a wounded deer.

—-

“I know you think about me at night.” Her voice was a siren song that Jungkook so desperately wished didn’t call to him.

Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.

She wasn’t wrong. He did, he couldn’t stop, even though he had tried his damn best to do so. She haunted his mind and his body, day after day. She wouldn’t stop torturing him, but she couldn’t commit.

Standing in the dark hallway of the crowded bar, he had no intentions of seeing her. Despite the fact they ran in the same circle, they had the same friends, he had been told she wasn’t coming tonight. He felt safe. His girlfriend was back at the table, his innocent girlfriend who had no idea he was stood in the hall with Y/N’s arm draped across his neck and her hand running down his chest to fiddle with his belt.

“Y/N, please. Please don’t do this. Let me move on from you.” He pleaded his case, knowing he didn’t have the willpower right now to stop her. Despite the fact he was in a relationship, his dick was still loyal to Y/N. Shitty, absolutely awful. But he couldn’t escape her in his mind. And she tempted him at every turn.

“And why would I do that, gukie?” She purred, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. The nails ran over the little happy trail, cooing as she leaned her chin on his chest. He was so easy. So pliant for her. He drove her crazy too, but she was much better at hiding it outside of sex.

“Because I have a girlfriend now. I told you, this is over.” He exhaled sharply at the touch of her bare fingers on his lower stomach, under his shirt. No. He shouldn’t be… ever. But his body reacted to her like a trained puppy, eager and hard as soon as he set eyes on her. Her touch was only making it worse.

“Ooooh, that’s right. Your sad little girlfriend who’s sitting in the booth… miserable and unsure where her boyfriend is.” She giggled, knowing that it was fucked. She was fucked. But being hurt this many times before him had made her not care so much. And god, she wanted his dick.

“But little does she know… even when you’re around, you’re not all there. Are you?” She whispered, running her lips over his clenched jaw. He wasn’t moving. Jungkook could very easily break away. She wasn’t holding him hostage physically… at least not in that way.

“Y/N. Plea-“ he was cut off with a nip to his skin, his eyes closing for a moment as she sucked just a little on the area. It felt so good. So dirty. It always did with her.

“No… you aren’t there with her.” She continued as she pulled her lips away, eyes looking into his as her hand moved down his built body, digging her nails roughly into the skin. His eyes shuddered shut as he moaned, the pain something he woefully missed. “You can be buried inside of her cunt, but it never feels as good as mine does. I know it doesn’t.”