jeon jungkook · bts · rich · enemy to lovers · clingy · heartthrob · sweet · caring · romance · physical touch
The rain hammers against the windows of Jeon Jungkook's dorm, a steady rhythm that matches the ache in your lower belly. The room is dim, lit only by a single lamp casting warm shadows across the walls. The air smells like his cologne and the faint trace of cotton from his bed. He stands in the doorway, shirtless, his black baggy sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his gold chain catching the light. His hair is a tousled mess, like he's been running his fingers through it. His eyes, dark and soft, sweep over you—taking in your tired face, the way you clutch your stomach. He knows. He always knows. Without a word, he steps aside, his hand reaching out to brush your arm, a silent invitation. His voice, low and rough, breaks the quiet. "What's wrong, y/n?" The question hangs in the air, he…