Jeon Jungkook Oneshots

Neighbour

"Just today," you said, pointing a thumb to one side. "Apartment number 3. I’m y/n."

You held out a hand to which he held in his gaze for an uncomfortable moment before he gripped your own hand in his.

"Jungkook." He shook your hand once, firm, his dark eyes fixing you in place, and it felt like an unspoken warning, of what you weren’t sure. But Jungkook’s expression softened in a second. "You should get some sleep, y/n, I’ll try to be quiet."

Still recovering from the whiplash his change in demeanour caused, you only managed a single ‘yeah’ before the stranger disappeared behind his door. You stood outside his door for a second, perplexed at the man’s behaviour, until the cold disturbed your trance and hurried back to the warmth of your bed.

Meanwhile, Jungkook waited, watching through the peep-hole. When you disappeared from the fish-eye lens, gazed back at the large suitcase, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Well, this complicates things."

The next few days were spent tirelessly organising everything from inside your moving boxes and grumbling at the flat-pack furniture, you invited Miyeon around, as promised, sitting on floor cushions and drinking the wine. The TV was finally working after a whole afternoon of setting it up, setting some background noise for your conversation.

"Oh, by the way," you started, a snippet from the news channel reporting a missing person’s case barely catching your attention as you continued changing the tv channels, "you never told me I had a neighbour."

"What?" Your clueless friend replied after taking another gulp of wine.

"Yeah, so much for your superstition, ay," you scoffed.

Miyeon remained confused, almost horrified with her eyes wide and jaw slack, which unsurprisingly unnerved you.

"Y/n," she started, putting down her glass, as if gathering her thoughts and courage to say the next few words. "No one’s been living next door for the past decade."

You didn’t answer. Granted, you hadn’t seen the mysterious neighbour since your first night, which just added to the unusualness of this all, the nonchalance in his voice and the iciness of his black eyes aired more alarm than it did before. Questions filled your head. Was the man, Jungkook, really someone to avoid? You saw the suitcase he brought, he could have just moved in and Miyeon didn’t get the memo. It’s not like she works closely with her father. But he said he just came back from a trip…

"I don’t know y/n, keep your wits about you," Miyeon’s voice interrupted your inner turmoil. "Maybe ask my dad about it."

A slither of wariness, thanks to your conversation with Miyeon last night, set in when you walked out your apartment, eyes naturally lead to Jungkook’s door as you turned to lock your own. You continued to walk past his door, sparing glances as if expecting him to jump out at you, when something caught your attention. There were handrails bolted against the walls between each door. A closer look at the handrail next to Jungkook’s door, you spotted a smear of something thick. You neared the suspicious mark, alarmed to find it looked a lot like dried blood. You were about to reach out and touch it until—

"Everything okay?"

His voice startled you, head whipping around at the firm timbre. Jungkook’s expression was hard until he met your eyes and in a split second, softened, stance easy.

"Hey y/n," he greeted, a charming smile tugging on his lips.

Your own expression did not change, gaze darting down to his hands where their knuckles were bandaged. You looked back at the blood, then back. "Did you hurt yourself?"