Chapter 1: The Proposition

The campus coffee shop buzzed with its usual afternoon energy, but you barely noticed the chatter around you as you hunched over your psychology textbook, highlighter poised mid-air. Finals were approaching, and your scholarship depended on maintaining your GPA. You couldn't afford distractions.

"Mind if I sit?"

The deep, velvet voice made you look up, and your breath caught. Jeon Jungkook stood beside your table, all six feet of him radiating that effortless confidence that made half the campus swoon. His dark hair was tousled just right, and those infamous doe eyes held an intensity that made your stomach flip.

"It's a free country," you managed, trying to sound unimpressed despite your racing pulse.

He slid into the chair across from you with fluid grace, his presence immediately commanding the space. You caught the subtle scent of his cologne – something expensive and masculine that made your thoughts scatter.

"You're Y/N, right? From Professor Kim's advanced psychology class?"

You nodded, suspicious. Jungkook was campus royalty – star of the soccer team, heir to a massive tech fortune, and notorious for his rotating door of beautiful girlfriends. You existed in completely different stratospheres.

"I need your help," he said, leaning forward slightly. The movement made his black henley stretch across his broad chest, and you forced yourself to focus on his face.

"With what? Psychology homework?" Your tone was skeptical.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Something like that. More like... behavioral modification."

Before you could ask what he meant, a sharp voice cut through the coffee shop ambiance.

"Kookie!"

You both turned to see a stunning girl with long black hair approaching, her designer outfit and perfect makeup screaming wealth and privilege. Jungkook's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Seoyeon," he acknowledged coolly.

She ignored you completely, sliding her manicured hand across the table toward him. "I've been trying to reach you. We need to talk."

"We broke up, remember? Your decision." His voice was controlled, but you caught the edge beneath it.

"I made a mistake. You know we're perfect together." Her voice turned pleading. "Everyone thinks so."

"Everyone can mind their own business." Jungkook's response was sharp, final.

Seoyeon's perfect composure cracked slightly. "Don't be like this. You know you still—"

"Actually," Jungkook interrupted, reaching across the table to cover your hand with his much larger one. The contact sent electricity shooting up your arm. "I'm here with my girlfriend."

Your eyes widened, but before you could protest, his thumb stroked across your knuckles in a gesture that looked intimate and possessive. His dark eyes locked with yours, a silent plea mixed with something that looked almost predatory.

"Play along," he murmured, so quietly only you could hear.

Seoyeon's gaze finally landed on you, her expression shifting from confusion to barely concealed disdain. "Her?"

The dismissive tone sparked your temper. Without thinking, you turned your hand palm-up beneath Jungkook's, intertwining your fingers. "Is there a problem?"

Jungkook's grip tightened slightly, and you caught the flash of approval in his eyes.

"When did this happen?" Seoyeon's voice was shrill now. "You were just with me last month—"

"Last month you told me you needed 'space to find yourself,'" Jungkook cut her off. "Congratulations, you found yourself single."

The ice in his tone made you shiver. This was a side of the golden boy that the campus gossips never talked about – the sharp edge beneath all that charm.

Seoyeon's face flushed red. She opened her mouth for what was surely going to be a scathing retort, but Jungkook stood smoothly, still holding your hand.

"We should go, sweetheart," he said, and the endearment in his deep voice made heat pool in your stomach despite knowing it was fake. "Dinner reservations."

Before you could think of a reason to refuse, he was pulling you to your feet and guiding you toward the exit with a possessive hand on the small of your back. The touch burned through your thin sweater.

Once outside, you jerked away from him, your cheeks flaming. "What the hell was that?"

"That," he said, running a hand through his hair, "was me being desperate."

"Desperate enough to drag a random stranger into your drama?"

"You're not random." His intense gaze made you feel exposed. "I've noticed you."

"Noticed me?" You laughed shakily. "Right. The golden boy notices the scholarship kid who spends her time buried in books."

"The intelligent, beautiful woman who doesn't fall all over herself when I walk by," he corrected, stepping closer. "Do you know how rare that is?"

Your breath caught as he moved into your personal space. Up close, you could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the small scar on his left cheek that somehow made him even more devastating.

"What do you want, Jungkook?"

"You," he said simply, and your heart stopped. "To pretend to be my girlfriend until Seoyeon gets the message and moves on."

"That's insane."

"Is it?" He tilted his head, studying you. "What if I made it worth your while?"

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore how the movement made his eyes briefly drop to your chest. "I don't need your money."

"Not money." His smile was slow, dangerous. "Tutoring. I happen to know you need volunteer hours for your psychology program. I also happen to know the campus community center needs help with their after-school program."

Damn him for doing his homework. "You researched me?"

"I pay attention." He stepped closer again, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. "Help me, and I'll make sure you get all the volunteer hours you need. Plus," his voice dropped to a murmur that made your toes curl, "you might find you enjoy spending time with me."

The arrogance should have been off-putting. Instead, paired with that voice and those eyes, it made your knees weak.

"This is crazy," you whispered.

"Crazy can be good." His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch feather-light but electric. "What do you say, sweetheart?"

The endearment in that voice was going to be the death of you.

"One month," you heard yourself saying. "And we set boundaries."

His smile was triumphant, predatory. "Deal. But Y/N?" He leaned down until his lips brushed your ear. "You might find those boundaries aren't as fixed as you think."

## Chapter 2: Setting the Terms

Twenty-four hours later, you found yourself in Jungkook's off-campus apartment, and you were trying very hard not to gawk. The penthouse was all floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek furniture, and minimalist design that screamed expensive taste.

"Nice place," you said, setting your bag down by the door.

"Thanks." He emerged from what you assumed was the kitchen, carrying two glasses of wine. "Figured we should discuss the parameters of our arrangement somewhere private."

You accepted the glass, noting how his fingers brushed yours during the handoff. "Parameters. Right. Very businesslike."

"Oh, sweetheart," his voice dropped to that low register that made your pulse race, "there's nothing businesslike about what I'm thinking right now."

Heat flooded your cheeks. "Jungkook—"

"Relax." He settled onto the couch, patting the space beside him. "I'm just playing my part. Better get used to it."

You perched on the opposite end, trying to maintain some distance. "Okay, so what exactly does this fake relationship entail?"

"Public appearances, mostly. Dinner dates, campus events, being seen together." He took a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving yours. "And we need to be convincing."

"Convincing how?"

His smile was wicked. "Well, we'd need to touch. Hold hands, maybe some... intimate moments when Seoyeon's around."

"Intimate moments?" Your voice came out higher than intended.

"Nothing you're not comfortable with," he assured, but there was something in his tone that suggested he planned to expand your comfort zone. "Though I should warn you – I don't do anything halfway."

"Meaning?"

He set down his wine and moved closer, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours. "Meaning when I touch you, when I kiss you, it's going to look real. Feel real."

Your breathing went shallow. "It won't be real, though."

"Won't it?" His hand came up to trace along your jawline, and you couldn't suppress the shiver that ran through you. "Your body seems to think it is."

"That's just..." You struggled to form words with his thumb now brushing across your lower lip. "Physical reaction. Doesn't mean anything."

"Liar." The word was a soft growl against your ear as he leaned closer. "But we'll play it your way. For now."

You pulled back, needing space to think clearly. "Ground rules. No staying overnight, no real intimacy, and this ends in exactly one month."

"Agreed." His easy acceptance should have been reassuring. Instead, it felt like a challenge. "Anything else?"

"Yeah. Don't make me fall for you."

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and his expression shifted – surprise flickering across his features before being replaced by something darker, more intense.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "I think it's too late for that rule."

Before you could ask what he meant, your phone buzzed. A text from your roommate: *Seoyeon Kim just asked me about you and Jungkook. Word travels fast.*

You showed him the message, and his jaw tightened. "That was quick, even for her."

"She's checking up on me already?"

"Seoyeon doesn't like losing." His voice carried a warning. "She's going to make things difficult."

"Difficult how?"

Instead of answering directly, he stood and offered you his hand. "Come on. Let's go make an appearance."

"Where?"

His smile was pure sin. "Somewhere she'll definitely see us."

## Chapter 3: Playing the Part

The upscale restaurant Jungkook chose was exactly the kind of place campus royalty frequented – dim lighting, expensive wine, and an atmosphere that screamed romance. You felt underdressed in your simple black dress until you saw the way Jungkook's eyes darkened when he looked at you.

"You look beautiful," he murmured as the hostess led you to a corner table.

"It's just a dress," you deflected, but your skin warmed under his appreciative gaze.

"It's not the dress." His hand found the small of your back as you walked, the touch possessive and warm through the thin fabric. "Though I do appreciate how it fits you."

Heat pooled in your stomach at his words. This fake dating thing was going to be harder than you thought if he kept looking at you like he wanted to devour you.

He pulled out your chair – a gentlemanly gesture that somehow felt sensual when he did it, his body caging you in for just a moment as he pushed the chair in.

"You're really committed to this whole charade," you said as he settled across from you.

"Charade?" He signaled the waiter for wine. "Sweetheart, there's nothing fake about wanting to spoil you."

Before you could respond, you caught sight of familiar dark hair across the restaurant. Seoyeon, of course, with two friends, their eyes locked on your table.

"She's here," you murmured.

Jungkook didn't turn around. Instead, he reached across the table and took your hand, bringing it to his lips. The press of his mouth against your knuckles made your breath catch.

"Good," he said against your skin. "Let's give her something to see."

"Jungkook—"

"Trust me." His thumb stroked across your palm as he lowered your joined hands to the table. "Just follow my lead."

The waiter appeared with wine, and Jungkook ordered for both of you without consulting the menu – somehow knowing exactly what you'd like. The casual assumption should have annoyed you, but instead it felt intimate, like he'd been paying attention to details about you that you hadn't even shared.

"How did you know I like salmon?" you asked after the waiter left.

"I told you – I pay attention." His fingers traced patterns on the back of your hand. "You ordered it at the campus café last week."

"You were watching me at the café?"

"I notice beautiful women." His voice dropped lower. "Especially ones who don't notice me back."

"I noticed you," you admitted before you could stop yourself. "Everyone notices you."

"But you never approached. Never flirted." His grip tightened slightly. "Do you know how intriguing that was?"

"I'm not playing hard to get, if that's what you think. We just... move in different circles."

"Maybe I like your circle better." He lifted your hand again, this time pressing a kiss to your wrist where your pulse was hammering. "Maybe I'm tired of shallow conversations and women who only want my wallet or my reputation."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tight. "Jungkook..."

"I know this started as pretense," he continued, his dark eyes boring into yours. "But I want you to know – there's nothing fake about the way you make me feel."

Your heart stuttered. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't make this real. Don't make me believe—"

"That I want you?" He leaned forward, close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his eyes. "Because I do. Have since the first time I saw you in Professor Kim's class, arguing about ethical research practices."

"That was months ago."

"Exactly." His thumb brushed across your wrist again. "Months of watching you, wanting to approach but knowing someone like you wouldn't be interested in someone like me."

You stared at him. "Someone like you? You're Jeon Jungkook. You could have anyone."

"But I want you." The words were simple, direct, and they made your entire body flush with heat. "And not because you're convenient or because you agreed to this arrangement. I want you because you challenge me, because you're brilliant and beautiful and real in a way that's fucking addictive."

The raw honesty in his voice made it hard to breathe. Around you, the restaurant continued its quiet bustle, but it felt like you existed in a bubble with just him and the intensity of his gaze.

"The food," you whispered weakly as the waiter approached with your plates.

"Right." Jungkook sat back slightly, but his hand remained linked with yours. "Wouldn't want to waste good salmon."

Dinner passed in a haze of stolen glances and casual touches that felt anything but casual. Jungkook kept finding excuses to brush his fingers against yours, to lean close enough that his cologne filled your senses, to look at you with such focused attention that you felt like the only person in the room.

When you excused yourself to the restroom, you weren't entirely surprised to find Seoyeon waiting by the sinks.

"So," she said without preamble, "how long have you been throwing yourself at my boyfriend?"

"Ex-boyfriend," you corrected, moving to wash your hands. "And I didn't throw myself anywhere."

"Please. You think I don't see what this is?" Her laugh was sharp. "Some nobody trying to social climb by latching onto Jungkook."

You turned to face her, anger flaring. "You know what I think? I think you can't handle that he moved on."

"Moved on?" Seoyeon stepped closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. "Honey, he's using you to make me jealous. Once I take him back, you'll be forgotten."

Her words hit exactly where you were most vulnerable, but you refused to let it show. "If you're so confident, why are you in here threatening me instead of out there winning him back?"

For a moment, her perfect composure cracked, revealing something ugly underneath. Then she smiled, cold and sharp.

"Because I don't need to threaten you, sweetheart. Reality will do that for me."

She swept out, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the uncomfortable feeling that she might be right.

When you returned to the table, Jungkook took one look at your face and his expression darkened. "What did she say to you?"

"Nothing important." You forced a smile. "Ready to go?"

"Y/N." His voice carried a warning. "What did she say?"

"Just... she thinks you're using me to make her jealous." The words tumbled out despite your best efforts to keep them in.

Jungkook was quiet for a long moment, his jaw working like he was choosing his words carefully. Finally, he signaled for the check and stood.

"Let's get out of here."

The drive to your dorm was tense and silent. When he pulled up outside your building, you reached for the door handle.

"Wait." His hand caught your wrist. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you turned to face him.

"Seoyeon is bitter and jealous, and she wants to hurt you because she knows..." He paused, running his free hand through his hair. "Because she knows I never looked at her the way I look at you."

"Jungkook—"

"I'm not using you." His grip tightened slightly. "This arrangement might have started as convenience, but that's not what this is anymore. Not for me."

The intensity in his voice made your chest ache. "What are you saying?"

Instead of answering with words, he leaned across the center console and cupped your face in his hands. "I'm saying," he murmured, his thumb tracing your lower lip, "that fake was never going to be enough."

And then he was kissing you.

The press of his lips was soft at first, questioning, but when you responded – when you couldn't help but respond – he deepened it. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that made your toes curl, one hand tangling in your hair while the other pressed against the small of your back, pulling you as close as the car's confines would allow.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against yours.

"Still think this is fake?" he whispered.

You couldn't find words, could only shake your head slightly.

"Good." His smile was soft, genuine. "Because I'm planning to spend the next month proving to you just how real this is."

## Chapter 4: Complications

The next few days passed in a blur of heated glances across lecture halls and casual touches that left you burning. Jungkook seemed determined to blur the lines between fake and real at every opportunity – walking you to classes with his arm around your waist, stealing kisses between buildings, looking at you with such open want that you could barely concentrate on anything else.

was working, both on campus gossips and on you. Which was exactly the problem.

"You're glowing," your roommate Mina observed as you got ready for another "date" with Jungkook. "Fake boyfriend is really working out for you."

"It's not fake anymore," you admitted, then immediately regretted it when Mina's eyes went wide.

"What do you mean it's not fake?"

"I mean..." You sank onto your bed, dress half-zipped. "I think I'm falling for him. Actually falling, not just pretending."

"Isn't that good? He's gorgeous, rich, and clearly into you."

"He's also dealing with a psycho ex who's making my life hell, and this whole thing has an expiration date." You buried your face in your hands. "I'm setting myself up for heartbreak."

"Or," Mina said gently, "you're setting yourself up for happiness. Did you consider that maybe he's falling too?"

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed with a text from Jungkook: *Outside. And sweetheart? Wear something that shows off your legs. I have plans for tonight.*

Heat flooded your cheeks at the message, and Mina leaned over to read it, cackling.

"Oh yeah, he's totally not into you at all."

Twenty minutes later, you were sliding into Jungkook's car wearing a short burgundy dress that made his eyes go dark with want.

"Fuck," he breathed, his gaze traveling slowly up your legs. "You're trying to kill me."

"You requested something that showed off my legs," you reminded him, trying to ignore the way his appreciation made you feel powerful.

"I did." His hand settled on your thigh, thumb tracing small circles against your skin. "Doesn't mean I'm prepared for how gorgeous you look."

The drive to wherever he was taking you was torture, his hand remaining on your thigh, occasionally squeezing or stroking in ways that made concentration impossible.

"Where are we going?" you managed.

"Patience, sweetheart." His smile was wicked. "Though I will say, it involves dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Mmm. Close dancing." His thumb pressed into the sensitive spot just above your knee. "The kind where I get to hold you against me all night."

Your breath caught. "Jungkook..."

"What?" His voice was innocence itself, but his hand slid slightly higher. "Just letting you know what to expect."

The club he took you to was upscale, all velvet and low lighting, with a dance floor that pulsed with bass-heavy music. It was also, you realized quickly, exactly the kind of place Seoyeon and her friends would frequent.

"She's here, isn't she?" you asked as he led you through the crowd.

"Probably." His arm tightened around your waist. "Does it matter?"

Before you could answer, he was pulling you onto the dance floor, his body moving against yours with a fluid grace that made your mouth go dry. One song blended into another, and somewhere between the second and third, you stopped caring about anything except the way he touched you.

His hands roamed your body – respectful but possessive, fingers tracing your spine, gripping your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space between you. When you turned in his arms, pressing your back to his chest, his sharp intake of breath made you feel drunk with power.

"Careful, sweetheart," he murmured in your ear, his voice rough. "Keep moving like that and I'm going to forget we're in public."

The threat – promise? – made heat pool low in your belly. You rolled your hips deliberately, and his grip tightened.

"Y/N." Your name was a warning growl against your neck.

"What?" You tilted your head back to look at him, noting the dark desire in his eyes. "Just dancing."

"The hell you are." His lips brushed your ear. "You're playing with fire."

"Maybe I like the heat."

Something shifted in his expression – surprise giving way to hunger so intense it made your knees weak.

"In that case," he said, spinning you to face him, "let's give them a real show."

The kiss he pulled you into was nothing like the sweet one in his car. This was claiming, possessive, his mouth moving against yours with a desperation that made the club around you fade away. His hands fisted in your hair, angling your head for better access, and you could feel the hard length of him pressed against your stomach.

When you broke apart, both breathing hard, the song had changed and several people were staring. Including, you noticed with a start, Seoyeon, who looked like she wanted to commit murder.

"She looks upset," you whispered against his lips.

"Good." His smile was sharp, satisfied. "Let her see what she lost."

But as he led you off the dance floor, you caught the calculation in Seoyeon's expression and felt a chill of unease. This wasn't over.

The feeling proved prophetic when your phone rang the next morning, an unknown number that made your stomach drop.

"Y/N L/N?" The voice was professionally cold.

"Yes?"

"This is Dean Morrison's office. You're needed for a meeting this morning regarding some concerns about your scholarship."

Your blood turned to ice. "Concerns? What kind of concerns?"

"That will be discussed in the meeting. Ten AM sharp."

The line went dead, leaving you staring at your phone with a growing sense of dread.

An hour later, you sat across from Dean Morrison, your hands clenched in your lap as he reviewed a file that seemed uncomfortably thick.

"Miss L/N," he began, his tone grave, "we've received some troubling information about your recent... associations."

"My associations?"

"Your relationship with Mr. Jeon Jungkook." He leaned back in his chair. "We've been made aware that this relationship may be compromising your academic integrity."

Your heart stopped. "I don't understand."

"Someone has alleged that Mr. Jeon is providing you with improper assistance – paying for tutoring services that give you an unfair advantage, potentially even completing assignments for you."

"That's not true." The words came out strangled. "I've never accepted academic help from Jungkook. I wouldn't."

"The source was quite detailed in their allegations." Dean Morrison's expression was sympathetic but firm. "Including specifics about payments and meetings."

Seoyeon. It had to be. But how could she have known about the volunteer hours arrangement?

"Sir, I can provide all my work, show you drafts, prove that everything I've submitted is my own—"

"I certainly hope so, Miss L/N. Because if these allegations prove true, it would mean immediate suspension and loss of your scholarship." He closed the file. "You have one week to provide documentation proving your academic integrity. Until then, consider this an official warning."

Walking out of that office felt like walking through a nightmare. Your scholarship – your entire future – was being threatened because of a bitter ex-girlfriend's jealousy.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Jungkook: *Good morning, beautiful. Can't wait to see you later.*

For the first time since this whole arrangement started, you didn't text back.

## Chapter 5: Unraveling

You managed to avoid Jungkook for exactly six hours before he showed up at your dorm room door, concern etched across his features.

"You've been ignoring my texts," he said without preamble when Mina let him in. "What's wrong?"

Mina took one look at both of you and grabbed her jacket. "I'm going to... anywhere else. Work this out."

Once she was gone, you turned to face him, your heart breaking a little at the genuine worry in his eyes.

"We need to end this," you said quietly.

"End what?" But his expression was already shutting down, walls going up.

"The fake dating. The arrangement. All of it."

"Why?" He stepped closer, and you had to resist the urge to move toward him. "Last night was... Y/N, last night was incredible."

"Last night was a mistake." The lie tasted bitter. "This whole thing was a mistake."

"That's bullshit and you know it." His voice was sharper now. "What happened? What changed between last night and this morning?"

You wanted to tell him. Wanted to explain about the meeting, about Seoyeon's sabotage, about how your entire future was hanging in the balance. But that would mean admitting you needed his help, and you couldn't – wouldn't – be another person using him for what he could provide.

"Nothing changed. That's the problem." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "This was always supposed to be temporary, and I'm starting to... forget that."

"So don't forget it." He reached for you, but you stepped back. "Make it real instead."

"Real?" You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Jungkook, we're from different worlds. You're campus royalty with a trust fund, and I'm here on scholarship, working three part-time jobs just to afford textbooks. This was never going to work long-term."

"You think I care about money?" His voice was incredulous. "You think that matters to me?"

"Maybe not now, but it will. When your friends start asking what you see in the charity case, when your family starts questioning—"

"Stop." The command was sharp enough to cut through your spiraling thoughts. "Just stop. You're making excuses."

"I'm being realistic."

"You're being scared." He moved closer, and this time you didn't retreat. "Something happened. Something spooked you, and instead of trusting me enough to tell me what it is, you're burning this down."

His insight was too close to the truth, and you lashed out defensively. "Maybe I just realized that slumming it with the scholarship girl was getting old."

The words hit their mark – you saw it in the way he flinched, the way his expression went carefully blank.

"If that's really what you think of me," he said quietly, "then maybe you're right. Maybe this was a mistake."

He turned toward the door, and panic clawed at your chest. This was what you wanted, what you needed, but watching him walk away felt like dying.

"Jungkook, wait—"

He paused, hand on the doorknob, but didn't turn around.

"For what it's worth," he said, his voice carefully controlled, "you were never slumming it. You were the best thing that happened to me in a long time."

And then he was gone, leaving you alone with the wreckage of what could have been.

## Chapter 6: The Truth Comes Out

The next few days were agony. You threw yourself into proving your academic integrity, gathering every piece of documentation you could find while trying to ignore the whispers that followed you across campus. Word had gotten out about your meeting with the dean, and speculation ran wild.

Jungkook, true to form, seemed completely unaffected. You caught glimpses of him around campus – laughing with his friends, charming professors, being his usual golden self. If your brief fake relationship had impacted him at all, he hid it well.

It was Mina who finally confronted you on Thursday evening, finding you hunched over your laptop in your room, surrounded by printed emails and assignment drafts.

"Okay, enough," she said, shutting your laptop despite your protests. "You're going to tell me what really happened with Jungkook."

"Nothing happened. We ended the arrangement, that's all."

"Bullshit. You've been miserable for four days, and he's been..." She paused. "Actually, he's been miserable too, he's just better at hiding it."

You looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I've seen him around campus. The smile never reaches his eyes anymore, and yesterday I caught him staring at the psychology building like it had personally offended him." Mina sat on your bed. "So what really happened?"

The whole story came tumbling out – the dean's meeting, Seoyeon's allegations, your terror at losing your scholarship. By the time you finished, Mina was shaking her head.

You idiot," she said, not unkindly. "You should have told him."

"I couldn't. It would look like I was using him, asking him to fix it—"

"Or it would look like you trusted him enough to be honest." Mina stood up. "You're going to lose him over pride."

"I already lost him."

"Maybe. Or maybe you can still fix this." She headed for the door. "But first, you need to handle Seoyeon."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she's been bragging to anyone who'll listen about how she's going to get Jungkook back now that 'the nobody' is out of the picture." Mina's smile was sharp. "Time to remind her that you're not as helpless as she thinks."

That evening, you found Seoyeon at her usual table in the upscale café near the business building, holding court with her usual crew of followers. Taking a deep breath, you approached their table.

"Seoyeon. We need to talk."

She looked up with a saccharine smile. "Oh, it's you. Come to apologize for overreaching?"

"Something like that." You pulled out your phone and hit record. "I wanted to thank you, actually. For the creative allegations you made to the dean's office."

Her smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? Because I have the timestamps from when you accessed the campus volunteer database – you know, the one your daddy's donation got you administrative access to?" You were bluffing, but her face went pale. "Amazing how detailed your allegations were, considering you somehow knew about arrangements I made with Jungkook that we never discussed in public."

"That's not—"

"Not what? Not illegal? Not grounds for your own disciplinary action?" You leaned closer. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to call the dean's office tomorrow morning and retract your allegations. You're going to admit you made them up out of jealousy and spite."

"And if I don't?" But her voice was shaking now.

"Then I take this recording, along with the evidence of your unauthorized database access, to the administration. Daddy's money might protect you from a lot of things, but academic misconduct and filing false allegations? That's a different story."

You straightened up, surprised by your own boldness. "Oh, and Seoyeon? Stay away from me. Stay away from Jungkook. Find a new hobby that doesn't involve ruining other people's lives."

Walking away from that table felt like the first full breath you'd taken in days.

## Chapter 7: Grand Gestures

The call from Dean Morrison came Friday morning – your allegations had been withdrawn, your scholarship was secure, and there would be no further investigation. You should have felt relieved. Instead, all you could think about was how you'd pushed away the one person who'd made you feel truly seen.

"You need to find him," Mina said when you told her about the dean's call. "Tell him the truth."

"It's too late. You saw how he looked at me when I said those horrible things."

"Because he was hurt, not because he stopped caring." She grabbed your jacket from the closet. "Go. Before you lose your nerve again."

But when you got to Jungkook's apartment, he wasn't there. His roommate Taehyung answered the door instead, his expression cooling when he saw you.

"He's not here," he said curtly.

"Do you know where—"

"Look, I don't know what game you're playing, but Jungkook's been miserable since you dumped him." Taehyung's voice was protective, angry. "So if you're just here to mess with his head some more—"

"I'm here to apologize," you interrupted. "And to tell him the truth about why I ended things."

Taehyung studied you for a long moment, then sighed. "He's at the gym. The one off Fifth Street. But Y/N?" His expression softened slightly. "He really cares about you. Don't hurt him again."

The gym was nearly empty when you arrived, just a few dedicated Friday evening workout warriors. You found Jungkook in the back, attacking a punching bag with a violence that made you wince. He was shirtless, sweat gleaming on the defined muscles of his back and shoulders, and even in your emotional state you couldn't help but be momentarily distracted by the sight.

He must have sensed your presence because he stopped mid-punch, his shoulders tensing.

"What are you doing here, Y/N?"

The exhaustion in his voice broke your heart.

"I came to apologize. And to explain."

"There's nothing to explain." He turned around, and the carefully blank expression on his face was worse than anger would have been. "You made yourself clear."

"No, I didn't. I lied." You stepped closer, noting how he tensed. "I lied because I was scared and proud and stupid."

"Scared of what?"

The whole story tumbled out – Seoyeon's sabotage, the threat to your scholarship, your terror at losing everything you'd worked for. With each word, you watched his expression shift from blank indifference to growing anger.

"She went after your scholarship?" His voice was deadly quiet.

"It's handled now. I confronted her, and she retracted the allegations."

"You confronted her alone?" He stepped closer, his hands clenching into fists. "Jesus, Y/N, she could have made things worse—"

"I know. But I couldn't ask you to fix it. I couldn't be another person using you for what you could provide."

"Using me?" His laugh was harsh. "You think that's what this was about? You think I gave a damn about helping with your career?"

"Didn't you? The volunteer hours, the—"

"Were an excuse." He moved closer, close enough that you could see the gold flecks in his dark eyes. "An excuse to spend time with you, to have a reason for you to say yes. I would have helped you regardless, with no strings attached, because that's what you do for people you care about."

The raw honesty in his voice made your chest tight. "Jungkook..."

"Do you have any idea what it felt like when you said I was slumming it with you?" His voice broke slightly. "When you reduced everything we had to some kind of social experiment?"

"I didn't mean it. I was scared and I lashed out—"

"I know." His hand came up to cup your face, thumb brushing away tears you didn't realize had fallen. "I know you were scared. But Y/N, you should have trusted me. You should have known I would move heaven and earth to protect you."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"I know." He leaned his forehead against yours. "But sweetheart, I can't do this if you're going to run every time things get complicated. I can't keep wondering when you're going to decide I'm not worth the trouble."

"You are worth it," you said fiercely. "You're worth everything. I was just too stupid and scared to see it."

"Yeah?" His smile was tentative, hopeful. "Because I meant what I said before – fake was never going to be enough. Not with you."

Instead of answering with words, you rose on your toes and kissed him, pouring every apology and confession and desperate hope into the press of your lips against his. He responded immediately, his arms coming around you like he was afraid you might disappear again.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his eyes were soft with something that looked like love.

"Take me home," you whispered against his lips.

His sharp intake of breath made heat pool in your stomach. "Y/N... are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything." You looked up at him, letting him see the want in your eyes. "I don't want to fake anything anymore. I want real. I want you."

The drive back to his apartment was charged with tension, his hand resting possessively on your thigh while yours traced patterns on his forearm. Every red light felt like torture, every casual touch like a promise of what was coming.

"We're going to do this right," he said as he unlocked his door, his voice rough with desire. "Slow and real and—"

You silenced him by pushing him against the closed door and kissing him with all the pent-up want of the past week. His groan vibrated against your lips as his hands fisted in your hair.

"Fuck slow," you breathed against his mouth. "I need you. Now."

"Jesus, Y/N." His hands gripped your waist, lifting you until your legs wrapped around him. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Good," you murmured, nipping at his lower lip. "Take me down with you."

## Chapter 8: Real

The first touch of his bare skin against yours felt like coming home and catching fire at the same time. Every kiss, every caress carried the weight of suppressed longing and new honesty between you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your throat, his lips tracing a path that made you arch beneath him. "So fucking perfect."

His hands mapped every inch of you like he was memorizing the geography of your body, and when he looked at you – really looked at you, with such focused intensity – you felt more seen than you ever had in your life.

"I wanted this," you confessed as his mouth found that spot behind your ear that made you gasp. "Even when I was pretending it was fake, I wanted this."

"Good," he growled against your skin. "Because I plan to make you forget every reason you thought we couldn't work."

And he did, with patient hands and reverent kisses, with whispered words of praise and desire that made you feel like the only woman in the world. When he finally joined with you, moving with a careful passion that stole your breath, you understood the difference between attraction and connection, between want and need.

This was real. This was right. This was everything you hadn't known you were looking for.

Afterwards, wrapped in his arms with your head on his chest, you felt the last of your walls crumble.

"I love you," you whispered into the darkness, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

His arms tightened around you. "Say it again."

"I love you," you repeated, stronger this time. "I love you, and I'm sorry it took me so long to be brave enough to say it."

"I love you too," he murmured against your hair. "Have for weeks. Maybe longer."

"Even when I was being impossible?"

"Especially then." His laugh rumbled in his chest. "Though I prefer you like this – honest and naked in my bed."

Heat flooded your cheeks. "Jungkook..."

"What? I'm just appreciating the view." His hand traced lazy patterns on your bare shoulder. "And planning all the ways I'm going to worship this body tomorrow morning."

The promise in his voice made your toes curl. "Just tomorrow morning?"

"Sweetheart," he said, rolling you beneath him with a look that was pure sin, "I'm planning to worship you for the rest of our lives."

## Chapter 9: After

Three months later, you were studying in the library when strong arms wrapped around you from behind, and familiar lips pressed a kiss to your neck.

"How's my brilliant girlfriend doing?" Jungkook murmured against your ear.

"Better now." You leaned back against his chest, smiling as other students shot you envious looks. The novelty of being Jungkook's girlfriend – his real girlfriend – hadn't worn off yet.

"Good, because I have plans for you tonight."

"What kind of plans?"

"The kind that involve that little black dress I love and dinner at Romano's."

Romano's was the restaurant where you'd had your first fake date, where he'd first kissed your hand and made you believe in the possibility of something real.

"Sentimental much?" you teased.

"Maybe." His arms tightened around you. "Or maybe I just like taking my girlfriend to places where I can show her off."

"Your girlfriend," you repeated, still loving the sound of it.

"Mmm. My girlfriend who's brilliant and beautiful and mine." His voice dropped to that register that never failed to make you shiver. "Speaking of which, how much longer do you need to study?"

"Why?"

"Because I've been thinking about last night all day, and I have some ideas for this afternoon that require privacy."

Heat pooled in your stomach at the promise in his voice. "Twenty more minutes?"

"Ten." His teeth grazed your earlobe. "I'm feeling impatient."

"Jungkook, people are staring—"

"Let them stare." He turned your chair around so you were facing him, his hands bracing on the armrests. "Let them see how crazy I am about you."

The intensity in his dark eyes still took your breath away, even after months of being the sole focus of that attention.

"Have I mentioned lately that I love you?" you whispered.

"Only about a dozen times today." His smile was soft, genuine. "But I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing it."

"Good, because I plan to keep saying it for a very long time."

"How long?" He leaned closer, until his lips were barely an inch from yours.

"Try forever."

"I like the sound of that." He closed the distance between you, kissing you with a tenderness that made your heart race. When he pulled back, his eyes held promises of a future you were finally brave enough to want.

"Forever it is, sweetheart. Forever it is."

## Epilogue: Six Months Later

The campus coffee shop buzzed with its usual energy, but this time you barely noticed because you were too busy laughing at something Jungkook had just whispered in your ear.

"That's terrible," you said, swatting at his arm. "You can't say things like that in public."

"Why not? It's true." His grin was unrepentant. "Besides, I like making you blush."

"You like making me a lot of things," you muttered, which only made his grin wider.

"Is that a complaint?"

Before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the coffee shop chatter.

"Jungkook?"

You both turned to see Seoyeon approaching your table, looking significantly less polished than usual. Her designer clothes were wrinkled, her makeup smudged, and there was something desperate in her eyes.

"Seoyeon." Jungkook's voice was carefully neutral, but his hand found yours under the table, fingers intertwining protectively.

"I... I wanted to apologize," she said, not quite meeting either of your eyes. "For everything. The lies, the sabotage... I was angry and hurt and I handled it badly."

Yes, you did," you said quietly. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

"I know you probably can't forgive me, but I wanted you to know that I'm... I'm getting help. Therapy. Trying to figure out why I..." She trailed off, looking lost.

"Good," Jungkook said simply. "Everyone deserves to be happy, Seoyeon. Even you."

She nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. "You two... you're good together. Really good. I can see why..." She took a shaky breath. "I hope you're happy."

"We are," you said, and meant it.

After she left, you and Jungkook sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

"That was unexpected," you said finally.

"People can change." He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Look at us."

"What do you mean?"

"Six months ago, you thought I was an arrogant playboy, and I thought you were completely unattainable." His smile was warm, full of love. "Now look where we are."

You looked around the coffee shop – the same place where this whole crazy journey had started with a fake proposition and desperate circumstances. Now it was just another spot where you and the man you loved could steal quiet moments together.

"Now look where we are," you agreed softly.

"Any regrets?" he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

You thought about everything that had brought you to this moment – the fake dating arrangement, the complications, the misunderstandings and reconciliations. All of it had led you here, to real love with a man who saw you completely and loved you anyway.

"Not a single one," you said, leaning across the table to kiss him softly. "Best fake relationship I ever had."

His laugh was rich and warm against your lips. "Here's to making it real, sweetheart. Forever real."

And as he kissed you again, surrounded by the chatter and warmth of the coffee shop where your story began, you couldn't imagine anywhere else you'd rather be.

**The End**