17

Jeon Jungkook had many secrets..... and if anything , Y/n knew this for sure.

She herself, as a matter of fact, was one of his Sinful Secrets.

ONE of his Sinful Secrets... (To imply that there were many secrets that Jungkook had in his bed.)

And if one thinks that the list of his Sinful Secrets begin and end with girls only, they are naive to think so.

They are so grossly, utterly, terribly wrong.

Jeon Jungkook didn't just have secrets.

Jungkook's secrets also had secrets.

And here Y/n was looking at another one of his Sinful creations - a creation made under his nose, by his company - the Pheonix MK - VI.

Jungkook's most devastating, most sinful secret.

A secret for which, let alone Y/n, the whole humanity won't forgive him if it were to go in wrong hands.

Y/n slammed her laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the opulent silence of her room. The plush carpet offered no comfort as she paced, her frustration mounting with every restless step.

The data on the Phoenix MK-VI weapon was a monstrous revelation, a technological nightmare that promised unimaginable destruction. Yet, the sheer scale of its power wasn't what gnawed at her.

It was the location.

The data transfer had been clear – the weapon wasn't in faraway South Korea as she'd initially assumed. No, the Phoenix was here, within a two-kilometer radius of the very mansion that housed her.

Here, in Russia.

How could this be?

Everything she knew, everything Jungkook had hinted at, pointed to the project being contained in a secure South Korean facility.

This was a blatant contradiction, a glaring lie woven into the very fabric of the Phoenix project.

She couldn't stay still any longer. Every second the weapon remained hidden, undetected, was a ticking time bomb.

Y/n needed answers, and she needed them now. With a determined set of her jaw, she marched out of her room, purpose fueling her steps.

Jungkook's door loomed at the end of the hallway, a barrier to the truth she desperately craved.

Y/n's hand hovered in mid-air, the knock unfulfilled. A sliver of sound had leaked from beneath the door, a snippet of conversation that sent a jolt through her. Curiosity, sharp and unwelcome, warred with a newfound unease. Hesitantly, she peeked through the crack, the sight unfolding before her sending a fresh wave of confusion crashing down.

Jungkook was on a video call, his face etched with a tense frustration she hadn't seen before. The other man, his features obscured by the angle, was clearly agitated. 

"Medication isn't the only option, man. Also, I'm not feeling suicidal right now so you and your therapy can go fuck off," Jungkook was saying, his voice taut with defiance. 

"And for your information, Jimin's call didn't affect me in the slightest."

A curse word, laced with venom, erupted from the screen. "That damn leech! He knows exactly how to push your buttons, doesn't he?"

Jungkook's jaw clenched, but a flicker of something akin to protectiveness crossed his features.

"He may have hated me in the past but he doesn't now." he stated firmly. "And frankly, the only one who gets to hate Jimin is me. So you better watch your tone before you speak of him Mr. Therapist."

The man on the screen sputtered, then sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine. I won't pry. But you know you can't keep bottling things up, Jungkook. Sooner or later…" His voice trailed off, a worried frown creasing his brow.

With a final shake of his head, the man ended the call, leaving Jungkook alone in the room, his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

Y/n's heart hammered against her ribs.

What had she just witnessed?

"Suicidal?", the word echoed in her mind, a chilling echo of Jungkook's earlier statement.

What did he mean by suicidal? 

The panic attack, the choked sobs – was there a deeper, darker reason behind it all? 

A million questions swirled in her head, each one a shard of confusion tearing at the fragile understanding she thought they had.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

In the center of the plush king-size bed lay a giant, heaving lump – the unmistakable outline of Jungkook under the duvet.

A groan erupted from beneath the covers, muffled and irritated. "Catherine? I told you, I don't want to be disturbed!"

Y/n's stomach clenched.

Catherine?

Ofcourse he'd expect her. She's his fiance after all.

"Jungkook, it's Y/n," she stated, her voice sharper this time.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Then, a muffled mumble, barely audible. "Can you go away for now Y/n? I'm not in the mood for company."

The silence that followed Y/n's words stretched longer than a runway, punctuated only by the occasional muffled sniffle (or was that a snort?) from beneath the duvet.

Frustration bubbled up in her chest. This wasn't a game of hide-and-seek, and burying his head in the sand wouldn't solve anything.

"Jungkook," she started, her voice tight, "This is serious.  If you don't come out and talk to me like an adult, I'm going to count to three and…"

She didn't get to finish the threat because a flurry of activity erupted beneath the giant white mound. 

Y/n watched, a bewildered frown knitting her brow, as the duvet rippled and rustled in a series of frantic movements. 

Finally, after a tense minute, it seemed Jungkook had achieved his goal.

A muffled voice, laced with a hint of childish defiance, emerged.  "Try it now, Miss Bossy. See if you can break through Fortress Duvet."

Y/n stared, speechless for a moment.  Then, a laugh bubbled up from her chest, chasing away the frustration. She couldn't help it. The image of Jungkook barricading himself beneath the duvet, like a child throwing a tantrum, was utterly ridiculous.

"Fortress Duvet, huh?" she chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

"That's not very creative, you know."

From the muffled shape, another disgruntled mumble.  "Easy for you to say. Come in here and see how easy it is to be creative when you're feeling like a mess."

Y/n considered this for a moment, a playful idea forming in her mind.  Taking a deep breath, she announced with mock seriousness, "Alright, Fortress Duvet.  You leave me no choice.  Prepare to be breached!"

Before Jungkook could react, she lunged for the edge of the duvet, a playful battle cry escaping her lips. 

Their ensuing tug-of-war was clumsy and breathless, a far cry from the image of the sleek, sophisticated world Y/n had become accustomed to.

But amidst the laughter and the tussling, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest.

Suddenly, the edge of the duvet slipped from her grasp, sending her tumbling forward.  A startled squeak escaped her lips as she landed… not on the cool sheets, but on a surprisingly warm, solid surface. 

A disoriented blink revealed her predicament – she was sprawled on top of Jungkook, who lay nestled within the confines of his self-made fortress, his face buried in the soft white fabric.

The air crackled with an electrical tension that had nothing to do with the threat of a weapon.  Both of them froze, heat flooding their cheeks.

Y/n found herself drawn to Jungkook's eyes, the dark pools shimmering with a vulnerability she hadn't seen before. There was a depth to them, a story waiting to be told.

His gaze met hers, and for a moment, he seemed to be searching her eyes, seeking solace, understanding. Y/n found herself leaning in, the space between them shrinking with every passing second.

The air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the looming weapon.

Suddenly, a muffled whine broke the spell.  Y/n blinked, the image of his eyes replaced by a peek-a-boo of dark hair protruding from beneath the duvet.

The duvet, that is, which Jungkook had inexplicably lifted to cover his face.

"Y/n, no" he mumbled, his voice muffled and distorted by the fabric, "Is it okay if I don't talk for a while? I had garlic chicken for lunch, and…"

He trailed off, leaving the unspoken implication hanging in the air.  Y/n flushed crimson, the tender moment shattered by a whiff of garlic chicken and self-consciousness.

"Oh my god," she groaned, dropping her head into her hands.  "Seriously, Jungkook?"

"Seriously!" he whined back, the duvet rustling indignantly.  "I don't want to scare you away with my garlic breath!"

Y/n sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement softening her voice.  "Just… get rid of the duvet, already. It's suffocating."

More rustling, and then a muffled, "But then you'll smell it!"

"Well, Mr. Sensitive," she teased, "if you're that worried about your breath, maybe you shouldn't have chosen garlic chicken for lunch."

He winced, a comical grimace twisting his features. "Hey, it smelled good at the time!" he protested, the duvet rustling as he settled back against the headboard.  "Besides, a warrior needs his strength, right?"

Y/n raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes.  "A warrior battling the forces of… garlic breath?"

Jungkook grinned, a genuine, unguarded smile that sent a flutter to her stomach. "Exactly," he said, his voice lighter than it had been all day.

She used the opportunity to glance towards the bedside table.  Jungkook's phone lay there, screen facing upwards.  A mischievous idea sparked in her mind. He was too distracted by their playful exchange to notice, and thankfully, the phone was unlocked.

The wallpaper, predictably, was another picture of her – a candid shot she didn't even remember him taking.

A blush heated her cheeks, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

"So, this warrior who fears garlic breath," she said, keeping her voice casual, "why did he hide under the covers for so long?"

He chuckled. "Because," he drawled, "being a warrior is exhausting.  Sometimes, a warrior just needs a little… fortress time."

Y/n feigned outrage.  "Fortress time?  That was the most pathetic attempt at a hideout I've ever seen!"

He swatted playfully at her with a pillow, the air crackling with a newfound ease. "Says the one who tried to storm it from the inside!"

As they continued their playful banter, Y/n reached out nonchantly and snagged his phone from the nightstand.

She quickly navigated to the call history and found the most recent contact – a name labeled simply "Jung Hoseok."

With a racing heart, she discreetly sent the number to her own phone number through text, then deleted the chat from Jungkook's phone.

"Alright, alright," she conceded with mock seriousness. "Fortress Duvet may have been a tactical failure, but your garlic breath is a formidable weapon."

He snorted, shaking his head.  "You're impossible, Y/n."

"And you're a walking contradiction," she countered, her gaze meeting his.  "A warrior afraid of garlic… a secretive boy with a soft spot for garlic chicken."

"Now will you please come out of your fortress duvet?"

More rustling, and then a muffled, "But then you'll smell it!"

"Jungkook," Y/n said firmly, "I can handle a little garlic breath.  Now either get rid of the blanket or open a window. This interrogation isn't going to conduct itself."

There was a long pause, filled with the rhythmic squeak of the mattress as Jungkook apparently wrestled with a silent internal battle. Finally, a defeated sigh escaped the duvet cocoon.

"Fine," he grumbled, the fabric finally lowering to reveal a sheepish face.  "But if you faint, it's on you."

Their playful banter was abruptly cut short by a sharp rap on the door. "Jungkook?" a voice called out, deep and vaguely familiar. "It's Robert. Can I come in?"

Jungkook's eyes widened in a split second of pure panic. This couldn't be happening. Robert, especially not now, not with Y/n here. Catherine was supposed to come in a few minutes and the last thing he needed was Robert catching him in a compromising position with Y/n.

Y/n, sensing the urgency in his gaze, followed his line of sight to the door.

"Hide!" Jungkook hissed, looking wildly around the room.

The air crackled with chaotic energy. Y/n scrambled off the bed, her mind racing. The space under the bed was out, too conspicuous. The bathroom? No time. Her eyes darted around the room and landed on the large, ornately carved wardrobe in the corner.

"Closet!" she mouthed urgently, already dashing towards it.

Jungkook, catching on, lunged for the door just as it creaked open.  "Hold on a second, Robert!" he called out, his voice a touch too strained. "Just… tidying up a bit."

He slammed the door shut with a barely there click, then turned towards the closet, his eyes pleading.  Y/n, without a word, dived in, pulling the heavy doors shut behind her.

The air inside was stale and smelled faintly of cedarwood. Clothes rustled as she pressed herself back into the corner, heart hammering against her ribs.

The muffled conversation outside was a jumble of hushed tones and nervous explanations.

"Just checking in, Jungkook," Robert's voice rumbled, laced with a concern that seemed genuine. "You looked a little… out of sorts during the call earlier."

An audible sigh escaped Jungkook, followed by a mumbled response. "Just a bit of a headache, Robert. Nothing serious."

"Headache, huh?" Robert's voice held a hint of skepticism. "Well, take it easy then. The wedding is just a few days away, and you wouldn't want to be looking anything less than your best for Catherine."

Y/n winced at the mention of Catherine. A dull ache settled in her stomach, a reminder of the precariousness of her position in this opulent cage.

"Right," Jungkook muttered, the tension evident in his voice. "The wedding. I, uh, I'll try to get some rest."

There was a beat of silence, then a sigh. "Alright then. But if anything's bothering you, Jungkook, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Thanks, Robert," Jungkook said, his voice softer now.  "I appreciate it."

The sound of retreating footsteps filled the silence. Y/n held her breath, waiting for the door to click shut. Finally, it did, and a moment later, the frantic rustling of clothes resumed.

The closet door creaked open, revealing a flustered Jungkook. Relief washed over Y/n, quickly replaced by a jolt of surprise.

Her eyes widened as they landed on the object she was holding – a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs, sporting two very distinct holes, one strategically placed in the front, the other… well, let's just say it was somewhat close to where his butthole would be

Jungkook's face contorted in horror. "Y/n! You shouldn't be…" His voice trailed off, replaced by a strangled groan as he snatched the underwear from her grasp.

Y/n couldn't help herself. A burst of laughter erupted from her lips, shattering the tense atmosphere. "Oh my god, Jungkook," she wheezed, tears welling up in her eyes. "Are these… your lucky boxers?"

Jungkook's cheeks burned a fiery crimson. "It's not what you think!" he stammered, shoving the offending garment deep into a drawer.

"Come on, spill it, Mr. Secret Agent!" she teased, poking him playfully in the chest.

Jungkook finally met her gaze, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright," he conceded, defeat lacing his voice. "You caught me. But before you judge, hear me out."

He cleared his throat, then launched into a hilariously convoluted explanation. "Look, I love spicy food, alright? I mean, I really love it. Like, mouth-on-fire, sweat-dripping-down-my-face love it."

Y/n nodded, stifling a giggle.  She had noticed a couple of his empty ramen containers in the trash.

"But," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "sometimes… sometimes, the aftereffects are… explosive." He winced, clearly remembering past battles.

Y/n's eyes widened in realization.  The holes in the underwear – it all made sense now.

"So," Jungkook continued, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "these… these are just a little… modification project I came up with. You know, for… better ventilation."

Y/n burst into another fit of laughter, tears streaming down her face.  "Ventilation? Jungkook, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Just simply say it's for your spicy farts to pass through!"

He scowled playfully, but the humor was evident in his eyes. "Hey, it works, alright? Don't knock it till you try it."

"Oh, Jungkook," she gasped, wiping her eyes. "You are unbelievable!"

He shrugged, a hint of defiance in his voice. "Look, desperate times call for desperate measures, okay?  Besides," he added, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "they're surprisingly comfortable. Like a built-in air conditioner for your…"

He trailed off, a blush creeping up his neck. Y/n couldn't help herself, she leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper.

"For your… what, Jungkook?"

He stammered, his face now the color of a ripe tomato. "N-nothing! Just forget it!"

Y/n threw her head back and laughed, the sound echoing in the small closet. 

Jungkook, cheeks still flaming red, extended a hand towards Y/n. "Alright, come on out, Miss Inquisitive.  But promise you won't tell a soul about the… ventilation system."

Y/n took his hand, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Your secret's safe with me, Mr. Spicy Buttocks."

He groaned, burying his face in his hand.  "Seriously? You couldn't come up with a more dignified nickname?"

"Dignified and spicy underwear don't exactly go hand in hand, do they, Kookie?" she teased, deliberately using the nickname that sent shivers down his spine.

He glared at her playfully. "Fine, fine. You win. But seriously, why did you even come to my room?"

"I came here to talk," she said, her voice firm. "About why you looked so troubled recently."

Jungkook's playful facade vanished, replaced by a guarded expression. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Y/n, I appreciate you looking out for me, but it's really not a big deal. Just some… family stuff."

"Family stuff?" Y/n's voice edged with skepticism. "Family stuff that makes you hide under the covers and avoid talking to anyone?"

He flinched at her words, the weight of his secret threatening to crush him. He knew he couldn't keep hiding things forever, but the consequences of sharing were terrifying.

"It's… complicated," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

Y/n watched a flicker of vulnerability flit across Jungkook's face before being masked by his usual guarded expression.  She knew pushing him wouldn't get her anywhere right now.  The secret, whatever it was, weighed heavily on him, and he needed time to decide if he could trust her enough to share it.

But that didn't mean she had to sit idly by.  A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes as she remembered the number she'd snagged from his phone  – Jung Hoseok.

"Alright," she conceded, feigning defeat. "Maybe you're right. Family stuff can be messy.  But hey, if you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me, right?"

Jungkook offered a hesitant smile. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, Y/n. I appreciate it."

She winked at him, a playful glint in her eyes. "No problem, Mr. Spicy Buttocks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I have a call to make."

Curiosity piqued on his face, Jungkook watched as Y/n sauntered out of his room, a secret smile playing on her lips. He had no idea who she could be calling, but a spark of unease ignited within him.  She was unpredictable, and that unpredictability both scared and excited him.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Y/n pulled out her phone and found the newly saved contact – Jung Hoseok.  Taking a deep breath, she hit the call button, her heart pounding in her chest.

But the enthusiasm quickly morphed into something far less welcoming. A robotic, pre-recorded message droned to life, the cheery tone replaced by a sterile monotone.

"Thank you for calling Hope Hospital.  It is currently past 11 pm and we are no longer accepting new psychiatric patients for the evening.  If you are experiencing a mental health crisis, please call 911 or proceed to your nearest emergency room.  For non-emergency appointments, please call back after 8 am tomorrow.  However, if your situation is urgent and requires immediate attention, you may leave a message after the beep.  A healthcare professional will return your call at their earliest convenience.  Thank you, and have a pleasant evening."

A robotic beep followed the announcement, leaving Y/n staring at her phone in disbelief. Jung Hoseok, a psychiatrist at Hope Hospital? 

The playful banter earlier with Jungkook suddenly seemed far too long ago. She sighed, maybe the so long banter caused her to miss the chance to speak to this guy.

---

[Next day]

The following morning, the memory of the unanswered call and the cryptic voicemail from Hope Hospital gnawed at Y/n.  Jungkook, however, seemed to have retreated back into his shell, his playful demeanor replaced by a guarded silence.  She decided to bide her time, hoping she'll talk to Jung Hoseok soon.

Meanwhile, her internship  required her to have another session with a weapon facility today.

Today's briefing was on a new prototype missile system, codenamed "Thunderbolt." As the lead engineer, a burly man named Dimitri, droned on about its destructive capabilities, Y/n diligently took notes, her face a mask of professionalism.

But her mind was racing, already dissecting the technical jargon and formulating a captivating narrative for her "internship report."

---

The wrought iron gates of the Silvia mansion clanged shut behind Y/n, the metallic shriek a jarring contrast to the quiet hum of exhaustion that filled her.

Inside, the opulent foyer was bathed in a soft, golden light. Robert Silvia, dressed in a crisp white suit, stood by the grand staircase, a concerned crease marring his normally jovial brow.

"Y/n! There you are," he boomed, his voice carrying across the spacious room. "How's the report coming along?"

Y/n managed a weak smile. "It's going well, Mr. Silvia. Just… a bit tiring."

Robert chuckled. "Those security briefings can be quite the doozy."

"Yes, Mr. Silvia.", she replied politely, hoping that if he doesn't have anything else to say, he'd allow her to go and rest.

"Oh, well, I think when you came all the way from Korea for your internship project, you probably didn't pack any party dresses."

"Catherine and Jungkook are in the boutique trying on wedding dress fitting," Robert continued, oblivious to Y/n's internal turmoil.

"The wedding's going to be spectacular. You should join them, pick out something for yourself too!"

A pang shot through Y/n's chest. Jungkook and Catherine. Their wedding was three days away.

Meaning, just 2 more days of Jungkook being an unmarried man.

A forced smile stretched across her face. "Thank you, Mr. Silvia. I… I think I'll head up to the boutique then."

With a small nod, Robert turned back to a waiting staff member, asking him to guide Y/n to the boutique.

[The boutique]

Luxurious fabrics shimmered under the soft lighting, but her eyes immediately scanned the room, searching. There, tucked away in a corner, Catherine was getting an intricate floral design painted on her nails.

Across from Catherine, Jungkook stood by a full-length mirror, clad in a pristine white tuxedo. He looked handsome, undeniably so, but there was a hollowness in his eyes that mirrored the emptiness she felt inside. It felt wrong, the sight of him in that suit, meant for someone else.

Suddenly, their eyes met, and a jolt of electricity seemed to crackle through the air. Jungkook looked caught off guard, a storm of emotions flickering across his face before settling into a hesitant smile.

Y/n, surprised at her own calmness, offered a small smile back. "Hey, Jungkook. Didn't expect to see you here."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Neither did I. Catherine's getting her nails done, and... well, I didn't know what else to do."

A beat of silence hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. Y/n opted for a safe topic. "The tuxedo looks good on you."

"Thanks," he mumbled, his eyes dropping to his shoes. "It feels... strange, though."

Y/n understood. Strange. Hollow. Wrong. Words danced on her tongue, but she held them back. He'd made his choice.

She pretended to browse the dresses, her fingers trailing along the soft silks and satins. But her focus was on him, on the way his brow furrowed in a deep frown, on the way he clenched his jaw.

Suddenly, a vibrant emerald dress caught his eye. It cascaded like a waterfall, the color as rich and captivating as Y/n's own eyes. It whispered of confidence and a fire that burned brightly within her.

Without a second thought, Jungkook grabbed the dress and headed towards Y/n. "Here," he said, his voice filled with a newfound certainty, "try this on."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden enthusiasm. "Emerald? That's not exactly my usual style."

He gave her a determined smile. "Trust me. This one's different."

Hesitantly, she took the dress and disappeared into a fitting room.

The door of the fitting room opened, revealing Y/n in the dress. Time seemed to freeze. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them and the vibrant emerald gown.

Jungkook's breath caught in his throat. She looked... stunning. Radiant. Like a warrior queen cloaked in emeralds.  A single tear escaped his eye as his voice broke. "Y/n, you..."

She cut him off with a playful smile, a hint of defiance sparkling in her eyes. "Surprised, huh? I kinda like it."

"Like it?" he choked out, wiping the tear away with a shaky hand. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

Y/n reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "Thank you, Jungkook," she whispered.

"I wish I could see it.", he whispered, knowing the impending doom of his life.

"You'll see me in it," she said softly, her voice laced with a hint of mystery.

He shook his head noddingly, hoping that he does.

Leaving the boutique with the emerald dress carefully bagged, the weight of unspoken emotions remained.

The ride back to the Silvia mansion was mostly quiet, the comfortable silence punctuated only by the occasional hum of the car.

Inside, the mansion buzzed with pre-wedding activity, but for the first time that day, Y/n felt a sense of detachment from it all. Reaching her room, she excused herself, the emerald dress clutched tightly in her hand.

Finally alone, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, a familiar name bringing a hesitant smile to her lips. Tapping the name, she pressed the call button, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

The phone rang, each unanswered beep stretching the tense silence in the hallway.  Just as Y/n was about to give up, a cheerful voice filled the phone.

"Hello? Jung Hoseok, this side. Who's this?".....A/n : Ready for the flashback drama?