For years, Jungkook ruled his corner of the fourth floor like a king. His neighbors avoided him; his late-night music, certain midnight activities, sharp words, and aloof demeanor made it clear he wanted nothing to do with them.

That was until you moved in. You were everything he wasn’t: fiery, talkative, and utterly unafraid to speak your mind. Days after you settled in, he turned up his playlist, a deep, rhythmic bass that filled not just his apartment but the entire floor. Thinking it was a one-time thing, you let it slide.

But it didn’t stop. Every day, every night loud music, late-night intimate activities where he didn't bother to conceal certain private sounds. You snapped. At 6:30 in the morning, your dreams shattered under the weight of pounding bass. The obnoxiously loud EDM track was paired with the metallic clang of weights hitting the floor.

Moments later, you found yourself banging on his door. Jungkook answered after a few beats, dressed in nothing but athletic shorts and a sheen of sweat. His toned arms and muscular chest glistened in the morning light, his damp hair falling slightly over his forehead.

“Can I help you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. His breathing was labored from the workout, and he wiped his hands with a small towel. “It’s my morning routine. Helps me focus.”

His gaze didn’t waver as you answered, “Strange, I don’t remember agreeing to adjust my schedule for your routine or anyone else's.” His grin faltered, replaced by a steely expression. “If you have a problem, invest in earplugs,” he said coolly, crossing his arms.

“You don’t like it? Move.” His voice was sharp, cold. “This is my home. If you can’t handle it, find another place to live.” His dark eyes locked onto yours, his chest rising and falling from the intensity of his workout.