Jungkook - One-Shots

Running away with the theif - J.Jk

The chandelier sparkled above the ballroom like a million tiny stars suspended in stillness. The guests—dripping in silk, arrogance, and champagne—moved like slow tides beneath it, oblivious to the storm brewing in their midst.

Jungkook adjusted his cufflinks and scanned the room through the reflection of his champagne glass. His earpiece crackled.
“Target is in. East entrance. Black gown, diamond pin. Alone.”
That was her. He didn’t need the update—he felt her presence before he saw her.
And then she appeared.
Y/N. Not the name on her fake ID, of course. She had so many aliases the agency started calling her "Ghost." But Jungkook knew her. Had studied her. Watched her leave high-profile events with priceless artifacts tucked in designer handbags and a smirk that made even the most seasoned security teams feel stupid.

And damn, she looked good tonight.
Hair swept up like she didn’t care how expensive she looked. Eyes that flickered with secrets. And that black gown… slit just high enough to be illegal in three countries.
She glided past him—pretending not to notice. But her fingers brushed his wrist as she reached for a flute of champagne. Deliberate.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, stepping beside her like any regular guest.
She turned, lips curving.
“Mm. The company just improved.”
Her voice was velvet. And sharp. A weapon sheathed in charm.
“Do I know you?” he asked, playing dumb.
She laughed, soft and dangerous.
“Oh, I hope not. I’d hate to think I was forgettable.” He raised an eyebrow.
“And yet, you’re exactly the kind of woman one remembers after a robbery.”
Her eyes flicked up. Just for a second.
He hit a nerve.

“You should be careful with accusations like that,” she said smoothly. “People might think you’re obsessed.” “I am,” Jungkook said before he could stop himself. She blinked.
One heartbeat. Two. Then she stepped closer.
“Well. If you’re gonna chase me… try to keep up this time, officer.”

His blood froze. She knew. She’d known.
And then she was gone—melting into the crowd like smoke, leaving behind only her champagne glass and the faintest trace of vanilla and sin.
His earpiece crackled again. “She’s heading toward the gallery. Security loop’s been glitched. Go now.” He was already moving.
Down the corridor, past bewildered guards. Into the private gallery where the real prize waited: the legendary Rothschild diamond, on loan from a European collector. Jungkook entered just in time to see her on tiptoe, unlocking the display case like she owned the place.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really take your time,” he said from the doorway.
Y/N didn’t flinch. “And for someone undercover, you really like to talk.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Still going to arrest me?” “That depends,” Jungkook said, stepping forward. “Did you miss me?” She turned fully, the diamond in her hand.

“Every day you didn’t catch me.”
Tension snapped taut between them—electric, magnetic, inevitable. But before either could say more, the alarms blared. Red lights flooded the gallery.

“Security breach! Lockdown in effect.”
Y/N cursed under her breath, turned—and threw the diamond at him.

He caught it, stunned. “Consider that a trust fall,” she called, sprinting for the back exit.“Now earn it.”

And just like that—she vanished again, a blur in heels and defiance. Jungkook stared at the diamond in his hand, breathless, heart racing.
She could’ve escaped with it. But she gave it to him. Why? This wasn’t just a game anymore. It was personal. The museum’s private gallery was a war zone of flashing red lights, slamming security gates, and panicked footsteps echoing through the marble halls.
And Jungkook stood in the middle of it, clutching a 24-million-dollar diamond in one hand—and her scent still clinging to his jacket.

She gave it to him.
Not out of mercy.
Not out of fear.
Out of trust.

“Sir, you need to evacuate—now!” a guard shouted.

Jungkook nodded and slipped the gem into his suit pocket. Then he took the emergency stairs, two steps at a time, ducking cameras and dodging questions. No backup. No plan.

Just instinct.
And her.

He found her two blocks away.

She was leaning against a sleek black motorbike, helmet in hand, mascara smudged from sweat and adrenaline—but still looking like a walking Vogue crime scene.

“You followed me,” she said.
“You left me a diamond,” he shot back.
“Fair trade.” She tossed him the spare helmet. “Get on.”

They didn’t speak as the city blurred around them—neon signs streaking like comet trails. His arms wrapped around her waist, he could feel her heartbeat pounding as fast as his own.

When they finally pulled into an abandoned rooftop garage, silence fell like ash.
She removed her helmet and turned to face him.

“So… what now, officer?”
Jungkook pulled out the diamond and held it between them.

“I should turn this in.”
“You should.”
“But I won’t.”

Her brows raised.
“Because I know why you were stealing it,” Jungkook said quietly.

“The man in the hospital. Your brother. Medical bills off the charts. You tried everything legal first, didn’t you?”
Y/N flinched. She looked away.
He was right.

“Why do you care?” she whispered. “You’re supposed to catch me. Be the hero. Get promoted.”

“I stopped wanting that the moment I realized… I was just another kind of thief. I’ve been stealing time. Letting the law feel like a shield when it was really just fear.”

She stepped closer.
“You’re not afraid now?”
“Oh, I’m terrified,” he said, voice low. “But not of you. Of what happens next.”

The distance between them disappeared in a breath.

She kissed him first.
Hard. Angry. Needy.
He kissed her back like he’d been waiting through lifetimes to do it.
When they pulled apart, her eyes searched his.
“So… what do we do now?”
Jungkook smirked.
“You keep running. But this time, I’m coming with you.”