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#FINALLY
theshitneyspears · a year ago
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Guess he finally found out.
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stimman4000 · 9 months ago
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found a twitter dedicated to the third amendment
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cuteskitty · 7 months ago
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Finished my professor/field researcher reguri au.
Leave a tip / Twitter
more ideas under the cut:
- Blue and Red get married (of course). Blue decides to become the new pokemon professor but moves his lab to Viridian so he can get a fresh start.
- Red decides to focus on field research, to support Blue but also so he can get an excuse to get funding and traveling around the world to study/live with pokemon
- Red travels a lot, he is very passionate so sometimes he gets into trouble just to catch a glimpse of certain pokemon. He gets bitten by a totodile that gets adopted at the lab. He also spent and entire week watching a honey tree in Sinnoh just to see a wild munchlax (when it works he videocalls Blue at 5 am) 
- Blue gives kids their starter and Red gives them a cool second starter while they are on their journey (he shows up in the middle of nowhere, gives them a pokeball and dissapears)
-Their pikachu and eevee have some babies together! they now have a lab filled with eeveelutions, 1 totodile, kanto starters and 12 powerful pokemon. Blue is tired but he’s very happy how his life turned out.
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yutaan · 9 months ago
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I know. I miss her, too.
Hey guess what, it’s MORE art of Jiang Cheng crying, this time with Jin Ling thrown in, ALSO crying! Nothing but good times on this blog!!
A papercraft commission for @b9rambling. The whole time I worked on this I was listening to “Light” by Sleeping At Last on repeat and making horrible sad faces down at my worktable to evoke the right mood and feeling horrible sad feelings about Jiang Cheng being backhanded straight into Single Dadhood all alone. It’s fine!! Everything’s fine!!!!!!
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kendallroygirlfriend · 3 months ago
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PRINCE PHILIP IS DEAD
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virgomoon · a year ago
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BLACK FOLK HAVING FUN IN THE SUMMER (PART 2):
Hot Girl Summer by Megan Thee Stallion (2019) dir. Munachi Osegbu Party by Beyoncé (2011) dir. Beyoncé and Alan Ferguson Motivation by Normani (2019) dir. Dave Meyers and Daniel Russell Crzy by Kehlani (2016) dir. Benny Boom All In My Head (Flex) by Fifth Harmony (2016) dir. Director X Wild Thoughts by DJ Khaled (2017) dir. Colin Tilley Beef FloMix by Flo Milli (2018) dir. Celeste Li+I
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zibermuda · 6 months ago
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ego killer (2) | jjk
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Summary — Jungkook doesn’t like that you’ve stopped sleeping with him to pursue somebody else. He doesn’t respect the fact either, which is exactly why he spends every waking second trying to make you fold. And, fold is exactly what you do.
Genre — smut (fuckboy!jk, nerdy!reader)
Words — 10,255
Warnings — unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving) at a party, deep dicking, missionary, multiple orgasms, body praise, hair pulling, tongue fucking possessive jk, in-love jk, begging, spitting, fingering, cum eating, nipple play, nipple sucking, biting, licking, dirty talk, breath play, overstimulation, crying (almost), jk is freaky and horny as fuck, drug usage, drinking, swearing
one | two | three/final
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masterlist || request
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Things go back to how they had been prior; Jungkook pretends you haven't a clue about his family and their struggles, and he fucks you like you owe him money. He touches you the same, but different. He kisses you the same, but different. The difference is him; he feels something for you and it's not entirely platonic anymore. It’s difficult for him to articulate his feelings, let alone comprehend them in his own mind. All he knows is the feeling of your tongue against his, the goosebumps that form on your skin each time he touches you, the stutter in your breath, and the way you feel so perfect wrapped around him. And, when you look into his eyes, he falls deeper into a trance. You have him wrapped around your finger, but you don't know that.
You see, he doesn't tell you how he feels about you, so you don't feel inclined to tell him how you feel, either. In a perfect world, you two would already be dating and you'd be so loved up without a care in the world. Alas, the world isn't perfect, and for the sake of turning this into a series, you don't date just yet.
You make him vulnerable and that's not okay. To entertain Taehyung’s comparison, Jungkook is like a little puppy, but only in the sense that he feels the urge to follow you around and hang from your every word. You know too much about him and it concerns him. He’s the same guy, but different. In the span of a few months, you’ve learnt that he’s much more than the campus fuck-boy with the thickest thighs and the dirtiest pick-up lines. He’s a stubborn boy who likes childish mobile games, who has an intriguing family, who has such a pretty smile, and a talent for maintaining his physique. He's just trying to get by like any other person.
He wants to get by so badly, and he does a pretty good job at it, but then things become different in an entirely different sense. Suddenly, you're not his to touch anymore and it's considered 'disrespectful' for him to ask what panties you're wearing or if you've touched yourself recently.
Well — you're probably thinking — what the fuck happened here? Taehyung asked you out and you said yes.
How, exactly? Nothing special or romantic, really. You’d been sat in a lecture by your lonesome — this was on a day that Jungkook hadn't shown up to class or in your notifications — and Taehyung pulled up the seat next to you. Being who Taehyung is, he spoke and he spoke until the idea of hanging out was brought up. You’d been morbidly embarrassed about the aquatic centre incident, but it quickly became clear that he couldn’t care less. If anything, he was satisfied that you put Jungkook in his place.
Let’s establish this; you're not the type to cut off all feelings for someone as handsome as Taehyung, so you obviously accepted his offer and met up with him at a dimly lit bowling alley. The date was fine, really, but then Jungkook crossed your mind and made you feel like something you didn't want to be; somebody who breaks hearts for the fuck of it. You then excused yourself to the bathroom to 'break up' with Jungkook. Not really, though. You weren't dating him per se, you were just dating his dick. Jungkook knew that, but he also knew that it was the worst day of his life.
Why? Aside from not having the option to see you naked anymore, his dad was arrested for tackling another man in a vodka-enduced-ninja-rage and his mom made a surprise visit back home. We'll call it what it is; the worst fucking timing. All aspects of his recent life are overstimulating, and whenever his mind races, he finds comfort in touching and being with you. You've made that clear that that’s not an option anymore, but he doesn’t believe that’s what you really want.
You’ve also learnt that he doesn’t listen to basic instruction. You could tell him not to put his hand in boiling water and he’d do it just because he was asked not to. If he wants something (you), he’ll break down obsidian walls to get it. If he put that much effort into his school work, he’d probably be a decent student. But, education-wise, nothing interests him. His dad was the same when he was younger, but never made it into college. He took a carpentry apprenticeship straight out of high school and has been constructing and building flooring, furniture, walls, doorframes, and other fixtures ever since. It’s pretty good work considering how handy it made him. When he’s not shit-faced off beer and vodka, he’s usually pimping out his wooden koi pond, or he’s bent over with his ass hanging out as he inspects the conditions of all the skirting boards.
Like a lot of dads, he makes petty mistakes which ultimately leave a huge impact on his kid. Like a lot of dads, he finds it difficult to apologise. If he ignores it and drinks a lot, maybe it’ll go away.
Jungkook sometimes thinks he’s going to end up like him. That’s his only fear.
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Let's rewind a little.
3:29PM. Wednesday. Jungkook took the bus to campus, decided to skip a forty-minute-long lecture because his attention span was lacking, kicked a soccer ball around the campus green with his friends, grew bored, and then headed back home, only to receive your 'break up' text as soon as his head hit his pillow.
6:11PM [Y/N] Hey! I’m gonna have to cut off our arrangement. Taehyung asked me out (yay) and I wanna see where things go from here :)
What an awful day, indeed.
He calls you, but you don't answer. And, he's never done this before, but he lays there and listens to the full length of your voicemail tone. You have such a pretty voice, even when you’re frustrated and it shifts a few octaves higher. He could probably listen to it for the rest of his life. Maybe. All he knows it that he’d much prefer that over the sound of an economics lecture. Geez, he sounds like a love-sick teenager.
He hasn’t ever been in a meaningful relationship, so he doesn't really know what he's feeling or how he should be acting. Maybe the feeling is something similar to how he felt when his mom flew across the world to live out her dreams without him. ‘Without him’ is the key word here.
You made him feel like he was part of something — something meaningful — and maybe his romantic feelings are a little far-fetched, but he can’t help but feel like you’re leaving him behind/taking something meaningful away. Why do all the best women in his life leave him for better things? He can’t get by without women — not just for sex — but because a handful of them give him the approval he so-secretly desires. He trusts women more than he trusts anybody else, especially if said women are strong and independent. But, on the contrary, women are like a bad religion. He drops to his knees for them, but no matter what he says or does, they won’t ever love him back. Unrequited love and mommy issues are an understatement.
He contemplates calling you for the second time, but a sudden knock on the front-door snaps him from his thoughts. And, as he wanders down the hallway and toward the front door, he frowns at the empty beer cans scattered all over the kitchen counter. His dad must've drank a lot more than usual to get into a fight with someone who wasn't his own kid, or maybe he had a lot of pent-up frustration from seeing a woman who wasn't his ex-wife in his home. Whatever the case, Jungkook isn't a happy bunny. He's 2/4 frustrated, 2/4 pride-less, and completely and utterly alone again.
He expects the knocker to be the mailman ready to complain about the lack of mail box. His dad pulled it from the ground and tossed it into the neighbours pool one night and it was never returned. Alas, the mailman must be fucking incompetent because there's such a thing as 'leaving mail by the front door.'
It’s not the mailman at all.. Not unless his mom took up another occupation.
She stands with dark hair tumbling over her collarbones, sun-kissed skin, and a small rug-sack slung over her shoulder. Her smile grows as she takes in the sight of her only son. And, when she wraps her arms around him and hugs — really hugs him — he smiles too.
“You’re back.” It comes out more like a statement than a question, mainly because he doesn’t want to hear ‘no’ as an answer. ‘No’ would mean temporary and he's had enough of temporary. She’s here right now and he’s just going to accept that the world may be helping him out a little. 
“Just for two weeks, but we can spend it together! We have so much to catch up on! I want to hear all about your studies and your new friends!” She says as she welcomes herself into her ex-husbands home. The house isn’t as tidy as she’d like, so she makes a mental note to spend the rest of the evening giving it make-over and smudging all the rooms with sage. “I have to be back at the sanctuary to see Sheila give birth. I’ll send lots of postcards.”
Temporary. He hates the feeling of temporary. 
Sheila is a three-year-old koala, by the way. There’s nothing else I can say about her. She doesn’t think about anything other than her primal instincts of sitting in a tree, eating eucalyptus, and breeding. She doesn’t know what love is, what quantum physics is, what an Oreo is. Sheila is just a koala and the least complicated character I’ll ever have to write about.
“Please don’t..” Jungkook mutters, mostly to himself, as he locks the front door behind her. “I’ve seen too many koala vaginas..” 
"Well, it's good to see that the house is in order." She says, and as she does, a kitchen cabinet unhinges itself and falls to the floor. "..Most of the house."
His mom scopes out the kitchen and smiles a little once she sees that her mug collection is still present and thriving underneath the kitchen sink. Jungkook's dad didn't change much about the house, not even the items that belong to his ex-wife. He still loves her and sometimes thinks that he can't go on living without having her around. The divorce wasn’t rough or fuelled by arguments like you may think. It was completely silent in a way. Jungkook’s mom simply packed her bags and left. No note, no text, no phone-call. That’s what made it so difficult for his dad and that’s what made him drink so much more than ever before. She kept in contact with her son, though. On most days after high school, Jungkook would take the bus to his mom’s new house and spend the rest of the afternoon playing sports in her garden or taking trips with her to the animal sanctuary. She made it very clear that he was forbidden from telling his dad where her house was or that she had plans of moving to Australia. And, when she eventually did get on that plane, she took away his only friend.
"Where's your father?" His mom finally pops the question as she's gathering empty beer cans into her arms. She’s expecting one of three answers; he’s at work, he’s out getting milk, he’s in the garden. None of those are on the menu, though. 
"Jail."
"What?” Her face drops like she’s just watched the alter boy shank the pope with a sharpened candy-cane during Christmas mass. “Why?"
"Assaulted a bus driver."
“My gosh.. For how long?”
He hopes never, but that would warrant a whole different set of issues. He’d have to find work at the local supermarket and work tirelessly to support himself; electricity bills, water bills, gas bills. Maybe he’d just go back to Australia with his mom and leave everything behind. That sounds easy, but it also sounds like the easy way out. “Long enough for three years of whiskey to drain from his system.”  
Silence. Utter silence, despite how much these two need to catch up. Jungkook’s mom has never been one to keep her feet on the ground and her head out of the clouds. She sees everything way too positively and it’s unbearable at times. It makes it difficult for her to feel anything other than butterflies, sunshine, and vegan ice-cream.
"..I'm supposed to have my friends from the local sanctuary over tonight.” She says, a little conflicted. "For tea and biscuits. Maybe you can invite your girlfriend."
"What girlfriend?" He’s confused about all of those statements. “And you’re gonna throw a tea party in this house?”
“I thought your father wouldn’t mind me staying here.”
You see; she doesn’t think things through. She left him without a word and thinks it’ll be fine to turn up, move back in his house like it’s a holiday home, and treat him like he’s an old friend. It’s a good thing he’s locked up right now, otherwise this house wouldn’t be as quiet as it is right now. 
"The nice girl who wears a lot of floral.” She says. “And, I didn’t think he’d mind.”
Y/N doesn’t wear floral. He thinks to himself. Then again, you’re not his girlfriend and you've never been. Maybe you could be. That would make it okay for him to kiss you in public, hold your hand, and be a bigger nuisance to you than he was before. Maybe the sex would be softer, but he doubts it. Sex is like a game of soccer or a session at the gym; he needs to eat a protein bar beforehand, bring his a-game, and dominate. Besides, we’ve already established that you like it when he handles you like you’re unbreakable. All this thinking is making his skin warm, but his heart colder. 
She notices the unchanged expression on his face and corrects herself. “I suppose it’s been a few years.."
A few years, yeah. Jungkook dated the ‘girl who wears a lot of floral’ when he was eleven years old. Is dated the right word? The two of them mainly avoided eye-contact in the hallways, danced together at the school disco for a record time of twenty seconds, and then moved schools and never spoke again. 
"I'll bring some people, don't worry."
Oh, Jungkook definitely brings some people, but they're not the type of crowd you should ever merge with your saint of a mom. By 9:00PM, the house is full of his outrageous college buddies and their spectacular drug collection. And, by 9:23PM, his mom’s friends are zooted out of their brains and can’t stop giggling at the shape of the vase that’s sat on the coffee table. The vase is normal, really, but these are a bunch of middle-agers who haven’t smelt the musky scent of weed since their time in college. They’re on cloud nine. Let’s leave them be for now and move on to the other attendees.
Kim Taehyung never misses a party, nor does he leave one without hooking up with a chick wearing a tight dress. This is precisely why you’re sitting on the couch with his arm slung over your shoulder and a cup of rum and coke in your hand. Your dress isn’t the tightest, nor is it the hottest one at the party, but Jungkook begs to differ. No matter what you wear, he can get one up. Your voice is enough at times. 
You tried to persuade Taehyung to go to a different party, maybe a club or another house party, but all your efforts were mercilessly torn down. It’s awkward to turn up to your ex-fuck-buddies party on the day you stopped fucking, right? You couldn’t verbalise that as an excuse, but he definitely knows about yours and Jungkook’s sexual history. He probably wants to rub salt in Jungkook’s wounds, too. You really hope they're not too deep, but the way he keeps throwing back shots and glaring at the non-existent gap between you and Taehyung suggests otherwise.
"Y'know, the face you make before sneezing is supposed to be similar to your orgasm face." Taehyung leans closer to mutter the innuendo in your ear, but you're not moved in the slightest. Why do dirty lines sound better coming from Jungkook's mouth? Hearing them come from Taehyung makes you wonder if he was frantically scrolling through pickuplines.com just five minutes prior.
That very thought is backed up once Taehyung drags you to the kitchen for a refill of your red cup. Jungkook has spent most of the night in the kitchen with a shot-glass in one hand and a joint in the other. He looks great tonight, but that means nothing because he always looks good; dark hair that often falls over his eyes, pretty pink lips, thighs to die for, and biceps that you’ve sank your nails into more times than you can count. Taehyung is equally attractive with a broad figure, a perfectly symmetrical face, and golden blonde hair. 
"Nice dress, Hello Kitty." Jungkook leans his lower back on the kitchen counter to steady himself. His world is spinning, and if he doesn't grab a hold of something, he'll fall face first right in-between your tits. "Really brings out your, uh, eyes."
Taehyung agrees with a nod and a leisurely glance toward your chest. Something else has caught his attention, too. He’s heard Jungkook call you ‘Hello Kitty’ more times than he has fingers and he has no idea why. He doesn’t like being on the outside of inside jokes. It makes him feel inferior and not in-control. "Why do you call her that?"
"I hope you never find out." Jungkook says and he means it. He also manoeuvres his way closer to you, but not for any particular reason; just because he can. But then, something crosses his mind and he leans down to mutter it in your ear. “Your boyfriend is a fucking dick.” 
First of all, Taehyung isn’t your boyfriend. Secondly, he’s way too busy browsing the enormous alcohol selection to pay any mind to the insult. He doesn’t even notice when Jungkook leans his cheek on your shoulder like you’re child-hood friends or something. You can smell the alcohol and weed on his person, and feel all 60kg of him slumped against you. He can smell your perfume and he loves it so much. It reminds him of all of those times he’s pulled your shirt over your head and been hit by the sweet scent. 
“Gonna black out. Maybe.” He adds and that’s your cue to be his friend, throw his arm over your shoulder, and drag his deadweight toward the hallway. If he throws up on you or passes out before you make it to his bedroom, you’re gonna rip your own hair out. There’s no way he should be anywhere near a bottle or vodka right now, let alone in the kitchen where he’d probably fall over and impale himself on some sharp object. 
Taehyung eventually notices the pair of you vanishing down the hallway and tuts like it’s the most pathetic thing he’s ever seen in his life. As long as you throw Jungkook in his bedroom and return to the party with a little more hormones coursing through your veins, he’ll be happy. He’s not worried about Jungkook stealing you from him. How could he be? Taehyung is smart, insanely hot, rich, and Jungkook is.. well.. equally attractive. That’s all there is to him. 
Jungkook’s bedroom smells the same as it had before you met his dad; of eucalyptus and a mixture of his cologne. Nothing has changed or moved, not even the stack of important college papers sat atop his desk. That’s a concern, considering how close finals are. What hasn’t changed is his desire to press kisses against the side of your neck as you’re tugging him toward his bed. 
"Jungkook, I'm seeing someone." You remind him with a tilt of your head. Your skin likes the feeling of his lips, but they really shouldn’t. 
"Me?"
"No, not you." You sit him down on the edge of his bed, but he just uses that as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and press his face against your stomach. "Taehyung, remember?"
"That's so mean of you."
"Lay down and get some sleep."
"Can we fuck right now? You smell so nice. Like flowers or something." He doesn't want to let go. He can feel your heartbeat and the soft fabric of your dress against his cheek. He likes himself better when he’s in your presence. That’s the way you make him feel; like he can do no wrong, like he has a voice. "Yeah, like flowers. Very floral."
"I'm here with Taehyung." You're not sure how many more times you'll have to remind him tonight. God forbid it being in the double digits. "I just told you."
“Okay, and? You're not dating." His familiar hands wander from your waist down toward your ass, but you're quick to swat them away. "Wanna fuck you so hard right now. Bet I can make you feel so good."
Ignore it. Come on, woman! It’s barely been a day. He’s as drunk as a sailor and would probably say the same thing to any other woman within a ten-mile radius. That’s what you think, but that’s not entirely true. To him, you’re the only woman in an infinity-mile radius. 
"I have an important rule." He slurs as you guide his back toward the mattress. You can smell the vodka and mint on his breath. "No panties allowed in my bed. You'll have to take them off."
"You're so gross." You scoff, but an amused smile contorts your mouth. He's so fucking unfiltered and it entertains you at the best of times.
“Can you do that again?”
“Do what?” You ask as you pull the bed covers up to his neck and tuck him in like he’s a child and you’re about to read him a bedtime story. He might as well be with the way the alcohol is making him incoherent.
“Smile.” He says. “You look like an angel.”
Should you feel unaffected by that? Because you don’t. Not entirely. It makes you feel a little shy, but he’s far too wasted to read your body language. 
"Why him? I know so much more about you.” He holds up a finger for each point he makes, but grows a little confused at number two. "You like strawberry flavoured water, studying late at night because it’s peaceful, being a bossy-boots, and your favourite writer is Jane Austen."
"Everybody knows that."
"You're ticklish on your hips, so you fight back a smile every time I touch you there. The only game you have in your phone is solitaire because you're so fucking lame." He’s still holding up two fingers because counting is near-impossible for him right now. "Your g-spot is ri—."
"Alright! You’ve made your point.” You silence him with a frantic hand wave, and as you turn your head to let your eyes run over the trinkets sat atop his bed-side table, you notice the Hello Kitty keyring attached to his house keys.
His eyes are already on you when you turn to face him again. They never left. Those big brown eyes are so enticing and doe-like, but that's not the only reason for the quickening of your pulse. There's something hidden within them. Something much more pure than usual. "Can you stay?"
"I have to let Taehyung know that I'm still alive."
"Please? I don’t wanna sleep by myself."
You weigh up the pros and cons, but those eyes play their part in convincing you entirely. The grip he has over you is comedic at times. You still have to come up with an excuse to tell Taehyung. Maybe you’ll say that Jungkook is incredibly ill and you’re the only one who can look after him. Eh.. We’ll work on the excuse. "Okay.. I'll stay."
You stay the night, but not without coming up with that really shitty excuse; because Jungkook’s mom needs help cleaning up the remains of the party in the morning. Pretty lame, right? But, Taehyung seems to accept it with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. And, when you return to Jungkook’s bedroom during the come-down of the party, he’s waiting for you with his hand resting underneath his cheek and those pretty brown eyes. 
You don’t have sex, or kiss, or say much of anything. You just fall asleep next to each-other. And, despite being wrapped up in your little dress, you fall asleep quite easily. He does too, but the slumber he falls into is the best one of his life.
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Jungkook wakes up at 9:21AM the next morning with a hangover almost as awful as the feeling that seeing you with Taehyung warranted. He remembers things pretty vividly, especially you agreeing to stay the night. That must mean something deeper than friendship, right? He really hopes so. He really wants you to feel something deeper for him. 
"Fuck sake." He rubs his eyes with the back of his palm and groans at the throbbing pain, but then sees you sleeping next to him and feels okay.
God, you’re so pretty. Your mascara is a little smudged around your eyes from fidgeting in your sleep, but he swears that he’s never seen anything as pretty. This is the first time you’ve woken up together, which is a little peculiar considering the amount of times you've hooked up. It’s a nice feeling, but it’d probably feel slightly better if you’d actually touched each-other the night before.
Right on cue, his mom waltzes into his bedroom with a mug in each hand. She's wearing her usual attire; an old teeshirt with a koala printed on the front, sneakers, and a pair of old jeans. And, despite the out-of-pocket party Jungkook threw the night before, she doesn't seem angry or irritated in the slightest. Her friends had a pretty good time, so that’s all that matters.
"Good morning, you two." She says with such enthusiasm that it wakes you from your slumber. It's a very weird thing to wake up to; next to Jungkook while his mom stands over you with a mug of hot tea.
Out of respect, you sit yourself up, thank her, and take a leisurely sip. It’s pretty damn good; slightly floral and citrusy like a French tea. You probably look like a complete mess. You can already tell that your hair has seen better days.
"I've cleaned the house." His mom inspects the bookcase full of Australian trinkets as she speaks. They’re all here. Everything she’s ever sent to him has it’s place on the bookcase. "Maybe you shouldn't tell you father that I'm back.."
Jungkook agrees. "Probably not."
"I'm going to stay with your aunt. Come visit later." She nods her head toward you and smiles slightly. "Bring your friend, too."
And then she leaves. She takes her rug-sack and one last look at the house, and then hops on a bus to her sisters house. It's about a twenty minute ride. Nothing too far or crazy. Jungkook knows where it is. He’s been to that house more times than he can count. 
“What’d you tell him?” Jungkook asks as you place your mug on his bed-side table. The strap of your dress falls down your shoulder during the process and he wants nothing more than to see it completely off. Your bare skin is a canvas that he likes to paint (if u know what i’m sayin).
“That I was gonna stay the night. He said it was fine.”
He mutters his response very quietly, but you’re not deaf. You hear him quite clearly. "Some boyfriend." 
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Still a dick.”
"Can you stop?" You frown. You’ve had more than enough of hearing his opinion on Taehyung. Those two boys are like dogs who can’t stop barking whenever they see one-another at the park. It’s ridiculous. "I get that you don't like him, but you don't have to be an asshole about it.”
"You like assholes, though. That's what made you so horny for me. Practically begged me to fuck you in your Hello Kitty panties."
"Drink your tea."
"No, I'm not done." He presses further like a ruthless detective. “Have you fucked him?"
"You’re unbelievable.."
"Answer me."
"No, we haven't slept together yet."
"Yet." He echoes back.
"Yes, yet. We like each-other. I'm allowed to do that."
He doesn’t say much in response and instead leans his head against the headboard and looks at you with those fucking brown eyes. Every time with those eyes. His dark hair is slightly disheveled from his slumber, but still looks fucking fantastic. He must’ve pulled off his shirt during his sleep because it’s definitely not covering those toned pecs or chiseled abs. It’s almost impossible for you not to flick your eyes from his to his abdomen; just to see if everything is in working-order. His lips are a little more fuller than usual, too.
“Are you just gonna argue with me all morning?” You pull the strap back over your shoulder and look around for your shoes. They’re placed neatly by the side of the bed. Your bag is there, too. Thank god. “And stare at me?”
“I can do other things, too.” His eager hand reaches underneath the bed-sheets for your inner thigh. He can’t help himself. He wants to touch you all the time.
“We can’t.” You insist, but you don’t do anything about his hand. Your body knows exactly what it can do. “I stayed the night because I thought you needed a friend.” 
“You’re saying you don’t feel anything for me?”
“I’m saying we’re just friends.”
He hears you, but he doesn’t believe you. You’re not entirely sure if you believe yourself, either. It’s complicated. Everything about this is complicated. He’s so fucking sexy.. Hang on a minute.. Control youself, woman!
He begs to differ because he places a little of his bodyweight into his hand and leans closer to graze his lips against yours, and you don’t pull away. His touch feels so good that your mind draws a complete blank. And, when he drags his mouth along your jaw and presses gentle kisses into your skin, your eyes flutter closed. “Friends who kiss?” 
Your breath stutters slightly as he runs his fingers underneath your dress until the hem of your panties meet his skin. His touch is light and sends goosebumps up your spine. “Friends who turn each-other on?” 
His tongue easily finds its way in your mouth and you kiss him back like a starved woman. It feels so right, but in the wrongest way. His touch never fails to make you weak in the knees, but that's exactly the problem. And, when he breaks for air, it’s hard for you to form a coherent thought. You’re beyond conflicted. He’s way too hot for his own good. “Friends who fuck?” 
"We can’t." You try to find a good reason, but it's lost deep inside of you. Your hands have found refuge hooked around his neck, but you’ve only just noticed.
“We can.” He says with his mouth, but those brown eyes do most of the talking. “Just one more time.”
One more time. His words ring in your ears like an apple alarm. Just one more time and then that’s it, right? Come on, you have the strength to resist him after just one more time. Once. That’s it. Good-bye sex. 
"I’ll do it how you like it." He brings his lips to your earlobe to mutter the explicit offer and his hands do their part in bunching the fabric of your dress at your hips. "Spit on your pussy and fuck you nice and deep.”
Your response sounds a little breathless, but he wouldn’t want to hear it any other way. “Just one more time.” 
It sounds like a pact, but those are just mere words. He already knows that he isn’t going to stop pursuing you and he knows for certain that you won’t stop giving in. Nobody else can make him come quick like you. Nobody else could make him beg for it like you can. He can’t stay away from you. You’re candy and he wants to suck on you until he gets a toothache. 
Without missing a beat, he tugs you further down the mattress and sits himself in-between your thighs. You’re wearing lacy, black panties, which is completely different to those cheeky panties you usually wear. It’s a complete turn on and is quite obvious by the growing out-line of his cock pressing against his sweatpants. His pant of choice is both a blessing and a curse. If he’s not wearing distressed, fitted jeans or vintage plaid plants, he’s wearing grey sweat-fucking-pants.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He says as he hooks his fingers underneath the lacy fabric and tugs them down your thighs and off at the feet. You drive him insane. Your body may drag him further to hell, but your thighs are the gateway to heaven. 
He’s not entirely sure how you got this dress on, so doesn’t even bother taking it off. Instead, he tugs on the fabric until it bunches just above your bare breasts. No bra. How convenient for his tongue to press against your skin and his mouth to capture your nipples. And, as he sucks on your skin and grazes your nipple with his teeth, he bathes in the feeling of your fingers raking in his hair.
"You're mine." He pulls his mouth away from your now-sensitive nipple and looks into your eyes, and for the first time, you feel afraid. You're not worried that he's going to hurt you — that's the last thing he ever wants to do — you're afraid that he's going to make it his mission to sabotage your chances with Taehyung. You've already had a head start, though, because you've just kissed someone who wasn’t him. "You're so mine and you know it.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth to gather saliva in his mouth before allowing it to dribble from his lips and onto your pussy. His spit runs from your clit to your entrance, where it merges with your own arousal. He knows exactly what he’s doing; he’s done it numerous times. He knows what you like, what makes you come quick, and what makes you sink your nails into his shoulders. 
And, as his mouth finally meets your pussy with just as much confidence as he met your nipples, he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He doesn’t want to miss a single expression, nor does he want to deprive you of the stimulation that something as simple as eye-contact can bring about. His fingers sink into the soft flesh of your thighs as he teases your entrance with the tip of his tongue. He knows the lewd act will make you want to clamp your thighs shut, so he plays his role by holding them wide enough for his face to slot right in-between. 
He fucks you with his tongue until his jaw starts to hurt, but that’s not enough to make him stop. He’d eat you out for hours if you asked him to. No questions asked. He open-mouth kisses your pussy like he’d kiss your mouth, and stimulates your clit with his tongue until your thighs are resisting against his hands. It makes you see a sky of stars, your lips fall ajar, and your fingers tug on his hair with no remorse. The moans falling from your mouth are heavenly. They make him press his hips harder against the mattress for some kind of stimulation to his throbbing cock. 
“Oh my god!” You jerk forward and tighten the grip on his hair, if that’s even possible. A ball of fire has been growing in your lower stomach from the very moment his tongue greeted your clit, but it’s becoming unbearable to the point where your thighs automatically fight harder to resist his hands. Your orgasm is just around the corner. You can practically taste it. He definitely can. “Stop! I’m gonna— fuck!”
“Come.” The vibrations from his voice over-stimulate your clit, as does the way he takes your skin in-between his lips and sucks harshly. “Come for me, baby.” 
You come on his tongue, but not without a whine that sounds a lot like a sob and an unprecedented trembling of your thighs. He licks you clean until there’s no evidence of your orgasm. He licks you like you’re his favourite lolly-pop.
Although slightly breathless, he wastes no time in tugging his sweats down his thighs and running the tip of his cock against your folds. And, when he sinks into you, he watches your eyes roll into the back of your head with his bottom lip caught in-between his teeth. Your arousal coats his tongue, lips, and chin, and glistens in the morning light. 
He fucks you like he owns you, like nobody else is allowed to stretch out your pussy and hear your pretty moans. Nobody else is. He’d probably kill somebody for this.
"Look at me." He demands, but you're way too caught up in the feeling of his cock buried deep inside of you to even register his words. He could say the same. He can’t get enough the feeling of you wrapped around him and the way you tighten your core whenever he does something completely unexpected; like praise you or hold his cock as deep in you as possible. "Fuck, this pussy is so tight. Never wanna get out."
He leans forward to wrap his fingers around your jaw and press his lips against the side of your mouth. And, the strain on your hamstrings is a little painful, but is balanced perfectly with the pleasure. 
"I'm never gonna leave you alone." He mutters, and as he does, he slams his cock into you. The lewd act earns a pitchy whine from your lips and an equally sultry moan from his. "You don’t want me to."
Your voice is tucked way too far back in your throat and you just can't bring it forward right now. All you know is those brown eyes, your stuttering breath, and that filthy tongue of his. He drags it from your jaw to your earlobe, where he bites down on the flesh to make you tighten your cunt around him once again.  
"Tell me you don't want me to." His grip on your jaw tightens at your lack of a response and his breath is hot against your neck. "Tell me."
"D—don't stop!" You’re on the verge of a sob. Your thighs are still shaking from your first orgasm and you can feel that very same ball of fire growing in your lower stomach again. Your head is cloudy and your inner thighs are sore from the harsh slapping of his skin against yours.
You dig your nails into his lower back until you’re almost certain you’ve pierced a few layers of his skin. There are definitely prominent, red scratch-marks cascading from his shoulder blades to the base of his spine, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, that means he’s doing his job right. 
He can feel the pulsating of your pussy and the quick heaving of your chest against his. He wants to make you come again. He’s going to make you come again, whether you think you can handle it or not. 
"You gonna come for me, Kitty?" He tightens his grip around your throat and focuses on pounding into you like he was placed on this earth to do just that. His lips fall ajar as he watches his cock pull out of your cunt and then sink back in where it belongs. There’s nothing better than this. He swears he’s never met a girl with a tighter pussy than yours. He loves how wet you get and how he can make it drip down your thighs without even touching you. "Twice in ten minutes. Don't forget it."
Are you crying now? Maybe you are. You’re definitely having your second orgasm and he’s absolutely fucking you through it nice and slow. His hips stutter not long after and he pulls out, grips the base of his cock, and comes on your pretty stomach. The groan that follows the string of white cum is enough to be embedded in your mind forever. 
"You're such a good girl." He mutters against your trembling lips. His hands run from your throat to your jaw, where he keeps you in place to place gentle kisses on your mouth. "My good girl. My pretty kitty."
You've really gone and done it now. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to respect your boundaries, not push and push until they tumbled down. He knows that he can get what he wants if he pushes hard enough. It's something you need to become immune to. But, it's becoming really fucking difficult with the way he's looking into your eyes. He does this thing; flicking his gaze from your eyes to your lips. And when he leans in to kiss you, he always grins. It makes your heart race, your head hot, and it turns you on beyond belief. No matter how hard you try, you cannot rid yourself of him.
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Taehyung really doesn’t miss a party, which means you haven’t been missing any, either. It becomes way too much of a routine for him to text you the details of latest party with the expectation of you attending with him. It’s definitely a status thing. You’ve met all of his football friends and their equally attractive partners. They’re a little snobby with rolexes on their wrists and access to daddy’s credit card, but they’re nice people. Taehyung is exactly the same, but you’re blinded by your fondness of him. Very few people would pass up the opportunity to be in the position you’re in right now.
The two of you are still in the talking phase. He sometimes pushes it when he gets a little too drunk, but he’s generally been respectful of your boundaries. Boundaries are a funny thing. You tend to put them up for certain people, but completely let them down for others. Jungkook is a prime example. You’re not sure why you trust him so much. Maybe it’s because he hasn't ever shown any sign of judgement or because he’s fond of every woman and their varying body types. He just doesn’t care and that’s super fucking comforting at times.  
Jungkook is at this party, too, but you really need to stop looking at him from across the room. You keep looking for him at places like these and never know why. Maybe you’re just running through the guest list, or maybe having him around makes you feel safer. For someone who doesn’t play in any college sport teams, he sure has a body full of muscle and fists made of iron. He’s bigger than the majority of the football players, including Taehyung. Then again, the gym is his happy place, second to being in-between your thighs. 
Jungkook knows that you’re looking at him. He knows that you haven’t been able to stop looking in his direction since you walked in here and sat down with that dickhead of a guy, Taehyung. So, with no shame whatsoever, he wanders over to you, sits down nice and close, and drapes his arm over the back of the sofa. Taehyung doesn’t care to notice. He’s too busy bantering with his friends and spilling his beer all over his denim jeans. 
"You look nice." Jungkook says with eyes full of mischief. And, as he leans closer to your neck, he whispers something that makes your head hot and your stomach twist. "I wanna eat you out."
That’s not the only thing he whispers in your ear during the length of the party. He tells you how nice you smell, how tight your dress looks, and how hard you’ve made him, but the thing that makes you abruptly stand and head straight for the bathroom to cool off is quite short and simple; do you think he knows that I fucked you so good last week? 
You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror and give yourself a mental pep-talk. What the fuck are you doing? Just tell him to stop. Hit him in the face. Another part of your brain fights and doesn’t want him to. But, he’s so fucking hot and has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen. He fucks you so well, too. What if Taehyung isn’t as good at sex? That’d be a disaster. During all of this debating, you rummage around in your purse for your chapstick and start applying it like it’s armour and will somehow make you stronger. 
"Your ass looks fucking spectacular in that dress." An all-too familiar voice startles you as you’re stuffing it back into your purse. Jeon Jungkook is after you once again like he’s a debt collector and you’re a disagreeable tenant. 
"Jesus Christ!" You clutch your chest as he closes and locks the bathroom door behind himself. That can’t mean anything less than smutty intentions. 
"Not quite." His eyes roam your pretty figure as he wanders over to you. Your dress is tighter than anything he’s ever seen you wear before and it’s really, really turning him on. "I've come to tell you that your little boyfriend has his hand in between someone else's thighs right now."
"Liar." You fend with a roll of your eyes. Again, you’re turning him on. Your attitude was the thing that drew him to you in the first place. He is lying, by the way, but it’s not a very good lie. 
He places his hands on the bathroom counter beside the curves of your hips and holds his face close enough to yours until you can smell the spearmint on his tongue. He hasn’t been drinking at all tonight, which is beyond odd. You haven’t, either, but that’s not a surprise. "Why would I lie to you, Kitty?”
"To get into my pants."
Your response amuses him, but it also makes him a whole lot more smug than he was five seconds ago. And then, he doesn’t that thing with his eyes; alternating between your lips and your eyes. "I'm gonna get in there no matter what."
Fucking hell. Just breathe. Just resist.
"I had a dream about you last night." His fingers migrate from the counter-top to rub against the back of your thighs. He already knows that your panties are dampening. His voice and touch does that to you very easily. 
Your voice is quiet and breathy. "We ca—."
"—Can’t fuck anymore? Aren't you gonna ask me what my dream was about?"
"We can't do this anymore." You get the whole sentence out this time. Good for you. "Last time was the last time."
"No? Then why is your pussy clinging to your panties right now?" He proves his accusation by running his fingers along the hem of your panties. You’re wet and he knows that he’s the reason behind it. "I walk into a room and you don't know what to do with yourself."
"Speak for yourself."
"I know exactly what I wanna do when I see you." He brushes his lips against your earlobe as he speaks. His voice is low, dripping in sex, and driving you completely insane. There’s no way you’re walking out of this bathroom with anything less than damp panties. "Wednesday; I wanted to fuck you against the admin building. Yesterday; I wanted to fuck your throat until you cried."
"Today.." His fingers dip beneath your panties and tease the entrance of your cunt. Your knees are already feeling unstable, but feel like jelly once he pushes a finger deep into your pussy until his palm hits your clit. "Wanna taste your cum on my tongue and fuck you with my fingers."
“Oh my— god..” Your voice sounds pathetic. It’s barely a whisper. 
“Tight.” He says simply. It’s just a statement, but it sounds a whole lot like a compliment. Whatever the case, you take it as one. “Always so tight.” 
Your hands grip the counter-top with such force that your knuckles begin to cramp. And, a breathy moan tumbles from your lips as he adds his middle finger to the party.
“Can’t stop thinking about you.” He says with two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt at a slow, sloppy pace. Your lips remain ajar and your fingers grip onto the marble for dear life. He can fuck you well with anything. Literally anything; fingers, tongue, eyes.. “All the time. What have you done to me?”
He fucks you deep and presses against your g-spot until your thighs automatically clamp themselves shut. Again and again. He slides his fingers inside of you until you really clamp around him and reach an orgasm. 
With his eyes trained on yours, he brings his fingers to his mouth, where he slowly drags his tongue over his skin. He gathers your arousal in his mouth and licks his fingers until there’s no remaining evidence. It leaves a tight knot in your stomach and a painful throbbing between your thighs. And then, he kisses you hard and fervently. You taste your own cum and chapstick on his tongue, and when he breaks the kiss, you take a little longer to re-open your eyes than he does. He already has his back to you and is headed toward the door. 
“If you can’t have me, nobody can, right?” You call out before he leaves entirely.
Jungkook holds back many urges whenever he sees you, but he has to try a little harder to suppress this one; a confession. He wants you so fucking bad. Not physically, although he definitely wants that too, but emotionally. Relationships aren't easy. Sex is. Fucking you, eating you out, and muttering filthy innuendos in your ear. Those are all so easy. Very easy, in-fact, but now isn't the time to brag. Talking about his feelings, opening up about trauma, thinking about those three words. It all seems impossible to him, but then he looks at you and he feels like he can say anything without fear of judgement. Yeah, you're a complete ego killer, but you're entirely in-touch with your emotions and probably vent a healthy amount in a diary or with your lame marketing club friends. You’re a good girl.
"You look so pretty tonight." Is all that his mouth presents. He was going to call you a minx or a vixen, but pretty suits you a lot better. "See you in class."
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You definitely see him in class the following week. He’s just as negligent as you expect him to be, but you don’t expect him to be called back into the lecture theatre to speak personally with the lecturer. That can’t mean anything good. Not unless he somehow turned his grades around in the span of forty five minutes. 
You know it’s none of your business, but you can’t help but linger outside the theatre to eavesdrop on their conversation. The students passing by barely pay you any mind, so you feel like you can do this pretty stealthily. 
“Jungkook, this is the third time you’re taking this unit.” The lecturer starts and your heart instantly sinks. “This unit is compulsory for your degree and I’m worried you won’t graduate at all.”
“Don’t worry about anything, miss.” Jungkook says. You wonder what expression he’s wearing. Maybe he’s forcing a smile or leaning against the desk to come off as nonchalant. “I’ll pass this time. Definitely.”
“Have you thought about, I don’t know, following in your fathers footsteps? Taking an apprenticeship and getting into handiwork?”
Of course, she doesn’t know just how bad home-life is for Jungkook or how much of an asshole his dad has been his entire life. She doesn’t know that he’s completely missed the point and taken her suggestion the wrong way. Follow in his fathers footsteps? He’d rather cover himself in wet cement, wait for it to dry, and have someone tear off the dry cement as well as his own skin. He’d rather die than be anything like his dad. 
“Have you?” His voice grows louder, which could only mean that he’s headed for the door. Quick! Pull out a book and pretend like you weren’t being nosy! “Have you thought about getting into handiwork?”
Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be leaning against the wall with a romance novel covering your face. He’s also not sure why you’re reading it upside down. Maybe you’re just that smart and can read at any angle. “Oh, hi. You have another class in here?”
“No.. I was just..” What’s the point in lying to him? You’re concerned, and as a concerned friend, you should try to find out the issue and do your bit as a friend to help him. “You’re failing?” 
“I’m not failing.” He swipes the loose that’s paper sticking out of your coat pocket and scans over it with his curious eyes. And, even though he doesn’t understand half of the words used, he knows it’s some sort of flyer for your marketing club. “I’m just good at finding out what doesn’t work.”
You nibble on your bottom lip and mentally debate with yourself. Was it selfish of you to stop tutoring him? You’re not obliged to help him, but then again, you’re not obliged to return shopping carts to their respected locations. It’s just about morale. Jungkook is your friend, right..? A friend who licks his fingers before shoving them down your pants. Not the point! He’s a good guy and deserves success and happiness. You might just be the only person on campus who truly believes that, though, and that’s what makes your stomach turn. 
“I gotta go, Kitty.” He returns the flyer back where he found it, but doesn’t leave without saying something that’s always running through his mind whenever he sees you. “You look pretty today, by the way.” 
Jungkook isn’t planning on passing that unit, in fact, he’s not planning on passing any of them. Why? He can’t find the motivation or the willpower, and no matter how hard he tries to concentrate, he just can’t. He doesn’t believe there’s a worthy reward to studying and passing his units. This is exactly why he’s wandering over to the administration building to withdraw from them all. He’ll have to wash cars, walk dogs, or tend to his elderly neighbours’ garden with his shirt off. You’d be surprised how many elderly women would pay him to do just that.
While at college, some students fall in-love with an area of study, some grow fond toward new friends and hobbies. That’s what college is supposed to be about; finding yourself and your passions, pushing your limits, and making meaningful friendships. Jungkook hasn’t done much of any, but he sure has fallen in-love with a girl who has. 
The lady sitting behind the front desk greets him with a small smile. It’s almost like she knows exactly what he’s here to do. She’s quite beautiful with dark hair tumbling over her right shoulder and lips coated in a soft, pink lipstick. She has to be in her early twenties. That or she’s a total MILF. 
“How can I help?” She asks with her pretty and professional voice. 
Jungkook places his hands on the desk and thinks about his decision before verbalising it. He has nothing to lose. He wasn’t getting anywhere with his studies. If anything, they were holding him back from doing something he might actually want to do. “Can I withdraw?” 
“Name and student number?”
“Jeon Jungkook.” He says, and as he does, a boy sitting in the waiting area pulls down his newspaper to scope out the speaker. It’s Taehyung, of course. Who else would it be?
Taehyung doesn’t like Jungkook that much, mainly because he’s a rule-breaker and always finds a way to humiliate him in front of his friends. The pair of them are classic textbook enemies; they’re after the same girl, both incredibly handsome, and are polar opposites. He’s here because he’s waiting for his new student ID card to be printed. He lost it somewhere on campus and nobody has bothered to come forth and report their findings. It’s practically a collectors item.
Jungkook doesn’t like Taehyung either, so when he leans his lower back against the front desk to look around the administrative building, he sighs when he spots him folding up his newspaper and meandering his way over. 
“Be straight with me.” Taehyung wastes no time and jumps straight into his questionnaire. He’s also internally begging that you haven’t been sleeping around behind his back. It would humiliate him beyond belief. He’s supposed to do the sleeping around and you’re supposed to be an all-innocent girl with a GPA that matches his own. Oh, how wrong he was to think that. “Have you been sleeping with Y/N?”
“Be more specific.”
“Jesus Christ. Have you made her come in the last week?” He says a little too loudly. The pretty woman sat behind the front desk pulls her eyes away from the computer screen to scope out the two boys. She’s had to deal with many upset students during her time here, but she’s never heard this route of conversation before.
“Yeah, three times.”
Taehyung pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply like his personal landscaper has just fucked up the garden by trimming the hedges unevenly (that actually happened, by the way). “Fuck, man.. She was such a nice girl.”
“She’s still a nice girl.” Jungkook reassures. You’ve never been a bad girl to him. Well, not in the sense that Taehyung’s implying. You only warrant the bad girl status when you suck on his fingers during sex or sink your teeth into his bottom lip during heated make-out sessions. 
Taehyung suspected that something was still going on between you two. That's so fucking humiliating and that’s definitely not how things are supposed to work for him. How could a girl with the worlds least intimidating face play him for a fool? And with a guy like Jungkook? Humiliating. “She’s never going to see you as anything serious.”
“I don’t get it..” Really, he doesn’t. He thinks can be serious. He thinks can be your type of serious. 
“Your grades are shit, your parents are shit, and you don’t even have your own car."
“Not all of us were born with silver spoons shoved up our ass.”
“Look, I'm gonna give you some life advice. Women are simple.” Taehyung says with such conviction that some might actually believe him. “They wanna be fucked deep, buy a nice house, have a few kids, get their nails done, and be taken out to Olive Garden every Tuesday.”
Jungkook isn’t convinced, though. He knows that the most stressful part of your day is going out for meals because ‘there’s just too much choice.’ “Y/N doesn’t even like eating out.”
“You’re missing the point. Just leave her to me.”
What's the deal with you? Taehyung wonders. Why is it that campus' notorious playboy can't stop sleeping with you? Are you that good in bed? Do you have the sexiest moans? Are you flexible in a way that no other woman is? He needs to find out for himself, but he needs Jungkook to be completely out of the picture for that to happen. There's something going on between you and Jungkook, but he doesn't think it's entirely sexual anymore. Whatever it may be, he needs to put a stop to it. Smart girls like you shouldn't be with muscle-head boys like Jungkook who can't even recite the alphabet without calling a friend.
Taehyung knew you were different from the very moment he saw you being pestered by Jungkook by the edge of the pool. And, he knew you were different when you humiliated him in front of all of those students. It’s a rarity to find somebody like you. He thinks he deserves you more than anybody else. 
Meanwhile, Jungkook has thoughts of his own. Is love completely off the table? It might be, but he's the type to push off all the cutlery and ceramic to make room for something bigger and better. Although, he’s not entirely sure why he’s playing this out to be such a difficult task. He already loves you. He just doesn’t know that love is behind the constant thoughts of you, the smile you put on his face by being nearby, and his unprecedented goal of making you happy. You’re a good girl and that’s what makes you so attractive. It’s not about the clothes you wear, your hairstyle, or the colour of your nails. Those kinds of things are candy for the eye. You’re candy for his mind and he’s entirely addicted to you. 
Thanks for reading!
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