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jungkookstatts · 3 months

Text

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

645 notes · View notes

aseaofyoongi · 1 year

Text

behind pixels: sequel | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: sex worker au (jk)

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: after visiting a certain little app where a guy assisted you during a very stressful night, you realize the man is closer to you than you think.

warnings: not another continuation to a college au. . yes, yes it is; a bit of fluff, a but of smut; wetdreams-ish; masturbation; clitorial stimulation; fingering; in a public location… if you know what i mean; penetrative sex; unprotected sex; oc is a bit insecure; crush culture; i think that’s it honestly

word count: 12.7 thousand words

posted: may 13, 2023

notable songs: self control - frank ocean | love is only a feeling - joey bad$$ | day dream - destin conrad | fire in the sky - anderson paak

It’s been two weeks.

An entire fourteen days since you were blessed with JK’s instructions as assistance to a night of relief from a collection of frustrating days.

The night when his thunderous voice soothingly lead you towards the most delicious orgasm you’ve experienced. Days after that very event you found yourself dwelling in the fanasities he had communicated from the other side of the screen — dusting off the records stored deep in your brain. All you wanted, all you craved was his voice, his attention, and the one thing you had not been able to experience yet, his touch.

After locking your dorm room door, you removed you shirt and shorts before plopping down on your cotton bed sheets. Your eyes were shut tightly blocking out the brightness from the lamp on the nightstand, with the constant linger of JK in your head your hand began traveling lower until it finally pushed past the hem of your panties. The feeling of your fingertips against your clit sent bolts of electricity en route down your back. You began, working towards that same finish line you’d once crossed when talking to JK on Eargasm. But it wasn’t the same, it’s like you were on that same road you once were but your destination moved farther and farther into the horizon.

Still, with beads of sweat streaming down your temples and with your right hand going numb you continued to rub circles against the sensitive bud in-between your folds.

“Come on, come on,” you huffed as your already muggy dorm became hotter and hotter.

But it wasn’t working — It was useless. Your fingers were useless.

“Doll,” you heard his voice from across the room.

“JK?” your eyes flew open envisioning the man you’ve only spoken to from behind your computer screen. You weren’t sure why but it was so hard to draw the connection between the two of them. There was JK, the man who helped you just a few nights ago with his alluring utters. Then, there was him, still JK only he was the boy who sat behind the front desk in the student center with his nose constantly stuck behind a book. They were the same person but they couldn’t be any more different.

Standing at completely different ends of the road. One became the personification of all of your carnal desires, while the other hid behind a clear shell unbeknownst to the effects his beauty had on you, on all of those around him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, dazed by the fact that he was here. . in your dorm and you were semi naked in his presence yet again, “how did you find out where I live? How did you get in?”

“Don’t worry doll,” he still wore the black mask he wore when he was on camera with you but you could tell by the way his eyes crinkled up that he was smiling behind the dark cloth, “I’m here to help. And by the looks of it seems like you just might need my assistance once again.”

He nodded in the direction of your hand buried under the fabric of your panties.

“I don’t have a masturbation addiction, OK?” you sat up on the bed resting your back on the headboard.

“I never said that,” he chuckled, “if you haven’t noticed I’m a sex worker and if anything, I’m addicted to making people cum.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat, his bluntless shooting straight down to your core.

“By my records I made you cum very. . very quickly,” yes, you were still succumbing to the endorphins of your thoughts circling around him — too focused on the way the bed dipped right beside you, “do you remember that?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, doll,” his hand landed right beside your thigh and he began gently stroking the fabric of your sheets, “don’t tell me you forgot already.”

“I didn’t,” there was a tingle slithering on the surface of your skin, “I was just thinking—“

“You’re thinking of him again aren’t you?” he shook his head, “just remember I’m just a couple messages away and he isn’t even around.”

“Him?” if only he knew. He was him.

“Him. That boy you told me about,” the pads of his fingers brushed against your thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, “the one you said you were thinking about when you were touching yourself.”

“I wasn’t thinking of him.”

“Don’t spare my feelings doll. Tell me the truth. I can take it,” in a way he was right you were thinking of him, the boy from the student center but that also meant you were thinking of JK — how would you even go about explaining this situation to the very man who was clueless to the fact that he was the only person occupying your thoughts?

“When you wanna forget about him for a bit you know where I’ll be doll,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear softly, “I’ll show you a good time.”

His cool breath met the shell of your ear almost in a slowed motion, it left you a shuddering mess. Overcome by the feeling of the electrical currents coursing through your veins. You were addicted to that very feeling but specially because you knew he was the only person who could make you feel what you felt.

“JK, I promise, I’m not—“ you opened your eyes only to be met by a vacant space beside you on the bed.

Fuck. Not again, not again, not again. Everytime you found yourself aiming lower in an attempt for self release he visited you. Storming your thoughts like a tropical storm and wreaking havoc in his path. Reminding you that your fingers no longer had a sense of direction in mapping out your fantasies.

Your fingers now entirely futile. All while your sexual frustrations rose and your cunt continued its rhythmic drumming mimicking a quickening heartbeat. It was increasingly painful and it reminded you of the ease you’d once experienced under JK’s ministrations.

“I’m going crazy. .” you whispered out into the void, “I’m going fucking crazy.”

Temptation drew you closer and closer to the laptop laid out on top of your desk. Although you tried to restrain yourself against it, leaning back on the feeling was much easier. And before you knew it you were sitting on the computer chair with the browser opened up staring right back at you.

In your mind, you typed out Eargasm over and over again — yet there was a hint of hesitation restraining your hands to the arm’s rest.

“He’s just a couple words and clicks away,” you typed out the letters but your hand remained hovering over the keys incapable of actually conducting the search. Surrounded by silence and the anxious streaks of hesitancy — there were an abundant number of questions clouding your mind. But the main one remained whether he would even want you there.

“Just do it, you little bitch,” realistically speaking the chance of JK being online was high, but wasn’t exactly the issue. You knew he extended an invitation for you to visit him at your leisure but in the back of your head you couldn’t help but wonder if you were pushing it demanding his attention this quickly?

The clacking of the keys echoed among the walls of your room. Immediately, your eyes were exposed to the bright turquoise full screen with the seven letters highlighted in a bright pink tone. The more you ogled the welcome screen the more you were consumed . . fervid with the excitement cooking up in your stomach as you came to terms with the fact that JK was so close. In a haste you clicked on the message icon wanting to pull up the very familiar username but to your demise there was a ruby colored ring surrounding his icon. He was with someone else. . Someone who wasn’t you.

This is his job. You repeated.

He does this every night. You repeated.

There was an aching sting springing in the center of your chest and while prior to that night your heart remained at a sinus rhythm, in this moment that changed and you could feel as the organ slowed pumping almost coming to a full stop.

It really shouldn’t sting but you couldn’t help that it did.

“Please tell me you’re planning to go back home at some point this summer,” your best friend approached the table you occupied on the second floor of the dinning hall.

“Not a chance,” you swayed your pointer finger left and right.

Though, campus was significantly bare during the following scorching months there was nothing to really go back home to. While, you didn’t necessarily have a bad relationship with your parents — they were just never there. The purpose for their living and breathing was reduced down to avoiding you so they became addicted to their jobs. A pair of workaholics looking to forget about their personal lives, which only resulted in becoming estranged to their only daughter in the process.

And at the end of the day you’d rather spend nearly all three-hundred and sixty five days of the year on school grounds as opposed to being cooped up in a ‘house’ with nothing but empty rooms and frigid hallways.

“I can’t believe you actually chose to stay here. If I were you I’d be springing right past those brick columns and archway,” she sighed resting her head on her palm.

“How about we actually get you to pass that pesky math elective so that we can get back to your family for the entirety of the summer.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“What will it take to finally get you to go back home at least once next summer?”

“I don’t think anything is compelling enough for me to go back there and ruin my summer,” you shrugged while taking another bite of your sandwich.

“Come on,” she whined, “Nothing?”

You shook your head — there was nothing back home for you but stark loneliness. That was crystal clear to you.

“There’s not a special somebody waiting for you?” Once again, you shook your head.

Nada.

“So you’re telling me there's not a mystery man who’s the root of all your pent up sexual frustration?” She raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not believing a single word out of your mouth. You hushed her immediately, scanning your surroundings to make sure the people in the surrounding tables weren’t hearing in on your conversation. They weren’t.

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

“You act as if it’s a crime,” she rolled her eyes, “everyone masterbates and it’s actually healthy you know.”

“I would really appreciate it if we could hold this conversation until we are behind closed doors,” you uttered through gritted teeth, feeling like you had the label ‘recent masturbater’ plastered on your forehead.

“Fine,” she took yet another bite of your apple, “will you at least tell me if Eargasm helped you illustrate all of your wildest fantasies.”

“You make it sound like it’s some sort of elaborate form of art,” you guffawed.

Her bulging eyes stared at you as if you’d insulted one of her family members or a pet, “It is an art form. It definitely is. Just think how hard it must be to help someone get off by quickly reading their body language through a screen.”

“When you put it like that the guy I saw must be a magician,” God, you tried stripping all hints of excitement from your voice at the casual acknowledgment of his presence.

If anything JK himself was an art piece himself, illustrated onto the canvas with pristine brush strokes detailing all the perfect curvatures of his face and physique. He draped himself in dark hues and even within the square frame just hung on the wall he was a light source. One that demanded your attention, holding eye contact at all times and refused to let you dedicate even a bit of your attention to anything or anything who wasn’t him.

“What do you mean by that?” she squinted while crossing her arms at her chest.

“Well, for starters,” you shrugged, “I kind of never turned on my camera. . Not for the beginning of the session at least.”

“Not for the entire session?”

“Exactly.”

“Bitch, that was a question not a statement.”

You sighed; blanketed with bashfulness, “so after I requested a video session and he finally called I physically couldn’t hit the camera button.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing condescending,” you took a sip of your water, “he was actually really nice about it. That was pretty much the session.”

“But you insinuated you turned it on at some point?”

You stared out the glass windows adoring the wall beside the table — Now, you began to weigh your options. You could either deflate, avoid or confess. And at this point you were one hundred percent sure she has seen far too much. Much more than you ever intended to show anyone on this entire campus.

“I said that?” Avoid? Ok.

“You did. .” She pushed her chair closer to yours, perhaps her attempt at creating a concealed atmosphere.

“I have nothing to tell.”

You kissed her teeth simulating hints of annoyance at your discretion, “Bitch. . stop acting clueless. You’re a shit liar.” She eyed the way you anxiously played around with your hooped earrings.

“I’m not hiding anything” you let go of the silver jewelry and sat up on your chair, “And I’m not a shit liar.”

“Fine. Spare the juicy secrets.” She shrugged, “but at least tell me who you saw.”

After giving the tables around you a thorough scan to make sure he wasn’t near you finally whispered the only name you knew him by into her ear, “I almost chose Tae but then remembered you see him so I saw JK instead.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t cause Tae is mine,” she grinned like a fool. A love struck fool.

“Yours, as in yours and probably a hundred other girls. You know that, right?”

“That’s the crude reality isn’t it?” she sat the half eaten apple on the table huffing continuously like a mopey child, “how was JK though?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and while there were a million praises you wanted to express, all of the words sat idle in the back of your throat, “he was good.”

“Just. . good?”

“Well, better than good actually,” you began, urging your mind to unscramble the words needed to amplify his saccharine aid, “He was gentle and patient. But even more than that he was also sweet and caring.”

“I’ve read this man’s description before so he has tattoos and an eyebrow piercing right?” you nodded in confirmation, “plus he’s a literal angel?”

“Pretty much.”

“Dear God, how are you even breathing right now?” she placed her arms at your shoulders and rocked you back and forth emphasizing your existence here on planet earth as you finally comprehended that you weren’t just living some sort of venereal dream.

“I-I honestly don’t even know,” the flashed lingers of that night resided in your mind in small clips — the more you tried to recall the amatory details the more your mind became cloudy, dazed in its own lustful elixir. A potion so potent you were still high days after just off that hour doze, “it was definitely a night.”

“You should visit him again,” she began poking your side, “I know you wanna see him again.”

“I don’t know,” you giggled, pushing yourself away from her finger, “I honestly think it was a one time thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

General Ed classes were frankly the worst part of university. You couldn’t quite understand the need to take all of the same classes you took and passed in highschool just so that they could reaffirm that you could in fact do math or knew your basic knowledge of biology or chemistry.

It was bullshit — An evident cash grab scheme. All at the expense of dedicating one’s freshmen year attending classes we truly didn’t even really need applied to our major.

You could sincerely rant about this all day long but it was currently nine in the morning, you were running low, (very low actually), on coffee and you were already ten minutes late to your intro to biology class. Your pace was matched with long strides as you were practically running through the courtyard.

Finally pushing through the glass door you felt the way the blanket of sweat covered your forehead. Leaving your skin as bright as polished glass and your breath shortening as a result of the rapid trip between your dorm and the library.

“Fuck,” you were out of breath choosing to take a seat on the bench near the entrance for a seconds before reluctantly hoping back on your feet and trotting up the stairs to the computer room.

Looking through the door’s window you saw the professor lecturing away. You practiced about a dozen ways to go in before you finally convinced yourself to just barge in — which eventually you did but a wave of regret washed over you when the door behind you closed with a loud bang and suddenly all glares were on you.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“No worries, it happened to almost everyone here. Seems like the door is louder than we perceived,” the professor replied.

Scanning around the mid-size room you saw foreign faces staring back at you until your bestfriends smiled beamed brightly from the table at the end of the room. She was sitting alone with two vacant chairs on either side “Yeah, seems like it.”

“Well, welcome to Intro to Conducting Research. I’m Mr. Kim.” he introduced himself with a tender smile, “I hope you found your way ok. I know this one’s kind of a hidden gem unlike the rest of the lecture halls.”

“It did take me just a bit of time,” you chuckled, suppressing your nerves as they quickly urged you to scramble away from the front of the class and just sink into a chair to prevent yourself from verbalizing anymore idiotic babbles and incoherencies, “is the seating assigned?”

“No, no go ahead and find a seat wherever you’d like. We were just getting started.”

Quickly, you found yourself plopping on the chair beside your bestfriend, puffing out the constrained breath that had taken your chest cavity hostage as a result of your embarrassing entrance. Mr. Kim continued his first day lecture which mainly consisted of a syllabus reading, his life’s story and the scrambled rules to an icebreaker on the white board.

“What do the icebreaker questions say?” your friend asked, squinting to get a better look at the board, “I left my glasses at my dorm.”

“Does it matter?” you slouched down aiming for complete comfort slinging your feet on the metal bar, “we literally know everything about each other already.”

“Bullshit, I have no idea what your name is. .” Her delivery was accompanied with low and raspy vibratos. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was mimicking Mr. Kim’s voice. She pulled her phone from one of the pockets of her book bags and began scrolling aimlessly.

Your chuckle was airy and quickly vanished when you heard the rusty hinges of the door wailing out. The loud noise from the door meeting the threshold startled you although your eyes were already glued to the front of the room.

“That door is going to drive me fucking crazy,” the exasperation in her words was evident and you were about to agree but suddenly, you had moved from your place right beside her — feeling like she was now miles away. While you were now in this narrow space similar to an alley or tunnel. In the distance you saw her still glued to her phone screen while sitting on the opposite end; succumbed to pitch blackness. Even as you stood and attempted to sprint in her direction you were condemned to the enclosed walls.

You couldn’t tell whether you were trapped within a dream or a nightmare but he was here.

JK was here.

That was the torment drumming itself amongst the walls of your skull as the beat etched the stills of that night deep into your brain. The night you swore you would forget yet here he was to remind you of every second of it. Yet, your gaze was focused on him and you just couldn’t peel your eyes away.

You’d concluded it was entirely his fault. He possessed the kind of beauty you’d only ever heard derived from the ancient Gods of Greece — and as if he was a descendant of Aphrodite he held distinct associations to his name. You would argue JK was synonymous to beauty (obviously), love, passion and most certainly lust.

You must have been deep in orbit because you couldn’t recall the first or the second or the hundredth time your friend called out for you, so much so that she began shaking you to get you to snap out of it.

“Cute boy is coming this way,” she nodded in his direction, and you quickly realized he was closer than you had perceived, “Look alive bitch. He definitely looks like your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” you whispered through gritted teeth — he was close now. Just a few feet away.

“Yes, you do,” she mumbled back, “he’s practically a carbon copy of your Eargasm boyfriend.”

“He’s not,“ you argued quietly.

With her giggles circling through the air and your bulging eyes of horror JK finally made it to the proximity of your table and his soft utters sent an algid shiver to take route on your skin freezing you right into place.

His name was Jungkook, you’d learned.

He was JK but he was also Jungkook.

Between unremitting stutters you introduced yourself briefly and he took the liberty of occupying the only vacant chair left in the classroom which also happened to be right next to your best friend.

Small talk was your kryptonite and while your friend excelled in keeping conversations alive, you sat opposite the two of them lulled into space. Making your best attempt to seem as least interested as possible. But the truth was whenever you heard his voice you thought a command would follow right behind it — just like the ones he communicated that night.

Your thoughts were scrambled into a mess and there was a dull ache in between your legs further accentuating the frustration you’ve felt for far too long.

“What about you?” he asked, his eyes were duly set on you.

“Huh?” his brown eyes were so much more invasive in person and you felt like he devoured you with them.

“Is this your second year too?” he repeated.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, “it is.”

“Don’t mind her,” your friend said, “she’s a little out of it.”

“It’s ok,” he smiled; and quickly you noticed the silver hoop sparkling on the corner of his lip. Was that always there? You hadn’t noticed before. “Being here for the summer has us all going a little crazy.”

“Is this your first summer here?”

He nodded, “I usually head back home for summer but I figured I would get my gen ed’s out the way.”

“We all had the same idea I suppose,” you contributed.

“It’s better than being here for a whole extra semester,” she played mindlessly with the zippers on her backpack.

“What about you guys?” he asked, “is this your first summer here.”

Your friend quickly began recounting her endless summer adventures from years prior. . far far away from campus. Jungkook nodded and they both reflected on the forsaken summer ahead. Deflated at the exceeding number of voyages they’ll be missing while condemned to remain on campus.

You couldn’t help but wonder about the things you had kept from yourself. . A lot perhaps.

With the company of the scorching heat of the summer months daylight savings time lurked right behind it—providing the longevity of the sun, as the Earth seems to lean a bit closer to the star and decrease its speed in rotation.

And here you were melting away by the very sun. Unbeknownst to the so-called wonders of the summertime. Barred from any of the memories everyone seemed to be defined by: the best months of the year, the best moments of your life they’d say.

While enthralled in your own thoughts you heard your friend’s voice though it was a bit muffled, still you were able to make out what she said, “Ellie is over there. I’m gonna go say hi. You two talk okay?”

Jungkook chuckled softly. Why would she say that? Ugh, she made it weird. She definitely made it weird.

“Is she always like this?” he asked, leaning a bit closer in your direction and although he still remained in his chair at a considerable distance, you could feel the waves of his body heat crashing against you.

“Always,” there was a hint of nervousness stained on your tongue but you swallowed it down. Or at least tried to, “life’s never boring when she’s around.”

“You guys been friends long?” he asked, gis voice still vibrated in your inner ear, sounding like the beat of drums. It truly did frazzle your nerves.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for a bit.”

He nodded. Simply soaking in what you’ve said—there was nothing else to say but you urged to hear the strumming of his sweet words just once more.

“What about you,” you clasped your balmy hands on top of the table, “you got any friends around here?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded, “I have a couple. We all live near each other back home too so I’m never allowed a moment of peace.”

“Seems like we’re kind of living under the same pretenses.”

“Seems like it. Maybe, we could escape away together one day.”

Together? Did he just say together? As in the both of you, on the same route. . Intentionally, while in each other’s company?

The silence between the two of you was deafening, you became nearly incompetent; unable to communicate anything corrigible. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your throat became dry. So fucking dry.

“Or-“ he began, seemingly taken back by your lack of verbal communication.

“Yes,” you finally said, “I’d like that very much.”

“You promise?”

“One day.”

The first week of research class was slow. . repetitive and you couldn’t help the way your thoughts wandered off to your conversation with Jungkook the first day of class. How you promised each other one day—Just one day but that was as far as it has gone so far.

Even though, in that moment, you couldn’t feel farther away from him.

You’d barely uttered a word to each other but the patented ‘hello’ and ‘bye’ but that was the extent of it. There had been nothing else. Plus he no longer sat near, he was three tables away with his friend, Namjoon who had switched in on day two of class.

You couldn’t ignore the ping in your heart when you walked in that day and you saw him that far away—You could no longer spark up nuisance conversations, or sneak glances when you pretended to write your notes or have the sweetness of his vanilla scent inundating your nostrils.

It has all gone to shit. With fervent frustration you trotted up the stairs to your dorm on the second floor. Looking forward to laying in the comfort of your bed until you have to physically peel yourself away from your sheets.

The first strike was pitched the moment you pulled out your key card from the back pocket of your jeans and it immediately hit the floor. Conducting a string of breathing exercises to ease your rising vexation you picked up the card once more and took a deep breath before sliding it into the reader. The world was pitted against you that day though, because as soon as you retrieved the card and reached for the knob the electronic lock dinged and flashed its red light.

You tried again and again and again—all your attempts leading to the same result. Until finally your irritation ran rampant through your veins and you continuously banged on your door with your balled fists as if that would have made a difference. There was no one on the other side who could possibly rescue you, your only solution lived in the student center. . Visiting the very booth occupied by a certain boy who lived in your heart and mind.

“Oh c’mon, not today,” you mumbled leaning against the cold wooden door, “fucking Monday’s are always shit.”

The way to the student center was not long at all but your calves were torched with the amount of walking you’d already done for the day. Luckily, as you pulled the door open the hallways were vacant which meant there were no lines and most importantly no waiting.

“Finally, this damned day might just be turning around,” you mumbled to yourself.

You walked down the corridor, entered the second to last room and there he was sitting behind the rectangle frame carved into the wall. Jungkook’s chin rested on his palm. His long strands were left in a disarray but it made it work. He truly did. The rest of his body was hidden behind the tall desk but even from your position near the door you could see the collar of his black t-shirt. Even as the bell on top of the door chimed his attention was consumed by the brightly lit screen laid out in front of him.

“Hi,” he greeted, not looking up in the direction of the door once, “welcome to card and ID services. How may I help you?”

“Is this how you greet all the students who pop in here?” you teased with what you recalled to be your most idiotic smile plastered on your face.

He chortled finally realizing who it was, “if I would’ve known it was you I would have given you my undivided attention from the moment you walked in.”

Realizing you stood without your friend as a shield for conversations, you swallowed your nervousness. “You say a lot but I bet you don’t mean half of what comes out of your mouth.”

“I live by codes of honesty, doll.”

There was a stumble in your step as soon as you heard the pet name he uttered through your laptop screen all those nights ago. The same one that had you lured under his spell, in a disarray of emotions, whimpering babbles of nothing at all and everything all at once.

“Whatever you say, Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m actually here for a reason, not just for your charms and to see a pretty face.”

“Charms and a pretty face huh?” he smirked.

“Anyway,” you diverted the conversation away from your inane choice of words, “I’m actually here because I can’t open my dorm door with this thing anymore.”

“Is it working though?”

“No,” you slid the card over to him on the surface of the desk. You were hoping to get a peak of his tattoos as he reached out for it but he wore a hoodie. “it isn’t working like. . at all.”

“Actually, I was talking about my charismatic personality and dashing good looks.” His annoying and compelling magnetism had you in conflict between wanting to smack him upside the head or suck his dick behind the counter. “According to you of course.”

“Let’s table the cockiness for now and focus on the actual problem taking root,” you tapped your fingers in the plastic rectangular key.

Jungkook smiled and took the plastic key before sitting back on his office chair and typing away purposely into his keyboard. Even under the shitty lighting of this holed up office space his attractiveness was evident.

“How did you even manage to fuck up your card this bad?” he asked, not really demanding an answer but you shrugged anyway, “the computer won’t even read it.”

“I really have no idea.”

“This is gonna cost you, you know” his eyes still remained on the screen.

“I thought this shit was free?” you argued, “don’t we pay enough tuition to cover a little damaged keycard. I should’ve just broken my way in.”

Jungkook simply shook his head whilst dragging his chair back towards the printer to fetch your card.

“Consider that we’re very well acquainted classmates. Can you please deduct fifty-percent from what you were going to charge?”

“Well acquainted classmates?” His expression was hard to read but if you had to guess he seemed a bit hurt. . perhaps offended. But you could also just be misreading the situation. “And here I thought we were really good friends.”

“Aren’t they synonymous?”

“Not to me,” he held the new card towards you only to pull it back when you reached for it.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes at him. “We’re friends. Great friend actually.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds a bit disingenuous,” he sat back on his chair still holding your key hostage.

You scoffed. “And how would you possibly know that?”

“I can read people.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

He smirked, “I can always just show you how well I can read people.”

The intent behind his words was blurred behind thick lines and while you genuinely thought he wanted to plead his case, you couldn’t help but feel like there were hints of temptation behind his promise.

It actually took you a bit off guard—though, not really. Jungkook, like JK, (his alter ego?) was a concoction of sensuality and comfort. He is the personification of sweetness and while that was a fact he also had a player persona and he was driven by flirtatious mannerism.

The perfect combination of two.

“Is this how you spend most of your day? Harassing all of the girls who come by to get their keycards fixed.”

“Harrasing is such an ugly word,” he smiled. That stupid that was so compelling it actually drew you closer and closer to him. “Besides you’re the only one I like to fuck around with.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” he repeated in a hushed tone, placing your card on the wooden surface while his hand remained on top of it, swallowing it whole under his palm. “If you really wanna test your luck I want to offer a proposition.”

“What would that proposal entail?” You removed his palm and finally grabbed the card, shoving it in your back pocket. You tried to hide it but the feeling of your fingers meeting his ignited sparks to crackle in the pit of your stomach and instantly you were blinded by bright lights, perhaps fireworks.

“One day, remember?” Jungkook’s eyes are mesmeric, stroked with intricate detail, dabbed with a tone of cafè noir, glossed over as a final coat offering a shiny layer.

“One day, yes,” you confirmed taking yourself back to your conversation on day one, “you offered to take me around and show the beauty of summer. Everything I’ve been missing apparently.”

Jungkook shook his head light-heartedly. “Right. I was just wondering if we could upgrade the singular term to plural.”

“What do you mean?”

“One day,” he repeated. “Can we change that to a couple of days instead?”

Days. . This implies that you’ll be spending days with Jungkook? This felt like a cultivation of your own personal heaven. Initially, when he proposed the idea to you back in class a seed had been planted in your head, slowly blooming a flower which swayed briskly the more you thought about Jungkook and being able to ever spend time alone with him.

“You know I didn’t actually think you meant any of it,” you lied, you believed him or at least you wanted to.

“Did I not just say I’m a man of honesty?”

“Apparently that’s your morale code, right?” you raised your eyebrow at his claims of integrity.

“Of course, it is.” He confirmed, “don’t sound so surprised please.”

“Not surprised. Just absorbing all of this newfound information.”

“Absorbing sounds a lot like mocking.”

“Mocking is such an ugly word,” you teased.

“Ha—ha, very funny,” he uttered jokingly accompanied by a rumbling fake laugh, “you know what’s not funny?”

“What?” you tilted your head slightly with a smug smile painted on your lips.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I do?” you hummed.

“You really strive to puncture my ego don’t you?” his gaze was set on you intently, his dark orbs read you slowly from head to toe. It made your palms balmy and you could feel a tremble taking route at your lower extremities.

Walking towards the door your shaky hand reached for the handle and opening it before turning back one last time. “The answer is yes.” You walked out although you heard a string of questions following right behind you, all of them left unanswered.

Yesterday was Friday, which meant today was Saturday. You knew that. You were competent enough to map out the days of the week accordingly. . Still, you weren’t quite sure why you heard an alarm blare through the walls of your dorm at six in the morning, startling you right out of the comfort of your slumber. Now, just thirty minutes past seven after rushing your morning routine thinking you’d ‘late for class’ you sat in bed showered with no real plans for the day ahead.

Your bowl of instant oatmeal was now empty and sitting on the nightstand beside your bed.

Navigating through the multitude of apps on your laptop was not as entertaining as you once perceived and although it did ease your boredom for a bit. Now you sat with the base panel sticking to your thighs staring at the home screen with nothing else to probe into.

“Come on,” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper, once again he seems to have invaded your thoughts, “I know you wanna visit me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t need to visit the student center today.”

“You know what I’m talking about, doll,” the words bounced in your head, “I know you remember.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your attempt at trying to vanish him from your mind entirely. But even if you hated to admit it you couldn’t help but crave that feeling of him being here even if it was through the building blocks of your own imagination—It just felt so real. The heat of his presence felt so real and truly you just wanted to be consumed by it.

“Last time, I visited you. . You were a little busy.”

“That was last time,” he laid back sinking into the softness of your mattress and pillows, “I promise I’m all yours today.”

His commands were like the songs of sirens inching you closer to the very spot where he wanted you to be. Very easily you typed in the name of the website you’d grown very familiar with on the browser and quickly clicked on the last messages between the two of you — he was online and without indication of being in another session. That’s a good sign.

Yeah.

You can call.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard without indication on how to approach a conversation because for one you wanted to speak to him but it was also eight in the morning and Eargasm was a simple gateway to an orgasm. Not to mention, you’d be talking to JK not Jungkook and while the two were the same person they were also different.

BunnyBoy98 is typing…

Fancy seeing you

back here ;)

You quite literally could not move.

Have you missed

me?

Please. Don’t flatter

yourself.

It’s not flattery.

Last I recall, I

did make you cum.

My fingers did that.

Not you.

Who was the guiding

voice though?

Right.

Don’t you ever

forget it, doll.

Is there a reason

you messaged me?

I like that about

you, you know.

What?

Your bluntness.

It reminds me of

someone I know.

It’s hot.

There’s someone else? Someone who occupies his thoughts regularly it seems. Your heart felt heavier as the sharp blade pierced right through it leaving behind a vast hole and an incurable wound. You weren’t really sure why but it hurt so bad.

But you knew it should not. His job required sparking up conversations with dozens of girls on a daily basis and helping at least a dozen more find their culmination.

You cannot feel anything.

Thinking of other girls

in my presence? Shame

on you BunnyBoy.

Sorry, doll.

I promise right

now is all about you.

But we seem to have

started on the wrong

foot. How can we fix

that, BunnyBoy?

Use me as you

please.

As you read his request there was a shift in the atmosphere. Sort of like what you felt back in back that first day, where you were briefly dreaming inside of a dream or like what you imagined it would feel like if the Earth ever slammed down on its brakes coming to an abrupt halt. Actually, you were sitting in a massive slingshot just waiting to be catapulted into space — it was all too grand to minimize into coherent thoughts, too great to be reality.

But it was and you were pulled right out of your own illusion when the phone call icon began vibrating repeatedly signaling there was an incoming call.

While your head was still swimming among the cottony clouds your fingers somehow managed to hit the green button on the call from JK popping up on your screen.

“I was beginning to become hopeless,” his voice was so distinctive the minute he began talking your skin became covered in goosebumps.

“Why were you becoming hopeless?” To this day, you wondered how you were able to point him out even in a crowd just by his voice and he’s yet to identify yours. Perhaps, that is exactly the reason why you were so comfortable speaking to him here — and adopting the confident persona you lack in real life.

“When I call there’s usually an answer just by the first ring.”

“Things are different today, BunnyBoy,” you laid down and placed the laptop on the pillow right beside your head. “I make the requests today, remember?”

You were nervous and you weren’t quite sure just how much of this you could actually pull off but you were willing to try just to show him a good time.

“It’s your turn to tell me what you desire most,” you tried to maintain a whisper to your tone. Not only was that your go-to interpretation of seductiveness but it was also really fucking early in the morning and the last thing you needed was to be the dirty talk alarm for your dorm neighbors.

“I like to be the gateway to heaven.”

“Elaborate.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snickered. Of course, he was referring to the art of making someone orgasm and he was right you were all too familiar with it. . Especially coming from him.

“What is it that you like so much about it?”

“It’s just an addicting feeling. I don’t really know how to put it into words,” you could tell he was talking through a wide grin, “it’s such a vulnerable moment for most people but I can’t help but drink the other person in entirely until I’m drunk off the antics and mannerism of their orgasm.”

“You get off by getting other people off?”

“I guess that’s an easier way to explain it.”

“So do I need to get off to help you get off right now?”

He huffed out a small breath, “Is that what you want, doll. To help me?”

You hummed, crumbling and failing to come up with any words at the mention of the nickname he’d attached to you.

“I can dig into my memories, you know. There’s so much about you I remember,” Again, you couldn’t see him but you could sense the smirk right through the microphone, “I know you kept your screen off but the sounds you made were enough to have me touching myself every second of everyday for days on end.”

The sensation of your walls clenching around nothing was taunting and the stream flowing right through the fabric of your panties just piled up on the mountain of frustration. You were miles away from the peak as you trotted up slowly but your thoughts remained on him.

“It’s like an audio file on loop. Your whimpers, and moans and the soft utters of my name. Fuck. The mixture became an ideal composition to the perfect ballad,” he confessed through a string of soft pants, “and then the way you pushed your fingers past your lips just to savor the taste of yourself. You really drove me to insanity.”

Your body felt as light as a feather and you could’ve sworn you were levitating right above your mattress you just couldn’t open your eyes to prove it. Instead, your tanktop was pushed below your breasts and your finger began its trail on your clit rubbing slow circles.

“JK, ima need you to shut the fuck up right now,” you were breathless with a hint of desperation. Ready to lose yourself in his voice, but you couldn’t, “shut up—“ you repeated, “this is not how it’s supposed to go today.”

“You say that,” he cooed, “but how come I can tell you’ve already begun to touch yourself?”

You pulled your hand from yourself, repelling away from the gravitational pull forcing you to reach back down between the warmth of your thighs. “You don’t know that and I was not touching myself.”

“You were and I’m 100-percent sure of it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t worry, doll. You’ve done more than enough to get me where I need to be,” he hissed.

Realistically speaking this was the goal—Your goal for the day. But the reality of Jungkook’s whine sounding near the shell of your ear made you imagine things that weren’t even there for the third time in the past few weeks.

And there he was, beside you once again, with his cock springing out from above the hem of his shorts. It was longer; bigger than you’d imagined but he made use of his veiny hands moving up and down his length with a hastened pace. Quickly working his way right into an orgasm.

“Tell me how it feels, JK,” you rubbed your legs together in search of some ease — perhaps to ignore the pain or the desirous sting threading dangerously near to overwhelmingness but it wasn’t helping. You reach out for one of the decorative cushions sitting on your bed and quickly rid yourself of your panties hiking your skirt up past your belly button. You weren’t quite sure what came over you but looking over at ‘JK’ laying beside you began swaying your hips against the cotton cushion to match his exact pace.

“Fuck—“ you squealed.

“Oh, doll,” he let out a rasp groan, “t-that’s exactly what I needed. Keep going please. I’m so close.”

Minutes went by since the two of you began exchanging the alluring songs escaping each of your lips. It was an orchestra of pleasure and you kept at it until your whines combined with his grunts signaled the peak of your actions.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed out, “I’ve never done that before.”

“What?”

“This has never happened during one of my sessions.”

You smiled, “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

“Visit me more often,” he said, “I mean it. Don’t wait another two weeks.”

“I’ll be back. Don’t worry Jung—JK,” you cleared your throat as an attempt to mask your almost massive fuck up. Hopefully he didn’t hear.

“I’ll be here.”

“Bye.”

The call was disconnected. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Not again.

Hours passed since your very interesting morning with Jungkook or should you say JK. It was closer to late night and you sat on a bench just outside the library with the luminous ray of the moon singling you out like a spotlight. You were tired and just like the moon sat without any stars surrounding it to keep it company you chose to be here, alone; secluded just for a little while. You needed it.

The night hadn’t begun this way. Not at all.

Your friend had texted you hours prior letting you know that a couple of people from research class had noticed a mini research project due for that Monday. And like any other group of panicked college students you all grabbed your shit and ran to the library to get the work done. Back then, you didn’t know that by ‘a few people from research class’ she also meant Jungkook.

While you could feel a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach, there were also those pressing nerves. You know, the ones that make your hands tremble, your tongue feel heavy inside of your mouth and your palms balmy all together.

It was a variation of your own personal heaven and hell.

“May I know why you’re out here sitting all by yourself,” there weren’t winds strong enough to make you shiver the way his voice had just now.

Would he recognize your voice from this morning? Maybe he would. You pressed your hands against the wooden bench and took a deep breath.

It’s gonna be okay. You chanted. It’s going to be okay.

“Oh, I’m done with the project and I just needed a bit of fresh air,” you waved your hands around in an attempt to point at the library but you ended up pointing in the opposite direction, “it was just too hot in there.”

“Yeah. .” He slouched down and placed his head on the back rest, “I needed out too.”

“Did you get to finish?”

“I did,” he laughed, “I chose the effects of tattoos in the workplace.”

“Ha—“ you guffawed, shaking your head, “I’m sure you meant to make a statement.”

“Of course, doll.” There it was again. The effects it had on you were so grand meanwhile he just brushed right past it like absolutely nothing.

“How many tattoos do you have anyway?”

He rolled his sleeve up revealing his arm all the way up to his bicep, “I lost count after filing in the gaps for my sleeve but I’ll confidently say I’m well over thirty.”

“You must have all of the secrets to pain tolerance,” you stared at the art pieces adoring his honey skin.

“I would say I have it more under control now than I ever did before,” his head turned towards you and his dark eyes pierced your soul, “I almost cried during my first one though. Hurt so fucking bad I had to keep taking breaks.”

“Which one was it?”

He brought his arm up and showed you the flower sitting right on his right elbow.

“Can I?” That was your way of asking if it was okay for you to touch it without having to actually say it.

“Yeah.”

Your fingertips traced the small orange flower along with its surroundings which sprawled out into a larger floral design. Sparks of electric currents traveled from your fingers as they remained in contact with his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too but you were too afraid to ask.

“Did you get it shaded and colored in one go?”

“I couldn’t,” he shuddered, likely remembering that very day at the tattoo shop, “hurts just thinking about it.”

“But then you went and got a whole sleeve?”

“I guess I’m still fond of a bit of pain.”

“That’s psychotic.”

“Maybe,” he closed his eyes lightly, as a cheeky wide-toothed grin formed on his lips. That was the last of your interaction for a bit, the two of you just sat back in silence enjoying the serenity of the night. But of course, silence seemed to be a burden on Jungkook’s behalf because it didn’t really last too long. “Hey, you wanna go get ice cream? I hear the shop just off campus is open late.”

“Is this the kick start to your summer itinerary for me?”

“Could be. . if you want it to.”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

With a stunned expression your friend watched as Jungkook followed behind you, into the library to collect your belongings only to see you exit with him once more. Even though the windows you saw as her mouth remained agape as you disappeared into the night with the man that occupied so much of your heart and mind.

Seconds after you felt your phone vibrate continuously in your back pocket. Knowing it was probably just her with an abundance of prying questions you ignored it for now instead choosing to focus on the paved road ahead you. There are so many beautiful things to admire at this time of night — the way the bright green leaves sway with the cool breeze on the branches they’d call home for the duration of the summer, there was also the way the brightness of the street light illuminated the way to your destination. There were no lone frigid gusts whispering their way through the city, instead there was the buzzing chatter of on-goers bringing the streets back to life.

Jungkook and you occupied the sidewalk taking in every scene, every conversation, every person, every detail in your way and just as you neared the little ice cream shop you saw the way his doe eyes lit up at the vibrant shade of pink on the concrete walls.

“What should I get you?” You sat on one of the small tables lined up on the sidewalks just a few feet away from the shop.

“Chocolate please,” you pulled out your wallet just as he placed his hand on top of yours and shook his head.

“I invited you, didn't I?”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Across from you at another small table you spotted a couple seemingly on their first day. You could tell because the girl as beautiful as she was, she wore the same gitters you did. The way her fingers trembled whenever the boy across from her inched his hand closer to hers.

She wore the exact same gitters you did but you were not here on a date. You were merely an acquaintance. Someone Jungkook knew in passing — likely to become someone he once knew once this charade of wanting to show you around for the summer was over.

“Are you always this deep in your own thoughts?” Jungkook sat across from you on the table and handed you the wafer cone with two chocolate scoops.

“Not always. .” you took a swift lick of your ice cream, “sometimes is probably a bit more accurate though.”

“May I ask why that is?”

“There are too many things dancing around in my head to figure out the steps to,” you began playing around with the edge of the napkins laid out on the table.

“Do any of those pressing thoughts have to do with your shit taste in ice cream flavors?” The dimples on his rosey cheeks were scaled to your meter of comfort and you couldn’t help but reciprocate his cheerful manner.

“Shit?” you sneered, “if we’re talking shit, strawberry is definitely first on the list.”

“Strawberry ice cream tastes like actual strawberries. Now please tell me what chocolate ice cream tastes ‘cause it is certainly not chocolate.”

“Bullshit. It does taste like chocolate.”

“Now, that's bullshit,” he continued, savoring his frozen dessert. “Will you ever tell me why you despise the summertime so much?”

“I do not despise it. I just—“ you sighed, “there are just experiences that simply do not wash away with the currents of the beach waves.”

“That’s awfully poetic.”

“I like to dramatize my life experiences.”

“I won’t make you elaborate. I will, however, smother you with my favorite activities until you have no choice but to fall in love with the season,” he strapped his backpack on and called over to you, “you ready?”

Whoever said spinning around on the roundabout after devouring an entire cone of ice cream was a good idea — was wrong. Of course, Jungkook’s ideas of the perfect summer night were made up of late night escapees, sweets and indigestion.

Jungkook, the culprit in this entire scheme plopped down on the multi-colored metal surface, clearly out of breath after having spun you so fast the heavens were now where the ground once used to be.

“You are the worst,” you laid down on the roundabout, eyes closed, swallowing down the nausea creeping up the back of your throat, “if I puke. . It is entirely on you.”

“Last I recall, you’re the one who wanted to be spun around on this thing.”

“Yes.” You continued taking deep breaths, “keyword spin not attempt to blast me off into the Milky Way.”

“You are such a drama queen.”

“There is nothing dramatic about the way my head is spinning right now,” you felt his shower brush against yours — he was now laying beside you. You opened your eyes slightly, turning your head in his direction, “are there now three of you?”

“Here,” he raised a hand to your face, “how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two?” you lied. He had all five fingers up.

“I know you see my whole hand is sitting right in front of your face right now,” he rolled his eyes.

“Actually, I don’t. That’s why I said two,” you stuck your tongue out at him before redirecting your attention back to the sky. “Do you think the moon ever gets lonely up there?”

Jungkook followed your line of vision to the sky above where the moon still sat all by itself, “I’ve never actually thought about it but I think everything and everyone can feel lonely once in a while.”

“I think I’m like the moon.”

His voice was soft, “in what way?”

“I guess—“ you battled with all the words crashing against each other in your brain, “in the sense that compared to Earth and most planets, the moon is so small right?”

“Yes.”

“I just feel like that. You know? Like a single grain of sand in a sandbox — feels like I’m an ant in a world of giants.”

“While it is true that the moon is fairly small in comparison to most of the planets in our solar system,” he began. “It is also a beacon of light. Without the moon our nights would be composed of utter darkness, the ocean tides would fall and the course of the life we know would be altered. Without the moon our lives would be shit.”

“Right.”

“Small yet consequential. You get that?”

“I do.”

You told no fib. His words were a warm blanket of solace wrapping itself tightly around your figure — serving as a shield, protecting you from anything that could perforate through your being; your soul.

Your parents had always been the main assailants in the attacks you had experienced throughout your life. After your brother walked away from home they pushed you aside, neglected you and left you to raise yourself. They were never there for birthdays or the holidays or summer vacations or even just regular days. You were a thirteen year old girl alone not being able to decipher why all of their grief from your brother’ abandonment came at the expense of the love they claimed to have had for you.

All your life you tried to work out if you’d done anything wrong but you finally see that it wasn’t you. Their neglect was based on their inability to be parents before anything else.

So yes, you were like the moon. Small yet consequential.

Jungkook’s pinky brushed up against yours slightly as he traced random shapes on your skin; sort of like asking permission before actually holding your hand. You looked at each other and before you knew it he wrapped his hand to yours. The warmth radiating from him was soothing and like nothing you’ve ever felt before. If you were sure of one thing — it’s you never wanted him to let go.

You just wanted to stay there with him in that moment forever.

“Jungkook, you better shake off all that sand out here or you are forbidden from entering my room,” you threatened, which only resulted in a mischievous grin from the man and the sand to go flying in your direction as he purposely tried to get it on you.

“Is that all better?”

You snorted, brushing off any of the remaining sand he did get in you, “you are so mean.”

A week of summer adventures had graced your life for the better — Jungkook had burdened himself with the mission to get you to enjoy the wonders of the scorching summer months and he was succeeding. You have enjoyed all of it thus far. Even having the ocean sand in places where the sun doesn’t shine.

The schedule doesn’t cease and while your platonic relationship with Jungkook blossomed though you couldn’t completely shut out the feelings that sent your heart into a frenzy whenever he was near. You like him so bad, but your friendship with him was like a gem, a rare gem and you wouldn’t trade that for anything on this entire planet.

“You know what’s weird?” Jungkook walked out from the bathroom just as you finished getting dressed. One towel hugged his waist, while the other he used to dry his hair.

“Jungkook?” you yelped, “clothes.”

“Oh, come on, you saw all of this at the beach,” he pointed at his sculpted physique. You did and you were almost sent into cardiac arrest then — what makes him think you’d be any better off within the congested walls of your room. He was feet away near the bathroom door but it felt like he was just beside you.

“Whatever. .” you turned around trying to keep yourself busy with something else, something that did not involve gawking at him. “This wall—“ he noticed you weren’t looking, “this wall right above your bed it looks so fucking familiar.”

“Jungkook, you’ve been in here about a dozen times in the past week,” your body stiffened as you felt a nauseating flutter in your stomach.

“You’re right . .” your back was still turned towards him but you could hear the floorboards creak as he inched closer, “but that right there only confirms it. There’s also your voice, that birthmark sitting right below your bottom lip and not to mention your nail polish you always keep the exact same shade.”

“Jungkook—“

“Not very clever I’d say,” his chin rested on the nook of your neck, “especially we ended on becoming this close.”

You wanted to say something — anything but you couldn’t actually speak.

“After our first time on Eargasm together,” he whispered into your ear, “do you know how much I thought of you? Your voice was the only thing that has played in my head since then. I wanted. . needed to meet you. The girl behind the black screen.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since the day you went to get your card fixed at the student center,” he continued, “your voice is soft, euphonic, harmonious, even when you’re cumming. It’s easy to distinguish.”

You shuddered as a result of his dulcet praise, “I’m so transparent but your tattoos ratted you out especially the snake sitting right below your wrist.”

“Problem is I wasn’t trying to hide, doll.”

“You didn’t care?”

“I didn’t care.”

Turning around the two of you remained face to face examining even the tiniest of details within one another. The pale red tint on the apple of his cheeks matched the tone of his lips almost perfectly.

His lips . . they were so inviting. You were sluggishly levitating towards him before his words slammed at your brakes.

“I think we should get going,” Jungkook said standing by the door holding his keys out to you. Was he kicking you out of your own dorm? “You wanna wait for me in the car? I’ll be right down.”

“Uh—“ you were a bit taken back with disappointment and just a bit of confusion. Was he really oblivious to it? “Yeah, that sounds fine. Don’t be long.”

A million thoughts scrambled your brain on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car as your eyes drifted off toward the sun disappearing into the horizon. Love was never your forte but if you were sure of one thing it’s that what you felt although unspoken was evident; crystal clear more so. So you replayed what had happened in your room time and time again to decipher when it all had gone to shit. Perhaps, he was in fact still angry about you knowing it was him all along. . But you’d apologized when joined you in the car and he reassured you that it was fine and he wasn’t mad.

Looking back towards the driver seat, Jungkook remained with one hand on the wheel and his eyes glued to the road ahead. Not a word escaped his lips. Why is it so difficult to figure out what men are thinking?

Once you arrived at the drive-in movie theater, Jungkook parked and quickly dismissed himself to buy snacks while you tried to find the station provided to be able to hear the movie and finally you did.

“Okay,” Jungkook opened the car door, taking his previous seat back on the driver’s side, “I got popcorn, cherry slushies and a bunch of gummies. I just guessed on everything hoping it wasn’t a complete miss.”

“Of course I like these. Thank you, Jungkook.” You’d like anything he brought back for you simply because it came from him, “You know, I thought this style of movie watching ceased to exist after the 90s.”

“Yeah, I guess there was a decline in popularity after the 90s. Now, in some places it is once again sought out as a popular summer activity.”

“That is evident,” you looked around at the packed lot out in front of you. You guys scored the very last spot in the very last row, “Do you come here often?” Only you knew the real undertones of that question. ‘Do you bring other girls here often?’ This is what you actually meant.

“Not often,” he took a sip of his slushie

“Not often,” you repeated under your breath with a residue of bitterness left in your tastebuds. You weren’t sure if your drinking had grown pungent or if his words simply landed a punch in your gut triggering your acid reflux.

Patience, patience and endurance. You’d neared your limit for both while your heart continued its call for Jungkook but he simply could not hear. Was he really oblivious to it? You wondered once again. Was the wailing just white noise to him . . Non-existent? Could he not hear it as loudly as you could? Because to you it was all you could hear, the only thing you could pay mind to. To you the movie was long gone and all you wanted was for him to notice you. Not simply as friends, but to embrace what you knew he briefly felt for you back at the dorm. To actually see you.

“Are you okay?” his hand slowly moved to shove some more popcorn into his mouth. His words were slack, almost as if he’d been put to function in slow motion, “do you not like the movie?”

You couldn’t care less about the fucking movie. “The movie is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Was that concern in his voice? “I can get you something else from the snack bar,“ he reached for the handle, “let ne get you a water.“

“No,“ you held his wrist, “just stay please.”

“The snack bar is less than ten steps away. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“I don’t want you to go.” You weren’t sure you were being clear so you tried your best to elaborate, “I know technically left my own room earlier but I didn’t want to and now I do not want you to go.”

You heaved feeling the pace of your quickening heart beating your chest. Then mumbled, “I left only because you asked me to but I wanted to stay with you.”

His eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to unscramble your inept confession. Soon his chocolate eyes dilated realizing the weight of your words.

“Like?” He asked, allowing his silence to fill in the gaps.

“Yes,” you confessed. “I wanted to stay in my room with you and spend the night together.”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. Truthfully, I wanted you to stay but I didn’t want to overstep after we talked about the Eargasm thing,” He turned his head away from his hands gripping the steering wheel towards you in the passenger seat.

“I like you. I’ve liked you before Eargasm Jungkook,” you could’ve sworn the sky began plummeting down on you while you just sat amongst the deafening silence, with your heart poured out before you — and still Jungkook said nothing, “Uh, you know what forget I ever. .” you paused taking another look in his direction but Jungkook simply hid behind wide eyes, “actually, no. Scratch that. I like you but I’ll be okay.”

“You are much braver than me, you know,” he spoke quietly, “a lot of my life I’ve lived hidden behind JK and though he is my other half he is not truly who I am. He is much more courageous than I’ll ever be but you were brave so I know I owe you a reciprocation of the same transparency. I’ve liked you from the moment I walked into class that very first day and I’ve only fallen for you harder with each passing day.”

“Jungkook.”

He hummed.

“Kiss me.”

In the matter of seconds the two of you climbed over to the back seat — the clashing of your body heat drew sweat beads to cascade down your temples. Your attention was far off that though, instead you were lulled by the softness of his silken lips pressed against yours. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeat in the way your bodies were pressed so tightly against each other. His palm resided by your waist as he continued tugging at your top.

He pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, “are you sure you want to do this here?”

You looked around feeling locked in by the tint of Jungkook’s car windows, “I’m sure.”

Before your back could meet his leather seat, Jungkook began pulling your panties down and pushing your denim skirt up past your belly button. Jungkook was always gentle whether it was with his words or his touch, that was the truth, and today was no different.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook’s usual dove eyes were now burning with hunger — desire. His hands rested on your knees and he began spreading your legs farther and farther away from each other causing your underwear to become soaked. You hadn’t really noticed how spacious the back of his car was until now, until he kneeled in front of you. His fingers traced the outline of your thighs as he reached under your skirt quickly pulling your panties down to your ankles.

You closed your eyes, melting back into the seat. The feeling came in waves you quickly realized. First, there was the anticipation as your body urged him to touch your body but he only allowed his digits to cloud over your cunt. Then, there was the taunting of his teasing touch where he would drag the pads of his fingers along your folds — a touch so agonizing you found yourself driving your hips against him for some relief.

“Come on, doll,” Jungkook cooed as two of his fingers sat at your entrance with no intention of moving, “I thought you were more patient than this.”

“I’ll be good,” you heaved, “I promise.”

“Promise?” He pushed past the muscle of your entrance quickly invading your insides and in that moment you could’ve sworn you were no longer in his car — instead you lived amongst the celestial body of lumineers lighting the night sky. Words poured out of you in the form of profanities featured by the moans you couldn’t seem to suppress the quicker he pumped in and out of you.

That was it. That feeling. You held on as if your life depended on it. There was nothing, nothing else that could claim your attention the way Jungkook was at that very moment.

“Oh, right there,” your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he reached the very spot in your insides which blurred your vision and caused your legs to shake just a bit, “j-just keep going right there.”

His lips quickly landed on yours for a kiss so torrid you could taste the remnants of his cherry chapstick on your tongue. Enveloped by the overstimulation of the kiss and his fingers inside of you, the remaining piece of string which held you together snapped and behind your eyelids all you saw were spots of flashing white lights.

“Jungkook. .” You waited just a moment to catch your breath before patting the seat right beside you, “come sit with me. Unwind.”

“It’s hard to think of anything else when you’re sitting right beside me looking like that,” he hummed, “ all fucked out when I’ve only fingered you.”

“Just. . trust me,” As soon as he sat you placed your hand on his chest climbing onto his lap placing your legs on either side of his, “will you do that?”

“I trust you.”

Even the mess Jungkook had already created in between your thighs you felt that concupiscent armor burning deep inside of you — it was like a wildfire you couldn’t extinguish. Jungkook’s hands landed on your waist, his grip was sweaty against your skin, he began you forward and backward on his lap. And you began reciprocating that movement at a rhythm equivalent to his.

The temperature continued to rise within the enclosure of his car and a mixture of his rough grunts and your pleased hums began to fill the space. His clothed cock and your bare clit continued to meet in the filthiest of ways yet you couldn't resist but cry out for more. You craved more.

“I-I need you, Jungkook,” you whimpered.

If you thought you’d known pleasure before there was nothing compared to the way Jungkook’s massive cock felt inside your walls. It’s as if his dick was personally crafted to slip into you. God, he wasn’t moving a single muscle — you weren’t either and still you couldn’t help the countless moans dripping right off your lips.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “can I move?”

“Please,” you cried out.

In being the embodiment of sin, Jungkook embraced his mercilessness as a result of your yelp when his cock rammed into you with a drawn out yet deep thrust. As he slipped in and out if you saw the way he almost pulled out entirely only to guide you back down harshly on his length. Over and over and over. Your head lulled back and you were sure your rolled eyes could recite the contents of the inside of your skull.

“D-don’t stop,” you choked out, placing a hand on the hood for support as Jungkook continued to have you at his mercy, “I’m so close.”

You couldn’t really see in the midst of the pleasure coursing through you but you could feel the way his warm lips landed kisses around your breasts while his hands caressed your sides.

“P-please don’t stop,” the car began moving along with his pace and you were sure the others around you were now aware of the events unfolding right beside them. But you didn’t fucking care. Jungkook’s hand reached down in between your thighs near the exact point where his length disappeared inside of you, and he began stimulating your clit — drawing out small circles. You were shaking with pleasure spilling a string of curses. This continued until you finally reached your peak through screams of his name and your juices coating his cock while he poured into you.

“Fuck,” you cried out sweetly as he pulled out, “that was amazing.”

“It was better than amazing.”

You laid your back against him as he wrapped you up in his warm embrace. The two of you were warm and sweaty, “so what’s on the itinerary for tomorrow?” You asked.

“We’ll go anywhere you wanna go. Together.”

“Together,” you smiled.

a/n: this is mildly edited sooo . . . thread lightly for any mistakes lol. Also, the smut is pretty average but my brain wasn’t working so sorry about that in advance <3

🔖: @shaybtsfoever @bjoriis @sharkipoonis @hoseokteardrop @ravensidea @skzthinker @cherryluvhobi

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#bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #brief mention of tae namjoon and mr. kim aka kim seokjin #bts jungkook smut

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