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#jungkook angst
jungkxook · a year ago
—melomaniac. (m)
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melomaniac ⟶ ❝ lover of music ❞
⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader
⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / friends-to-lovers + smut
⟶ words: 13,000
⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.
⟶ warnings: coarse language, extreme mutual pining but knowing it’s wrong, tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty fluff / smut: needy clingy sex, slight body worship themes, oral sex, overstimulation, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming-ish.
⟶ disclaimer: this was a revamp of two old fics I had posted on tumblr on another blog a while ago, so if it seems familiar at all to anyone then that is probably why. also, the song that jungkook sings in this i imagine to be ‘make it right’ (but the one featuring lauv).
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Jungkook is late again.
By ten minutes to be exact, but you’re certain no one’s counting anymore except for maybe you. The thought, however, doesn’t come as a surprise when it’s a natural occurrence in his life and even counting the time as it ticks by is a useless endeavour that wastes yours. 
“Where is this idiot?” 
Yoongi says this from somewhere off to your left, seething with subdued irritation. He’s been tapping his foot impatiently from behind the stand of his keyboard from the very second the clock struck twelve and Jungkook still hadn’t shown up; but his usual trademark impatience seems to be rubbing off on everyone else standing about in the room. Although, you can’t quite tell if his peeved mood is really because Jungkook is late or because the storage facility the guys rent by the hour to practice altogether as a band is being used to just stand around purposelessly and listen to nothing but angry breathing. 
“We all agreed on noon, didn’t we?” Yoongi presses. He tosses a glance at each and every guy, as if beckoning them for their unanimous agreement.
“He’s always like this,” Jimin points out. “Are we really surprised?”
“Maybe we should just start without him,” Namjoon suggests.
“Or kick him from the band. All in favour, raise your hands.” Yoongi lifts a clamped fist into the air to emphasize his point, only joined by Hoseok 
“He’ll be here any minute.” But your empty promise barely registers with them.
The small garage-like space is cramped with all the boys already in it that you can’t imagine having another person stuffed in there with you, but you’ve sat in on their rehearsals one too many times to count to know that there’s always a way to squeeze the seven of them into one space. Jimin is at the front with a microphone in hand tossing it insouciantly into the air and catching it as he leans against the wall, Taehyung is supporting most of his upper weight on the  body of the bass guitar strapped to him, Namjoon is seated on the ground with his rhythm guitar beside him picking at his nails, Hoseok is in the back seated at the drums and twirling his sticks with a bored expression. Yoongi is still by his keyboard, an animated frown deepening his features. Even Jin, sat beside you on the ratty old sofa one of the boys had shoved into the space, as the manager to the group and an advocate for Jungkook’s typical tardiness is beginning to lose his cool. 
They’ve come a long way from where they started, playing at friends’ parties to small bars to actual venues around the city and the next few cities over to releasing a full album all on their own without the help of a record label. Despite this only being the beginning of their fame, you could at least say you were there from the very start. If Jungkook doesn’t break them apart before then. 
“I’m here, I’m here! I’m sorry I’m late!”
As if on cue, Jungkook magically appears. Well, magically is a bit of an overstatement. He actually comes storming in, stumbling over his own two feet after jogging to the storage unit. Face flushed and hair longer than usual splayed out in every direction, you’re surprised he’s even remembered to bring his guitar in the case that hangs off his shoulder let alone himself.
“Took you long enough,” Yoongi grumbles.
“It’s only ten past,” Jungkook says. 
“He’s got a point, y’know Yoongi,” Taehyung admits. “Last week it was twenty minutes. Last month it was half an hour. Two months ago, he completely forgot about us altogether. He’s really cleaned himself up here.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi waves his hand dismissively. “What was the reason this time?”
Jungkook shrugs as he puts his guitar case down to unzip it. In the process, he meets your gaze and smiles a smile that you possibly can’t be vexed by. “I was sleeping.”
Namjoon snorts involuntarily. “Yeah, sleeping? Between whose legs?”
At this, various smirks and chuckles echo around the boys. You, on the other hand, shift in your seat on the sofa. Jungkook loves it too much — the growing recognition and fame. He just seems to carry himself so flawlessly on stage, eating up all the attention as if it were just him and him alone. Sometimes you catch his gaze sweeping across the crowd until he spots a girl to his liking, then flashes her a wink as if she’s the only one in the world he’s ever done that too. Other times, like now, he pays no mind to the girls that fling bras onto the stage at his feet with their numbers sprawled out inside of it except for an arrogant smirk that forms on his lips because he knows he’ll take the chance to call it when it’s late at night and he’s bored. At least, that’s what he usually does. 
You should hate him, and the way he makes you feel any time you spot him flirting with another girl that isn’t you but how can you? 
Because, out of all the boys, seeing Jungkook up there on the stage with such a serene and peaceful look behind his dark hooded eyes brings you nothing but joy. He’s your best friend, after all, and has been with you through thick and thin. If anyone can deal with his casanova ways, then it would be you. You’ve survived this long, after all.
“No one,” Jungkook scowls now. “I was at home. Alone. I slept through my alarm.”
“Sure, whatever. I don’t care,” Jin finally interjects. “Just make sure you show up to the gig tonight. Seven o’clock sharp, Jeon. You hear me?”
“I’ll be there,” Jungkook insists. His stupid big round eyes sparkle magnificently as he looks at you. “As long as Y/N’s there, I’m there. No show is complete without you.”
He says this directly to you and you know why. He’s adopted a habit of referring to you as his good luck charm for shows, though you think that’s only because he’s gotten used to seeing you at every single one. Still, it’s the sentimental thought that counts — and makes your heart nearly burst out of your chest in the least dramatic sense possible, you swear. 
And if counting the minutes every time Jungkook is late is useless, then consider it one of your favourite pastimes only because it’s him.
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There’s a moment at every concert that you’ve come to find is your favourite. 
It’s a moment where it’s complete silence. 
The lights die to a darkness so dense it takes a handful of seconds for your eyes to adjust. The room falls to a hush so low that the only noise you can hear is white static in your ears from the buzzing sound equipment on the stage, the dead of the night, and bated breaths waiting in a sharp inhale suspended in time plagued with jittering excitement. Then, it all fades away into nothing but the sound of your heart beating in your throat so loud that it stings your ears. A discernible thrumming, in beat with a mellifluous tune to come, anticipation igniting in your system. Anything can happen as everyone waits in a collective eager suspense, adrenaline coursing through their veins, for a long awaited night.
Then there’s a stroke of a guitar, strings reverberating a thunderous chord, followed by the heavy beat of percussion. The crowd screams, a cacophony of noise that pierces your ears to a near deafening state where all you can hear is a ringing humming until the lights flicker on in a dazzling array of spotlights fighting for dominance on the stage. Then, finally, in a battling crash of guitar and drums that melds into the opening of the first song, the stage is illuminated in a jarring flash of light and each figure who has now joined it has an eruption of applause and cheers from the flock of people gathered to welcome them.
You know this moment well, have become accustomed to it over the years of attending concerts for your own pleasure and for the support of your friends who are stood before you on the stage - but perhaps it’s only become a favourite moment of yours now because you get to see each of the boys doing something they wholeheartedly love.
Then there is Jungkook. That night at their gig at a small local venue (that he arrives to on time), he is standing closest to you, on Taehyung’s side, pulling the strap of his lead guitar over his neck and fingers with nails painted a chipped black snatching the pick that had been wedged between his teeth and expertly plucking away at the strings to join in the song. He sways to the upbeat music, sweat slowly forming on the back of his neck and dampening his long dark hair until it starts to form kinks in the locks. You could watch him for eternity, he’s that damn mesmerizing which, really, is just that much more devastating. 
“You’re staring again.” Jin shouts this over the thrashing instruments and Jimin’s voice, just loud enough for you to hear.
As much as you would love for Jin to be joking, he isn’t. You know he isn’t, and you almost hate him for it. Almost. But you can’t, because the fact of the matter is that he is right. He doesn’t even have to say it then and there but it’s what he implies that is the truth and you’ve known it for quite some time. You’re in love with Jungkook. You’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with him and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more.
Without even bothering to tear your gaze from Jungkook, you shake your head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“If you wanna hook up with him, I’m sure you could just ask,” Jin suggests, quivering with mirth. “He’s down for anything, our Jungkookie.”
You’re fortunate his laughter disappears under the swell of the music, but his words remain like a haunting ghost, clouding your mind. He says it as if it were easy but sex isn’t what you want from Jungkook, and it certainly wouldn’t be what you would settle for if it meant having him in any way and ruining your friendship.
No, you can't sleep with him, and you most certainly can’t confess your feelings to him. There was too much in the way, too much to risk, and standing on the sidelines of the stage as you watch him bask in all his well attributed glory as you usually do just seems so much safer — even if it’s at the cost of a heavy heart.
Later, after the concert has finished and the boys have packed their belongings back into the band’s van, you all set out to a nearby bar to celebrate making it through the night. Clearly the adrenaline of the show hasn’t quite faded yet, as evident with Namjoon who feels the need to holler his comment as he slams the shot glass he was holding down onto the bar counter, the contents of which he had just downed in one gulp. 
“Holy shit, that show was intense!”
“Swear my sticks started splintering at some point,” Hoseok grins wolfishly.
Jimin bursts out into unabashed laughter, warm and sweet. “We’ll get you new ones. Besides, the crowd seemed to love it. One of the wildest shows yet!”
As the boys continue to chat amongst one another, you take note that you’ve long since lost sight of Jungkook. It only takes you a handful of moments to look around the bar in search of him, spotting him almost immediately in a far off corner seemingly flirt with an unfamiliar girl who seems hopelessly and innocently in love with him. The sight alone is enough to make your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Sure, you’ve grown accustomed to his ways but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less to see it unfold before your eyes.
Afterwards, when the boys have wandered off to indulge in the night, you find yourself sat alone at the bar swirling a small pink paper umbrella around the contents of your drink. You’re so absorbed in your own thoughts that you hardly notice Jungkook sidle up next to you until he’s swung his arm over your shoulder.
Then, in a jubilant voice with words that slur together drunkenly, he sing-songs, “There’s my favourite girl. Been looking all over for you. What’re you doing by the bar all by yourself? Waitin’ for me, were you?”
You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes tauntingly. This close, Jungkook looks irresistible. After freshening up from his show, he’s adorned head-to-toe in all black. The metal of the rings on his fingers feel cool as they dig into your elbow and, when you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re greeted to a clear view of the rose tattoo that peeks out from beneath his collar on his neck, the thorny stems curling and unfurling to just below his ear. Even the hoop on his nose is cute, accentuating the boyish features of it; though it’s contrasted by the smudged black liner he wears around his eyes that makes him simultaneously look more menacing than he is and just that much more attractive. You know every little detail about him, from the imperfect tattoos that ink his fingers and the pretty ones that ink his arms to his favourite songs and bands, and had been there with him for nearly every piercing he had gotten (mostly on his ears, though his nose, lip, and eyebrow piercings have been traded in and out over the ages too many times to count) to every vibrant colour he’s dyed his hair (pink has always been your favourite, but nothing seems to beat his natural dark hair).
“You wish I was,” You poke your fingers at his chest. “Didn’t seem like you were trying very hard to find me, by the way. Too caught up talking to that pretty girl most of the night.”
“Ah,” Jungkook clicks his tongue. He leans against you with most of his body weight unintentionally, and you reach out to steady him. “A speck in the galaxy that’s you.”
At this, you do roll your eyes if only to try and attempt to mask the fact that it has your heart fluttering against your feeble ribcage. You clear your throat and gesture vaguely over his shoulder. “Dunno, Jeon. You’re missing out.”
“I don’t think so.”
“She’s been gawking at you ever since you left her. You still have time to change your mind.”
A lopsided and sloppy smirk tugs at his lips. His hand drops from your shoulder, ghosting across your waist, before landing on your hip which he squeezes tightly. He tugs you towards him without warning and then leans his head down to yours so that his mouth is hovering over your ear in a way that must certainly look suggestive to any outsider.
“Then let’s give her something to look at, yeah?” he asks.
You simply shake your head. This close, Jungkook smells of stale sweat from the show and something muskier like the notes of a cologne. “Well, I’m glad you could come pay me a visit out of the blue to, what I assume is, make the girl jealous. Also, how drunk are you exactly?”
“Barely,” he grins wide. “M’not- I swear m’not drunk.”
“I doubt that,” You giggle a sound so adorable that it has Jungkook’s heart singing. “You can’t even form a proper sentence. I think maybe it’s time to call it a night, love.”
Jungkook only smiles, nuzzling his face in your hair. He whispers against the side of your head, “Come home with me?”
And you can’t possibly say no. 
After finding the rest of your friends to let them know of your departure, you head outside to hail down a taxi. Moments later, you’re helping a stumbling Jungkook inside his dorm, the two of you tripping over his clothes and shoes littering the floor and chuckling at one another. He slips somewhere along the way, tumbling down onto the couch in his living room first and then rolling onto the floor and dragging you down with him. You’re both laughing, even though you’ve landed haphazardly on his chest, and are almost too close for comfort. 
When you both settle down, you find yourselves staring at one another. He reaches out delicately to brush your hair away from your face and the simple action sends chills down your spine. In the darkness of his home with nothing but the pale moonlight to illuminate his irises, you swear he’s gazing at you tenderly.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks. “‘Cause you are. I swear I’m the luckiest man alive to get to call you my girl.”
“Jungkook…” You already know where this is going, even without him saying it aloud. Still, your voice trails off into a weak mumble if only because part of you craves to hear more, craves to feel special. 
“I could be more, if you’d let me. You know that. I would treat you right. I already practically worship the ground you walk on-”
“Not again, Jungkook.” This time, you’ve pushed yourself up, palms pressed against his chest so that you can help yourself stand. He’s sat up within seconds, pulling himself up to sit on the edge of the couch, staring solemnly at your figure. His hair is even more of a dishevelled mess, and the denim jacket he had been wearing has one sleeve fallen slack around his arm. A moment of silence passes that rivals that of the excited quiet before a concert begins. It’s so unsettling, in fact, that it has you shuffling your feet anxiously. 
“Why do you keep pushing me away?” he asks desperately. “I know we’ve been feeling the same things lately. You’re all I can think about these days. Christ, you’re all I can dream about. And I even saw you earlier when I was talking to that girl. Looked like you were giving her daggers with your eyes.”
He stands to his feet now, tugging off his jacket sloppily. You shake your head and take a step back from him when he moves to close the distance. “You’re such a liar. You said you didn’t even really care about her.”
“I was only talking to her just to make you jealous,” he says with a sheepish grin, “and it’s clearly working.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to stop your smile. He’s pushed himself to stand in front of you now, his hands resting on your upper arms. 
“You’re wrong,” You say. “And you should leave poor unsuspecting girls alone who don’t need to be defiled by you.”
“Ah, so is that you telling me you wanna be defiled by me?”
“Jungkook.” Even though you say his name sternly, he’s still chuckling to himself, pleased with the way you look rather timid beneath his touch. 
He straightens up quickly, carefully brushing his fingers along your cheekbone. You lean into the warmth of the palm of his hand and shut your eyes. His dorm is silent once more. It’s just you and him, best friends who are in love with each other who shouldn’t be. You don’t move even when you feel he does, and you certainly don’t move when he leans closer and closer until his lips are so near yours that you can feel them nearly grazing against the corner of your mouth, and his warm breath tingling your neck. But he doesn’t go any further, and neither do you. Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls away from you, leaving you momentarily breathless. When you look at him, he’s gazing at your lips. 
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable-”
“No, Kook. I just- It’s just-” You rest your forehead against his shoulder and sigh, trying hard to ignore the way he strokes your back comfortingly. “I’m not gonna be another one of your toys. I know what you’re like and I don’t wanna be caught up in it and I don’t expect you to change for me. You’re my best friend and I love you too much to ruin that.”
You finally glance up at him and for a moment you notice the distant look in his eyes, the way his face is pulled into a pained expression.
“Besides, one day you’re gonna get big and famous and you’ll forget all about me. Or get bored of me.”
“But I have changed for you,” he insists. “And I could never forget you or get bored of you. Are you crazy? You’re my best friend. I love you.”
“You’re drunk, Jungkook,” You sigh wearily, rubbing a tired hand over your face. “You just want me in your bed and then you’ll be over it. You just like a chase.”
He looks exasperated, maybe even a little offended. “No! No, I would- I would never do that to you. You mean so fucking much to me. You’re my whole world! And if I am gonna get rich and famous but without you by my side then I don’t want it. I’d throw it all away for you, you have to know that, Y/N.”
“Okay,” You say quietly. “Then show me. Show me you mean it. Don’t just tell me.”
Jungkook’s eyes scan your face, his jaw clenched. “I’ll do anything for you.”
Just before you leave that night, he stops you by the door, his fingers wrapping around yours. For once in his life, he doesn’t look so confident or cocky. Instead, he looks afraid, a little rough, and boyish. 
“Stay the night?” he asks. “It’s late and you’ve been drinking and I don’t like the idea of you walking alone like this.”
You know it’s a terrible idea but you relent without much persuasion. “Okay.”
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” he asks.
“No, Jungkook. I could never be mad at you. It’s a curse.” He has to at least smile sadly when you do too, especially when you lean forward to peck his cheek. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He offers to take the couch like he always does when you’re at his dorm. Only, unlike every other time where you insist it’s okay if he wants to sleep in the same bed as you because you’re just that comfortable with him, you don’t ask this time. He doesn’t push it. He’s thankful that you’re at least still there in the morning to greet him with a smile, however half hearted it maybe.
Even though the conversation you had with him the night before is not the first, nor possibly the last, you will have with him, things between the two of you return to about as normal as it can be. 
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Jungkook’s always been a sweet lovable idiot to you. 
When he says he worships the ground you walk on, he means it. You may not see it like that but his kind gestures don’t go unnoticed. In fact, they’re the same gestures that ultimately pushed you to fall for him. But after that conversation, the things he does only seem to be magnified - whether that’s because he goes out of his way to do more for you or because you’re only just starting to notice just how much he truly does for you.
The things he does are small but cherished. 
The morning you wake up in his apartment in his bed, he’s fussing about in the kitchen attempting to make you breakfast. He seems disappointed to have you walk in on him part way and even though he doesn’t admit it, he’s forever thankful you swoop in to help with the disaster he made while trying to cook pancakes (even if it somehow results in a trivial food fight). Just before you leave him that day, he makes certain to stop you by the door once more if only just to tell you, “I meant it when I said it. I’ll do anything for you.”
You want to tell him it’s more trouble than it’s worth but you know he wouldn’t see it that way. Jungkook has always been stubborn and persistent and, while sometimes those traits work against him, it can be admirable other times.
One day he surprises you at the local boutique you work at downtown with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. It’s a small, simple gesture, and he knows it won’t overstep any boundaries you may have put up. It’s not as if he hasn’t surprised you in little ways before but there’s something different about this time. He spends your lunch break with you just like he often does, and when you ask him what the flowers are for, he just grins.
“Can’t I spoil my best friend sometimes?” he asks. Then he shrugs innocently. “Saw them on the way here and they reminded me of you. I know those are your favourite.”
When he’s gone, the flowers left in his wake still have you smiling like a flustered idiot. 
His attention is solely placed on you, and no one else. It’s not that it isn’t usually already on you, being distracted by you when you’re at band practices or rehearsals and carrying you around the venue on his back until you’re shrieking at the top of your lungs for him to let you down or with his head in your lap so you can braid his hair absentmindedly during a writing session with the boys. Most times the others have to scold the two of you for taking selfies during an important band meeting, or snickering to yourselves when someone else is speaking. 
But things become different. Good different. 
After gigs and at bars when girls who recognize him from the band try flocking him and grabbing his attention, instead of relishing in it he slips from their grasp to come to you, wherever you are. Often times, it results in him taking your hand and leading you to the dance floor or just away from it all — from the band and the fans and the limelight — to venture off to a park or a diner around the corner just to sit and talk.
When you call him up stressed after a tough shift, he tells you to stay put. That he’ll be at yours in five, and he doesn’t lie. He’s there to listen to you vent and ramble, your feet kicked up in his lap. And when you call him in the middle of the night, too tired but not able to sleep, he’ll give up on the idea of getting rest for himself just to pick you up in his car to drive you to a secluded area of a nearby park so you can watch the stars and talk. 
Other times, he’ll spend the night at yours, the both of you getting drunk off of cheap wine. After spending the evening making, and burning, a batch of chocolate chip cookies and then ordering pizza, he’s dancing with you in the kitchen to your record player playing faintly in the background. One night, you’re in the familiar comfort of his dorm wrapped up in one of his too large hoodies even for him. You’re sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through your phone with your feet in his lap as a movie plays that is disregarded by the both of you. He has an acoustic guitar leaning on one thigh, and he’s plucking away at it in an indiscernible way to a tune he seems to know well enough that doesn’t sound like any of the guys’ songs or another artist’s. He’s humming, too, and it’s a melodic song, a forlorn yet hopeful tune that makes your heart croon in tandem with it for a reason unbeknownst to you. 
“That’s pretty.” Your faint whisper is almost as haunting as the song to him. “I’ve never heard it before.”
“It’s a new song. I haven’t really shown anyone it. Not even the guys,” Jungkook admits sheepishly.
“Why not? Could be your first big hit.”
Jungkook smiles shyly, biting at his lower lip. “It’s not finished yet. Maybe one day.”
“Can I hear the rest?” 
“You want me to sing to you?”
He asks the question as if he hasn’t already sung to you before on multiple occasions, both in the privacy of your homes and quite literally out in the open on stage. So why does he hesitate now? Why does he feel his heart beat in his throat? When you nod, he can’t possibly resist you. So, instead, he serenades you. The song isn’t anywhere near done, and in some places he has lyrics to sing to you whilst in other spots he just hums to fill in the silence and you’re left filling in the gaps with your imagination that doesn’t seem to compare to his, his voice fading in and out like the ebb and flow of a warm lullaby. 
When he finishes the song, he’s suddenly too scared to look at you, fearing your reaction. But when he gathers the courage to look, he sees you smiling to yourself and the sight alone is enough to give him hope.
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You’ve never seen the guys so nervous before.
When it was their very first time ever performing in front of a crowd (a friend’s birthday, cramped in a crowded living room), they had been anything but shy; when it was their first time posting the music they had spent months pouring their heart and soul into online, they weren’t terrified of potential anonymous hate comments or backlash from friends; when it was their first time performing on a stage after gaining a decent following, even then they had persevered without a moment’s hesitation. 
But now? Now you were certain they were all one step away from an actual mental breakdown.
You guess you don’t blame them, though. It’s been a known fact for a few months now that apparently someone from Columbia Records (the same recording label that signed The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, and Bob Dylan amongst a handful of other notable artists as Jungkook makes sure to mention almost every time the label is brought up) had seen one of the band’s gigs either in person or online and was interested in signing them. And, somehow, Jin had been able to score them a meeting with the label which felt like now was rapidly approaching. The only downside was that the label wanted the band to bring a set of new songs to the table to discuss, and that seemed to throw the boys into a frenzy considering they had just work the entire past year on releasing an album themselves.
Which is why now you find yourself crammed into a local studio that is run by some friend Yoongi knows from college — the same place you’ve found yourself in for a while in the past few months — to help the boys with writing and recording. Hours are spent watching from the couch as the boys record themselves in every way possible, and watching Jungkook thrive in his element. There’s something you always find attractive about the simplicity of him playing — or at least, how he looks when he does play. 
Finally, after sufficiently losing their minds in there, they decide to break for lunch. Everyone, except for Jungkook.
“Are you coming with?” Hoseok asks before he leaves. The others have already disappeared from the room, including the producers. Jungkook is splayed out on the couch, an acoustic guitar resting across his torso, a journal next to him, and a pen tucked behind his ear. 
“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up,” Jungkook says, but his voice tells you otherwise.
“Suit yourself,” Hoseok says. “If I stay here any longer, I’ll probably rip my hair out.”
“Uh oh,” You retort. “Heaven forbid. Wouldn’t want to ruin your beautiful mane.”
You reach out tauntingly to ruffle his freshly dyed peach-coloured hair. He bats your hands away with a grin before disappearing out the door. When it’s just you and Jungkook, you turn to him with pursed lips and a quirked brow. He’s plucking away absentmindedly at his guitar, fingernails painted a chipped black as usual and lazily sweeping across the strings, not quite realizing you’re still there.
“You should probably eat something, you know,” You point out, matter-of-fact. 
“I’ll survive.”
“You get hangry when you don’t have breakfast,” You snort. “You’ve already been stuck here all morning, and I bet you haven’t had anything to eat yet.”
Jungkook straightens up on the couch, though his guitar is still in his lap. “The record label wants ten new songs before the meeting in a week. The same label that has The Rolling Stones. The Rolling Stones, Y/N.”
“Yes, I’m aware. You’ve only mentioned it like a million times.”
“So then you know why we can’t stop now. Why I can’t.”
You brow furrows at his stubbornness. “You can, and you will.” 
To emphasize your point, you snatch the guitar from his hands. At once, his head shoots up and his animated expression is ignored by you. “Hey-”
“Just take a break,” You scold, setting his guitar down. “Even for fifteen minutes. It won’t kill you.”
“It could.”
“You’re such a drama queen.”
“Thank you.”
Your unamused reaction and unwavering stare as you sit down beside him, cross-legged and facing him, has him sighing a muffled and strangled sounding noise of defeat.
“Okay, fine,” he grumbles. “Maybe a small break won’t hurt.”
You can’t help the unabashed snicker that bubbles at your lips from seeing him pout. He lolls his head onto the back of the sofa and stares blankly at the ceiling. In the silence that prolongs, you reach out innocently to brush away an odd strand of hair that has fallen onto his cheekbone away. Your fingers linger for a bit longer than necessary, dropping to the side of his neck where the rose tattoo peaks through his collar.
“Your hair’s getting longer,” You hum. 
“Hm? Should I cut it?”
“No.” You tug delicately at the hair at the nape of his neck. “I like it.”
Jungkook finally turns to look at you, his weary eyes lined with bags glazing over with admiration. “Don’t say that kind of stuff.”
“Because it drives me crazy. In a good way, and then I really can’t think straight, and these songs can’t write themselves and I don’t expect Namjoon’s gonna do any good until he’s eaten.”
He’s smiling smally, maybe a little timidly, despite a hint of disappointment hinging on his every word. You pause, your hand freezing in place. 
“Let me take you on one date,” he suggests softly. When he sees you about to protest, he adds quickly, “Just one, to prove it to you. That I can be a gentleman. I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise. Deal?”
You don’t respond at first, and you’re certain your silence has his confidence waning with each passing second. Then, dropping your hand from his neck, you quip lightheartedly, “I don’t know. Dating a rockstar? My mom used to always say stay away from boys like you.”
“I’m no rockstar,” Jungkook grins. “I’m just me. Even if things work out with this label, I’m still just me. And, by the way, your mom loves me. Told me she would adopt me if I asked.”
You can’t help but laugh. You punch his shoulder carefully, and give him a shake of your head but not to answer his question. Truthfully, you’ve never seen Jungkook put so much effort into anything before besides the band (when he’s not showing up late to band practice). And maybe there has been something different going on between the two of you. Maybe you can trust Jungkook enough to carry this out. Deep down inside, you know you want to make it work with Jungkook, and so maybe that’s why you finally relent. 
“Okay. Okay, deal,” You say. “One date. When you come back from this grand meeting with this record label, we’ll plan a day.”
Maybe it’s a tragedy in the making. Maybe it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever agreed to do. Whatever the case, the smile on his face, sweet and ardent and bursting with joy, when you finally agree to his date is enough for you.
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The three days in which the boys leave Seoul to travel to New York City for their meeting with Columbia Records is the longest three days of your life. 
That’s in part due to the reason that you weren’t able to join them on the journey as other obligations tied you back. Then there’s also the fact that you’ve never been so impatient waiting to hear how the meeting went. Even more stressful is the added fact that you won’t get an answer until the boys return on the very same day that just so happens to be when your date with Jungkook was planned.
Then, he’s texting you to tell you that they’ve landed back in Seoul. Then, he’s texting you to tell you he’ll pick you up at seven. 
But your worries all fade away the moment you see him and the date unfolds effortlessly. 
You don’t know what to expect but it isn’t awkward or uncomfortable because it’s Jungkook and you’ve known him for so long. Even being with him in an entirely different setting, at a lavish high-end restaurant, doesn’t change the fact that he’s still your best friend. You’ve never seen him look so handsome, adorned in dress pants and a dark plum silky shirt leaving the first few buttons undone so that the swallow tattoos on his collar bones are exposed and the two chain necklaces he always wears (one is a ring that you gave him for his birthday one year that he hasn’t taken off since). Then again, you’re certain he’s never seen you look so done up wearing a pretty red dress just for him.
He pulls out all the stops, holds doors open for you and your chair, orders the most expensive wine and pays for your meal. You stay seated at the table even long after you’ve paid, because talking to Jungkook is always your favourite pastime. You keep beckoning for him to tell you about New York but he pushes it off, brimming with excitement, promising you he’ll tell you what happened after you eat, then after dessert, then after just one more drink. It isn’t as if things are any different than they usually are. The only thing that makes it different is the fact that you both know Jungkook’s in love with you. By the end of the night, you’re almost certain you can let yourself fall in love with him properly, without being afraid. 
Until, that is, your reverie of him comes crashing down. 
It’s not as if you don’t notice the waitress serving your table constantly eyeing Jungkook. It’s not uncommon to have girls throw themselves at him in front of you, and usually you wouldn’t have cared. It only seems to have become too much for you when the girl begins flirting with him, chatting to him as if you weren’t even there. At some point he leaves to order you a drink at the bar attached to the restaurant, and when you realize he hasn’t been back for quite some time, you spot him still by the bar, talking to the waitress who is all dreamy-eyed and fluttering lashes. 
It’s not Jungkook’s fault. You can see he’s visibly bored and uncomfortable but there’s some sort of hold up behind the bar with the bartender. Each time he tries to leave her, she tries to change the conversation to keep him there. And while you know it’s not his fault, you can’t help it when the dubious feeling creeps up on you like a looming shadow. It’s a small voice in the back of your mind that warns you that maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. It taunts you until you’re sick to your stomach. 
You don’t bother waiting for him. You just need to be anywhere else but there. You’ve only been stood outside the restaurant for a few short moments, your back pressed up against the wall as you take a deep breath, when Jungkook finds you. He comes stumbling outside in a rush, brows quirked inquisitively as he approaches you.
“Where are you going?” he asks breathlessly, concerned. 
“I’m just getting some fresh air.”
He doesn’t believe it. You can tell by the look on his face. He shakes his head then, frowning as he says, “No. No, this is you pushing me away again. I thought things were going well.”
You round on him without meaning to, your voice a little harsher than intended. “Well, can you blame me?” 
He falls silent, watching you intently as you push yourself off the wall and take a step towards him.
“Our own waitress had the audacity to hit on you the whole time I was sitting right there,” You say hotly. “I know it’s not your fault either and that’s the worst part because I want this to work out so fucking much but I- I just- I’m sorry, Jungkook. I can’t do this. There can’t be an ‘us.’ Not in the way you want there to be.”
He blinks slowly. Suddenly, his face is devoid of any emotion but you can hear the firmness in his voice when he asks, “And why not?”
“Because I can’t live my life with you in a constant state of jealousy or fear,” You say. “I trust you as my best friend. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend.”
“You don’t mean that.” When he sees you shaking your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, he takes another step forward, closing the distance between the two of you. “You can’t mean that.”
When you don’t respond immediately, he takes yet another step towards you and continues on adamantly. 
“Do you wanna know what happened at the meeting in New York?” he asks. “They’re thinking about signing us. Us. Can you believe it? A big record label, promising us world tours and bigger and better albums and international radio play. The boys could’ve died and gone to heaven then and there. They would’ve all agreed right on the spot if it wasn’t for me. For you. We had to beg them to give us a few days to talk it out. Because we — I — wanted your opinion before we did anything serious. Because I’d throw it all away for you in a heartbeat if you said you’d want me here with you.”
You swallow thickly. Finding your voice, you manage to say meekly, “Then you’d be an absolute idiot to do that, Jungkook-”
“But I don’t see it that way-”
“And it’s even more of a reason for us not to be together.” Your response clearly frustrates him, as you watch him rake a hand anxiously through his hair only to mess it up beyond repair and not give a single damn about it. “If you don’t take the deal, I’m the reason you were stuck here for all your life. I’m the bad guy. If you take the deal, you leave. You get to travel the world doing what you love, meeting girls who could treat you better, not having to worry about being tied down to someone thousands of miles away from you.”
Jungkook grimaces. He locks steady gazes with you, determined not to let you go. “I take the deal, I don’t take the deal — it doesn’t matter. I’m always gonna be here for you either way. I have always been here for you. I just want you. Why can’t you just see that?”
This time, you don’t respond to him. Instead, you turn away, looking anywhere but at him. “Take me home, Jungkook.”
You can’t bear to look at him so crushed. He’s not mad at you. He could never be mad at you, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still hurt and you know it’s all because of you. Fortunately, he doesn’t push the conversation any further. He takes you home, just like you asked of him, enduring a silent car ride that ends with you quietly thanking him and that’s all. Worst of all is that the next day he knows the two of you will return to simply just “best friends.” That things won’t be so awkward between the two of you because he promised as such. 
He knows he should be glad that if that’s the only thing he gets to call you, then at least that means you’re still his — but the pain is hard to shake.
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As it turns out, pretending to be best friends with one another as usual is hard when it’s mutually understood that you’re both in love with one another.
Jungkook makes the effort to keep things the same. So do you. But something starts to change — a shift in tension that has both of you stumbling around aimlessly in the dark. It’s hard to navigate nightly outings with one another or sleepovers at each other’s homes while trying to sort out whatever is clouding your hearts. 
When Jungkook tells you that him and the guys have actually signed the deal with Columbia Records a few days after your disaster of a date, you certainly don’t know how to feel. When he tells you that they want the guys to hop on the Asia leg of tour as an opening act for another band, you feel your heart drop in your chest. You’re happy for him — you swear you are — but you can only think that now is the time when he starts to forget you. He knows that’s what you’re thinking, too. That you expect him to fall in love with some other girl miles away, or spend his nights hooking up with any girl that throws herself at him. It’s only for thirteen shows, mostly in Korea, but it really translates into three months of him being gone. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, has never been more adamant to prove you wrong. 
That first night that he’s gone, Jungkook calls you. It’s after their concert and it’s well into the night but he takes his time to talk to you, telling you about the gig and his day and listening intently when you tell him about yours. He has you laughing just like that, truly as if nothing bad had ever happened between you two, telling you about some silly story having to do with Namjoon tripping over something on stage and almost blowing out the speakers somehow. At some point, he notices when you begin dozing off with all your stifled yawns and your slurring words.
“Tired?” he asks with a chuckle. “I guess I’ll let you go. Selfish of me to keep you up. Sweet dreams, princess.”
“It’s okay. I like hearing your voice.” He’s content when he can hear the smile in yours. “Sweet dreams, Jungkook.”
You don’t hang up right away. Neither does he. You can tell he’s itching to say something. Had you been there with him, you’d have seen him fidgeting restlessly, tapping his foot on the ground. After a moment of pause, and trying desperately to find that confidence he always used to have, he can be heard whispering, “I’m still in love with you. Just so you know. One whole day, and you’re all I’ve thought about.”
You’re quiet for a few terribly long seconds. Then, you’re snorting. “Mhm. You’ll forget me soon enough.”
“We’ll see about that when your last show rolls around.”
“Wanna bet on it?”
“You’re on. You’ll have to buy me that really good ramyun from that restaurant down the street from your place if I’m right. If you still remember. ”
“You’re ridiculous.” 
Whether he takes it as a challenge of not, after that, Jungkook calls every single night without fail. A whole thirteen shows, and he never misses a chance calling you. Even on the days you think he may not call, you think maybe he has forgotten or is too tired, he surprises you. It’s often just as you’re about to go to bed, just so you can hear his voice. He tells you about his day and you’ll tell him about yours. Then, just as the conversation is winding down and you’re ready for bed, he’ll tell you (sometimes a little cheekily because he knows he’s proving himself right, and sometimes a little bit more ardently because he’s tired and missing you), “I’m still in love with you.”
Usually, your response is a giggle, and a quick and dismissive, “Sweet dreams, Jungkook,” but he’s never disheartened by it. It’s silly how it becomes such a regular parting between you two, despite you never reciprocating in the way he wants you to. He doesn’t push it. He just wants you to know how it is. That he is still in love with you, that he isn’t spending his days away from you with other girls. He doesn’t have to tell you that out right for you to understand what he means. 
At some point, your response turns into, “You’re such a dork,” and he knows something must be working. Whatever the case, he loves hearing you chuckle on the other end of the call whenever he tells you he’s in love with you. 
When he calls you after their second last show, he ends the conversation with a timid, “I love you.”
He doesn’t expect you to say it back to him. He just needs you to hear it because he’s been dying to tell you and he can’t possibly wait the day it will take to return to you. Truthfully, he’s expecting you to hang up on him, but you don’t. 
Instead, he hears you respond with, “Hurry home, Jungkook. I miss you.”
He hasn’t been more impatient before. 
When the last show of their tour arrives, you decide to visit them. It only seems right, considering it’s right in Seoul as a fitting farewell to their segment of the tour. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to show. He doesn’t know why. He’s worried that maybe his brave efforts in talking to you every night is fruitless, and that maybe you are really still upset with him. 
It’s hard to spot you anyway if you do show up to the show. The boys have never played in such a large crowd as big as the Seoul Olympic Stadium before. Twelve shows, and he still hasn’t gotten used to it. The sea of unfamiliar faces, the cheers so loud he’s worried he’ll go deaf at points, the feeling in the pit of his stomach as if he could fly. Let alone the fact that it’s the show for their home city, and that every seat (roughly seventy-thousand, to be exact) in the stadium is sold out to screaming fans. 
Whether or not he genuinely believes in considering you a good luck charm, he could really use you then and there. Even just the sight of you, and your smile. All he has to get him by is the promise from Jin that you’ll be there, somewhere backstage. Jungkook’s almost certain that’s a well fabricated lie to get him on stage before he vomits — or runs away from the nerves. 
Fortunately, he does neither. He’s proud to say he walks on stage in front of thousands of people with only you on his mind. Then, settled upon by the band in an impromptu moment before their set, Jungkook takes Jimin’s spot at the front as the other boy stands back with a guitar in hand. The lights are so blinding he can’t see properly, and the crowd is so loud that even his in-ear piece does nothing to soften the blow. 
“This song is a new one.” He addresses the crowd, but he hopes that you know it’s all for you. He’s gripping his guitar so tightly, his knuckles are turning bone white. “It was written by me for someone really special and close to my heart. I don’t know if you’re listening right now but, if you are listening, then you know who you are.”
He takes a deep breath. Then, he starts singing.
It only takes you a fleeting second to realize that it’s the same song he had played for you all those weeks ago on the couch in his dorm. And, for a moment, transcending the crowd and the stars, it almost feels as if you’re back there once more in the privacy of his home, with him playing a song he made for you and your blissful ignorance of the fact at the time.
For a moment, it isn’t a crowd of seventy-thousand people; for a moment, it’s just you and him.
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Jungkook finds you backstage immediately after the show.
He’s the first one to stumble into the green room where you’re waiting, drenched in sweat and running a hand through his damp hair when he stops in his tracks at the sight of you. His eyes widen even bigger than they already are, and he gulps nervously. It’s the first time he’s seen you in over three months and he wants nothing more than to just scoop you up in his arms and hug you, but he relents. You’re smiling at least, and it sends a wave of relief washing over him.
“You came,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d show.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 
Is it just the afterglow of adrenaline that has him seeing things or are you gazing at him now? Dazzled by his appearance even. He takes a step towards you. You take a step towards him. Then, in a few short strides, the two of you collide with one another and he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you impossibly close to him. 
“Missed you loads,” he sighs, rubbing his face into your hair. “It’s so good to be back. I’ve got tons of stories to tell you about too. Next time, you’ve gotta come visit us on the road. You’d love it-”
“Jungkook, I need to talk to you.” The urgency in your voice is what stops him immediately. He pulls apart from you just slightly enough to look down at you. Your brows are creased with concern, but your features soften the longer you look at him. “I’ve been thinking, Jungkook, and I-”
“Yo, Jungkook! We’re gonna get a few drinks to celebrate. What do you want- Oh.”
Namjoon springs through the door in an oblivious fashion. Closely following him are the other boys, who each pile into the room one-by-one and notice your presence. At once, you and Jungkook spring apart only for the boys to engulf you in their own separate hugs of their own as you congratulate them all.
“Wanna come with us?” Namjoon asks at some point. “Drinks are on Jungkook, of course.”
“I- I think I’m gonna just head home, actually,” You mumble. “But you guys go ahead. You deserve it.”
They don’t need much persuasion. As they’re leaving, Jungkook lingers behind, his eyes focused on you. “Y/N…”
He wants to say something more, but his words fail him. They always seem to do. Somewhere in the hallway outside of the room, the boys’ boisterous voices and laughter can be heard. 
“Go. Enjoy yourself.” It’s the weak smile that you flash him that has him flinching, but he goes anyway when the boys shout out for him.
But it turns out to be the worst decision of his life, as it does for you. Your mind is clouded with thoughts consumed by him and only him for the rest of the night. It’s much later when you realize, after tossing and turning in your bed all night into the early hours of the day, that you can’t sleep because of him. Not until you talk to him, and tell him what you want. 
When you arrive at his doorstep moments later, you’re certain he won’t answer your knocking. It’s nearly four in the morning, after all.
Your incessant knocking is greeted only to silence and you start to give up on the idea — not even knowing if he’s asleep or still out with the boys — out of fear of waking his neighbours. But then you hear a scuffling inside, the sound of chain clinking as the door is unlocked. Then the door swings open and Jungkook is standing listlessly on the other side. He’s leaning against the frame with his elbow, his forehead propped up by his knuckles. His fingers are still adorned in an array of silver rings, the corners of his eyes are still smudged with remnants of charcoal liner, and he’s dressed sloppily in a pair of joggers and a hoodie he must have just thrown on because his hair is an even bigger mess than usual. He clearly wasn’t expecting you, judging by the way he snaps out of his daze and gawks at you.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?”
He ushers you inside his home, letting the door swing shut behind you. His apartment is dark, safe for the moonlight that streams in past his blinds in the living room. In this light, he notices that you must have just rolled out of bed too because you’re only wearing a pair of leggings and a baggy shirt that he’s seen you sleep in before (and that he’s positive once belonged to him).
“I couldn’t sleep,” You say.
“Neither could I.”
“I had to come. I’m sorry,” Your eyes are wide as you look up at him, as if you’re afraid of what his reaction will be. “I just- I’ve been thinking a lot. And- And I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I’m done pushing you away. I’ve been so stupid. I’m sorry for pushing you away. It’s just that, having you away on tour made me realize how often you really are there for me. It made me realize just how much I want you to be mine. And I trust you more than anything, Jungkook. Of course I trust you. You’re my best friend and I’m-”
You’re in the middle of speaking when he interrupts you by grabbing your face in his hands, rough calloused fingers gentle and careful as they brush against your cheekbones, and presses his lips to yours. At first, he doesn’t know how you’ll react, and neither do you as you’re too lost in the taste of his mouth on yours. It’s a strange feeling, foreign yet not at all uncomfortable. When you part from each other, he nuzzles his nose against yours and his heart nearly combusts at the sight of you smiling to yourself.
“Hm,” Your nose crinkles as you trail off, catching him from his trance-like state. “Kissing you feels funny.”
“That’s not exactly the best thing to tell me after I just kissed you.”
The sound of your laugh is as mellifluous as ever, an airy cadence that he can never replicate on his own with his own music. 
“Not in a bad way,” You promise. “Funny in a good way. Like it was meant to be. It just feels right.”
“Now that’s gonna really drive me crazy.”
This time, the sound of your snickering is swallowed by Jungkook as you kiss him again, just so you can properly enjoy it this time without the added shock. It’s slow and simple and unadulterated and absolutely divine. Your hands flail outward to grab at the material of his sweater, tugging at the hood to pull him closer and he relents without protest. He nearly stumbles and loses his balance, but catches himself at the end by pressing his hand on the space above your head as you crash against the wall. 
He can’t believe that this is happening — that he’s kissing you and you’re kissing him and it isn’t just one big elaborate dream. And you’re right. Kissing each other does feel right, and normal, and perfect. He wants nothing more than to kiss you all over. 
He feels you mumble against his mouth faintly, “I wanna be yours, Jungkook. I just want to be yours.”
The underlying yearning implications in your words ignite something primal deep within him. He groans against your lips. “You already know I’ll do anything for you. Just tell me what you need.”
“I want you to show me,” You tell him. “I want you to show me you really mean it.”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. This has been the single moment he’s dreamt about and looked forward to for years and it is all happening at once. He can hardly keep up, but he refuses to let you go just yet and tightens his hold on you. His hands fall to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. His tongue lavs at your lower lip, suckling at it deliciously until he elicits a small moan from your mouth that sends him into near hysterics.
“Are you sure?” he whispers when he manages to find his voice.
You can only nod, too lost in his entire presence. You’re clinging so tightly to his sweater that you accidentally tug it low, exposing his collarbones. Hurriedly, and perhaps a little greedily, he lets his hands fall to your thighs, just below your butt. He can’t bring himself to touch you like that in the way that he wants, at least not yet. And there’s no rush in it anyway — he just wants to take his time in exploring you all over. When he tugs at your thighs, you understand his wordless gesture and leap up, gripping his shoulders to wrap your legs around his waist. He cradles your behind, letting you leave sloppy and warm kisses from his lips to his jawline to his neck, marking him yours in every which way.
He carries you effortlessly to his bedroom, biceps flexing as they hold you in an ironclad grip. Carefully, he places you onto the soft mattress of his bed earning a small giggle from you that has him wondering how he could possibly want to kiss you all over and fuck you into oblivion. Clearly, his frustration is made known when he sighs into your neck after you’ve both squirmed into a better position on the bed and he’s pulled his hoodie off. Now, exposed to you, you can make out every single tattoo on his body even in the dark. You know them by heart anyway, can outline them with your finger with your eyes closed. The swallows on his collarbone, the laurels on his hips. You instinctively reach out, carelessly paying attention as your outline them and causing his breath to audibly hitch in his throat.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he croons. “To touch you, and feel you, and make you mine. To make love to you.”
Make love. Your thighs rub together at his words unconsciously, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Then touch me, Jungkook. You can have me anyway you want.”
You grab at his hands, placing them onto your hips, creeping up beneath the material of your shirt and hiking it further up your torso as you guide him. His rings are a comforting cold against your warm, burning flesh. When you let go, he lets his hand trail further and further up your body on his own accord, his breath sucked in. His fingers stop at the underside of your breasts when he realizes he doesn’t feel your bra. He swallows thickly. Then, he helps you tug your shirt off and tosses it somewhere on the floor beside the bed.
He has to take a moment to relish in the glorious sight. The round soft flesh of our breasts, the swell of your perked nipples. He can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch you, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He swipes his thumb over the perked bud, hearing you hum in content. Kissing his way from your throat to between your collarbones and just above your breast, he catches your other nipple in his mouth, his breath hot and tingling against the sensitive nerves.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “So beautiful.”
“Touch me, Jungkook,” You say again in a stuttering gasp, only this time your voice is treading on a desperate plea.
“Where do you want me?” He asks gruffly against your nipple.
You reach out blindly for his free hand. Grabbing his rough fingers in your soft hand, you guide his palm over the front of your stomach to the waistband of your leggings. Then, guiltlessly, you pull his hand down with yours beneath the material and press the pad of his fingers over your clothed clit. Even just the simple action of having him touch you there is enough to make you squirm beneath him. Jungkook, on the other hand, can’t take his eyes off you, licking his lips slowly. You cup his palm around your core, jutting your hips forward to grind leisurely against him, igniting a flame in the pit of your stomach.
“Seeing you so needy is so sexy,” he groans.
“Then you’ll probably love this,” You somehow manage to quip lightheartedly. Jungkook seems too absorbed in pleasuring you to really be paying attention, but you know he is. “I used to touch myself to the thought of you.”
Jungkook has to sputter for air. “And you never told me? I could’ve made you feel so good.”
“I know.”
“Then I have to make up for lost time.”
When you shoot him a curious look, he’s already pulled apart from you — the loss of his hand leaving you almost whining out loud — and is hovering over your waist. He wastes no time in helping you shed your leggings, then so agonizingly slowly rolls your cute cotton panties down your legs and away. Again, Jungkook takes a moment to appreciate the sight. The swollen flesh between your thighs, glistening with your cum, just beckoning for him to have a taste. He wedges himself between your legs, kisses your stomach and then the space just between your hips. Lower and lower he goes, before kissing your inner thigh and then the other. Closer and closer, and then he’s right where you want him. He sticks out his tongue, pressing it flat against your clit, swirling the tip around the bundle of nerves. 
Your reaction is immediate, explosive. Your back arches off the bed at the feeling of the wet muscle against you. “O-h, Jungkook-”
Dropping his head a bit more, he swipes his tongue up your folds, tasting your cum and swallowing it whole. He moans at the taste and smell against you, slightly muffled when your thighs threaten to squeeze shut over his head. He wraps his mouth around your clit, sucking and laving at it; then he swaps to delve his tongue deep past your folds and back again. It’s a cycle that has you shaking in no time, legs quivering, body squirming. Your fingers thread in his soft locks and squeeze at the root, pulling him closer and closer into you. Soon, he’s eating you out like a full course meal, covetously lapping at your leaking juices as his nose brushes into your clit. 
“Jungkook- Fuck- Jungkook, I’m gonna-” Your voice drowns out in a moan that only excites him further. 
He can’t stop, not until he’s seen you to the end. When you cum, it’s in a pitiful and shameful mess, leaking all over his pretty mouth and chin with a delirious cry of his name. Your hips rut against his mouth to ride out your high, desperate and frantic. His hums of compliance into your cunt only rumble upward through your entire body, spreading the fire inside your belly spiralling outward. He would have been content eating you out for as long as possible, wedged between your legs, but at some point when your legs begin to shake from the oversensitivity, you let out a languid whine.
“Jungkook. Jungkook, come here.” Your hand falls limply from his hair to his cheek, gingerly pulling him up. 
He relents at once, allowing you to guide him back up to your face. The mess between your legs is wet and sticky and cold without him, but the sight of his mouth and nose glistening with your succulence makes you mewl delightfully. He wipes at the residue on his face, but then lets you pull him down to you to kiss so you can taste your own cum on your tongue. You already look so spent, hooded weary eyes gazing into his. You kiss the underside of his jaw, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh.
“Let me make love to you.” His throat is hoarse when he speaks, but it’s still music to your ears. 
All he can hear you murmur is a faint, “Please,” and it’s enough for him.
After fumbling uselessly for a handful of seconds, he’s somehow able to tear his joggers and boxers off. You watch as he pulls his cock free from its confinements, gripping the length in his fist as he pumps himself in measured strokes. He’s thicker than you imagined, the tip of his length an angry red and leaking with precum in pearl white beads. You can’t resist the urge to touch him, fingering the toned muscles of his abs down to his pubic bone. Your hands feel impossible cold once you grab at his member, delicately feeling his size and weight for yourself. He hisses at the feeling, stomach clenching as you take your time. 
He almost gets lost in your hands working magic against him and you don’t even mean to be. He has to grab your wrist at some point, muttering breathlessly, “If you keep touching me like that, I’m gonna cum.”
A smug smirk tugs at your sleepy features. “I don’t see an issue there.”
“You’re such a tease,” he pouts playfully. “I wanna feel you around me first.”
“Then I’m all yours.”
Jungkook could get used to hearing that. Not bothering to waste another moment, he props himself up over your figure with one hand. Gripping himself in his other hand, he guides himself to your entrance but pauses. Instead, he watches intently as he rubs the tip of his cock against your clit in painstaking slow circles that drive you nearly insane. Your fingers dig into his hips at the feeling, head lolling back onto his pillows. He runs the tip along your folds, the teasing sensation making your walls clench as you wait with bated breath. 
Then, he pushes into you. You immediately let out a shameless moan. He immediately freezes above you, grunting and groaning. 
“Jesus, fuck-” he whines. “I-”
But he can’t finish his sentence. Instead, he chooses to sink deeper into you, slowly and carefully, until he’s burrowed hilt deep into your pussy. He chokes on nothing but air at the feeling of your warmth, the way his cock is coaxed so easily by your wetness. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, a muffled moan tumbling from his lips.
“Shit, you’re so wet,” he cries. “Practically dripping around me. So fucking nice.”
“Jungkook-” You can only manage a weak gasp. 
You kick your legs up to wrap around his hips, pulling him deeper into you. Your walls clench and unclench around his length continuously, in a pattern that he’s certain will surely milk him dry before he’s even had the chance to fuck you properly. But somehow, miraculously, he refrains from letting go so soon. 
“Okay. Okay, okay,” he hums mostly to himself. “I’m gonna-”
He pauses to roll his hips into yours, earning a moan from both of you. He does it again, again, and again, each time just as leisurely. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp as he fucks into you, each jolt of his hips sending you tumbling closer to that edge. Then he pulls out just enough to slam his hips back into yours. His strokes are long and deep, his cock nestling into you as far as it can go until it feels like it's in the back of your throat before pulling out again. Your arms wrap around his back, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. He doesn’t seem to mind when you accidentally scratch at his skin, too absorbed in the way you’re making him feel. He refuses to go any further from you, content being enveloped in your hold as he drives you to insanity. 
Then, he hits an angle in you that has you crying out abruptly. “Oh my God, Jungkook-”
“I know,” he moans. “Fucking hell, I know.”
There’s something so indescribably hot to him, so intimate and genuine, of being burrowed into your walls raw and bare with nothing to obscure that connection. It sends his head spinning, stars blinding his eyes. He kisses sloppily at your neck, chest pressed flush against yours. Still riddled with the sensitivity from your first orgasm, you reach your second one with open arms and unexpectedly. It creeps upon you so suddenly, that all you can do is repeat Jungkook’s name in a mantra as you try to keep a hold on reality. It comes all at once, a gushing sensation between your legs. Just a wet pool of your cum that leaks around and down his length. Each thrust he makes is accentuated by the lewd noise of him slipping into your core again and again. When you come to, he’s whispering sweet encouraging words into your ear, coaxing you through your high. 
In the heat of the moment and in his delirious mind, he can only focus on one question. He squeezes his eyes shut, sweat beginning to form on his forehead. “Do you- Fuck-” he gasps. “Do you love me?”
He’s completely mesmerized by the way your breasts bounce with each thrust of his hips, and how they feel so close to his heart. One of his hands flies out to grip at your stomach, the metal of his rings rough and jagged as it digs into your skin but you hardly pay attention.
You cry out, your voice a broken yet satisfied sob when you say, “I do. Oh my God, Jungkook- I love you.”
The burning sensation between your legs as he fucks you past your second orgasm has you squirming beneath him until he, too, is reaching his high. He cums into you all at once, releasing his hot seed in waves. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, a shuddering whimper mixing with the sound of your name. He only pauses long enough to fill you to the brim until you’re leaking with his pearl white cum that drips down his own cock. 
You grab for his face, kissing him feverishly and sluggishly, nipping and sucking at his lower lip. He pushes your thighs apart from his waist, collapsing against you as he rolls his hips into your own to ride out both your highs and, in the process, fuck his cum deeper into you. When he’s spent, he falls upon your chest with a heavy sigh. His face burrows this time into your collarbones, and your fingers run through his hair lightly as his softening cock stays warm inside your walls.
In the silence and afterglow of sex that ensues, you hold one another close to each other, too exhausted to move. At some point, Jungkook shifts to look up at you. 
“We’ll make it work, just so you know,” he promises. “Us, and the band, and touring. Even if I have to take you with me on tour. I don’t care.”
You know he’ll keep to his promise, and you know that maybe the future won’t be so bad now that you have Jungkook by your side. But, for now, you’re content with where you are, wrapped up in his arms in his bed. After he’s pulled out of you and helped you clean up the mess between your legs, you find yourself curled up to his side on his mattress.
“Did you mean it, by the way?” he asks in a whisper at some point when you’ve begun to nod off to sleep. “When you said it?”
You hum in response, brushing your nose against his neck. “Yes.”
“Say it again. Please.”
“I’m in love with you.” You’re in a daze when you whisper it, and all because of him. You’re gazing at him so gently, your fingers reaching up to trace his own lips. Then, he’s grinning mischievously.
“Meant the other part,” he taunts. “Where you called yourself stupid for always pushing me away.”
“Oh my god,” You gasp aloud. “You’re an idiot. But you’re my idiot. I love you, Jungkook.”
“I do believe that means you owe me a bowl of that delicious ramyun, princess.”
He doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes at him. And even though he can give you a headache at times, and is perhaps entirely worth all the trouble he gives you, you can’t deny the fact that he is your best friend, and you are in love with him. Really, there’s no place you’d rather be, and no one else you’d rather be with than him.
“Whatever you say, lover boy.”
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zibermuda · 10 months ago
all over you (1) | jjk
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Summary — you don't usually go for the quiet, nerdy type, but Jungkook's by far the best looking guy in your year. You just can't help yourself. You have to have him. Small hiccup; he hates you. 
Genre — smut (e2l, nerd!jk, fuckgirl!reader)
Words — 8,886
Warnings — unprotected sex, body praise, finger sucking, nipple play, light choking, biting, masturbation, oral (male and female receiving), fingering in the library, swearing
one | two | three | four/final
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masterlist || request
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Jungkook catches your eye as you pass through the library. His features haven't gone unnoticed by you; wavy, dark hair, deep eyes, jaw carved by gods good chisel, and a body to die for. Not to mention, he’s always top of his class and still manages to find the time to run a campus gaming club. He’s literally everything. 
You're only here to return a textbook, but you're way too captivated by his presence to complete the task. This happens almost every time you see him. These scenarios usually begin with you handing him a compliment and end with him telling you to go away. Alright. Maybe you had an embarrassing run-in with him at a party that left him despising you, but that's not going to stop you from striking up friendly conversation. You’re more than mutuals. You’ve been at the same college for the past two years and your fathers are work colleagues and regularly drink together. Let’s just say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
"Hi, handsome." You pull up a seat opposite him and give his outfit a once-over — jeans and a black sweater. Take me now. He used to wear thin, black rimmed glasses, but has recently opted for contacts. You’re starting to miss stealing and trying them on. "What you doin’?"
When he looks up at you with a dull expression, you can't help but catch your bottom lip between your teeth. The faint taste of your strawberry lipgloss pools on your tongue. He’s so fucking hot. 
“Y/N, I'm busy.” He says lowly as to not disturb other studying students. “Can you go and annoy someone else?"
“My gosh.” You take one of his pens and twirl it between your fingers. “You’re always so rude to me. I wonder why.” 
“You know why.” He reaches for his pen, but you pull it away from his touch. A smile tugs at your glossy lips. If he wants to play hard to get, that's fine, but you're certain he'll be captivated by you soon enough.
You stand up from your chair and lean over his desk. With a slow, but purposeful movement of your fingers, you slide the pen behind his ear and lace your voice with bitter sweetness. “Don’t be such a baby. You know I didn't mean it."
You really didn't mean what you said. Besides, it was months and months ago. You were drunk and pissed off. He had done plenty of ignoring prior to the party incident, but after the fact just made it so much worse. It's almost unbearable. You want to get under his skin so bad, but he's proving to be immune to everything you pull.
He offers you a glare, but fails to intimidate you. If anything, he looks adorable. “Maybe you didn’t, but I did.” 
It’s your turn to glare. “I’m telling your daddy.” 
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As you're wandering down the hallway with classmate Hoseok by your side, you notice a familiar-looking flyer pinned to the notice board. The paper is a light violet tone and has almost been completely covered by other flyers and notices. It's Jungkook's gaming club — every Friday at 4PM, located in classroom G13.
It’s 4:34PM. You should have enough time to make an appearance. 
“Y/N.” Hoseok leans against the wall and takes a generous bite from his cereal bar. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of joining that club. He already hates you.” 
Hoseok is well-acquainted with every clique on campus. His charming, laidback and loyal personality is loved by many and will continue to serve him well in his future life. He’s not super close with Jungkook, but when you want to know something, he’ll make light work of finding out for you. 
“He needs to get over it.” You roll your eyes in remembrance. “I mean, that party was months ago.” 
"You literally told him he had a small dick."
“So? He said I had small tits.” 
"Yeah, but he said that after you said he had a small dick. He kind of had the right.” He devours the rest of his cereal before continuing his rant. “You’re really doing all of this for what? Some dick? Love yourself.” 
A small smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as you pull off the flyer and re-pin it on top of all the others. You've finished all your classes for the day, so why shouldn't you take this free time to explore your interests? What better way than by joining a club? More specifically, what better way than by joining Jungkook’s gaming club?
“His face is the perfect seat.” 
“Absolutely no shame.” Hoseok shakes his head, but amusement is written all over his features. He’s been hearing about your Jungkook-filled fantasies since the dawn of time, so it’s not as shocking anymore. Before he leaves you to your own devices, he makes one last request. “Come to Tae’s party tonight?” 
You’re not one to ever miss a party, so you promise to turn up. Parties are the best gatherings to get your flirt, dress and matching heels on. Jungkook sometimes makes an appearance, too. This one time — he wore tight pants and a button up shirt and by the end of the night, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows and a few buttons had been pulled off from play-fighting with Taehyung. What a great fucking night.
Him and Taehyung were partnered up for a group assignment earlier in the year and have been mates ever since. You’ve come to the conclusion that hot people like to be around other hot people. 
Classroom G13 is only a few doors down, so you make your way over with a swing of your hips. The room is mainly used for I.T classes, hence why the gaming club books it for their Friday sessions. 
You barge into the classroom and try to take in the foreign atmosphere. There are five other guys sat at computers, who look as equally shocked as each-other at the sudden appearance of a female. The majority are wearing glasses and have on an oversized tee-shirt with a gaming character printed on the front. Jungkook is the last to look up. His face twists at the sight of you. 
“What are you doing here?” He asks bitterly. If his friends weren't here, he would probably escort you out himself.
“I’m here to join your club, silly.” Your smile doesn’t falter as you wander over to his desk. Your skirt is so short, one bend and you’re a playboy exhibition. 
“This is a club for gamers.” 
“Ok and?” You raise one of your perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “I’m level 134 on Candy Crush.” 
A few strands of his dark hair fall over his forehead as he glares up at you from his seat. He’s never been as speechless as he is right now. Just when he thought you couldn’t infiltrate his life any further, you do this.
One of the members’ clears his throat before speaking up. His voice is deep and rich, and his short hair has been dyed an un-natural blonde. He's kind of cute. "I think it would be great to have a girl join our club — diversity and all."
All the other members nod in agreement and that’s that. Jungkook’s outvoted 4 to 1. To show your gratitude, you hand each of them a smile and watch in amusement as they swoon over your confidence. They're already in love with you. Except for one.
“Fine.” Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers and emits an exaggerated sigh. "You can join, but if you cause any trouble, you're out."
"I would never cause any trouble." You offer him a disingenuous smile before spinning in your chair to face the others. "Are you boys coming to Taehyung's party tonight? A little birdie told me there's room for six more attendees."
He places a hand on your chair and turns you back toward him. The sleeves of his black sweater have been rolled to his elbows, revealing his bronzed forearms. Oh, what you would do to have them wrapped around your waist. "Y/N, what did I just say?"
“Are you gonna punish me for it?" You drop the volume of your voice, but make sure it’s loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Don’t hold back. You know I like it rough.” 
Your suggestive response sparks the curious mind of the same blonde-haired boy. He asks a question that has a mischievous smile settling on your lips. “Are you two dating?”
You’ve never seen Jungkook look so offended, but you’ve never felt so satisfied to hear those words. “Absolutely. I’m his girlfriend.” 
“No, you’re not.” Jungkook quickly dismisses the suggestion. “We’re not dating.” 
“We’re on a break.” 
“God, you’re so annoying.” Jungkook brushes off the topic of conversation by logging you onto a computer and pulling up a video game for you to play. It’s a little bit concerning that he visits a gaming website for children. 
"What's this?" You stare at him blankly. The graphics on your game are pathetic compared to his. It's probably for the best, though, considering how little you know about the topic.
"A game you’ll understand." He scoots his chair closer to yours and takes charge of your mouse. A waft of expensive cologne greets your nose and you swear you’ve never smelt anything as sexy. "People will order pancakes and you’ll make them."
It's intriguing for twenty minutes, but then you grow sick of it. The orders are never ending and the timer gives you an unparalleled sense of anxiety. Not to mention, you keep getting distracted by Jungkook’s concentrating face — furrowed eyebrows, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He seems to be good at whatever game he’s playing. You wonder what else he’s good at. 
When it hits 5:20PM, you decide you've had enough. You're so bored, not even the sight of Jungkook could force you to stay. Besides, you have to get ready for Taehyung's party. If you arrive early enough, you can get in some pre-game shots.
“Jungkook.” You lightly kick his ankle, but he doesn’t pay any mind. Your second attempt is a lot more aggressive. 
“God, what?” He finally pulls his eyes away from the screen.
“Can you come to Taehyung’s party tonight?” You look up at him through your mascara-slick eyelashes. 
He’s unfazed. “No.” 
“Perfect. I’ll see you there.” You stand up and straighten the fabric of your mini skirt. "Oh, and I know you don't care, but your dad told my dad about your scholarship. You obviously worked hard for it, so congrats!”
Jungkook blinks back his confusion. Every other person had congratulated him on his natural big brain, but that's not quite how it worked out for him. He worked his ass off for that scholarship, so when he received it, it was kind of a slap in the face to hear people say it came easy to him. 
“Thanks.” He says quietly before getting back to his game. 
“Bye, boys.” You give a little wave before disappearing down the hallway and toward your dormitory building. 
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Your dorm room is just as messy as you left it — clothes sprawled all over the floor and stacks of useless papers sat atop your desk. You've been meaning to clean up for weeks, but your attention span doesn't tolerate housework of any kind. If the dormitory supervisor saw the state of your room, you’d be kicked out before you can recite your ABCs.
After emitting a deep sigh and a strangled groan, you muster up the willpower to get it done. It takes a lot longer than you anticipate, mostly because you spend half the time scrolling through Spotify for upbeat songs to get you in the cleaning mood. It reaches 7:47PM when you hang up your last mini-skirt. There’s no way you’ll be able to pre-game. The party will be in full swing by now. 
As you’re rummaging in your closet for your sexiest dress, you receive a text from Hoseok. He’s already at the party and so is Jungkook by the looks of things. Of course he is.
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You examine your chipped nail-polish and grimace at the state of them. They could do with a little love and attention. As you're doing so, Hoseok replies to your text. 
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Asshole. Is Jungkook ever going to get over himself? That party was eons ago.
You decide to focus on more pressing issues, like squeezing yourself into a tight, black dress and sliding on a pair of cute heels. Your legs look bomb, as does your everything. Heads are bound to turn tonight, but you're only interested in making one head of fluffy, dark hair turn. 
Before you make an exit, you double check the application of your makeup and apply a generous amount of lipgloss.
Taehyung's parents' house is walking distance from college campus. They're frequently away on business trips, so he takes advantage and throws parties and various other get-togethers on the regular. It's a beautiful, modern house with a fortress of white picket fences surrounding it.
You spot Hoseok right away. He's sprawled out on the couch with an almost-empty can of beer in his hand. Jungkook is sat opposite him. He too has a fist full of beer. Familiar faces are spilling from the luxurious estate and a good handful of them are already stumbling around with veins full of alcohol. To top it all off, music with a deep bass is blasting from a large speaker hanging from the living room wall. Ah, your happy place.
“Hey.” You lean down to plant a friendly kiss on Hoseok’s cheek. The fabric of your dress rides dangerous high up your thighs and you swear you feel Jungkook’s gaze waver on your skin. As he should. 
The only seat that intrigues you is the small gap between Jungkook and the blonde-haired member from the gaming club. An annoyed groan falls from Jungkook’s lips as you squeeze yourself between the two boys. And, just as you’re getting comfortable, he decides to stands up.
“Where are you going?” 
“To get another drink.” 
“Can you get me one, too?” You offer him your prettiest smile. “Please.”
He’s definitely thinking of saying no, but you would probably threaten to tell his dad or come up with some ludicrous plan to annoy him further. Defeated, he emits another sigh before wandering off to collect more drinks. As he meanders his way through the crowd, you notice a group of girls looking his way and chatting amongst themselves. It doesn’t surprise you. He's hot as fuck, smart as fuck and has a clean runway into Taehyung's clique. But, it definitely doesn’t please you either. Everyone and their grandma knows you’ve been after him since day one. 
"Fancy seeing you here." You decide to strike up conversation with the blondie, since your man-servant is currently away on duty. "I didn't quite catch your name earlier today."
"Min Yoongi." His smile is cute and his dress sense is way better than it had been earlier today. He’s sporting dark jeans and a leather jacket over a white tee-shirt. You’re definitely receiving some bad-boy-on-the-outside, good-boy-on-the-inside vibes. 
To your surprise, the chat flows with ease. You pry into his personal life and learn all kinds of fascinating things about him — he has a passion for visual arts and music, his parents are divorced, he has a younger brother. If you're not turning up to the gaming club for Jungkook, you would totally make an appearance for this guy. He's funny, too, and has you bursting into unexpected fits of giggles.
Somewhere along the lines, Jungkook returns and reluctantly hands you a cup of lemonade and vodka. Emphasis on the lemonade. There’s barely any alcohol in this concoction. His lame reasoning — your dad would kill him if something were to happen to you, plus, he really doesn’t want to be the one to carry you back to your dorm because you’re too hammered to walk. Sober you is already a pain in the ass. 
By the end of the night, you have Yoongi’s number saved into your phone and way too much alcohol in your system. You’ve definitely misspelt his name, but it’s the thought that counts. Jungkook thought he could get away with giving you watered-down drinks, but you’ve migrated to the kitchen and have taken way too many shots to count on one hand. 
It reaches 11:38PM and Jungkook makes an appearance to let Taehyung know he’s heading back to his dorm. As he talks, you suck on your bottom lip and take in the sheer sight of him. You’re a drunken mess, but your feelings are crystal clear and your eyes work just fine. 
“Hoseok.” Jungkook yells over the music after catching a glimpse of your drunken state. “Can you take her back with you?”
“I’m staying over.” Hoseok replies as he pours himself another shot. “But you can take her back.” 
“Are you serious?” Jungkook takes in the state of you — disheveled hair, low eyes, barely able to stand by yourself without the help of the kitchen counter. Hoseok isn’t going to take you back to campus, so that leaves very few sober volunteers. He can’t just leave you in a house full of other drunk idiots. Your dad would murder him.
During his mental debate, he runs his fingers through his tousled hair and emits the fiftieth sigh of the night. 
“Y/N.” He hesitantly holds out his hand, but you take it without an ounce of delay. It’s warm and fits perfectly around your your own.
In contrast, the cold nights air bites your exposed skin and you shiver at the feeling. You should’ve brought a jacket with you. The weather has been terrible for months, but you regularly refuse to dress for the occasion. Fashion before comfort or whatever the runway models say. 
After helping you trudge down the porch staircase in your heels, Jungkook tugs his hand free and shoves it into the pocket of his jacket. 
“Slow down!” You whine after him. He’s already traveled many meters ahead of you. “I’m wearing heels!”
“So take them off.” He retaliates, but ends up slowing down anyway. Jungkook is one of those people who will be doing something while ranting about how he will never do the act he’s currently doing. It makes him very predictable and easy to persuade. 
The moon isn’t doing a very good job at lighting the surroundings, so you rely on the flickering bulbs of the street lamps. Every now and then you become confused by the cracks in the concrete and slow to an irritatingly snail-like pace.
“Y/N.” He notices your consistent stumbling. “Walk.”
“I can’t.” You pout. “It’s all swirly.”
He hasn’t got time for this. He has an important class at 8AM and would like to get at-least six hours of sleep tonight. The chancellor would raise a very concerned eyebrow if she saw his grades slipping in the slightest. She didn’t hand him that scholarship for nothing. 
After muttering a few fruity profanities to himself, he leans down and throws your body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. To keep your modesty in tact, he tugs on the fabric of your dress to cover more of your exposed skin. 
You’ve definitely had a dream about this. It involved a-lot more sex, though. 
They say time flies when you’re having fun and that must be true because he reaches your dormitory building before you can even fully process his grip on your waist.
He tries your dormitory door, but it’s locked shut. Your feet have been placed firmly on the floor at this point. “Where’s your key?”
“In my bra.” You snake your fingers into the tight, lacy fabric and pull out your dormitory key. 
He catches himself watching the suggestive manoeuvre with a raised eyebrow, but quickly dismisses it by heading back down the hallway. His room is in the same dormitory building as yours, just a floor below. 
“Goodnight!” You yell after him before disappearing into your room, crawling into bed and falling into a deep sleep. Your hangover ought to be hellish, but you’ll be sure to remember the feeling of his hands on your waist in the morning. 
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Another Friday rolls around and you find yourself at the gaming club at 4PM sharp. Punctuality sure isn’t the other members’ strong suit, because none of them have turned up yet. Except for your two favourite boys — Jeon Jungkook and Min Yoongi.
“Hey.” You ruffle Jungkook’s hair as you wander past his desk. His eyes follow your figure simply because your outfit is so bright and full of personality. Not for any other reason. “How’s daddy Jeon?” 
“He’s fine.” He can’t help but notice when you sit next to Yoongi instead of him, but it’s not like he gives a fuck or anything. All you do is annoy him. He deserves a break, especially after last weeks ordeal.
The other members turn up in due time and begin their online tournament. Yourself and Yoongi are having a blast. He's teaching you how to play his favourite video game and he's doing so in the most playful manner. Jungkook would probably throw the computer out the window right after he throws you. His patience is thin when it comes to you. 
As you press on the keys like a fool, Yoongi places his hand on top of yours and guides your fingers to the correct keys. The constant burst of giggles has Jungkook darting his eyes over to the scene. He notices the way your nose scrunches slightly when you laugh. He then realises he's never made you laugh like that. 
This is the first time you captivate him.
Another Friday swings by. Like last week, you sit with Yoongi and spend most of the time fiddling with your jewellery and laughing at his jokes. He introduces you further to the other members and includes you in every conversation to ensure you’re not left out. If anyones left out, it’s Jungkook. He’s sat at the opposite end of the classroom with a blank expression plastered to his face. Your annoyingness has reduced massively since you’ve become acquainted with Yoongi and he’s definitely noticed. 
Your sweet laugh forces him to pull his eyes away from the computer screen and watch as you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound. Before he can stop himself, he starts noticing things about you that he had forced himself to ignore — like how glossed up your lips always are, how you chew on your bottom lip when you're contemplating, how pretty your neck is, how much he likes how you dress yourself. His eyes trail below the desk, where your bare thighs are poking out from your skirt. As you switch the cross position of your legs, he catches a glimpse of your underwear.
This is the second time you captivate him and it’s starting to piss him off.
He may be a young man with raging hormones, but he’s supposed to be immune to you. Your pheromones and general attractiveness had just been traits he was aware you possessed, but now he has to deal with the feelings they’ve solicited from deep within him. 
For a few more minutes afterwards, he tries his best to evict the image of your thighs from his mind, but it doesn’t work at all. He even pulls out a stack of homework, but just can’t seem to focus on a single equation. This isn’t supposed to happen to him.
In an abrupt manner, he stands up from his seat, grabs his stuff and leaves the classroom. You don’t even notice he’s gone until you look up from Yoongi’s computer and his seat is empty.
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On a fateful Tuesday, you bump into Jungkook in the hallway. Literally. Chest to chest. In this moment, he feels like his entire view on you has shifted. He's looking at you like he's never seen anything so pretty, but you don’t quite read his expression as it is.l 
“Sorry, handsome.” You offer him a compliment to make up for the fact that his books are now sprawled all over the floor. Without giving it too much thought, you bend over and help him pick up his stuff. The fabric of your skirt bunches at your thighs and reveals more of your skin. He’s staring, but you’re oblivious to the fact. 
You’re oblivious to it all. You don’t notice anything. Not even when you're chewing on the end of a pencil during class and he's watching the movement of your lips. Not even when you tilt your head as you’re listening to the lecture and he's tracing the curve of your throat with his eyes. This goes on for many more weeks. Almost two months have passed since he founded this interest in you, but time isn’t making it go away. It’s just making it worse. 
You continue to greet him as you would, and by greet — look him up and down and thank his parents for having sex. You continue to ruffle his hair when you catch him in the library and you continue to rant to Hoseok about how much you want him to HIFTB. His replies are no-where near as dismissive as they had been, but you don’t think too much of it. Maybe he’s just in a good mood for once. You still have the fattest crush on him. Hell, you’ll probably fancy him until you die, but you’ve laid off a lot of the annoying remarks. He’s noticed. 
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“Do you like my nails?” You startle Jungkook as you slap your hands on top of his textbook. He’s been studying in the library for the past two hours and didn’t notice you walk in. “They match my bra.”
He tries to stifle a gulp as you hold up your fingers to a dusty pink bralette peeking out from your blouse. 
“Yeah.” His voice comes out a little croaky. You want to fuck it. Scratch that. You want his voice to fuck you. 
With a smile, you drape your arm across his shoulder and lean forward to read his work. He thinks you have such a pretty smile. In the many hours he’s been sat here, he’s only managed to write down one sentence. His mind has been occupied with a certain mini-skirt, lip-gloss wearing girl. 
“Study blues?” You query with an idea in mind. “Do you want to come to Tae’s? His pool is heated.” 
It doesn’t take that much convincing for him to pack up his books and walk with you all the way to Taehyung’s house. Only a handful of friends have been invited over this time. Last months party took eons to clean up and some fuck-head smashed the mirror in his parents bathroom. So, to play it safe, he’s been keeping the parties a lot more low-key. 
Hoseok is here, along with Taehyung’s girlfriend, Kaya. She’s a gorgeous brunette with pretty eyes and a contagious smile. They’ve been together for a little over a year and make dating look like a walk in the park. You’re not as close to her as you are with Hoseok, but you still consider her a good friend. 
Taehyung captures Jungkook in a headlock and ruffles his hair. In return, Jungkook tangles his foot with Taehyung’s and tries to trip him over. They’re like a pair of un-trained puppies. 
“Is this the pretty-boy Jungkook?” Kaya giggles as you join her by the side of the pool. She graduated college last year, so hasn’t had the chance to run into him in the hall-ways. She’s heard a lot about him from you, though. All good, of course.
“Cute, right?” You pull your blouse over your head and tug down your tight skirt. The weather is actually nice for once, so you can finally soak up some well-deserved vitamin D. 
Nobody has bothered to wear actual swimwear. Kaya is in her underwear, too — a dee blue bra and matching panties. Knowing Taehyung, he’ll probably strip down butt-ass naked and cannon-ball into the water. When it comes to nudity, he’s not shy at all. Ask the local police. 
As you discard your clothes on a nearby lounge-chair, Jungkook becomes mesmerised by the unique curves of your figure. Whenever you wear tight jeans or a mini skirt, he catches himself staring like he has the right to. He knows it’s inappropriate, but his mind wanders to the thought of you when he’s alone in his dorm. On most nights, he runs his thumb over the tip of his cock and thinks of your mouth, your thighs, your tits, your laugh. Everything and anything about you has the ability to turn him on. He’s not entirely sure why he’s so infatuated by you, but he’s never going to admit that your new interest in Yoongi caused it. 
“Dude.” Hoseok snaps him from his wildly-inappropriate thoughts. “Don’t tell me it’s finally happened.”
Jungkook pulls his shirt over his head and does a pretty good job at acting perplexed, but Hoseok knows and sees all. “What?”
“You’re in love with her.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I get it, man.” Hoseok takes a swig from his beer can and gestures toward your figure. “You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
“I’m not in love with her.” Jungkook repeats with an extra sternness to his voice. God, that’s such a lie. Let’s see what he’d say if he was put on the stand. 
“Well then you’re trying to get laid by her specifically.” They both peer at you as you laugh and splash water at Kaya. It’s like watching some erotic perfume commercial that leaves you with a boner and a head full of confusion. “It’s between those two.” 
He’s not wrong. It is between those two, but he’s not one to admit his feelings, especially not for a girl he’s supposed to despise. The pair of you have a Tom and Jerry complex and everybody knows it. 
For someone who takes it easy on physical exercise, Jungkook sure is toned. It doesn’t really surprise you, though, since his father is three times the size. You’re convinced his entire family is made from muscle and shares DNA with the hulk. His mother is a pretty, athletic woman with an intriguing personality. She’s an angel, but she doesn’t beat around the bush. When she has the time and energy, she visits with her husband and has a few drinks at your fathers house. 
As Jungkook’s lowering himself into the water and you’re staring at his defined abdomen, he catches your gaze for a lot longer than you anticipate. For the first time in forever, you stare at each-other without an ounce of detest in either of your expressions. You’re not one to feel embarrassed or giddy over things like this, but he sure does have an effect on you.
“Hey.” Hoseok snaps you from your explicit thoughts by draping an arm over your shoulders. He keeps his voice low and personal. “I need you to flirt with Yoongi.”
“Why?” You ask, utterly perplexed.
“I’m testing a theory.” 
You're not quite sure what he means by any of that. Yourself and Yoongi had established months ago that your relationship was purely platonic. He gets you and you just get him. Your family situations are similar enough for comfort to be found within each-other’s presence. 
For most of the afternoon, you offer Yoongi your best smile and banter with him like you usually would. There’s no fun or respect in leading him on to test Hoseok’s secret theory, so you don’t. Besides, you can’t quite seem to make the same flirtatious remarks toward him that you would usually make toward Jungkook. You’re just friends. And, Jungkook is your future baby daddy. That’s how it’ll always be.
As the sun begins to set, the energy simmers down and the meaningful conversations about future life begin. Taehyung goes on a rant about how his father is forcing him to take over his pharmaceutical company. And, to comfort him in his lack of career choices, Kaya places a chaste kiss against his cheek. They’re adorable. If they ever break up, you’ll throw a fit. 
The five of you are sat on the stairs at the shallow end of the luxury-sized pool. You’ve been in the water for so long that your fingers have started to wrinkle, but that’s what it’s all about. Is it really a pool party if your fingers don’t look like nasty ass raisins by the end of it? The answer is no. 
Taehyung’s rant turns diabolical. You wrap your arms around Yoongi’s neck and rest your chin on his shoulder as you’re listening to the profanities pouring from Taehyung’s mouth. This is something you’ve always wanted to do with Jungkook, among other physical pursuits. Skin-ship is your way of expressing affection for friends, family, cats, dogs etc. How will a dog ever know you have love for it if you don’t pet its fluffy, little head? 
Hoseok’s wise gaze wanders to Jungkook, who’s looking more pissed off than ever — tight jaw, furrowed brows and a death-inducing glare aimed toward the one you have your arms around. Hoseok been handing Jungkook i-told-you-so looks for most of the afternoon. Sometimes, he finds it tiring to be right all the time, but this particular situation is juicier than anything he’s ever stuck his beak into it. 
Jungkook knows you’re a handsy person, but he still wants to hold Yoongi’s head underwater until he gets the message. If he could put it into words, he would say you and him are in a pending relationship. If you heard those words, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. What first? Sex or marriage? 
The sun has now completely set and you’ve migrated to the kitchen for a fruitier selection of drinks. There’s only a certain amount of vodka you can drink before growing tired of the horrific taste.
Taehyung and Kaya have resorted to making out on the lounge-chair and you’re pretty sure Hoseok has passed out from fatigue. It’s only 8:25PM, but swimming seems to really knock the energy out of a person. 
“So.” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your wandering thoughts. You don’t have any recollection of him walking into the kitchen, but you’re definitely not complaining. His hair is still damp and his clothes have been returned to his body (unfortunately.) “Yoongi?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You query with a raised eyebrow. You’re not sure who’s shirt your wearing, but it’s long enough to hang over your thighs. It’s probably Hoseok’s.
“Are you seeing him?” Jungkook does a grand job of keeping his gaze above your chin. And, even though you’re without your tight skirt, glossy lips and mascara, you look the same to him. There’s a different aura to you like this, though. Almost precious. 
“I’m not seeing anyone, Jungkook.” You offer him one of your pretty, playful smiles. “You know I like you.”
He knows, but it feel good to hear it from your pretty lips.
“Do you want a drink?” You ask as you’re rummaging in the fridge. It’s full to the brim with alcohol, lemonade and orange juice. “We have cruisers, straight vodka, tequ-”
The rest of that sentence is replaced by a sharp gasp. His fingers ghost up the side of your thigh and become familiar with the lacy fabric of your underwear. And, when you turn around to face him, you become certain he’s going to kiss you — his eyes are trained on your mouth and his touch is way too intimate to be mistaken. You really want him to kiss you. 
He traps his lip between his teeth for a brief moment before leaning down to capture your mouth in a long-time-coming kiss. You've fantasised about this moment more times than you can count, but your imagination has always labeled him as submissive. You now know you’re wrong because he's the one to swipe his tongue over your lips and he's the one to pry open your mouth and introduce his tongue to yours. When he breaks for air, you emit a soft whine in annoyance. 
That can’t be it. Please, god, that cannot be all you’re getting.
He plans on trailing his hands further against your skin, but the sound of the sliding door stops him in his tracks. In a state of confusion, he moves away from you like nothing has just happened. Hoseok wanders into the kitchen with sleepy eyes and a towel draped over his bare shoulders. 
“Did you guys fuck on the counter or something?” He asks after noticing the stiff tension in the air. “Both of your stances are.. suspect.” 
You really expect Jungkook to say he kissed you. Why shouldn’t he? He just kissed you like you’re the last woman on earth, which is a big fucking deal. But, to your distaste, he lies. 
“We were talking about her dad.” Jungkook has a natural talent for shifting the truth. You’re starting to realise that. “He’s being promoted.”
“Alright. That’s good news.” Hoseok grabs a cruiser from the fridge and nods in approval. His eyes wander to the shirt hanging from your figure. “Is that my shirt, by the way?”
You look down at your half-covered body. Jungkook does the same out of habit. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll change.”
“It’s fine.” Hoseok says as he’s heading back outside. “Come join me for drinks, though. It’s not that cold outside.” 
When you’re certain he’s out of ears-length, you hand Jungkook a deep frown.
“I didn’t know what to say.”
“Really?” You say with a hardening tone. You’re not sure what mix of emotions have washed over you, but embarrassment is definitely in there. “That was dick move. Even for you.”
You imagined the first kiss to be sexier, full of passion, public, but it didn’t quite check all those boxes. It just made you feel cheap and unworthy. Is he that embarrassed to be seen with you? Are you that repulsive? If you had known he would react this way, you never would have kissed him back. Maybe he’s more of an asshole than you had initially led yourself to believe. 
Without bothering to say another word, you grab your belongings and walk back to campus barefooted. He doesn’t try to stop you, which just pisses you off even more. What was the fucking point of kissing you then?
Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook! From this day forth, you declare to dismiss your love for that boy and his chiseled abs. 
Later that night, you lay in your dorm-room bed with a frown plastered to your face. Jungkook lays in his with his pillow smothered over his face and a heart full of regret.  
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Monday morning swings by way too quickly for your liking. You haven’t said a word to Jungkook since last Friday’s incident. He’s made a few attempts to catch you after classes, but you’ve ignored all of them. His gaming club can go suck a fat dick, too. 
Great, you think to yourself. Another take-home assignment due next week that the professor forgot to hand out when he was supposed to. You would use the content from the lecture slides, but they contain little to no substance, which is exactly why you're browsing the library for a textbook on the topic. There's quite a few to choose from, but you settle on a slick, white textbook and slide it under your arm. That'll do.
You find yourself wandering down the isles of bookshelves until you're glossing over the sci-fi section. It's furthest away from the library entrance and the final isle of novels. You've never been one to read sci-fi, but these book covers look quite intriguing. Jungkook has probably read most of these.
“Hey." A familiar voice greets. Jungkook had been browsing for novels and caught sight of your glowing skin through the gaps of the stacked books. Alright. That’s a lie. He saw you walk into the library and knew you would be somewhere down here. 
He’s looking like his usual handsome self, dressed in fitted jeans and a white tee-shirt, but he has a certain aura to him. You can't quite pinpoint it. His dark locks have been brushed away from his eyes, but a few non-compliant stands have fallen over his forehead. He's extremely fuck-able.. Hey, snap out of it! You’re supposed to hate him right now. 
You decide not to respond. After-all, you’re still pissed. If he’s so unconventionally embarrassed to be seen with you, then you’d rather not have anything to do with him.
"You look pretty today."
You pull your eyes away from the blurb you were pretending to read and raise an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
As you turn to face him fully, his eyes drop to your torso, where a corset style blouse is hugging your figure. A dainty silver necklace hangs from your neck and glistens in sync with your glossy lips. 
“That’s all you have to say?” You scoff and return the sci-fi novel to where you found it. 
As you move to push past him, he places a hand on your waist and guides your back to the bookshelf. There’s an immense amount of sexual tension between the two of you, but you’re strong enough to contain yourself. If he wants you, he can make the next move. You’ve given him the green light plenty of times. 
“Why are you being so difficult?”
“Because you’re being a fucking asshole.” You retaliate with a frown. “I’m not playing this game anymore.”
“What? You started it when you fucked around with Yoongi.” His tone is laced with a stupid amount of annoyance. He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. “You knew I liked you.”
“No, I didn’t! But, maybe I would’ve known if you had just acted like a man and told me!” 
The pair of you play a petty game of ‘who can glare the hardest’, until someone finally speaks up. Hint: it’s not you. 
“You’re such a pain in the ass.” He clicks his tongue at your unfaltering expression. “I was confused. I didn’t mean to lie about the kiss.”
“Fuck you and your confusion.” You scowl, but you’re fully aware he has you wrapped around his finger. The look on your face and the stutter in your breath is a dead giveaway. The tables are constantly turning.
His face is inches away from your own. And, these few inches between lips is the only thing standing in the way of your desire — his mouth on yours, your mouth on his. 
“Are you going to let me?” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his digit into your mouth. “Fuck you?”
You absolutely are. It’s not news to anyone. With no shame whatsoever, you swipe your tongue over his thumb and begin sucking on it like you would his cock. The sinful act alone has his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans and heat crawling up his neck. With a swift movement, he replaces his thumb with his tongue and kisses you like this is the last kiss you’ll ever share. It’s so intense. You feel your head growing cloudy from the lack of oxygen. 
You snake your arms around his neck and pull his chest flush against yours. The textbook has since found its way to the floor, but that’s the least of your worries. The back of your head hits the bookshelf with a light thump and you emit a quiet groan at the impact. You've had a few kisses in your lifetime, but this one definitely takes the win. It's so unexpected, so rough, so passionate. Someone could walk by and spot the erotic scene unfolding down the sci-fi isle, but you highly doubt that'll happen. It's poorly lit and the shelves hold outdated novels.
Daringly, he runs his hands down your ass, under your skirt and then ghosts his fingers over your lacy underwear. A gasp rips from your throat as he pushes aside the fabric to rub against your clit with his middle finger. He’s a smart boy, which is exactly why his finger slides into your pussy without wasting another second. You’ve never been wetter, so you take him with ease. 
“Fuck..” You manage to breathe against his hungry lips. He should know you’re not one to keep quiet. “..We’re in the library.”
You try your hardest to stifle your whines as he fucks you with a second finger. A handful of your sweet sounds are lost on his tongue, but that doesn’t take away from the risk. If you were to get caught by a janitor or worse, a librarian, you’d be in so much trouble. They would probably send you packing back to daddy.
Jungkook trails his lips along your jaw and then down your neck. He’s wanted to bite you for the longest time, so he just fucking does it. His teeth nips at your skin and his tongue rubs over the fresh hickey. 
After a few more sinful movements of his fingers, he takes his arousal-slick digits into his mouth and watches as you fix the length of your mini-skirt. His lips and a little of his chin are slick with your lipgloss and your arousal. It’s a glorious sight to behold. 
Before you begin the trek to your dormitory, you spend a generous amount of time making out against the bookshelf. It’s long overdue. But, when you brush your fingers against the length of his erection, you decide it’s time to get the fuck out of here. You can’t wait any longer and neither can he.
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To your detest, the dormitory supervisor catches the pair of you before you manage to unlock your dorm-room. The throbbing between your legs cannot wait much longer, so this better be snappy. 
With one hand on your dormitory key and the other impatiently tapping against your thigh, you watch the unnecessary conversation unfold. 
“Jeon Jungkook.” The supervisor calls from down the hall. She does a little jog to catch up to you two. “I didn’t realise you were tutoring.” 
Yeah, he’s about to tutor you in anatomy and the inner workings. Now, hurry the fuck up. 
“She sucks at math.” He says without any hesitation, earning a subtle glare from you. “I’m just doing my bit.” 
The supervisor gives a nod of approval before continuing her patrol down the length of the hallway. 
Fucking finally.
The door barely manages to close before his lips and hands make their return to your skin. With his tongue against with your own and his fingers hooked underneath your underwear, you pray that this moment never comes to an end. There's a time and place to have slow, sensual and romantic kisses, but now is definitely not that time. You've had almost two years of pent of sexual frustration and he's had a few months of his own. All you want to do is have sex like amateurs and talk about the romantics of it all afterwards.
With hasty and clumsy fingers, you tug off each-others clothing and admire the blank canvases that are your bodies. You trace the indents of his toned abdomen with your fingers — like you've always wanted to do — and nibble on your bottle lip as he places wet kisses against your neck.
Somewhere along the lines, you migrate to your bed. You're so fucking glad you've been keeping on top of your housework, but you doubt that would make any difference to any of this. You were literally about to have sex in the library ten minutes ago.
"Jesus." He runs his hands along your sides before dragging his tongue up your bare stomach. He could just eat you. Literally. "Your body is so fucking perfect."
You're a big fan of comfortable underwear, but you're also a big fan of pretty, lacy underwear that costs more than life itself. Today is a pretty underwear day and you're so fucking thankful. Maybe the world is on your side today. 
As Jungkook works on sliding the lacy fabric down your thighs, you make light work of unhooking the clasp of your bra and tossing it on your dresser. His immediate reaction is to emit a jesus-fucking-christ-your-body-is-so-sexy groan and take your nipple into his mouth. His other hand occupies itself by massaging the flesh of your lonesome breast. You bathe in the feeling of his tongue and rake your fingers through his dark hair. 
After leaving your nipples perked and slightly swollen, he trails lower and licks a sinful stripe against your pussy. His tongue makes light work of licking against your skin and sending your breathing into a stuttering mess. The sounds you make are music to his ears. Your thighs alone turn him on so fucking much.
“You taste as good as you look.” 
He takes his sweet time — periodically flicking his muscle against your clit until he's certain he's edging you. Your whines and constant tugging on his hair are a dead giveaway.
He hasn't even fucked you yet and you're already struggling to catch your breath. You lips are slightly swollen from the hard kissing and the lip biting, and you're wetter than he ever thought possible.
You pull his mouth back to yours for a deep kiss before dragging your fingers down his defined abdomen and then against his thick cock. Your touch forces a deep moan from his throat.
Jungkook places a tight grip on your inner thigh and finally sinks his cock into you. The feeling has you throwing your head back against the pillow and emitting a pitchy moan. You can't believe you ever said he was lacking in that department. The sheer length and girth of his cock stretches and pushes against your pussy walls like you've never felt before. This must be karma. Sweet fucking karma.
He fucks you like you deserve — hard, relentlessly, but with a romantic passion hidden behind the movement of his hips. He’s wholeheartedly in love with you and everything that makes you you. 
You don't expect it, but it fucking happens — he pulls out, flips you onto your stomach and then fucks you from behind. The new angle has him hitting an entirely new spot inside of you, but it's a delicious sensation. Audible sounds are having a hard time falling from your dry throat, but your mouth stays wide open from the impact.
He runs his hands up your spine and finds comfort in wrapping his fingers around your throat. With a new found dominance, he pulls you away from the mattress and holds your back flush against his chest. The grip of his fingers around your throat tightens slightly as he fucks up into you. Your orgasm is just around the corner. You can almost taste it.
Without losing too much pressure from his fingers, he pushes his thumb past your parted lips and coats the digit with your saliva. The saliva-slick finger then trails down your stomach and rubs fast circles against your aching clit. You're being stimulated in every way possible and it’s pushing you closer to your orgasm — his fingers wrapped around your throat, his cock fucking your pussy, his finger rubbing your clit. Not to mention, the pretty sounds he makes. His voice is deep and croaky, but holds a generous amount of velvet to it. You could listen to him on repeat for the rest of your life. 
"You feel so good." He breaths into your ear and you lose it then and there. There’s no way you can hold it in any further when he sounds like that.
With a hard clench of your pussy and a pitchy whine, you come like you’ve never come before. He fucks you through your orgasm, whispers sweet nothings against your ear and kisses along your jaw. And, after a a few more stutters of his hips, he follows in suit and comes inside of you. 
You can absolutely get used to this. The sex was ten times better than any of the scenarios you’ve been collating in your mind over the time you’ve known him. 
He tilts your head to the side to gain more access to your neck before saying those three fateful words. "I love you."
And, he does love you. He realised it when your pretty smile wasn’t in his life anymore and your giggles weren’t filling his ears. He missed you more than he’s even missed anything or anyone. He’s not confused anymore. He wants you for as long as he can have you. And, you want him just as much. 
From this day onwards, you go to parties and leave together, he holds your hand, he kisses you in public, he tells his friends his has a girlfriend, your fathers approve and he fucks you with passion.
Things couldn’t get any better, you think to yourself as you’re on your knees in classroom G13 at 3:47PM on a fateful Friday. Better make this quick before the members turn up!
Thanks for the request! 
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@zeharilisharaban @ayumimegami @philostuff​ @carolsummerlove​ @piaesthetic​ @viokook​ @bangtan-serendipity​
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gukeobi · a year ago
New Beginnings (M)
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pairing: werewolf!jeongguk x reader
genre: Slight angst, fluff (?), smut (jeongguk has a breeding kink, Alpha kink kinda, passionate jeongguk), kinda enemies to friends to lovers? lol 
words: 17.4k (i’m sorry)
warnings: blood mention, non present character death 
It was cold. Fresh snow covered the soft forest ground in a sheet of pure white, some delicately resting on the branches of the bare trees that lived around you as more continued to fall from the sky above. The iciness burned your bare hands, leaving them red, flushed and numb as your excited giggles rang throughout the empty forest like a mantra. 
You were only four years old, and every year since your birth you would visit your grandfather at his cabin in the woods. Your mother, his only daughter, had passed during childbirth and afterwards he had secluded himself to a simple cabin in the woods that was miles away from any form of civilization to continue his independent research studies. He was a retired wildlife biologist, his motivation to continue his work in a professional setting dying along with his only child. 
“Don’t wander too far now, Y/N,” Your grandfather called out to you, watching you from the patio with a smile on his face and a cup of coffee warming his hands through his thick gloves. You turned back to look at him and nodded in response to his request, cheeks flushed and a smile so wide it hurt. It was times like these in which you reminded him so much of his late daughter, the sparkle in your eyes and the snow melting in your hair.
 The thought caused a sharp pang of hurt to spread through his chest. 
Turning back to the snowy fortress in front of you, you continued to make your way through the vast never-ending whiteness with no true end goal in mind. You collected anything that caught your eye--pretty rocks, fallen leaves, and even a small collection of hellebore flowers which were hidden behind a naked tree. With your treasures held delicately in between your chubby red fingers and arms tucked tightly against your chest, your tiny legs weaved through the forest in continuously growing elation. 
Your excitement was short lived, however, when your lack of awareness resulted in your foot getting caught on a fallen branch.
“Ow,” you whispered gently, watching as blood stained the whiteness below you almost immediately. Your knee scraped against a sharp rock hidden beneath the snow during your fall, the fabric of your pants tearing upon impact and the objects that were once held protectively against your thick warm coat were now scattered across the forest floor in chaos. With tears clouding your vision, your hands gripped your bloody knee gently. 
The sound of your quiet weeps seemed to echo in the otherwise empty forest, bouncing against the trees and coming back to mock you for your obliviousness to your surroundings. The slight rustle of the snow covered bushes across from you managed to draw your attention away from your injury briefly, though what you saw was not at all what you expected.
Standing between two trees was a wolf. Its sleek black fur was a stark contrast to the pure whiteness surrounding it, the midnight inkiness unable to camouflage itself from unsuspecting eyes. It was large, towering over you impressively even with its massive paws sinking into the snow below it, leaving depressions in their wake. Its hulking physique was intimidating, muscles visibly rippling underneath its thick winter coat as it stalked towards your tiny fallen figure. 
You watched in awe and slight nervousness as it stopped right in front of you. It’s head alone was almost the size of your entire frame, and it’s eyes never once left your flushed, tear stained face. 
“Hi,” you breathed, your voice small. Gently taking your hand, you held up your palm face up towards the wolf’s face, its nose cold and wet as it touched your hand before it slowly transitioned into warm, sleek fur as the wolf pushed its forehead into your palm. You ran your fingers gently across the wolf’s head, your tiny fingers dwarfed significantly, relishing in the warmth it brought. 
The first touch of the animal’s tongue on your injury stung, the roughness irritating the already inflamed skin. You whimpered, though watched silently as the wolf cleaned your wound like it would to one of its young. Looking back up at you once it was done, deeming your injury clean enough, its eyes flashed a brilliant shade of vermillion before returning to their dulled amber color as quickly as it came. 
Too engrossed in feeling the warmth of the wolf’s body temperature beneath your frozen fingertips, you were slightly startled when you felt it’s snout gently nudging your thigh, signaling for you to stand up. You followed without complaint, albeit a slight limp on your left leg, and brushed the snow that clung wetly to your clothes with your fingers before embedding your fingers back into the wolf’s warm, soft fur on its back. It led you back the direction you came, the trip silent except for the crunch of the snow beneath your feet as the cabin quickly came into view. 
“There you are,” your grandfather breathed, a smile plastering his wrinkled face as soon as you came into view. His eyes quickly drifted to the creature beside you, taking in it’s hulking figure and bright red eyes. He wasn’t worried or scared like you expected him to be, and instead lowered into a small bow to show his respects. The wolf followed suit, lowering its head before backing away from you to return to the forest; it’s home. “I was wondering where you ran off to, silly girl.” 
“Grandpa!” you giggled, running up the patio steps before crashing into his chest in a hug. The sun was quickly setting, casting hues of golden and soft rose onto the snow as you turned back to watch the wolf disappear between the trees once again. It was almost as if it was never there to begin with. “Did you see that? Did you?” 
“I did, my love,” He spoke to you, his voice gentle as he brushed stray hairs away from your face. Pointing to your torn pants, a frown found its way on his face at the sight of the raw, exposed skin. “What happened here?” 
“I was running through the snow,” you began, sighing at the warmth of the inside of the cabin as your grandfather led you to the kitchen. You sat down on one of the dining room chairs, watching as he grabbed a first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “And I tripped over a rock. It hurt pretty bad.”
Your grandpa hummed, listening to your story intently as he slowly disinfected the wound with antibacterial soap before taking out a bandage to cover it with.  “And then?” 
“And then this big wolf showed up out of nowhere!” you exclaimed, waving your hands high above your head to try to demonstrate. “He was huge, but he didn’t hurt me. He helped me. He licked my knee and led me back here.” 
“Did he?” Placing a bandage onto your knee, he chuckled as he gently took your small, cold hands in his own and led you from the kitchen to your bedroom. You quickly changed from your wet, outside clothes and into your warm sleep clothes, hopping into bed with a smile that didn’t seem like it was fading still on your face. 
“I have something to tell you, Y/N. Something important.” your grandfather spoke, his voice low as he pulled the covers up to your chest. By now the sun has fully set, the only light illuminating your room coming from the pale moonlight glow and the dulled bedside lamp. “There are many wolves out there, Y/N. Special wolves. They will never hurt you if you welcome them with open arms and an open mind.” 
With that, he placed a kiss on your forehead and turned off your bedside lamp, the door to your bedroom closing softly in his wake. Almost complete darkness welcomed you, the light of the full moon bathing you in it’s ethereal shine, and as you fell asleep that night you swore you could hear the distant howls singing you a lullaby. 
  The coldness of the outside air was pleasant against your skin, the thick material of your hoodie sheathing most of the elements from your exposed flesh. You worked diligently on moving each box from the back of your car to the inside of the cabin, music playing quietly through your headphones to fill the quietness of the empty forest. 
You were now twenty-one, and it's been 3 months since your grandfather has passed. 
His death had taken a huge toll on you. You had stopped visiting him during the summer after your thirteenth birthday, school and relationships outweighing the desire to spend the three months you had free in the woods alone and not with your friends. Up until now you didn’t feel any regret in doing so, your relationship with him eventually fading into the only communication being handwritten cards sent every holiday or your birthday. Though ever since you found out about the news of his death the only thing you could feel was heartbreak and guilt. 
Stepping back outside you grabbed the last box out of your trunk, shutting it with a sigh before moving to finally go back inside. You were tired, lately that’s all you’ve been, and moving from the heart of Seoul to the forests of a forgotten city was harder than you’d originally envisioned it to be. The drive was long, the bright early morning sky fading into the depths of midnight before you could even realize, barely any stops made in between. The only thing you wanted to do now was rest. 
Looking around the cabin it was exactly how you remembered it being, albeit desolate as the livelihood that used to thrive was now replaced with cold emptiness in the absence of its light. The dark tinted wood flooring was cold beneath your sock clad feet as you moved to light the fireplace, illuminating the living room in a light golden hue and filling it with warmth. 
There were many pictures lining the stone built around the fireplace, and you could recognize your face in some of them as you moved to pick one up. You ran your finger gently over the glass, brushing some of the built up dust away to reveal the image of you and your grandpa’s smiling face staring back at you. 
It was snowing in the picture, your faces flushed red and snow stuck in your hair. The memory of when the photo was taken was fuzzy, blurry at some of the edges but it still made your eyes well up; a small smile on your face as your tears hit the glass protecting it. 
Gently placing the picture frame back on the mantle, your eyes drifted to the other photos that lined the stone. One that managed to catch your eye was one of your grandfather, smiling like always and surrounded by three very large wolves. 
One was an earthy brown color, lanky and tall but still muscular and intimidating while the other a healthy mix of grey and white, specks of dirty brown littering it’s coat. The last one was slightly hidden, it’s obnoxiously large head peeking behind your grandfather’s shoulder shyly as it’s inky black coat contrasted nicely with the warm autumn background. It felt strangely familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. 
Your grandfather always talked about the wolves that roamed the forest in which he lived and how they were special, different. You never truly understood what he meant by that, though you assumed he had simply built a relationship with the creatures as he focused his studies on them and their behaviours. 
You tried not to dwell on it too much. 
Shaking your head you placed the photo back where it was on the fireplace, taking one last look at your new home before putting the fire out and getting ready for bed. 
In the morning you were rudely woken up by the sound of somebody knocking on your door. It was strange, you thought, nobody came by these parts by chance and the closest neighbour you had was miles away. You doubted if they even really cared if somebody new moved in overnight, though you assumed news spread fast in small areas like these. Furrowing your eyebrows, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before quickly answering the door. 
What greeted you were two men, one noticeably taller than the other with dirty silver blonde hair and kind eyes that seemed welcoming. The other had hair the shade of night, with cat-like eyes that made you more uncomfortable the longer you looked at them. Both were wearing simple clothes, though arguably not appropriate for the freezing weather. You shifted nervously. 
“Can I help you?” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from sleep. The coldness of the early morning air nipped at your exposed arms, your simple t-shirt not doing much to shelter you from the cold as it entered into your home. Your eyes drifted to the taller one of the two as he spoke. 
“Hi, my name is Namjoon and this is my brother, Yoongi.” he spoke, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles at you. He has a gentle smile, you think. “We live a couple miles up the street and heard of somebody moving in. You’re new around here, yes?” 
He spoke eloquently, obviously educated and smart judging by the way he chose to present himself, but there was a slight disconnect with his words--  a slur to his accent you didn’t recognize. One you couldn’t point out. 
You nodded in response to his question, a polite smile on your face. “I just finished moving in yesterday.” 
Something felt off, they felt off. The shorter one of the two, Yoongi you remember his name being, you caught his eyes wandering-- drifting past your shoulder in a futile attempt to see inside your home. Shifting uncomfortably, you leaned your shoulder against the wooden door frame in an attempt to block his view. You didn’t know where this conversation was heading, and you really didn’t want to find out, either. 
The taller one, Namjoon, opened his mouth to speak before he was quickly interrupted. 
“The old man that used to live here,” Yoongi began, eyes narrowing at you underneath his fringe. His voice was relatively monotone, yet somehow aggressive and accusatory. “What happened to him.” 
Namjoon whipped his head around to look at the shorter man, eyebrows furrowed and expression tight. The frustration was evident in his voice as he quickly turned back to you, “I apologize for him-” 
“It’s okay,” you waved off quickly, though slightly hurt by the bluntness of his tone. Clearing your throat you fought hard to fight back tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of strangers by completing breaking down. You let out a small sigh before continuing, “My grandfather, he passed away a couple months ago. He left all of his belongings to me in his will, so I-I wanted to move in to make sure nothing happened to his home and research.” 
At that, both of them seemed to deflate in relief, their shoulders less tense-- though at the mention of the word ‘grandfather’ they seemed to be more intrigued. 
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Namjoon spoke, his voice low. He stuck his hand out in a handshake, his palm large against your own smaller one as you gripped it gently. His hand was warm, incredibly so, despite the freezing temperature he was standing in. “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through right now and I apologize for intruding.” 
“Thank you,” you replied, the warmth of his palm comforting. “Would you like to come in for some coffee? Tea?” 
“We would love to,” Looking regretful, Namjoon turned to look at Yoongi briefly, the latter’s eyes never once leaving your face. “But we should really get going. Next time, maybe?” 
Smiling, you nodded your head in agreement. “Next time, then.”
You watched silently as they left, your hands stilling on the door as you went to close it. They had stated earlier that their home was miles away from yours, yet you didn’t see them getting into a car or any mode of transportation to make their way back-- instead the sound of their shoes crunching on the gravel of your driveway as they walked seemed to echo in the quiet early morning air. 
Furrowing your eyebrows you shook your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The whole interaction left a weird taste in your mouth, though you attempted not to linger over it too much, unsure if you’d realistically ever see them again. Closing the door with a dull thud your bare feet padded against the cold wood flooring as you made your way to the living room, relighting the fireplace with a match to help fill the room with much needed warmth. 
You spent most of the day unpacking your things. The interaction early this morning with Namjoon and Yoongi was pushed to the back of your mind now as you attempted to settle in. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t as difficult as you initially thought, though you guess you can place it on this place being your second home for thirteen years of your life. 
As the cabin was located semi remotely and the nearest town wasn’t anywhere close to you, your grandfather had built a tiny farm in the “backyard” to produce his own food. He refused to hunt live animals to eat, his reasoning being he didn’t have the heart to do so; a lifestyle you adopted from him during your younger years. Putting on a thick, warm hoodie to help combat the chilly winds you ventured outside to check on it. 
What you expected to see were rotting and decaying plants, seeing as there had been nobody around to take care of them for months.
 But they weren't. 
The fruits and vegetables looked as fresh and healthy as they could be, vibrant against the dull earthy ground they grew on. There had to be a logical explanation for this, produce couldn’t have survived as long as they have without being eaten by wildlife or destroyed by the elements and lack of care. Getting down on your knees, you moved to check the roots of the plants for any disturbances or ruptures when you heard it.
Behind you there was the snapping of a twig, the sound irritatingly loud in the otherwise quiet forest. You stilled, breath hitching in your throat as you tried to process what was happening. Perhaps you were being paranoid, you thought. You lived in a forest, there were wild animals all around you and one twig snapping shouldn’t warrant such a reaction. 
That was until the sound was followed by a low growl. It was quiet enough to not be heard if you weren’t paying enough attention, but loud enough to make the hairs rise on the back of your neck. Turning your head slowly, the first thing you tried to do was figure out who, or what, was there before turning your body completely. 
Standing about 10 feet away from you was a wolf. It’s coat was as black as a clear night sky, sleek and silky yet slightly matted with the only color being the dulled amber of its eyes. Its snout was pulled back in a snarl, the stained whites of its elongated canines taunting you while its eyes stared directly at you in aggression. 
You remembered distinctly about the values your grandfather instilled in you when you were young, to be gentle to the wolves that live on this land and to approach them with respect. So you raised the palm of your hand silently-- the situation eliciting a strange sense of deja vu--the act in itself a sign of non aggression. 
It didn’t work. 
The wolf’s growls got progressively louder as it stalked towards you, it’s massive paws sinking heavily into the earth below. You didn’t have time to react before it lunged for you, the plants behind you smothering behind as you fell back, the smell of blood penetrating the air as the thorns of the blackberry bush behind you pierced your skin. The palm of your hand stained a deep wine red. 
It’s growls seemed to reverberate in your skull as saliva dripped from it’s bared canines and onto your cheek, it’s hot breath making you choke up in fear. The feeling of it’s heavy paws on your chest made you feel like you were suffocating, pushing you further into the wet soil. 
You were scared. Unbelievably scared. The adrenaline and panic was pulsing through your veins like blood, hot and thick and circulating your entire body without pause.
It’s only been a day and you’re already staring at the face of death. 
“Please,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears as they fell down into your hair and mixed with the soil below. To whom or what you were pleading to you did not know, your eyes slowly drifting from it’s bared teeth to your own pitiful reflection staring back at you in its eyes. The creature seemed to falter at the eye contact, eyes widening a fraction before you see it’s nose wiggling from your peripheral vision. 
Slowly you could see the wolf’s snarl fade, it’s large paws stepping off your chest and back into the wet earth as it continued to back away from you. You were scared and confused, your body terrifying still until you heard the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching as the wolf made its way back into the forest where it came from, sparing one last look at your fear-stricken form before disappearing from your view completely. 
You lied there silently for what felt like an eternity, your hands shaking as they gripped the dirt, the pain from your cut dulled from shock. Getting up quickly you rushed inside, taking off all your clothes and turning the shower dials to the hottest setting. It burned, your hands still slightly trembling as you scrubbed yourself roughly and watched as the water ran down the drain pink before eventually turning clear. The shower didn’t do much to calm your nerves. 
“This was a bad idea,” you mumbled to yourself, brushing your wet hair away from your face with your hand. There was a heavy bandage wrapped around it, the wound not as painful as it was a couple of hours ago but still pulsing painfully if you moved it the wrong way. You stared blankly at your bedroom wall, your thoughts blank as you noted with dull interest how the light birch color contrasted nicely with the darkly tinted wood flooring.
 Maybe you should have stayed at your apartment in Seoul. It was safe there, arguably so, and you could’ve collected all your grandfather’s belongings and had them stored somewhere rather than secluding yourself away from the rest of civilization like a recluse. 
But the guilt of abandoning the last familial connection you had with your mother out of teenage stupidity really weighed down on you, keeping you up at night and consistently plaguing your thoughts. You had originally thought that moving here into his cabin and protecting, perhaps continuing, his wildlife research would bring you some sense of closure or relief. Maybe you were wrong. 
 Letting out a deep sigh you moved to open a drawer on your bedside table, pulling out an old faux leather bound book. You had found it in your grandfather’s study while you were cleaning out some storage, tucked neatly in a hand built bookcase between a plethora of others that looked vaguely similar. The only difference was the golden wolf stamped onto the spine and cover, reflecting beautifully as the light from your lamp bounced off of it. 
When you ran your finger over the design it felt smooth beneath your fingertips, stunningly beautiful yet the only thing you could think of when you saw it was the beast that almost killed you earlier today. 
Opening the book gently, what greeted you was the illustration of a howling wolf-- the black ink contrasting the off-white page with the word ‘Lycanthropy’ written below it. You ran your finger over the ink, feeling the coarseness of the wrinkled paper as you diligently flipped the stained pages, each one filled with notes, sketches and anatomy studies of what your grandfather deemed ‘lycanthropes’. 
Of course you had entertained the idea of werewolves when younger, though once you were out of your preteen years you had scrapped the idea entirely as you knew it was biologically impossible. But when your grandfather was alive all he talked to you about was the wolves and how special they were, how they were different. You were young at the time so of course you didn’t question it, though now you didn’t know what to think. Your whole reality and what you knew to be real, not real or just simple folklore used to entertain and scare children was being flipped on you and your mind was a muddled mess.
 If these creatures actually existed, these werewolves--or lycanthropes as your grandfather so politely called them-- what stopped other things like vampires and witches from being real too? 
You shut the book in haste, anger quickly replacing confusion as you clenched your fists. What you were angry about you didn’t know, but you knew you weren’t going to let this go easily. You needed answers, and you were going to get them. 
It’s been several days since your encounter with the wolf and the discovery that werewolves were, in fact, real. Or, so you assumed. You haven’t been outside since the attack, holding yourself up in the study to read every book that lined the shelves and sort through every scrap paper abandoned on his desk in an attempt to find answers. 
The early morning sun was beaming through the window, warm against your face as you slept peacefully. You’d fallen asleep in the study again, your face squished up against the cold wood of the desk and the ink stained papers after a long night of reading and studying. It was nothing like you’d ever seen before, every detail about every living and non living thing that dwelled in this forest was written and logged into separate books and carefully stored so they wouldn’t get ruined or lost with age. 
You blinked your eyes sleepily, stretching your arms above your head as you winced at the pain in your neck from sleeping in an uncomfortable position for days. There was an awful taste in your mouth and a pounding headache making your eyes squeeze shut in pain, the bright sunlight streaming through your window not doing much to help with the dull throbbing in your head. You suppose the lack of food, water and sleep finally caught up with you. 
Rubbing your temples with your fingertips you vaguely remembered reading about a natural migraine remedy that grew in the forest somewhere in one of your grandfather’s books. There was no asprin here, so you had to make due with what you had. 
Quickly sorting through the mess of papers on the desk you found what you were looking for, an old looking book with various plants huddled together stamped in golden ink on the front cover and spine. You flipped through the pages, finally locating a detailed illustration of the peppermint herb you needed and a description of its uses located directly below it.
You got ready quickly, changing clothes and taking care of your hygiene before grabbing the book you needed off the kitchen table and making your way to the back door. Before you could place your hand on the handle you froze, a sharp pain irritating your palm as you clenched your fist at the memory of the dangers that lurk within those woods. You weren’t as scared as you used to be, more educated and less naive than you were before but the weariness was still there. 
The metal handle was cold against the palm of your hand, the outside air welcoming against your face as you stepped outside. The weather was more forgiving than it used to be, the sun shining bright overhead and the temperature pleasantly warm. Your shoes touched the forest floor for the first time in what felt like forever, the book you needed tucked protectively underneath your arm as you made your way through the forest. 
It was hard to identify the difference between the herbs at first look as they all looked the same to the inexperienced eye, though you diligently tried your best. 
Bending down, your knees touched the wet earth as you sorted through the bushes, comparing the leaves to the ones that were sketched onto the pages. It wasn’t long until you heard the slight rustle of the bushes behind you, your fists tightening around the pages of your book. 
“You can come out you know,” you began, plucking the peppermint leaves off their stem before getting up and turning to where the sound originated from. “I know you’re out there.” 
You heard it before you saw it. It’s low growl pierced the tense air as it finally exposed itself to you, the same massive paws that pinned you to the ground and made you choke on your own fear left dents in the moist forest floor as it stepped from behind the trunk of a young redwood tree. It’s teeth were bared in a sharp snarl, its once dull amber eyes now a brilliant shade of vermillion as it stared at you in distrust. 
“I know what you are,” you spoke, voice wobbling as tears clouded your vision. “You’re a lycan. A werewolf.” 
The lycan’s growls grew louder at your confession, the hairs on it’s back rising and it’s posture getting defensive. You recognized the wolf from the one in the picture resting above your fireplace, it’s then shy gaze replaced with a look of distrust.
 It seemed just as angry and confused as you were, yet you didn’t know if that comforted you or not. 
“My grandfather, Il Sung, you knew him didn’t you. He studied your kind for years and recorded everything in his books and you let him.” The lycan seemed to falter at that, it’s posture slackening slightly-- caught off guard. You decided to test your luck, slowly stepping closer and watched as the lycans growls continued to grow, though they didn’t seem as threatening as before. “You let him because you trusted him, and he trusted you. I moved here to protect his home, his research, and by extension that means you!” 
You shook your head, the anger bubbling inside you quickly rising to the surface as hot tears stained your cheeks.  “I’m not scared of you, you beast. Why would I be?” 
Tension quickly rose, the once pleasant air now suffocating with each word that passed your lips. “You’re a coward! Nothing but a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”
Your voice echoed in the otherwise quiet forest, every emotion that you’ve managed to keep at bay and hidden inside of yourself spilling out without your consent. The anger, the guilt, the sadness-- all of it. “I have done nothing to you. Nothing! Yet you come into my home and threaten me? Me?!” 
The lycan’s growls stopped completely, it’s posture relaxing and it’s eyes returning back to their normal bronze shade as the only sound reverberating off the trees was your emotional mess. There was a quiet pause before you continued. 
“I’m not here to hurt you, ” you began, never once breaking eye contact with the creature in front of you. “I loved my grandfather more than you could know, and I’m just as hurt and confused about everything that’s happened as you are. So please, just give me a damn break.” 
The silence following was deafening, you both didn’t dare to move as you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity-- both of you standing your ground. Your face was flushed with tears as you watched in confusion as the wolf trekked closer to you, it’s movements cautious and slow. The closer the lycan got the more you noticed how large it was, reaching up to the center of your belly in height with muscles rippling through its inky black coat at each step it took. It was more intimidating than you’d admit to yourself. 
The first touch of it’s wet nose against your palm made you flinch.
 Yesterday you had finally removed the bandage from around your cut, opting to let it breathe and putting a natural ointment on it to help the healing process. It was still relatively fresh, only a few days passing from the time you had received it to now, so it stung slightly at the first pass of the lycan’s rough tongue. It’s ears were slightly pinned back as it licked your wound, looking more like an oversized dog than the beast that tried to kill you a week prior. 
Your left hand, the one that was uninjured, shook slightly as you raised it, your fingers carefully embedding themselves in the silky fur of the lycan. It stilled at the feeling, a low growl vibrating through its body before it continued its ministrations. When it was finished it stepped back slightly, its eyes flashing the same bright red it had before when it first showed itself to you.  
Stepping back, your hands felt cold in the absence of the lycan’s warmth, fingers clenching in a fist as you furrowed your eyebrows. The headache from earlier seemed to come back worse than it originally was earlier, the bearing sunlight suddenly too harsh on your eyes. 
This whole situation was oddly familiar, and it confused you. A lot.
You moved to make your way back to the cabin without another word or sparing glance, weaving through the trees and leaving the lycan abandoned far behind you. 
   Early the next morning you found yourself in the garden. The weather was still pleasantly warm, a slight breeze leaving goosebumps along your bare arms as you worked on plucking the ripe fruits and veggies from their stems and throwing away the rotten ones. Your headache from yesterday had eventually subsided after following the instructions written down for you, a fairly tiny jar of peppermint oil managing to save you from a night-long nightmare. 
It wasn’t long after that you heard it’s arrival. Although the crunch of fallen leaves no longer scared you with it’s rather cliche implications, you were still surprised to see the familiar figure of the wolf with an inky black coat standing in the treeline. 
“You’re back,” you breathed, shock flooding your features as you watched it saunter towards you. It stopped relatively close, only about six feet away from the garden where you were kneeling. At first you were unsure if it even heard you, though the huff that passed it’s lips as it sat down quietly to bask underneath the afternoon sun proved otherwise. You noticed its auburn eyes following your every move; watching, observing, thinking. 
 Knowing there was somebody residing underneath that wolf’s skin made you feel vulnerable and exposed underneath it’s heavy gaze, the lycan never once moving from its position underneath the sun. Originally you thought that somewhere in the study there would be records of the wolves that lived in the forest; their names, photos, drawings-- anything. 
You found nothing. 
It frustrated you more than you’d like to admit. No matter how much you read or studied, you still felt completely naive to the world suddenly shoved in front of you. 
“When I was younger, every summer I would come here to visit my grandpa,” you suddenly spoke, eyes intently trained on the tomatoes you were currently picking. The lycan didn’t seem to make any moves at the sound of your voice. “And all he would talk about was the wolves. It was always about the wolves.”
Getting up, you brushed the soil off your pants before turning to face the wolf completely, it’s gaze never leaving yours as you spoke. Sighing quietly, you rested the basket of freshly picked produce against your hip to close your eyes and collect your thoughts.
 It felt nice to talk to somebody after being alone for so long, even if they couldn’t talk back. 
“My mother died shortly after my birth,” you explained, moving to set down the basket on the edge of the porch. You chuckled lightly, wringing your hands together as your gaze moved to look at the clear blue sky above, tears brimming your eyes. “And my father, he hoped that by sending me here I-I would have a chance to have a connection with my mother’s side before it was gone completely.” 
Your voice was quiet as you continued. “And I gave that up for my own teenage selfishness” 
It was quiet for a long time after that. None of you moved, the birds chirping high in the treetops as they mingled together and the distant sound of rabbits running through the brush filling the void. You swung your legs thoughtlessly as you sat on the edge of the porch, the rough material of your jeans shielding you from any unnecessary splitters as your back touched the cold, rough wood when you lied down. 
You spoke up after a while of silence, voice low and impersonal as you focused on the gentle swaying of the trees. “If I could go back and spend more time with him I would, y’know?” 
The wood was rough on your elbows as you got up to rest on them, your gaze once again returning to the lycan. It still felt so surreal. “But I can’t. So I just have to make due with what I have left now.” 
You got up without another word, grabbing the basket of fruits and vegetables and moving to make your way back inside. Turning around, you watched as the wolf followed your every move with its eyes intently, a silent goodbye resting on your tongue as the door shut behind you. 
It’s been a month, and you were adjusting quickly. 
Your routine has stayed fairly the same the entire duration; during the day you would venture out into the forest to collect herbs and spices or sit on the porch underneath the warm sun, while your nights were spent locked in the study with a dull lamp glow illuminating the stained white pages. It was comfortable, you were comfortable.
Surprisingly enough, the lycan would continue to come by everyday. Whether you were taking care of the garden or sketching quietly on the porch-- it would come. At first its presence would slightly bother you, seeing as it would sit in the exact same spot everyday and just stare at you while you worked, but gradually with each passing week you managed to get more relaxed with each other. 
“What do you think?” you said, turning the sketchbook over to show the wolf the portrait sketched on it. The lycan was laying on the porch next to you, head resting between its paws and it’s coat shining underneath the glaring mid-day sun. It wasn’t too hot per say, but you couldn’t imagine the summer heat felt too good on its thick dark coat. 
Lifting its head up the wolf looked at your drawing, a huff passing it’s lips as its tail wagged back and forth slowly against the wood. It’s large paw rested on your thigh as it stretched, a low whine catching your attention as it’s large head moved to rest on your lap. You smiled, setting down your sketchbook and pencil next to you before entangling your fingers gently in the fur of its back. 
It was still kinda shocking how fast your relationship blossomed. One day the lycan refused to be more than a couple feet away from you and growled whenever so much as raised a hand to touch it, the next it whined if you didn’t want it’s head in your lap. If you were being completely honest with yourself you didn’t know how to feel about this. 
There was still somebody in that wolf, thinking, watching, feeling--and you didn’t know their name or who they were. Hell, you didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman. 
Sighing, you closed your eyes for a short moment. You felt wrong for looking, truly you did, but curiosity managed to get the best of you in the moment. 
It was a man. 
You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not. 
The next day wasn’t like anything you expected. 
Your morning had started off slow, an awful crick in your neck from falling asleep with your head in a book for the third time in a row that week. It was approximately noon when you got out of the shower, feeling more refreshed than you were an hour prior and a cup of freshly made peppermint tea warming your hands. The only plans you had for today were to get more ginger root and yarrow to help with some of the dull pain from your cut, the wound healing up nicely so far--though you suspected there will be a scar left behind. 
When you had exited your cabin you had expected to see the lycan sitting waiting for you like he always does, but the spot he had claimed as his was cold and empty. You tried not to overthink it too much, albeit you were a little disappointed at the lack of company as you weaved through the trees. 
It was about an hour since you had first left, sweat started to bead at your forehead as you looked for the herbs you needed quickly. The leaves from the trees above helped shelter some of the sweltering heat and provide some shade, though your clothes still continued to stick to your body unpleasantly. 
There was an uncomfortable feeling steadily creeping up your neck, your hands stilling on the forest ground as you strained your ears to listen for anything that may be off. Behind you there was suddenly a low growl, the sound of stray twigs snapping under immense weight. 
You had thought that it was just your lycan friend--you’ve yet to actually learn his name yet, you were still working on it--fooling around and trying to scare you like he used to do. Smiling, you stood up and turned around. 
That was your first mistake. 
Gasping, you stumbled back out of fear. Standing there was a wolf, a fairly large one at that, with muddy red fur and a deranged look in its eyes as it snarled at you. It’s growls got louder as it stalked closer to you, the fur on its back raised and saliva flying from it’s canines as it barked at you in aggression. 
Your heart was beating erratically against your chest, fear coiling around your throat like a snake and tightening so hard it felt like it was hard to breathe. You stepped back, your movements slow and steady in an attempt to not show any signs of aggression--the creature not slowing any signs of backing down as it continued its advancements towards you. 
The wolf lunged at you unexpectedly, it’s jaws snapping a few inches away from your lower stomach and saliva splattering against your thighs. Fear took over as you ran, thorns and branches whipping at your exposed legs and creating blistering marks in their wake. Your lungs burned painfully, the sound of the creature quickly catching up taunting you as you attempted to outrun it. 
You were foolish to think you could outsmart a creature of speed and agility, tears of frustration and fear burning your cheeks as they fell and disappeared on the forest floor. Before you could register what happened there was sharp pain in your leg, your screams piercing the silent forest. 
There was blood. A lot of blood. Your hands shook violently as they touched the cold metal of the bear trap currently hooked in your leg, the pain immeasurable and quickly spreading throughout your entire body with no signs of rest. 
“No, no, no!” you cried, shaking your head violently and attempting to pry the trap off of you. It ended up just causing you more pain, blood dripping from the wound and soaking the dirt below you. 
The growls were back, louder than before as the creature busted through the foliage with a murderous look in its eyes. It’s barks and snarls ridiculing you as you hysterically tried to rip the metal off, hot tears running down your face and your cries getting lost in the ruckus. 
 The thought of dying out here, alone, broke your heart. 
Everything felt distant, you could feel yourself passing out. The only thing you could discern from your quickly blurring vision was two large figures on the ground, fighting and snarling through a clash of bared teeth. You couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in your ears, the sickening crunch of bone being the last thing to echo in your head as your chest heaved slowly and your fingers turned cold. You watched drearily as the figure pinned underneath the other fall limp against the ground. 
The last thing that entered your peripheral before you blacked out was glowing red eyes surrounded by inky darkness.
  It was quiet, the only sounds in the room being your gentle breathing and the rough scratching of a pen against paper. Your fists clenched around the softness of the blankets swathed around you, the sun harsh against your eyes as you blearily opened them and grimaced at the awful, stale taste in your mouth. A headache was consistently pounding against your head, mingling with the dulled pain coming from your leg that made you whimper quietly. 
“You’re awake,” somebody said beside you, their voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. There was suddenly a warm hand on your forehead, feeling for a temperature briefly before it left just as quick as it came. “I’m glad. You’ve been out for awhile now.” 
Panic struck your entire being at the foreign voice, your eyes squinting as you attempted to look at the source through your blurry vision. It was a man, he had a somewhat baby face which was accompanied by broad shoulders hidden underneath a plain black t-shirt; his dark hair falling over the worried look on his face when he leaned over the bed to look at you. 
“Who-who are you,” you asked, your voice wavering as you attempted to back away from the stranger. There was a sharp pain in your leg as you quickly sat up, moving to push yourself against the corner of the bed in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “Where am I?”  
“Calm down, it’s okay,” He spoke, his voice gentle as he raised his hands to not show any harm. His eyebrows were furrowed underneath his hair, a deep frown on his lips as he moved his gaze down to your leg that was hidden beneath the sheets. “My name is Seokjin, I’ve been helping you recover from your injuries the last few days. Do you remember what happened?” 
Shaking your head, you wrung your hands in the blankets uncomfortably as you tried to process the situation. Your memory was extremely foggy, bits and pieces at the forefront of your mind but nothing too significant. A ll you could remember was the feeling of the wind burning your lungs, how the tears felt as they burned your face and the absolute fear that consumed your entire body.
You stared at the door a couple feet away from you, thinking of a way to get as far away from this person as possible. Realistically you knew that even if you tried to run you wouldn’t get that far, your injury preventing you from doing so. That couldn’t stop you from trying, though. 
“Please don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” Seokjin sighed, following your line of sight. When he looked back at you his eyes were a vivid shade of gold, almost like the wild dandelions that were growing near the edge of your cabin, your own widening in shock. 
You remembered reading somewhere about the varying eye colors of lycans and what they signified, the different ranks present in a pack. Contrary to popular belief a pack’s dynamic wasn’t based on the submissiveness of those considered to be weaker or inferior, rather it was a system built on the caring nature of a single lycan’s personality-- if they were born leaders or natural caretakers at heart.
 Omegas were blessed with yellow eyes that resembled the early morning sun and are generally the most caring, often given the weighty responsibility of caring for young pups or tending to the injured. Betas had eyes the color of the deep ocean and are regarded as the peacekeepers, the safety net. They’re calm and do most of the logical thinking. 
Then there’s Alphas. They have taunting red eyes and are the primary leaders, usually bigger and stronger than the rest of the pack to make sure everybody stays in line instead of going awry or rogue. Their main responsibility is to keep the pack safe, to lead. 
“Y-you’re a lycan?” you whispered, voice shaky. Admittedly you felt more pacified than you did a few moments prior, though you still didn’t completely trust this lycan or his intentions. 
Unsurprisingly Seokjin didn’t seem shocked by your knowing, a small smile tugging at his lips as he slowly lowered his arms to rest them by his side.
“What happened to me.” you demanded quietly. 
The lycan sighed, a distraught look on his face as a hand came up to comb through his hair. To be truthful, Seokjin didn’t know exactly what to say to that. He felt it wasn’t fair for him to speak on it further without his brother being present, afterall he wasn’t there when the incident occurred and he knew how much the other wanted to see you when you woke up. 
“I think that it’s better if Jeongguk explains that to you.” He eventually spoke, voice low and a knowing look in his eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his reply. 
“You’ll recognize him when you see him.” With that Seokjin left the room, closing the door softly behind him. You could hear his footsteps quickly fading as he left, your shoulders falling with a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. It was quiet for a while after that, the soft chirping of birds outside seeping through the open window next to you and the atmosphere almost serene in nature. 
Curiosity managed to get the better of you, your hands gripping the blankets covering your leg as you carefully untucked it, grimacing at what you saw. Your entire lower leg was tore up, a couple stitches suturing close some of the worse ones near your ankle and a series of smaller cuts and blisters sweltering above them. Everything was covered in some form on semi-translucent film, yarrow you believed it was, and was extremely tender to the touch as you gently prodded the areas with your fingers. 
“You shouldn’t be touching that.” 
Whipping your head around at the sound of the voice, your eyes quickly landing on a figure standing shyly in the doorway. He was young, that much was obvious, no older than twenty with hair the same shade as coal and big, doe eyes that stared at you in earnest. Jeongguk, you would believe Seokjin said his name was.
 You didn’t speak as he stepped further into the room, nervousness dripping from his form like honey as he opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to form words. 
“I’m sorry,” he eventually let out, eyes downcast on the polished wooden floor beneath his feet. “This shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.” 
Opting to stay silent you watched the boy from beneath a curious, questioning gaze. You were fairly certain you didn’t recognize his face from anywhere, but you could feel a sense of familiarity between the two of you.
 He kept his face down, hidden away from your scrutinizing gaze but you could still see his eyes turn from their normal dark brown to a deep cherry wine color at his obviously distraught emotional state. 
You could recognize those eyes anywhere, no matter what happened. It was the lycan that visited you every day, the one you befriended and grew to trust. You felt more at ease than you did before. 
Shifting on the bed, you sat up before speaking. “Do you know where am I, Jeongguk?” 
If he was shocked at the sound of his name passing through your lips he didn’t show it, opting to shift slightly closer to the bed where you were situated. You could see the apprehensiveness apparent on his face, worried about how you would react to the information he was eventually going to give you. 
“You’re in my home, we brought you here after the attack.” 
You nodded, furrowing your eyebrows as you processed his words.
“About that,” you whispered, nervous and unsure of how to word your question properly. “What exactly happened that day, Jeongguk?” 
Jeongguk sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed without thinking of how you would react and burying his face in his hands. To be honest, he felt awful about what happened. It was his fault, their fault. 
“Recently there were issues with a rogue intruding on our territory,” He began, his eyes solely focused on the birch flooring. “We were out patrolling the borders when I managed to catch his scent.” 
From there Jeongguk explained everything that occurred, sparing you some of the more gory details of the altercation he had with the lone wolf at his rather unexpected arrival, stopping periodically to gauge your reaction. It felt odd having somebody explain to you what happened to your own body, the memories still buried beneath the heaviness of shock and denial. Maybe that was for the best, you thought.
“I’m sorry.” 
Furrowing your eyebrows you moved to look at the boy, your mind still reeling as you placed the pieces together. “This isn’t your fault.” 
“But it is!” He abruptly stood up, burying his hands in his hair and his eyes shifting. “I-I should have been there, with you. We should have driven the rogue out before anything like this could happen.” 
Both of you stayed silent after that.
Technically he was right, if he had gotten the rogue lycan off his territory none of this would have happened, you wouldn’t be lying here injured and confused. But you also knew deep down he did everything he could to prevent it. 
A few days have passed since you woke up, your leg felt significantly better than it had in the beginning and the swelling was greatly reduced after each night. Jeongguk visited you every morning and stayed a couple hours to help keep you entertained, bringing a blank notebook and some pencils with him as you two drew to pass the time. Sometimes you talked, sometimes you didn’t. But you were comfortable.
Seokjin would come in to check on you and your injury at least two times a day, washing it with cold water to get rid of any dirt that may cause an infection and replacing the yarrow treatment before bandaging it up again. 
“Where did you learn so much about medicine?” you asked one day, watching as Seokjin finished up wrapping your leg with piqued interest. 
He smiled, standing up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and gathering up his supplies. The clothes he was wearing today were rather simple, a loose white shirt tucked into black ripped jeans. He looked good, you thought. 
“Il sung, your grandfather, taught me actually,” there was a fond look on his face as he spoke, his fingers stilling on the bowl of yarrow he used to soak your leg a couple moments prior.
“Were you close?” 
Seokjin nodded, looking at you with golden eyes from beneath his lashes. You reminded him so much of Il sung that it hurt, the look in your eyes as you spoke to him and your rather gentle disposition almost an exact copy. 
It’s been a week now, and you were getting considerably restless. In the entire duration you’ve been staying here you haven’t left the room once; there was a bathroom across from your bed and food was brought to you regularly by either Seokjin or Jeongguk, so you never had a reason to leave. But now that was going to change. 
Swinging your legs gently over the bed, you pushed the heavy blankets off of you and carefully made your way to the door. The wood was relatively cold against your bare feet, the obnoxiously oversized t-shirt Jeongguk had given you to wear after you took a shower brushed against your black sweats, a slight limp in your leg present. 
It was silent when you first stepped out. There were a couple other doors next to yours, all of which were closed and locked with a staircase leading down to the lower floor. Your hand held against the railing as you carefully limped down the steps, observing how everything was engrossed in a sheet of darkness with the absence of the lights being turned on. 
There was nobody in the main room from what you could tell, nor the open kitchen that was located in front of a rather large sliding glass window overlooking the backyard. The cabin was relatively modern, the walls a light birch color and the flooring darkly tinted; it felt similar to your own home, a fact that made you feel more comfortable. 
What captured your attention the most was that it was too quiet, too desolate. You knew that at least two lycans lived here, Seokjin and Jeongguk, so there had to be more hiding in the shadows somewhere. Wolves run in a pack rather than alone, so the only question was where they were. 
Moving from the kitchen to the main area, you smiled at the feeling of your feet coming in contact with the fluffy rug laid out on the floor, the material soft and warm against your bruised soles. There were a couple pictures hanging on the walls to add some decoration, but not too many as you looked around. Turning to observe more of the living area, you raised your eyebrows at what you saw. 
There was a wolf laying on the couch, a heavy blanket covering most of its body as its vivid blue eyes stared lazily at you. It had earthy brown fur, not as dark as Jeongguk’s but not that light either, cream white and tawny decorating around its snout, chest and one of its ears. You recognized it from the picture sitting above your fireplace mantle back at home. 
“Hi,” you smiled, a little put off at the prolonged eye contact it insisted on making. No matter how many lycans you surround yourself with, you’ll never get over how intimidating their eyes are. 
The wolf seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice, getting up and stretching lazily before excitedly bounding over to you. It was tall, reaching up to the middle of your stomach in height with a slightly lanky but muscular build.
 It’s snout was immediately buried in your stomach when it got close enough, sniffing and wagging its tail almost like an oversized dog. You giggled at the feeling of it’s tongue against your bare skin, it’s tongue rough against your navel as it stuck its head underneath your shirt. It was a little too friendly--you almost forgot there was actually a person in that wolf’s body instead of just an animal. 
“I see you’ve met Taehyung.” 
Turning to look at the source of the voice, disbelief took over your features at what, moreso who, you saw. Perhaps you should have seen it coming, and in all honesty you think deep down you did. You just wonder how many other surprises are out there waiting for you at this point. 
He flashed you a dimpled smile in reply, placing the grocery bags he was carrying in his hands onto the kitchen island. His silver blonde hair was covering his forehead, a little longer than the last time you saw him but overall nothing really changed. A couple of others came strolling in after him, their hands full with varying other items and smiles stretching their faces as they laughed at something you were unaware of. 
Jeongguk came in next, his smile immediately fading at the sight of you and Taehyung. His eyes changed to their blood red color, glaring at the wolf in front of you and the rather friendly position both of you were in. 
“Back off Tae.” He growled lowly, rolling his eyes at the smug huff that came out of the Beta’s mouth. Taehyung was testing his limits and he knew it. 
Either way the wolf complied and stepped back, the air suddenly cold against your stomach where the immense heat of his head used to be. Seokjin came in last, mumbling under his breath about something you didn’t care to strain your ears to find out, his eyes widening at the sight of you.
“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” Seokjin stammered, dropping the bags he had in his hands and quickly rushing towards your side. He rolled up the leg of your sweats to check on your injury, making sure none of the stitches were pulled in your little endeavor out of your room. 
“Seokjinn,” you whined, trying your best to balance on one leg as the lycan in question examined the other. “I was sick of being cooped up in the room all day, I needed to get out for a little bit.” 
Standing up from his crouched position, Seokjin sighed as he gave you a disapproving look. He had his hands on his hips like a scolding mother, the imagery in your head making you smile. 
“Do you understand how dangerous that could be if you pulled one of your stitches coming down the steps?”
 As bad as you felt for doing so, you completely tuned out Seokjin’s voice. You didn’t feel bad for leaving the room without his permission first, and you weren’t going to let him make you think so either, even though you knew that he was only scolding you out of the wellness in his heart. 
Your attention quickly shifted to a door that was opening on the second floor, Seokjin’s voice little more than white nose as a very sleepy looking man soon came into view. It was Yoongi, you remembered his name being, his head of black hair a mess atop his head and his clothes in disarray as he made his way down the steps. 
“Wow Yoongi, way to look presentable for guests,” One of the men you didn’t recognize taunted, laughing when the other flipped him off. He had light blonde hair and a wide smile, a little intimidating but an otherwise welcoming aura to him. 
You and Yoongi made brief eye contact as he passed into the main room, his eyes flashing blue quickly in an intimidating glare as he sat down on the couch.  
“Well since everybody is here,” Namjoon began, his voice capturing everybody’s attention in a matter of seconds. Even Jeongguk looked up from where he was stuffing his face with a sandwich you didn’t even know where he got. “I think we’re due for some introductions.” 
You soon found out that the man who patronized Yoongi was named Hoseok, his bright smile catching you slightly off guard when he directed it at you for the first time. There was another, Jimin his name was, a little short and quiet with chocolate brown hair that was parted in the middle but he has a nice, gentle smile and a good heart from what you could tell. 
Later that evening you found yourself sitting on the couch watching T.V with Taehyung. Seokjin had made dinner for everybody about an hour prior, luckily he hadn’t made you return back to your room pending your full recovery so you had a chance to really get to know everybody. 
You had become surprisingly comfortable with them pretty quick, helping put the groceries and other purchases from their once a month trip to the city where they belonged while making conversation. Everyone was nice to you, even Yoongi. 
Taehyung had refused to shift back for reasons unknown to you, his head heavy in your lap as you ran your fingers through his soft fur but you didn’t complain. You could hear him whine when your fingers stopped petting him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at the sound. In the short time you knew him, you could tell he was just attention starved and affection rather than a big scary wolf. 
The sun had set quickly thereafter, the day quickly bleeding into the night as you finally felt the effects of the day wearing you out. Namjoon, Jeongguk and Yoongi had left somewhere into the woods about an hour ago, for what reason you didn’t really know but you didn’t feel like questioning them at the time, trusting it was important. 
Jeongguk groaned, the sound of his bones cracking back into place as he shifted sounded brutal even to his own ears. It was well into the night now, they had just gotten back from patrolling the borders for the third time in only a week. Ever since your attack he’s been paranoid about something like that happening again, his nights filled with sleepless regret as your attack replayed in his head like a bad dream. He tried not to think about it too much as he quickly pulled the clothes he left out on the porch over his naked body. 
“You coming?” Yoongi called out to him in a gruff voice, staring at him from his position in the doorway of the sliding glass window. The moonlight shone lightly over his shirtless pale figure. 
“Yea, in a bit.”
The black haired boy simply nodded, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Jeongguk just needed time to think, to try to gather his thoughts before returning back inside and being forced to face his insecurities and fears. What happened that night, should have never happened. He was supposed to be there to protect you and he wasn’t, that was something he would never forgive himself for. 
A couple minutes passed before he sighed, finally moving to go back inside. His eyes immediately fell on your sleeping form, the brightly flashing colors of the T.V reflecting off your face beautifully as a smile rested upon his lips. It was the same smile that immediately was replaced by a deep scowl at the sight of the lycan currently resting on your lap. 
“You’re really pushing it, Tae,” Jeongguk growled, his fists clenching at his sides. Taehyung’s blue eyes only smugly stared at him in response, rolling over onto his back on the couch with his head still in your lap. 
Taehyung growled at him quietly in response before lazily getting off the couch, the sounds of his nails padding against the wood echoing in the halls before it was replaced by the gruesome crunching of bones as they rearranged themselves back in place. You shivered at the sudden absence of the wolf’s warmth, your face scrunching up as you curled in on yourself on the couch. Jeongguk’s heart swelled at the sight. 
Moving to turn the T.V off, the room was engulfed in silence and darkness as he came back to where you were resting, gently hooking his arms around your back and knees to bring you up to his chest. He walked up the stairs to where your room was located, placing you on the bed softly before carefully tucking you in. 
He was falling, faster than he’d like to and worse than he expected.
 The sun was annoyingly bright against your eyes, your cheeks warm and flushed as they stretched in a wide smile while you watched the lycans interact with each other in the backyard below. You could see two wolves wrestling in the dirt a couple feet away, what you recognized as Jimin’s slightly smaller form pinning Taehyung beneath his paws as his exaggerated yelps caught your ears. Namjoon and Yoongi were sitting on the porch, their fur rustling slightly in the wind as they quietly observed. You didn’t know where the other two were. 
It’s been two weeks since your attack, and two weeks since you’ve arrived at the pack house. Your injury was pretty much healed by now, minus a couple cuts and some bruises that were an ugly mix of green and purple, but Seokjin said you were pretty much ready to go back home whenever you were feeling up to it. You were extremely happy at the news, missing the feeling of fading white pages beneath your fingers and the wet soil on your knees as you took care of the garden. 
The only issue you faced now was how you were going to tell Jeongguk about it. 
Both of you have grown significantly closer, between the sparing glaces and the way your heart beats uncomfortably against your chest when one of the other pack members so much as mentions him, you would go as far as saying you fell for the lycan. 
Sometimes the two of you would spend the nights together on his bed talking about nothing and everything at the same time from dusk till dawn, other times he would lead you to a secret lake in the early morning just to watch as the sky bleeds into stunning hues of crimson and rose right in front of your very eyes. 
It was amazing, he was amazing. And that scared you. So much. 
These last few years of your life have been filled with so much pain and loneliness, you don’t know if you could handle giving up possibly the best thing you’ve ever had. Jeongguk was something that came hurtling at you out of nowhere like a bullet, ripping through your chest and leaving you scrambling at each breath. He was pain and pleasure coexisting in one, something you didn’t know if you could handle at this point in your life. 
The sound of the shower turning off managed to take you out of your thoughts, steam coming out of the bathroom as Jeongguk exited, roughly toweling his hair in an attempt to dry it and his sweats hanging low on his hips. He was in there for almost an hour in an attempt to sate his nerves, or more specifically after you yelled at him for pacing so long you were worried he would put a dent in the flooring. It gave you some much needed time to think. 
“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, sitting down next to you on the bed and following your gaze to watch the rest of his pack below with lidded vermillion eyes. 
“Hey,” your eyes drifted down to his bare chest, your fingers reaching out on their own accord to touch the flattened scars that were littered there. They were slightly pink, more flesh toned and obviously old. The boy was quiet as he rested his hand on top yours, his skin incredibly warm and his heartbeat quickening beneath your palm. 
You took a deep breath before finally opening up to him. 
“Y’know, earlier today Seokjin said I was pretty much healed,” you spoke, linking your fingers together with the lycans quietly. You refused to look at his face, solely focusing on your entwined hands still resting above his heart. “He said that I can go home.” 
Jeongguk was quiet at that, his grip around your palm tightening slightly. At the mention of the word ‘home’ he faltered, a sharp pain in chest as he felt his heart break slightly. He knew it was selfish for him to want you to stay here with him, to live with him, to be with him--but that didn’t stop him from desiring it.
“When are you leaving?” Jeongguk whispered, keeping his eyes on your intertwined hands. The look on his face and the sound of his voice made your heart hurt. 
“Taehyung said he’d help me get ready in the morning,” your voice was quiet, your palm suddenly cold when the lycan got off the bed in haste. He stood in the center of your room, deathly quiet as he raised a hand to thread through his damp hair. “Make sure I get back home safely.”
His eyes seemed to glow in the sudden darkness of your room, the sun quickly retreating back into the horizon while the moon came to take its place in the sky. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. He knew he could still visit you like he used to, sit with his head in your lap and the feeling of your fingers combing through the tangles in his fur with the afternoon sun on his face, but he also knew deep down things wouldn’t be the same. 
 You were shocked when he came back, his palms warm against your cheeks as he looked into your eyes as he pleaded, “Stay here, with me. We can take care of you, I can take care of you. You wouldn’t be alone anymore.” 
Tears welled up in your eyes, lip quivering and your voice cracking as you looked at the desperate look on his face. “I-I can’t. You know that.” 
You couldn’t leave behind your life and everything that was entrusted to you to live with a pack of lycans, some of whom you’ve only known for a short two weeks. It was crazy, and if it was the full moon influencing his actions you didn’t know but the pleading look in his eyes broke your heart. 
 “I should go then,” Jeongguk dropped his hands from your face, backing up towards the door. He was looking everywhere but you.“The pack is waiting for me.” 
You followed him as he made his way down the steps, slower than the lycan as you attempted to catch up to him. The attempt was futile, his hands were already gripping the handle to the sliding glass door and exiting before you could even make it past the main room. “Jeongguk, wait!”  
The rest of the pack was waiting outside, already shifted and waiting impatiently as they stared at both of you. He ignored your voice, untying his sweats and pulling them down his legs as he got ready for the run. You turned around to give him some privacy, a deep flush covering your cheeks as you jumped at the sudden sound of bones shortening and elongating, cracking and rearranging as he shifted. 
It wasn’t as quick and harmless as it appeared in movies or shows, the process agonizing long as it hurt your ears to listen to. 
You only turned back around once it was silent, watching with glistening eyes as Namjoon led the rest of the pack into the darkness of the forest ahead of you. The pale moonlight of the full moon reflected off of Jeongguk’s coat, making him appear almost a dark blue color as he slowed to a stop behind everyone else. 
He turned back to look at you, ears lowered against his head as you both just looked at each other. You didn’t know if he could see the tears staining your cheeks or the solemn look in your eyes, but if he did he didn’t acknowledge them as he ran to catch up with his brothers deep in the trees. 
The entire house seemed as if it was abandoned. There was no Seokjin yelling at one of the other boys for messing around in the kitchen while he was cooking, or Taehyung and Hoseok wrestling on the main room floor over whoever gets the last strip of bacon. The worst was the absence of Jeongguk’s gentle breathing as he laid next to you, sprawled out on your bed after a long night of talking as the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you back to sleep. It was too quiet, and you hated it. 
It was almost six in the morning when you finally saw the first break in the treeline. The sun hasn’t come out yet, the sky still bathed in darkness but from what you could make out there were only six wolves tiredly trotting back to the house as opposed to seven. Furrowing your eyebrows, you lifted your head from where it was resting on top of your folded arms, recognizing each lycan almost immediately and noticing that the only one missing was Jeongguk. 
By the time you made your way to the bottom of the steps the pack was already shifting, their exhausted groans reaching your ears as they pulled their clothes on with tired, battered breaths. The lycan you were looking for was nowhere in sight.
“Hey, Y/N,” you jumped slightly at the feeling of a hand on your skin, turning around to see Seokjin looking at you with a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” 
Confusion and worry laced your features as you looked around, your hope of expecting to see the black haired boy the more you searched dwindling. “Jeongguk, where is he?” 
Seokjin only sighed in response, a look on his face you didn’t feel like acknowledging as his hand squeezed the flesh of your arm comfortingly. He opened his mouth to speak, “I think we should go back inside to talk-” 
“No!” You pulled back from his grip, staring at him in disbelief as he attempted to shut down your inquiry. The others were looking at the both of you with empathetic gazes, making you feel gross and exposed. “Why isn’t he here, Seokjin? I need to talk to him.” 
“We don’t know where he is,” Namjoon spoke lightly, his hand resting in the middle of Seokjin’s bare back as he slowly walked up from behind him. His eyes were gentle as he looked at you, their intimidating red color not doing much to help calm you. “He’ll be back, Y/N, I promise. He just needed time to think.” 
Jeongguk needed time away because of you. You didn’t know how to react to that, your eyes downcast as the older Omega gently led you back inside. There was no protest this time, the exhaustion of everything finally catching up to you as settled to retiring yourself back to bed.
Later that night you found yourself in the kitchen. It was dark, almost midnight the last time you checked, a bowl of barely touched cereal in front of you as you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. 
Seokjin had come in about half an hour prior to talk with you, not necessarily about anything specific but you knew what he implied beneath all his questions and comments. It helped a little bit to discuss everything you were feeling with somebody who actually listened, and Seokjin had a natural ability to cheer you up.
You looked up at the sound of footsteps, sighing at the sight of Yoongi quickly coming into view. It wasn’t like you disliked the lycan, you two just didn’t have the strongest connection with each other yet and if you were being honest you were slightly intimidated by the black haired boy. He was quiet, always observing and barely talking. 
Nobody spoke, not that you were surprised, the sound of your metal spoon clinking against the bowl sharp against the otherwise silent room. Yoongi stood with his back against the fridge, a bottle of water held tight between his nimble, pale fingers as he watched you with an intimidating gaze. 
“We need to talk,” He suddenly spoke, moving to rest his forearms on the kitchen island. “About Jeongguk.” 
You knew this was coming. Between Yoongi and Seokjin, you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole pack knew about what happened between you and Jeongguk. That doesn’t mean you want to speak to them about it, though.
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” your voice was quiet, your eyes remaining downcast on the now soggy bowl of cereal. 
“You’re right, you didn’t.” You could feel his eyes on you, watching your face for any shift in reaction, no matter how miniscule. This is the most you’ve ever heard him speak in the two weeks you’ve known him. “But Jeongguk, he’s-he’s young. He’s sensitive.” 
There was nothing to say, nothing you could say. You knew that all of this was coming from the good of heart, but it felt like you were getting blamed for something that was out of your control. 
“I know you’re still slightly new at this,” you scoffed at that, tonguing the inside of your cheek in frustration. It sounded like he was placing the blame on you, like it was your fault Jeongguk lashed out and didn’t come back. It wasn’t though, and you weren’t going to let him, or anybody else, make it seem like it was. “But things are different for us. We don’t feel things the same way you do, we don’t understand things like you do.” 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you mumbled, pushing away the bowl of cereal. 
“Wolves mate for life, Y/N.” Yoongi spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looked at the upset look on your face. “And Jeongguk already fell for you.” 
Jeongguk didn’t come back for a week. 
The wait for him was agonizingly long, not just for you but for the rest of the pack as well. By the fourth day you could see the nervousness apparent on the other’s faces, and then by the fifth you could hear the arguments in the other room and the tiny whispers at dinner. You couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault, the guilt constantly eating away at your stomach and making you feel sick. 
You knew Jeongguk could easily take care of himself out there, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about him. 
You managed to hear him before you saw him. 
It was getting pretty late, the sun quickly setting into the horizon as you sat in the main room. Everybody else had already retired back into their rooms for the night, leaving you alone as you mindlessly drew in an old sketchbook Jeongguk had given you the first few nights you were here.
 He obviously didn’t want to be heard, immediately backtracking as soon as his paw made a creak in the wood flooring of the porch. 
“Jeongguk?” you whispered, setting your stuff down on the couch before slowly getting up. The lycan looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face, ears pinned on his head as he quickly retreated back in the forest.
 Your bare feet scratched against the harsh forest floor as you followed after him, the clean clothes one of the boys left out each night in case he came back one night in your hands as you quickly caught up to him. He wasn’t running, he was hardly even jogging, instead walking at a leisurely pace ahead of you with his nose held high. 
He stopped behind a tree to shift, the sounds making your nose curl in disgust as you dropped the clothes on the floor next to him before turning around to give him privacy. You could hear the sound of him pulling his pants up, facing him again once you heard him start to walk away. 
“Where have you been, Jeongguk?” you questioned, your anger quickly rising as he made it a point to stay silent. Fresh scratches and bruises littered his sides and shoulders, the sight making you even more upset than before. 
“What happened, Guk? Why are you all beat up?” your anger was quickly replaced with worry, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him. His standoffish attitude was really starting to affect you, you hadn’t even had a chance to properly see his face as he kept his back turned towards you but you would bet it looked just as worse as the rest of him. 
“Everybody was worried about you,” tears were falling down your cheeks openly now, the pent up emotions finally making an appearance. Your voice was shaky and low as you confessed, “I was worried about you.”
Jeongguk stopped suddenly at that, his fists clenching at his sides as he hung his head. You carefully made your way up to him, your cold palm against his hot skin making him jump slightly as you touched the center of his back. His face wasn’t as bad as you expected, a small cut on his cheek being the only thing you could see as you stepped in front of him. 
“Did you feel anything between us?” He looked vulnerable as he asked you that question, nothing like the big bad Alpha that you first met all those months ago. The thought made you chuckle, your hand reaching up to softly stroke the cut on his face. “Anything at all?” 
“Of course I did, Guk.” you smiled, your thumb tracing indistinguishable shapes on his cheek as you looked into his eyes. 
“Then why won’t you stay with me?” 
You sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. He was young, younger than you at least, so you knew you couldn’t blame him for not understanding. “It’s not that simple, Jeongguk you know that.”  
The lycan nodded, the once hopeful look in his eye dying as he attempted to take a step back away from your touch. You grabbed him before he could, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you forced him to look at you. 
“But we will find a way,” you smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the confused expression on his face. “I’m not going to leave you, Guk. Never.”
You intended to keep true to your statement, there had to be a way to figure this all out. No situation was purely black and white, and you’ll find the shades of gray in between no matter what. 
The feeling of his lips was incredibly warm as he pushed them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he put into kissing you wasn’t anything you felt before, the feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sending butterflies in your stomach. 
His hands fell down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. You gasped at the feeling of the rough tree bark against you, his body pinning you further back as he continued exploring your mouth with his own. 
You pulled back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jeongguk smirked at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck. The elongated point of his incisors scrapped lightly against your pulse, making you shudder at the sensation.
This was everything Jeongguk dreamed of; the feeling of your soft skin beneath his claws and the innocent look in your eyes as you stared up at him. The things he’d do to you as you lied beneath him, baring your neck in submission to your Alpha as pumped you full of his seed in hopes of putting his pups in your belly. He shuddered at the thought. 
The strands of his hair were silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bit down on a certain area of your neck that made your core clench. You didn’t know if he could smell your quickly rising arousal, but judging by the smirk you felt against your lips as he kissed his way back up your neck proved he did. 
“Guk,” you whispered, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?” 
Jeongguk opened his eyes, his hands stilling immediately as he moved his face in front of yours. “Do you want to?” 
“I do.” You nodded, moving your hands from his hair to his bare back, mindful of the bruises and cuts already there. The lycan continued his ministrations, pulling your shirt above your head quickly before making his way down your clavicle. You were hyper aware of the fact you were outside, mindful of anything, or anyone, who may be watching or listening. 
“So pretty,” Jeongguk murmured into your skin, biting and sucking marks into your breast. You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back and blowing cold air on it. His hands were on your waist, kneading roughly as he pushed his body further against yours. “You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted this.”
“Me too,” Your voice was breathy, your hands reached down to palm him slowly over his jeans as his whimpers of pleasure sent waves of arousal through your body. He pulled back from your grip, smirking at you as you attempted to reign him back in--your body cold and exposed to anybody who may be watching.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him pick up his discarded hoodie, laying it out on the forest floor before walking back over to you. He led you back towards it slowly, his mouth back on yours as he licked into your mouth and his hand wrapped around your throat possessively. 
The fabric was soft against your knees as he carefully pushed you down, the feeling of his warm hand splayed around your neck making you dizzy in pleasure. 
“Guk,” you whispered, kissing one of the bruises that were blossoming on his side gently. He moved his hand from your neck to hair, tightening it in a fist as you unbuttoned his jeans, pushing down the denim to expose his cock to your hungry eyes.  
Jeongguk was big, flushed red at the tip with veins running along the skin, hot and heavy in your hand as you gripped him. Your mouth watered slightly at the sight, pushing your thighs together before licking a long stripe from the base all the way to the head. His groans made your core clench, shifting desperately for friction. 
Your lips wrapped around his cock, stretching around his girth as your tongue wrapped around the tip and dipped into the slit. The lycan moaned loudly, his fist tightening in your hair and tugging you down slowly. 
“‘S this okay?” Jeongguk asked quietly, whimpering at the feeling of you humming an affirmative around him. You worked on getting him slick with spit, a steady rhythm starting to form the more you bobbed your head up and down. 
Gagging slightly at the pressure at the back of your throat you went as far down as you could, tears bubbling in your eyes as you relished in the pleasured moans coming from his mouth. You could feel your core clenching around nothing, the wetness between your thighs making you shift uncomfortably at the emptiness. 
Pulling off with a pop saliva dripped down your chin, your hands spreading the wetness on his shaft as you looked up at him with fucked out eyes. You felt his hand wrap lightly around your throat again, the pressure intoxicating as you pushed you to lie down on the ground. 
Jeongguk’s mouth was back on yours as soon as your back touched the fabric, his forearms caged around your head. You moaned at the feeling of one of his hands coming down to rub your core over the thin material of your leggings, hips rising of their own accord to chase after the feeling.
“Mmm, you’re so wet, baby,” The lycan purred, biting down on your bottom lip with one of his incisors. It stung, you could taste the iron as blood seeped from the cut and into your mouth. Jeongguk growled at the sight, taking the chance to lick into your mouth and taste the blood on your tongue with his own. 
The feeling was intoxicating, your head swimming with pleasure as you felt Jeongguk’s rough fingers dip beneath your clothes and stroke your bare core. You haven’t been this intimate with anybody in a long time, so you were extremely sensitive to all his advances. 
“Fuck,” you whimpered, wincing at the slight burn as he inserted a fingered into you slowly. You haven’t had anything inside of you for so long, welcoming the pain that came with it.
“Gonna stretch you out nice and good,” Jeongguk whispered in your ear, biting on the soft flesh there. “Make sure you’re ready to take my fat cock, isn’t that right baby?” 
You nodded at his words, grinding your hips onto his fingers as the tightening feeling in your lower stomach kept building. His words were affecting you more than you thought, your fluids dripping down his digits and soaking your leggings. 
He hastily got rid of the offending garment, a slight tearing sound reaching your ears as you were left completely bare in front of his hungry eyes. You gasped when you were suddenly flipped over, cheek pressed up against the soft fabric of Jeongguk’s hoodie and your hips pulled high in a rather demeaning, submissive position. 
The sudden feeling of the lycan’s rough tongue on your core made you whimper from pleasure, his rough hands spreading your lips and further exposing you. You flushed deeply in embarrassment at the feeling of your juices leaking down the inside of your thighs, though Jeongguk eagerly lapped them up with no sounds of protest. 
With the pressure on your clit and the fullness of his fingers scissoring deep in your core you couldn’t help it, the budding tightness unravelling as you came onto his tongue. Your body shook lightly, trembling in his grip as you attempted to bite back your moans. 
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jeongguk confessed, his mouth glistening with the aftermath of your orgasm. He gave you a little bit to recover before you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, the sensitivity from your previous release making you whimper and recoil slightly. 
His body covered yours as he leaned over you, sandwiching you between the floor and him as he pushed slowly into you inch by inch. He felt so good inside you, hot and pulsing between your thighs with each forward stroke. 
“I’m going to breed you so good, baby,” Jeongguk moaned, linking his fingers with your own as he finally bottomed out in you. “Make you take this knot and put a litter of pups deep in that little womb of yours. Wouldn’t you like that?” 
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. It hurt, but the pain mingled with the pleasure deliciously--taking everything he was giving you with a stream of satisfied moans. The only thing that managed to distract you from the pleasant fullness of your core was the mention of the word ‘knot’. You didn’t understand what he meant by that, but you also didn’t attempt to evaluate his words as your body jerked forward at the next thrust. 
Your juices were leaking all over Jeongguk’s sweatshirt, staining the fabric and making you flush at the scene when you lowered your head to peer in between your legs. The sight of your lower stomach bulging with the lycan’s cock only made you more wet, your moans and whimpers echoing in the quickly darkening forest. 
Jeongguk took notice of your fascination, moving one of his hands from your hips to palm gently below your navel. It felt better than you thought it would, your knees trembling and threatening to give out from beneath you from the pleasure. He leaned back on his knees from his previous position over you, his other palm warm against your skin as he pushed between your shoulder blades. 
“Harder,” you cried, shutting your eyes at the feeling of another orgasm quickly building. Jeongguk complied, his fingers pushing hard against your clit and relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing him tightly. 
He was a complete mess, almost as much as you were, your cum sticky on his thighs and sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. The thin strings of your juices connecting you two together made a gross wet noise each time he pulled out, the sounds it made as he pushed back in making him growl in enjoyment. 
Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your vision going black as you shut your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The oversensitivity made you wince as Jeongguk kept fucking you, slightly pulling away from him before he roughly pulled you back. 
“Almost there, baby,” He whispered, kissing your neck reassuringly. He was almost there, he could feel his stomach tightening with his impending release. “Take it, Y/N. I know you can.” 
Nodding, you continued to moan at the slightly painful feeling. It felt good, so good, tears falling onto your flushed, sweaty cheeks as your body jerked forward with each rub against your walls. 
Something felt wrong, the pressure between your legs was growing and getting tighter with each thrust Jeongguk made inside of you. Paired with the oversensitivity from your two previous orgasms, it hurt to feel stretched out so much. 
“G-guk wait,” you whimpered, clenching your fists around the fabric beneath you as you shut your eyes shut at the pain. “Hurts-” 
“It’s okay, It’s okay,” Jeongguk shushed, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face as he pushed you further to the ground. “You can take my knot, right baby?”
You sighed at the mention of his knot, wondering if this is what he meant by it-- the growing and painful pressure stretching your core to it’s max with no signs of stopping. You trusted Jeongguk, though, and knew he wouldn’t do anything deliberate to hurt you. “I can, yea. I can.” 
The feeling of his cum emptying inside you made you moan, warm against your walls and temporarily distracting you from the pain of his inflating knot. With one last hard thrust you two were locked together, Jeongguk moaning loudly from behind you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The scraping of his elongated teeth against your skin made you shiver as he continued to release inside you. 
He slowly rolled the two of you onto your sides once he was finished, gripping the inside of your thigh and holding it up slightly to prevent the two of you from experiencing any unnecessary pain. Looking down at your battered and abused core, you saw Jeongguk’s excess cum leaking from the sides of his knot; wet and sticky on the sides of your thighs. The visual made you flush deeply. 
You were beyond tired, slumping tiredly against the boy as you felt his warm tongue licking your skin. The feeling made you chuckle. “What are you doing?” 
“Grooming you,” Jeongguk mumbled nonchalantly, continuing without hesitation. He swept over your abundance of bite marks and hickeys with the wet muscle, pausing to leave little kisses on each one of them. His palm was heavy as he cupped your stomach protectively. 
“Can I bite you?” 
“Can you what?”
You looked over your shoulder at the boy, taking in his fucked out expression and incredibly flushed cheeks as he stared at you with his intimidating red eyes. He didn’t seem affected by your surprise. 
“Bite you, mark you as mine.” His voice suddenly got quiet, lowering to look at the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he stroked the skin there softly. “Make you my mate.” 
Thinking back to Yoongi’s words, you knew the implications that came with what he said. You also knew that by agreeing to be Jeongguk’s mate, you would have little to no chance of going back to the life you once had. But everything Jeongguk gave you, everything he made you feel wasn’t something you wanted to give up. 
“Okay,” You whispered, closing your eyes before reopening them and giving the boy a small smile. The look on his face was indescribable, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you both looked at each other in happiness. “Okay.” 
His lips were on yours in a second, pushing hard against your own with a smile on his face. You kissed back with the same enthusiasm, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth quickly before he pulled back. 
“It’s going to hurt a bit,” Jeongguk murmured against your lips, gently pushing your face back against the fabric so he could reach your shoulder easily. He kissed the skin of your neck lightly, your pulse hot against his mouth as he gripped your hand, running his thumb along the raised scar there. “Don’t be scared.” 
You didn’t have much time to prepare before there was an immense pain spreading throughout your entire body, your screams of pain disturbing the quiet forest around you. It burned so much, the feeling indescribable as the feeling continued to spread throughout your entire body. His teeth weren’t in there for long, pulling back out after a couple of seconds as you felt blood drip down your back. 
“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, cupping your cheek in his hand as he pulled your face up to his. You could see the blood staining his face and teeth, dripping down his neck and chin as he consoled you through the pain. “You’re okay, I promise.” 
Looking at him through the tears you smiled, kissing the worried look off his face as the burning pain finally started to diminish. The taste of iron was heavy on your tongue. 
Both of you did, in fact, manage to find a way. 
About a week after you and Jeongguk’s endeavor in the woods, he had managed to convince you to move everything from your grandfather’s cabin into your room while you moved in with him in his. It took a lot of consideration, and negotiation from Jeongguk’s side, but you were happy. 
That being said, you still visited the cabin every now and then to make sure everything was okay. 
Walking back into the pack house afterwards was awkward, you couldn’t look anybody in the eye as you walked past them, attempting to hide all the marks on your neck with your shirt while Jeongguk grinned ear to ear like a damn fool. 
It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, the smell of blood and sex tainted the air as soon as you stepped foot in the house much to yours and Seokjins adamant dismay. He yelled at both of you after you showed up, going off on how you could have at least washed off in the lake to at least attempt to hide what you two were up to, and to Jeongguk for running away like a hormonal, upset teenager. 
You were told that once Jeongguk bit you, you didn’t have your own unique scent anymore. Instead, you were permanently masked by Jeongguk’s smell to remind everybody who you belonged to. The fact made you blush when he told you, the thought oddly comforting and making your belly tighten. 
As you were packing everything into boxes to transport them back to the pack house, you had given Namjoon the picture that used to be above your fireplace mantle, now knowing who the once mysterious wolves next to him were. He thanked you immensely. 
Overall, everybody was happy. You were happy. This was a new beginning in your life, and you wouldn’t change anything that happened for the world. 
9K notes · View notes
sweetaesuga · a year ago
in your eyes | m
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pairing: jungkook x female reader!
genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, fratboy jk! ex-fuckboy jk! bookworm reader! friends to lovers!
warnings: language, insecurity, drinking, dom jungkook! fingering in public, exhibitionism, female masturbation, grinding, oral (m), dirty talk, light choking, degrading (slut/whore), squirting, creampie, unprotected sex (both are clean but stay safe), bathroom sex, riding, pinning.
word count: 10.6k+
synopsis: jungkook always sees you like the only girl in the world, and you just see him as a fuckboy. OR jungkook just wants a chance🥺
↳ a/n: first time i ever write a fic or smut please enjoy🤧 
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You were only sixteen when you met him. He stepped into the classroom in all dark baggy clothes in an uneasy walk. At first glance you would of thought he was a timid person. Wrong, under all of that bullshit you see an egoistic and self-assured asshole that you're somehow happy to call your friend. You even learned that it was facade. Jungkook was a boy with a good heart who always remained loyal to all of his friends.
Jungkook just turned seventeen when he met you, noticing you straight away when you had a nice sense of fashion. You always had on an accessory that matched with the color of your shirt or jeans. You also always wore a bit of bright colors in your outfits. The bright unique makeup is what caught his attention too. He was proud to call you his friend.
When you both happily entered the same college along with your best friend Hayoon, everything changed. He began hanging out with a new group of friends, they were all older than them and deeply influenced him. He joined a fraternity then and began spending less time with you. He only came over to study or celebrate your birthday. His busyness merely reminded you how he preferred to spend his time hooking up with random girls every week rather than play board games with you or rant to him about your new book you were reading.
You don't exactly remember when he started but you do remember all the girls that talked about how amazing he was in bed which solely added more uncertainty on you. You even walked in on him and a freshman girl going at it in one of the sorority’s room at a party you were both attending.
The memory of when he started crushing on you was foggy to you but he always remembered it in a flash. It was when he had a taekwondo match, where circumstantially Jungkook's girlfriend, who wasn't really his girlfriend, at the time couldn't make it. His hopes were put down by the thought of someone not supporting him, since he always tried his best with his own cheerleader being there.
In the middle of the match, his eyes scanned the bleachers, wishing for someone to be there. His wishes were granted as he saw you there. Standing awkwardly, you gave him a little wave with a smile. His chest heaved in glee, sending you a quick smile before he returned to his match.
The sound of you screaming his name when he won, put a enormous smile on his face. Jungkook watched you run down the bleachers, apologizing to all the people you were bumping through. You leaped into his arms easily.
Your next words to him were a blur since Jungkook was too focused on just having you in his arms. He was grinning happily at you, hair sticking to his forehead. His heart heaved with warmth as you hugged him tightly.
He was twenty-one and you were twenty when he realized he had a crush on you.
You were seventeen when you realized you liked him.
But you were nineteen when you realized you would never be good enough for him.
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"He then had the audacity to ask me if I slept with anyone else! The nerve of that guy," you felt like your ear was going to bleed out just by listening to your best friend blabber about her ex-boyfriend.
"Why don't you just stop talking to him? I don't know...block his number or something?" you suggested, very uninterested in this conversation about her ex-boyfriend contacting her. She could simply just block him out her life and be done with him. 
You stared at the worn out rubber of the tip of your black converse. She popped the gum in her mouth, the sound became annoying to you. Hayoon squinted her eyes at you, trying to find something to say to argue back to you. She instead changed the subject. "Where were you on Saturday?"
"Studying like the rest of the students here," you moved to rest your weight onto your right leg. "I just can't seem to understand how finals are coming up and some people are out here partying? The library was packed when I got there."
"Yeah well I wouldn't know because I didn't go," she grinned at you. "Instead I went to a party because I'm not a loser like you!" Hayoon giggled to herself and you rolled your eyes. "Also," she popped the gum loudly. "Jungkook was asking for you. Calling for his dream girl. . .or something like that—I don't know can't remember—too drunk you know?"
Your ears perked up to that. "Really?" you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear that got in the way and leaned forward. "Did you remember why he was looking for me?"
Hayoon grinned again. "Even if I do know why would you care? Don't you hate him or something?" she smiled evilly and threw her head back.
You froze and leaned back to your seat. You know what she was trying to do and it was never going to happen.
You were never going to give Jeon Jungkook a chance.
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Jungkook stumbled into the library, eyes searching for you immediately. There was nearly a crowd of students that were preparing for finals. "Hey have you guys seen Y/N?" he asked a study group. A girl in your class answered him, telling him that you were somewhere by the windows.
Of course you were, he thought to himself. You would be seated at your usual spot. He walked over to the windows and spotted you straight away. Watching your figure become closer as he walked further, he took the sandwich out of his bag. "Hey Y/N!" you already knew that voice. You looked up at Jungkook. As usual he looked drop-dead gorgeous. He wore his usual dark baggy outfit, a black cargo jogger and a much darker hoodie with some black combat boots. He was showing off his helix piercing and his fresh new haircut.
"Nice haircut," you referred to his undercut and the fact that he was showing forehead. "Seems like you spent a lot of time on it."
"Yeah! Just for you," he smiled, his cheeks being pushed up. You let out a heavy sigh, clearly not in the mood for his flirtatiousness. "Got you a sandwich, by the way," he laid it in front of you.
You let out a small smile and took it from him, trying not to show how your mouth got watery so quickly. "Thanks, you didn't have to though," he shook his head.
"I don't want you starving to death," he sat down next to you, shoulder pressing against yours. "What are you studying for?" his nose nuzzled your ear. You rolled your eyes and shoved him away, ignoring the goosebumps his warm breath caused.
"Just getting my notes ready. Wanna highlight or color code it but feel like it's going to fuck up everything. Also don't wanna be those fucking girls that always have to make their fucking notes pretty. Also, do I look tired?" he studied your face for any features that made you seem exhausted. "I was up till two in morning watching these two Indian guys build a pool."
His eyes lit up. "Oh my god, I come across from those too."
"I know they came up all over my fucking Youtube recommendations. I got sucked into binge watching them. It makes me feel fucking lazy to be honest, the amount of fucking water they carry back and forth. I wouldn’t be able to do that.”
Jungkook snickered and made a note of how much you swore. "I need to make a swear jar for you. You swear too much."
"Not even," you laughed back at him and nudged his shoulder. "I'm just a little frustrated and stressed right now," his gaze dropped on the purple pins in your hair, holding each side of your hair. "I called my mom and she said to not stress over this, but you know how I get," you frowned and turned to him. He finally took in your appearance. Your bright purple eyeshadow with purple gems adorning the top of it. You wore a purple flare pants and a white long sleeved, deep v-line crop top. His eyes dropped down to your cleavage, trying to see if you had a bra on.
"Holy shit Y/N!" the students around him shushed him. He burned up and muttered a sorry to them, you giggled at how embarrassed he looked. "You look amazing. What's the special occasion?"
"Nothing," you shook your head, a smile still on your face. "Can't I dress up once in awhile?" Jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, knowing that you normally only wear outfits like this when they’re new or it’s the first week of school. "Okay," you dragged your word out. "I got this outfit last week and really wanted to use it today. It's cute right?"
"Yeah, really cute," he toyed with your hair pins, messing up your hair.
Neglecting his comment, you carried on. "I even got up in early in the morning to do my makeup. If I'm gonna show up wearing a new outfit, I might as well have a cute ass face to go with it," you frowned when you remembered something. "And I realized I don't have different color hair pins, they're all purple so thank fuck the fucking pants are purple."
"Well I think you look very cute, Y/N. Boop!" he poked your nose gently. You swatted his hand away, warning him to stop but all you're given is a large bunny smile. "Come on, eat your sandwich. I didn't just come all the way over here searching for you just to talk to you."
"Actually you did bitch."
"Oof, swear jar," he rested his palm out in front you. You took a bite out of the sandwich, placing a quarter on his palm. "No a dollar, Y/N."
"No! What the fuck—wait!" he held out his palm again. "That's not fucki—hold up, you can't just say a dollar," you whined and grabbed your bag. "I don't have money growing out of my ass."
"I don't know that yet. I'm gonna have to check to make sure," you threw a dollar at him. He laughed and picked it up.
"I know your kind," you spatted at him and tossed the other two dollars at him which he easily caught. "Wanna drain my f-freaking bank account."
"Oh come on, I want you to be my sugar mama," he jested, leaning forward to give you a huge smug.
"Sucks to be you actually. I'm looking to be a sugar baby, not a sugar mama," you glanced over your shoulder towards him. His laugh echoed and you watched as students gave him a dirty look from how loud it was.
"Of course. You're the brokest bitch in the city no one actually wants you to be their sugar mama," you gasped at his words.
"Am not!"
"Are so!" you both laughed at each other. His hand searched for yours underneath the table. He must've noticed how tensed up you had gotten when he found it, managing to wrap your smaller fingers into his. "I've been meaning to talk to you by the way."
You groaned, knowing where this will be going. "Jungkook, stop I'm not in the mood," you caught a quick glimpse of the time. "Look, I have to go, my bus will be coming soon." You don't let him mention anything else. Bolting out of the library, you leave a crestfallen Jungkook behind.
He shook his head and took the half eaten sandwich you also left behind. He trailed behind you, backpack threatening to fall down his arm. You proceeded to walk to the bus stop, Jungkook just close behind. "Didn't see you at the party on Saturday?" the voice came from behind you. You opt to ignore it but by the sound of his voice it was easy to tell that he has been dying to ask this question. When you didn't answer him, he tried again. "Seriously where were you on Saturday?"
You sunk down on the bench. "None of your business."
"Well, I was kind of worried about you. I thought you were going to be there so that's why I came," he took a seat right besides you. "Once I saw you weren't there, I left."
"I was at the library studying for finals," you weren't sure why you were telling him this.  After his little confession your heart felt weird. If you hadn't told him though, he probably would've guessed it. Still, he needed confirmation.
"What? Why didn't you tell me? We could’ve studied together!" he complained, nudging his shoulder with yours.
"Jungkook stop, I know what you're doing," you glared at him, wanting to get away. He frowned and reached over to hold you. "I already told you no," you hissed, disregarding the way his eyes appeared sunken at your response.
"Why not? I already told you, I'm not messing around anymore. I genuinely want to settle down with someone," he stared into your eyes with such intensity you felt like your brain was going to explode. Your ears took in his words slowly. "I want to be with you."
"Jungkook, please—"
"Come on, one date. I swear to god I've changed," he ranted. He's always been very keen on having a chance with you, but with all those girls that he used to take home you felt otherwise. You would listen to the girls on how good Jungkook was. How good he looked at night in the dark moonlight. How he would manhandle them in random places. How his muscles would appear every time he flexed them. How those hips of his were a miracle. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn't ever want to see him that way too.
"I'm flattered, I really am—I just really don't want to be with someone like you. I'm sorry," you apologized, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.
He blinked then squinted his eyes at you. "What do you mean someone like me?" He sounded somewhat offended at your words.
"You used to fuck around!" you fumed and threw your hands up. The bus was coming down the road towards the two of you. "I don't like that."
"Why not?" He's way too stubborn to let you go, you forgot.
"Because...I just don't okay? Lets leave it there," you stood up and walked over to the bus once it opened its doors. He followed close behind. Before you can enter your dollar into the machine, he does it for you.
The bus driver smiled at him while you glared at him. You walked to the back of the bus, smiling to all the other passengers but secretly upset. Jungkook still followed you like a lost puppy. You slid down in the seat. Your left arm feeling the side of the bus once you properly sat down. "Here, I'll pay you back," you hold out the dollar bill but he sat still in his seat.
"Well shit, sugar mama not right now," You sighed and put it back in your bag. You heard him snort.
"Come on, tell me why you won't give me a chance and I'll leave you alone," he offered. He held your eyes for a moment before you let out a breath of air and looked away.
If he’ll leave you alone, then you must have to say why you won’t grant him a chance with you, a chance for him to become your boyfriend.
"I'm too insecure for you," he opened his mouth but you shushed him. "I'm do I put this? I'm not like them?" you questioned and glanced over at him. He had a look of worry washed all over his face. "The girls that you were with are those who are all popular, party all day, and are very attractive. They all do casual sex, and I don't want be that type of person, I want something serious. Like you have dated Soojin! She's really pretty, makes me gay even," you chuckled at yourself. "That's not the point though. If I'm with you, all I could ever think about is the girls you were with and how different I am from them. I just can't be with someone when all I'll ever think about are my insecurities with them. So how could I possibly ever be good enough for you?" you don't look at him after that.
He sighed and gripped your small hand into his. You almost cringed when you remembered how sweaty your hands were. "That's why I'm after you though. You're not like them. I wanted a change. You are good enough, you'll always be good enough for me. Hell, I feel like I’m not good enough for you. And I really don't care if you're any of that other stuff. I still want to have a shot with you." you don't realize how long you both were holding eye contact. The two of you don't look away from each other however. You don’t even comprehend how close you two have gotten. He reached over to push back a strand of your hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched.
"I don't know Jungkook, I'm just really unsure," you admitted and leaned back in your seat to create some distance between you two. "My mind isn't clear right now but I highly doubt I would want to give you a chance."
"Really? You don't want me?" he bit his lip and glanced over at you. "How can I change your mind?" you stopped functioning when he reached over to press up against your thigh. His fingers travelled over to your inner thigh. He kept rubbing circles around there for a few minutes, hand drawing closer each time. Your cheeks grew crimson once you wrapped your mind around on how wet you become so quickly, and he barely even touched you what an embarrassment.
You were only getting aroused quickly because of how long your dry spell was. You haven’t being touched in so long that you craved it so much, no matter who it was with.
"What are you doing?" you hated how you felt so hot under his eyes at the moment. He brushed you aside until you repeated your question again.
"Nothing," his lips curved upwards. He faced forward, ignoring the fact that his hand was practically between your legs.
"Jungkook, stop that!" you hissed and whacked his hand away. He withdrew his hand from your inner thigh but still kept it at the top of your thigh. His thumb gently tracing circles into your skin.
"Bet you're fucking wet under that," he commented. You caught his stare, watching his eyes fixed on your cleavage. A smile forms across his face when he takes notice of how you're rubbing your thighs together. "Don't be scared, I'll go easy on you. You wearing those pink panties that I love on you?"
You knew what he was referring to. Leaving your laundry on your bed wasn't a good idea especially when an excited Jungkook was coming over to watch a new episode of You, but he didn't give you time to pick it up so your baby pink lace underwear was out on the sheets. "Shut up. I'm not going to let you do shit," you furiously crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes flickered back down to your breasts that were shoved up into a tighter position.
"Really? You say that but you're on the verge of asking me to touch you. I know it, Y/N," you bit your lip hard to avoid saying something. You heard him laugh. "It's okay, no one will notice, if you're a good slut and keep your mouth shut." Your eyes widened at his words.
You’ve never been called a degrading name in bed. With the two boyfriends you’ve been with, they always called you loving names that had gotten boring quick as well as their vanilla sex. Yet somehow it stirred you up at the thought of being called a slut, especially Jungkook calling you that.
But it was almost like a completely different Jungkook had surfaced. You knew he was some sort of sex god but didn't expect him to have such a dirty mouth. You decided to test the waters. A little fun wouldn’t hurt.
You spread your legs a little wider, inviting him to get closer. He stared into your eyes as you stared down at his hand. "Unbutton your pants," he demanded. Your eyes expanded even more at his words. You were just thinking of getting him eager not to do something here.
You looked around to see if anyone could see or hear you two but they were all facing forward and minding their own business. Your hands went to unbutton your pants, pushing your zipper down. "Open your legs," you did as you were told. "Wider, wider," your right leg rested on top of his muscular thigh. "You wet enough?" he asked, reaching down to your core. You shivered when his hand entered your underwear. He sinks his two fingers in and you whined. He took his fingers out, gazing on the glistening wetness on it.
"Dirty fucking slut," he murmured and dig his fingers back into you. You gripped his wrist harshly but encouraged him to add more fingers. He complied and proceeded to finger you in the back of the bus. "Never thought I would finger the girl of my dreams in the back of the bus," he chuckled as he heard you calling out his name. "You gotta be quiet if you don't wanna get caught." he teased softly. He pounded his fingers into you faster. His eyes laying upon your furrowed eyebrows and bitten lip. You began to nudge into his fingers, meeting him halfway with the movement of your hips. Your grip on his wrist tightened as he touched your clit with the tip of his finger. He snorted and proceeded to move against you, ignoring his hardness that was forming in his pants. You threw your head back and stared up at the ceiling. You bit your lip hard, almost drawing blood.
Jungkook clutched your knee, forcing you to open wider. You raked over the passengers in the seat, who are still unaware of you getting fingered at the back of the bus. You moaned into his hoodie. You let go of his wrist to hold his bicep. He looked down at you. He reached over to cup your face, bringing your lips to meet his. You’re taken back a little but nonetheless you open your mouth to tempt him to slid his mouth in. He fulfilled your craving. The two of you looked like random teenagers making out in the back but what they couldn't see was his fingers stuck up your wet core.
"Jesus fucking Christ," you said under your breath, pulling away from his redden lips. His fingers pounded brutally into you. He showed no sign of slowing down.
"You make a fucking noise and I swear to god I will take you on this bus full of people. I don't give a fuck, Y/N," your pussy quenched around him at that. Your wetness glimmered on his fingers.
"Oh my god, Jungkook, oh my god," you moaned against his neck. Hiding your face from him, you picked up the pace of your hips. "Uh—fuck, holy shit do that again," you referred to him touching your clit. He does that again. "Oh fuck," you whimpered when you felt an uneasy feeling building up within you. "I'm gonna fucking cum."
"Yeah? That fucking early? I knew your little pussy wouldn't be able to take it," Jungkook's lips formed a smirk. "And this is just with my fingers babe. Bet you can't handle my dick," you ignored him. You sobbed into his neck and leaned up to kiss him in efforts to silence your moans, cumming hard all over his fingers. It takes two minutes before you released Jungkook from the kiss. He drew his hand away from your skirt and made sure you were holding eye contact with him when he cleaned his fingers with his tongue.
You gulped. Reality finally hit you. You had let Jungkook finger you in the back of the bus. 
You pushed back against your seat and looked around to see if anyone was looking. Everyone on the bus was still unaware and you felt like you can breathe again. "Holy shit I can not believe we just did that," you brushed your hair back, somewhat disappointed at yourself for not stopping him.
Jungkook's smile surfaced. "I can't believe you just let me do that. Wanna return the favor?" he asks jokingly but watched your face to see if you were willing to suck him off. His hopes are put down when a frown appeared on your face and he could tell you wouldn't feel comfortable with that. "Joking babe."
"Don't call me that, please," you stressed. "This was a mistake, seriously don't ever speak of this with any of your friends. We're not going to speak of it either."
"I wasn't even going to," he muttered and looked away. "Funny how it's a mistake, Y/N, when you were over here telling me to keep going."
You fanned yourself, flapping your hand back and forth in front of your face. Jungkook looked at the layer of sweat near your hairline that glistened under the sunlight. "Stop, it was in the heat of the moment. It seriously was a mistake," he opened his mouth but you carried on. "Especially in the back of the bus, oh god, I'm really disappointed in myself," you zipped up your flare pants, not minding that your underwear is sticking to you.
"And I'm really disappointed in you too, for not giving me a chance," Jungkook said with knitted eyebrows. You sit away from him, making sure there was a good amount of space between the two of you. "Oh are you just going to ignore me now?" he isn't given a response, your tongue knotted together in your mouth. "So that's how it's gonna be now?"
You gathered your bag. The bus curving towards the upcoming bus stop. "This is my stop," you disclosed. He captured your forearm which quickly caught your attention.
"Don't be like this, Y/N." You shrug him off and walked out of the bus, leaving Jungkook and his gloomy thoughts behind.
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"Shut up, stop playing with me!" Hayoon exclaimed, her eyes glimmered with interest as you filled her in on the day before. "You did not let Jungkook finger you on the back of the bus," she laughed out loud at her sentence, still not believing the words coming out of your mouth. You groaned and sunk your head back down on the table. "I mean gross, but hey, you're catching dick."
"I'm not catching dick, and stop saying it's gross it makes me even more disappointed in myself."
"I just don't understand how you can tell him you don't want him and tell him the reasons why and then let him finger you at the back of the bus?!" your face scrunched up at her words. "I seriously don't get it Y/N. It's like you're provoking the guy that's going after you and that's pretty fucked up. Play with his dick, not his emotions, oh wait—”
"I told him no multiple times."
"Then why the fuck would you let him finger you in the back of a bus?" Hayoon rubbed her temple before munching on a fry. "I think you do have a crush on him, you just don't want to date him because of all the girls he’s been with.”
You let her words settle in your mind for a moment, not even realizing that she held your hand in hers. "But baby, that's called the past. It's the least thing you got to worry about since you already know it. Take a risk, go out with him. He's ready to be in a serious relationship with you, he's been telling me this since Friday."
You sighed, lips forming a pout. "I don't know."
"Well make up your mind quick cause' he's coming this way," her words are rushed as she glanced over at Jungkook, who's heading over your way.
"What?!" you're just about to turn your head his direction when Hayoon grabbed your jaw.
"What are you doing you stupid bitch?! Don't look—okay, pretend like I'm not here, pretend like I'm not here!" she turned away from you and placed her earbuds in her ears.
"Wait does my hair look good?!" you caught her by the arm before she can leave.
"For who?"
You snapped her head towards Jungkook, who's already smiling at you. His black cap floated over his eyes as he dug his fingers into the pockets of his jogger pants. You coughed when you perceived that you were checking him out. "Um, no one. Just wanted to see if it's messy," you don't know why but your cheeks burned so hard, maybe at the fact that you know it is messy.
His hand came in contact with your head before he moved a strand of your hair that looked out of place before pushing your baby hairs down. You swatted his hands away, ignoring how your warm ears were tingling. "There, it's not that messy anymore. I brought something."
He sat down besides you. You eyes fluttered over to Hayoon. She spread a smirk out on her lips. While Jungkook continued finding the item he wanted to show you, something along the words that it was a jar. Her fist comes up besides her mouth, opening it slightly. Your cheeks become crimson when she began to push her left fist towards her mouth while her tongue kept knocking into her right cheek.
"Here," Jungkook placed a jar in front of you, the bright glittery letters mocking you. Swear Jar, it read at the front. "Every time you cuss, it's more money to my bank account."
Your lips loop downwards into a frown. Your eyebrows furrowed together in the progress. "Not fair, I told you I didn't want to be a sugar mama."
"Fine, this is both of our swear jar."
"Okay, now that that's out of the way, we can talk about yesterday," he put the glittery jar, he decorated last night for you, back in his backpack. A sudden weight pressed down on your shoulders at the thought of him bringing up what happened yesterday.
"Jesus Christ, what do you carry in there?" Hayoon added unintentionally and you're thankful for that. As much as she wanted to know about the encounter between the two of you, she also wanted to know what Jungkook carried in that big bag of his.
"Wait, deadass?" she jumped up in her seat. I snorted at her, earning a glare. Jungkook's lips formed a line, specifying that he was joking. "Well fuck, it just looks like it's gonna break your back. Dude you know what that reminds me of?" she asked you. Your mind doesn't come across anything so you shook your head. "The Rosie girl? She was giving dildos out at this campus cause' she wanted to, quote, fight absurdity with absurdity. All over Twitter. Wish I could be there to get one."
Jungkook's eyes crinkled up as he laughed at her. The sound ringing through your ears, only to devaste you even more. "Can we talk about yesterday?" he leaned over and whispered to you.
You swore you felt his lips brushing against your ear. It stirred up your brain. "What about yesterday?" your hands started shaking and you hoped he didn't see how anxious you have become.
Luck wasn't on your side today however, his upcoming question boosting your anxiety even more. "Why are your hands shaking so much?" he grasped his bigger hand in yours.
You are quick to take it out of his. "We agreed that we wouldn't talk about what happened yesterday. It was a mistake I didn't—"
"No, you agreed that we wouldn't talk about it," his voice raised slightly to get your attention. Your mouth snapped shut. "We need to talk about it. How the fuck can you be playing with my feelings like this?" Hayoon whistled, mentally seeing eye to eye with Jungkook. "I want to have a chance with you, a shot at us. You give me all these mixed signals and then when I try to make a move on you, all of the sudden you act like a bitch Y/N."
"Well what do you want me to say? That I fucking like you back too?" you challenged and stood up from your chair. The students around you turned their heads over to you, watching the scene in front of them unfold. "How the fuck am I even playing with your feelings? I said I wanted to just be friends! I'm sorry that you're misinterpreted our friendship but that's not my problem!" you wished you could've shut your mouth but all you could see was red. Perhaps you were letting go of all the rage you’ve ever resented over him for the past months.
For ditching you to attend parties or being with other girls. For not always being there for you.
"What the fuck do you mean that's not my problem?!" he mimicked you, staring up at you. "You let me finger you and you expect me to believe that you just wanna be friends? Are you even listening to yourself?! You felt something back there."
Hayoon stepped in, walking over to the two of you. "Okay, I think you guys should just shut up," your eyes wandered around the room, where everyone was watching your interaction.
"Whatever," Jungkook's chair scraped the floor harshly as he pushed it back. He dug into his backpack before placing the jar in front of you. "You can keep that and this," he put down a package full of glittery hair pins, all different colors. Your heart wrenched as you watched him walk away, sullen. His steps are quick so he can take the attention off of him.
You turned the jar and saw that the top had words on it. Splattered in messy pink glitter, Sugar Mama's Swear Jar :D.
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Jungkook was avoiding you. You could tell because he stopped coming after school to study with you, which was okay at first until you found yourself yearning for him.
It was stupid, really. After all that debate on how you two should just stay friends, you can't just tell him how much you miss him. That'll make you seem like an ass.
And trust me that's the last thing you want.
Your day was going bad, your professor yelled at you for not paying attention and put you in the spot, embarrassing you in front of the class. You were okay until a girl gave you a look of pity and you had a breakdown in the bathroom right after.
When you went to go meet up with Hayoon, it'll only got worse. She cancelled on you after forcing you to wait for her for thirty minutes. Just as you're leaving a group of middle schoolers thought it would be funny to step on a ketchup packet and let splatter everywhere, resulting in the back of your white top covered in dots of ketchup.
You swore you almost hit the kid who came up with it, even thought about running him over when you saw that the stains were everywhere and even in your hair.
After showering and getting the ketchup out of your hair, you went to work that ensued in you coming home with mascara practically running down your eyes, that were ready to pour out tears if something else happened to you, due to you wrongly mixing up orders and getting yelled out by a customer.
Now here you were, sitting on the living room floor with wet hair after taking another shower which mainly just involved you sitting on the tile floor and crying. You ate the Chinese takeout you have gotten during the way, ignoring the way people were staring at you, with sympathy.
It was the last thing you needed. Maybe karma was coming to get you for saying those things to Jungkook. But at this point all you wanted was some reassurance, a shoulder to cry on, someone to be there for you.
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You couldn't sleep. No matter how hard you tried you just couldn't. Hell, you even closed your eyes for a solid thirty minutes yet you were not able to drift off into slumber. Maybe it had to due with the weather? It was freezing, if you stepped a foot outside you would become an ice sculpture in an instant.
Or maybe, the most logical one compared to all the others, was Jungkook fingering you on the bus. You can't seem to get that scene off your mind. Your brain kept drifting over on how stunning he appeared, his dark eyes staring straight at yours as he watched your mouth form an O shape. He only ever broke eye contact when he snuck a look of how his fingers vanished into your pants.
Then your mind would stumble onto the memory of you yelling at him, telling him how his feelings for you were not your fault. You despised yourself at that moment. You sighed and laid back into your pillow, staring up into the ceiling. "I can't believe I am even having these types of thoughts," you slowly opened your legs while shutting your eyes. As long as you don't think about him, it'll be okay.
But you do. Sliding off your underwear, the first thing you thought about was Jungkook. His bunny smile rested on his face. You opened your eyes to get him off your mind and closed them again. You let out a gentle moan when you feel how wet you are.
He came back again. This time he settled right besides you on the bed. His hand is shoved between your legs. You moaned when he buried his head in your neck and kissed your skin there. "You like that, princess?"
You frowned immediately, he didn't call you any pet names. From what you can remember, he called you a degrading name.
"You like that dirty slut?" you mewled at him. He moved his fingers ceaselessly inside of you whilst breathing down your neck.
The sound of a zipper being undone makes your eyes crack open. You took a glimpse of Jungkook, his hand disappearing inside his jeans that displayed his muscular thighs.
You whined at him and he hovered on top of you. Your breathing got heavier as his cock sprung out of his jeans. "Oh god," you moaned as he slid himself inside of you so effortlessly. Your hands moved quicker inside of you. Feeling your wetness spill out of you and onto the mattress underneath you, you imagined him pounding into you. Your hands clamped on his long hair with your legs in the air as his hips furiously snapping into you.
It doesn't take you long to cum, given the fact at Jungkook's pace it seemed like he wasn't going to stop. He disappeared, leaving you sweaty and tired on the bed with your fingers stuck inside you. "Holy shit, I can not believe I just did that.
Recalling your words that were thrown at Jungkook, a heavy weight on your shoulder returned heavier as ever, reminding you how you practically lost your shot with him.
Shame on you for not giving Jeon Jungkook a chance.
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"I think I was too harsh on him."
"You think? Don't lie to me bitch, you know you were fucking harsh on him," Hayoon stood in the middle of your room, scanning your closet for a dress she can wear to a party.
It was almost three days since your argument with Jungkook in front of everyone. You expected to make up with him on Thursday but Jungkook avoided you like you were the plague. He didn't text you for any notes he needed to borrow, nor did he usually come to study with you or leave you a sandwich. You never realized how apart of your life he became, especially when he didn't sit next to you for one of your shared classes. Instead, he chose to sit next to Taehyung, his best friend. It was Friday now and to be quite honest, you missed him.
"Don't trip about it. He could be at the party tonight, getting over you and possibly getting himself a girlfriend so you don't have to worry about him pinning over you. Now what the fuck should I wear?"
You didn't like the sound of that. Jungkook possibly finding another girl. Your consciousness settled back in your mind. How can you even say shit like that? You rejected him, you have no right to tell him not to move on. You sighed to yourself and laid back into the bed. "Maybe I shouldn't go. I don't wanna see him."
"I don't wanna see him." she dragged the straps of your orange dress up her figure. "Shut up because on Wednesday you kept asking why he wouldn't talk to you, like bitch I wouldn't talk to you either with that shit you pulled back there."
"Why not?"
"You're not serious right?" she turned back to you. She raised her eyebrow, challenging you. You groaned and followed her out of the room when she didn't receive an answer. "That's what I thought," you heard her under her breath.
"Not gonna lie, I think I'm gonna break my ankle with these bitches," you pointed down at your high heels, slowing down. You stopped to fix them. Hayoon carried on walking to her car, leaving you behind.
"You wanted to wear them. Now get in," she honked her horn. You hissed at her, reminding her that the neighbors are going to complain. "Don't give a fuck, get in loser we're going to party!" she honked her horn longer.
You ran to her car when you realized she wasn't going to stop. "You need the swear jar, you stupid bitch."
"Not even," before you could say something back, her music blasts through the car. She screamed out the lyrics, encouraging you to join along. "In your eyes! You lie but I don't let it define you—oh define you!"
"You sound like a dying cat."
"I tried to find—fuck you then."
Along the way you started to wonder how she even got her driver's license. Hayoon almost went on the sidewalk when she was tried to park which forced you to get out of the car and direct her.
"Keep going, keep going."
"Fuck, bitch you sure? I don't want another ticket for being on the red line," her head stuck out to make sure she wasn't going to hit the car behind her.
"Yes I'm sure—okay stop!" Hayoon shuts off the engine, stumbling out of the car. She laughed to herself before walking up to the fraternity house with you. "Okay, I forgot what it was like coming here."
The first smell that filled your nostrils was vomit. You glanced down towards the ground and saw a distraught girl on the front lawn throwing up while her friend rubbed her back. Hayoon advised you not to look, to give the poor girl some pity. Reluctantly, you entered the house with a clumsy walk. Hayoon noticed and suggested that you go have a drink. You at first declined but once your eyes scanned the room and landed on Jungkook leaning against a wall with a redhead clinging onto him. You made your way to the open kitchen. Unknown to you, jealousy boiled in your stomach.
So that's how you end up on your first shot of a tequila with a cup of vodka already resting in your liver. You weren't drunk, still you were not far from being tipsy. Conscious enough to see that Jungkook's eyes were on you while you downed the shot. Eyes focused on your throat as you swallowed. He exhaled, watching you pull out your phone and tap away. The red head girl right besides him, tried calling his name out to hook his attention. He brushed her off, muttering something to her that he didn't sleep around anymore.
His frustration grew even more when he saw you wandering over to the middle of the room where sweaty bodies were grinding on each other. Your flimsy black silky dress was not doing him justice either, seeing how tight it was on your figure. It showed off your curves well; he hated how good you looked. There was a big opening in the back that stopped near your hips. Should be a crime to look that good, he thought to himself while trying to keep his eyes on you.
Your hips swayed to the music blasting throughout the house. You opened your eyes, landing on Jungkook immediately. His eyes devouring you as he took a sip of his beer, eyes locked on your hips. You tried not to look at him again but still wondered what was going in that mind of his. You raised your hands up in the air, dress threatening to rise up.
Your curiosity got the best of you. Squinting one eye open to take a peek of Jungkook but you failed to locate him.
A gasp left your mouth as someone pressed their front on your back, rubbing their crotch on your ass. A whiff of the sweet scented Victoria Secret perfume gave the identity away. You tilted your head so that it laid on his chest. Confirming your thought, Jungkook stared down at you with dark eyes. His arm muffled around your waist to press you further into his chest. He felt his body go ease when he saw your lips bunch up into a smile. Your hips rocked from side to side on him. Jungkook held his hand on your waist, encouraging you to continue. You willingly do so arms flinging on his neck as you dragged yourself down his chest. His growing bulge poked your ass as you grind yourself on him. Your head laid back on him. Jungkook leaned down to meet your lips. His mouth entwined with yours, lip gloss rubbing off onto his mouth. You moaned into his mouth and sensed that his hand was harshly holding one of your ass cheeks.
"You wanna go upstairs?" He was somewhat taken back at your suggestion but agreed nonetheless. With his fingers keeping a firm grip on yours, the two of you went upstairs.
He guided you towards the room, which all winded up preoccupied due to freshman trying to lose their virginities. You cringed when you come face to face with someone's bare ass pushing against the lanky girl. Jungkook pushed you into the bathroom, telling a man to fuck off when he tried getting in.
"Hey," you glanced up from the floor onto Jungkook's eyes. He offered you a small awkward smile, warming your heart as if he wasn't rubbing his dick on your ass a few minutes ago.
"Hi," your voice sounded very small and Jungkook wanted to reach out and reassure you that he only came up to you to apologize, not to have you grind on him in the middle of the room. "I'm sorry," you began, eyes fixed to the ground. "Everything I said on that day was really fucked up. I care about your feelings. I care about you and I was giving you mixed signals and it's not okay."
"I'll be fine," his hand held your arm, rubbing it slightly. "It's okay if you don't return my feelings, I'll get over it—"
"But that's the thing I don't want you to get over it."
Jungkook blinked once, twice, and then another third time. Trying to comprehend your words while also trying to figure out what he was going to say was hard.
Your glossy lips moved. "I'm really willing to give you a chance and I'm so sorry for being such a cunt about it. I just—I needed some realization to understand my feelings. Truth is I've had a crush on you, but every time I saw you with these girls I always told myself I'm not good enough for you and that I'll never be. I’m also mad at the fact that you’re barely realizing your feelings towards me just now.”
He doesn't say anything which doesn't help your anxious state at the moment. Your gut scolded you, reminding you that you probably lost your chance and now you look like an idiot to him right now, confessing your feelings.
Jungkook sighed before embracing you. You stand still in shock from his sudden movements but chose to hug him back. His chin dropped down onto your head. "You're good enough for me, Y/N. You always have been and I'm sorry that it took me all these years for me to realize that."
"I couldn't stop thinking of you and all the shit I said. I'm really sorry from the bottom of my heart," you admitted.
His bulge pushed against you and your cheeks flushed warm. Jungkook didn't say anything but bent down to kiss you. His lips moved roughly against yours. Your fingers coming up towards his hair to run through them. His hands digging harshly into your ass, possibly leaving small bruises behind but you're unbothered by it.
You pulled away, enough to stare up at his eyes. "I seriously couldn't stop thinking about you. I fucking masturbated to you, just by thinking of the bus shit," you confessed, watching his face lit up in surprise.
"Yeah? What was going on in that head of yours?" he encouraged you. You giggled at him, his thigh coming between your thighs.
"Your fingers in my pussy," your cheeks burned pink as he coaxed you to go on. "Your big dick pounding in me."
The look on his face is priceless but it just stayed there for a mere second as Jungkook recollected himself. He couldn't believe what was coming out of your mouth, never in a million years would he ever imagine you of all people saying this. The warmth travelled towards his crotch as he hardened at your words. His friend of seven years, his crush for almost two years was here in front of him, revealing that she touched herself to the thought of him. A blissful comfort spread all over his body.
"Don't you want that to happen?" he didn't even realize how close you were, he was too caught up in his thoughts. "You don't want to fuck my brains out?"
Your thighs closed around his thick ones. You reached up to kiss his neck, pecking his soft skin. Jungkook grunted as you left open mouth kisses behind, gripping his hand and directing it near your hips.
"I can't do it here," Jungkook whispered to you once he grasped the circumstances. In a fraternity bathroom with people out there that can possibly hear you two? Jungkook would never allow himself to touch you here the first time you two have sex. You whined against him, rubbing your crotch on his thigh. "Shit, seriously Y/N? You're making this hard for me."
"What your dick? Why? I don't care where we do it. I just—I need it to happen—come on Jungkook fuck me," if your mind wasn't clouded by lust you would been very disappointed at yourself for what you were saying, but you could care less. He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the ceiling. He was fighting with himself.
The only sound in the bathroom was the loud heavy bass music playing and the two of you heavily breathing. "Do you want me to go find another guy out there that can do the job for you or what?" you tried riling him up and it worked cause Jungkook was staring at you with dark hooded eyes. "Cause' I could walk out there and take any guy home with me do you want that?" you both know deep down you wouldn’t be able to do that. You’re too shy.
Jungkook came across as if something possessed him suddenly. His hair falling over his eyes slightly. His tongue came out of his mouth to moisten his lips. "Get on your fucking knees," Jungkook snapped, a hand going back to get tangled in your hair. You dropped down to the ground. "I wanna see your pretty tits," you pulled down the straps of your dress and got rid of your strapless bra, throwing it aside. "Well aren't you a desperate cock sucking whore?" you whined at him with your dress bunched up around your waist. "What don't tell me you like being called that?" he chuckled. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation.
You reached over to unzip his jeans. He merely let out a chuckle, extremely satisfied with your avidity. As you rolled down his boxers, his hand wrapped around your hair. "Look up at me, whore," your eyes jerked up to him. "Open your mouth," you gulped at the size, wondering if it was even going to fit in your poor mouth. He teased, rubbing the head of his cock on your lips when you did. Your jaw ached as you tried opening as wide as you can to please him. You looked up at him as he slid his cock in your mouth. He groaned, loving the warmth and wetness of your mouth surrounding him. He maintained the eye contact between you two whilst he carried on shoving his dick in your throat. You moaned and moved back once it hit your throat. But before you can, he gripped the back of your hair firmly and thrusted his hips forward. You gagged around him, tears brewing and ready to burst out. You extended your hands out to his thighs. He held your head in place, his cock shoving down your throat at an animalistic speed. "What a good little slut," he eventually praised you. "Letting me fuck her throat hard and shit," you shut your eyes.
You regret doing so. Feeling a tug to your hair, your eyes snap open and look up. "You get praised like a good bitch once and you think you can be a bad girl? I don't think so, whore," he stared straight into your eyes with his dark orbs devouring you. Your drool slithering down your chin. You peer up at him with desperation written all over your face. Your fingers glided down to your dress. You kept your gaze on him when your fingers entered your pussy, feeling how wet you are. "Are you seriously touching yourself?" he sounded thrilled at the idea. Jungkook stopped moving for a second, allowing you to suck on the head of his cock. He watched mascara run down your cheeks, feeling some sort of ego boost that he was making you look this way.
You nodded frantically, moving your fingers faster. You sucked him harder, your jaw throbbing as you attempted to deep throat him. He forced your head deeper so that your nose was touching his pubic hair. "I didn't give you permission, disobedient slut. You got three seconds to finish," he finished with a sullen laugh, knowing you weren't. "One, two–" Jungkook watched your eyes become watery as you hopelessly tried to get yourself to cum in just three seconds. "—three, take your fingers out whore."
You obeyed and showed him your fingers, glittering under the bathroom light, even though on the inside you were begging to be touched again. You thought of going against him. Jungkook let a cackle escape from his mouth. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet I bet you're fucking leaking out onto the floor."
You mewled, bobbing your head up and down. Releasing his cock out of your mouth with a lewd pop, you batted your eyelashes up at him. "I'm so fucking wet for you," he flashed you a quick grin, obviously content with your answer. He brought your fingers up to his mouth, sucking them off while maintaining eye contact with you. His tongue swirled around your finger as you repeat the same motion on his cock. He released your finger.
"You can use your hands," you pull away right after he said that. You pumped him rapidly, your hand moving back and forth. Your ears took in his grunts, feeling some pride for causing him to make those noises. He almost came when he felt your warm, wet mouth around one of his balls.
"I want you to cum on my tits." he agreed, staring down at you. Tension builds within his stomach as he groaned out loud. You gaped at him when his cum shoots towards your neck, aiming towards your breasts.
Jungkook's breathing became heavier as he came back down from his blissful state that he was in. He grew hard in a instant when he saw how fucked you looked. Your mascara running down your eyes, leaving a trail of black ink behind. Your hair was tangled together into a mess due to him gripping it so tightly. With saliva dripping down your red swollen smeared lips, his eyes drifted further down. The straps of the dress you were wearing were rolled out into your stomach, exhibiting your perky breasts that are smeared with his cum.
"You look like a fucked whore," he smiled at you with satisfaction resting in his mind.
You giggled at him, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah, not just for you," you gazed up at him, a small smile on your lips.
He helped you get off the floor. His facial expression is now serious, indicating that he wasn't happy with your answer. Jungkook's fingers tapped the cold surface of the sink, indicating to sit down on it. You do so, opening your legs slowly.
He watched, eyes strictly locked in between your legs. "Who are you so wet for?" he asked.
You snorted and shrugged which only grew him more frustrated.
Jungkook growled and flipped you over. He bended you over the bathroom sink and bore his eyes into you by the mirror. "You wanna keep acting like a slut, you're might as well be fucked like one," you silently squealed in excitement. Jungkook lifted your dress up in one go. He pulled your underwear down, making you step out of them. "Put your leg on the counter," he commanded and you do as you're told. Lifting your right leg on the counter while the other one remained on the ground. You heard him frantically pull down his jeans. You gasped when you feel the tip on your entrance. He reached over for the condom on the counter.
"No!" you exclaimed. Jungkook stopped and looked down at your worriedly, wondering if you wanted to stop now. You gulped, feeling your cheeks burned in embarrassment. "Don't use one please." you whined. "I want to feel you raw."
You heard Jungkook chuckle from behind you. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he was fucking thriving. "Yeah? My fucking slut wants me to do her raw?" he started pushing himself. You held your breath as your walls allowed him to enter, tightening around his big shaft. His cock rimmed inside of you
"Y-yeah," you manage to choke out, staring at him through the mirror. He maintained eye contact to where your bodies connected, watching his cock sink into you as he held your hips in place. 
"Has any other guy fucked you raw, slut?" Jungkook brought his hand around your throat. You sensed that you could orgasm right there. You shook your head as he finally is inside of you fully. "What was that? Use your words, come on you're a big girl," he gripped your inner right thigh with so much strength, he could break it off if he tried. I mean those biceps.
"N-no only you. Just for you," he grinned at that.
"Good," you let out a loud moan when he started finally moving. His hips rutted into yours at an animalistic speed. He stared at you through the mirror, watching how your mouth opens and your breasts jiggle. He pressed your throat a little harder. "Bet no guy ever made you feel this way."
"Only you, Jungkook! Only you!" you manage to breath out. Your knuckles are almost white by how hard you're holding onto the counter. He lowers himself so his face is near your ear.
"Yeah? Look at you, telling me how I'll never have you yet you're over here drooling over my dick. Fucking whore." you whined harder as he breathed down your neck. You feel yourself began getting more wetter at his words. "Imagine what your family and friends will say when they find out you're letting me fuck you in the ass in a dirty bathroom at a frat party."
You shut your eyes, your pussy swallowing him back in. His hand squeezed your throat a little tighter. "Fucking slut," he snapped his hips at you. You moaned out loud, shamelessly. "On the dance floor dancing like one."
"Because I am one," he chuckled at that, fingers coming up to pinch your nipple.
"Yeah? Who do you belong to? Whose slut are you?" the grip on your throat tightened, not enough to block your airway however. Jungkook kept his eye on you through the mirror, your lips molding into an oval shape. His palm came down to meet one of your asscheeks. You jumped forward, Jungkook pulling you back onto his cock. He stopped moving to lock eyes with you through the mirror, his lips hovering over your ear. "When I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer," you tried to move your hips a bit but he caught you before you can. "Now," his voice deepened. "Whose slut are you?"
"Your slut! I'm your slut! Jungkook, please—"
"Yeah? Scream when I fuck you so that everyone knows who your pussy belongs to," his hips rammed into you again. You swore you can feel him fucking into your cervix. You let a loud moan break free from your mouth, his hot breath fanned your ear.
A roaring pounding on the door snapped his head away. You whimpered and become aware that his pace was reducing as his attention was now on the other man trying to get in. Jungkook yelled out words that sounded fuzzy to your ears considering all you could hear is your heartbeat.
"No, no, Jungkook don't stop," you pleaded with him, twisting yourself to look at his lust filled eyes. "I'm almost there please!"
You almost screamed at him when he pulled out. He sat on the toilet lid, tapping his thighs that were spread out in front of him. "Ride me," he demanded. You're somehow quick on your wobbly legs, getting on top of him. You grasped his swollen red cock, lining it up with your entrance before sinking down.
Jungkook's hand went towards your hip to support you while the other one went further down to touch your swollen clit. His mouth came near your ear as you cried out his name. "If you don't come in the next minute, you're not cumming tonight, got it slut?" you panted but nonetheless nodded frantically.
And with that Jungkook sat back, watching you fuck yourself on his cock, you were basically using him as a toy and Jungkook loved that. The desperation look on your face was amusing and Jungkook stored in in his memories.
"Oh shit! Fuck I'm almost there," his palm travelled further down to rub your ass.
"Time's almost up," he wasn't actually keeping track but your determination to cum on such a short amount of time was adorable to him. Your thighs smacked his, bouncing on his cock faster. Jungkook's finger carried on rubbing against your clit, his eyes trailing down from your face to your bouncing breasts.
Your eyes rolled back as you heaved up. Your mouth opened wide, feeling your orgasm wash over you. Jungkook heard his name leave your mouth, panting. He almost came when he felt something warm soak into his jeans. Looking down, he became aware of what just happened.
"Fucking dirty slut," he hissed and allowed you to relax your head on his shoulder as your whole weight sunk down on him. His ears took in your sniffles. "Look what you did, squirted all over me slut."
Your cheeks burned in humiliation, nuzzling your nose into his shoulder.
You gasped when he lifted his hips up to meet yours. You cried out to him to stop but Jungkook's quick to silence you with his fingers stuffed in your mouth. Your tears threatened to spill. "You're so tight, fuck! Need to fuck you more, whore,"
It doesn't take long for him to sprout into you, judging the way you tightened around him and how fucked your face look when he looked down to meet your eyes. With his cum coating your walls, he slid out of you. A bit of cum came out and dropped down to his black pants leaving a white stain behind.
You attempted to stand out on your own but failed due to you not being able to feel your legs for a second. Luckily, Jungkook is there to help you. He bent down to help you put on your underwear.
"Are you on birth control?" he asked while zipping up his pants. You checked your face in the mirror, noticing the hickeys all over your neck and the mascara smothered down your cheeks.
You turned to look at him, pulling your dress down."Are you really asking me after we just had sex? Where's my bra by the way?" your face is met with your bra when he flung it at you.
He laughed, watching you put it on. "Yeah, seriously though are you?"
"Why? If I'm going to be your sugar mama I might as well be your baby mama." Jungkook looked stricken and you snickered, bringing your hand up to hide your mouth. "I'm joking," you wiped your face with some wet wipes you found in the drawers.
"Not funny, was ready to fucking make a run for it."
It was your turn to look stricken as Jungkook laughed. You frowned and slapped his chest.
It goes quiet, the loud bass music now coming back to fill your ears instead of Jungkook's moans. He stood awkwardly near the corner while you threw away the wipes you used to remove your makeup. Running your fingers through your hair, you turned towards him.
"So, does this mean that you're going to give me a chance?" the man in front of you standing like an anime character asked, as if he wasn't calling you degrading names a few minutes ago.
You smiled at him and lunged forward to kiss him. "Yes, I'll give you a chance Jungkook."
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↳ in your heart; drabble collection
8K notes · View notes
sushireads · a year ago
jungkook fic recs
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this is a list of jungkook fics i’ve read and loved very much! enjoy. <3
ps. all fics with 🍙 are the ones i loved a little bit more.
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2! 3! by @gimmesumsuga
smut, fluff | one shot | 3K words
The one at the end of Jungkook’s Wembley Vlive.
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a dangerous game by @goldngguk​ 
horror | series
You were in love with him. Jeon Jeongguk was everything you’d ever dreamed of and more. He was wealthy, kind, gentle, and most importantly, he loved you dearly. You knew he would always be there for you to guide you and protect you. You’d been together for just over a year and knew he had made plans to propose to you. But you found it strange that he had never brought you home to meet his parents.
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About Time by @yoonia
ON-GOING | 🍙, angst | series
Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?
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fluff, crack, smut | one shot | 3.6K words
you tell santa exactly what you want for christmas.
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Amour by @taesthetes
fluff, fantasy | one shot | 6.1K words
{{ noun // a love affair, usually secret; a lover }}
To love would be committing the greatest sin.
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aurora. by @krreader​​
angst, fluff | one shot | 6K+ words
dawn comes after the darkness, and with it the promise that what has been torn by the sea is not lost. - lisa wingate 
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baecation by @1kook
smut, fluff | one shot | 5.9K words
“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.
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banana milk by @kimnjss
smut | one shot | 6.7K words
sent to the grocery store in the middle of the day, you’d never believe who you ran into in the milk aisle.
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bandslam by @ironicarmy​​
angst, smut | series
Cocky drummer Jeon Jungkook has never been the type to hate on anyone. But when his best friend Taehyung unexpectedly leaves the band and leaves you in his place, he can’t really blame himself when he acts with disdain towards you. Not even when there’s a prize at stake.
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Be Mine by @staerrylights
angst, fluff, smut | one shot | 5.5K words
When the worlds of a campus’ star player and ordinary girl collide, sparks will fly.
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Bells by @taetaesbaebaepsae
fluff | one shot | 1.6K words
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bitchin’ by @kinktae
🍙, fluff, angst, smut | series
The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.
—part of the rewind series
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black card by @minsprings
🍙, fluff, smut | two shots
a long night at another one of your obligatory high society functions has you desperate to relieve some stress with your husband jungkook, who’s been apparently hiding a kink from you for some time.
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Blackjack by @kpopfanfictrash
smut | series
Bangtan is one of the most vicious mafias on the west coast. Only six members are known by name though, with a mysterious seventh member dubbed only as ‘the shadow.’ When you become indebted to the worst of the worst – how, exactly can you find a way out?
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caught me. by @jeongi
smut | one shot | 13.5K words
you hate your temporary roommate, jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.
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Crybaby by @lavishedinjimin​​
smut | two shots
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dangerous love by @seulgiology
smut, light fluff | one shot | 3.7K words
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Departure by @nomnomsik
smut, fluff | one shot | 6.2K words
As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.
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Dumbo by @cinnaminsvga​
humor, smut | one shot | 17.2K words
you know what they say about boys with big noses…
{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}
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Dynasty by @jimlingss​
angst, smut, fluff | one shot | 17.4K words
It’s no secret that the Emperor is infertile. But even so, a girl is selected every three months and brought to become his concubine in hopes of conceiving the next heir. This time, it’s you. And in order to prevent execution, Jeon Jungkook might just aid you in conception.
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Euphoria by @seokstrivia
fluff, smut, angst | one shot | 7.6K words
There was always a sign on Jungkooks’ door that said something along the lines of, ‘Warning; I am naked in here. Do not enter unless you’re ready to see a whole lot of dick.’  
or, that one roommate au where Jungkook is a cocky bastard.
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fatal attraction by @jungcock
ON-GOING | 🍙, angst, smut | series
Your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one.
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first time together by @httpjeon
fluff, smut, angst | one shot | 8.4K words
you never thought you’d fall for the charms of jeon jungkook, the campus heartthrob, play boy, and fuck boy.
—part of the together series
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flesh and blood by @kinktae
fluff, smut | series
You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren’t always required when it comes to love.
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For science by @boymeetsweevil
fluff, smut | series 
Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.
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Game Over by @gukgalore
smut, fluff | one shot | 5K words
You try your hand at a certain TikTok trend using your boyfriend.
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Head in the Clouds by @taequois​​
one shot | 3.7K words
You were the third wheel for your best friend’s date but why was Jeon Jungkook kissing you instead? 
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Hellblazer by @jungkookiebus
smut, fantasy | series
“Few people really think about dying… paranoids worry about it without really understanding it. Victims of fatal accidents and murder don’t have time to think. You only really think about it if you take the time to. And you only take the time if you know it’s going to happen.” -John Constantine, Dangerous Habits Pt. 1: The Beginning of the End, Issue #41.
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HIDDEN STARS by @jungblue
angst, smut | series
It started out simple, but when your feelings start to grow for the idol who isn’t allowed to date, things get complicated.
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Hiraeth by @darlingwoes
smut, angst, fluff | series
Hiraeth: A longing for a home you can’t return to, or that never was.
It was confusing, the whole ordeal was. But no matter how many times you told yourself to go back, he was always there, taunting you to stay.
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His Name by @jimlingss
🍙, angst | series
Jeon Jungkook is a puzzle with too many missing pieces from his past and too many sides. Somehow, it’s become your job to solve him.
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i wish i missed my ex by @angelguk
smut, fluff, angst | one shot | 18K words
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It Ain’t Me by @inferno-loop​​
angst | series
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industrial by @taendrils​
fluff, smut | one shot | 8.1K words
❝there are lines you shouldn’t cross, things you shouldn’t touch and skin you shouldn’t mark when your hands are missing your gloves.❞
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Jeon Jungkook Must Die by @tayegi
smut | one shot | 14K words
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Jungkook is Typing... by @glassbangtan
mild smut, angst, fluff | one shot | 21.1K words
You and Jungkook met online when you were only fourteen years old. Neither of you thought meeting up would be a possibility, until you’re hired as Big Hit’s new editor.
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Killjoy by @taequois​​
smut | one shot | 9.3K words
You thought you’re trapped in the lion’s den when Jungkook kidnaps you. But he’s no lion and unfortunately for him, you weren’t a mouse either.
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Laundry Fairy by @bulletproofbirdy
fluff, smut | one shot | 3.5K words
You wake on Saturday to find that your boyfriend has cleaned your apartment and done your laundry–shenanigans ensue with the help of the spin cycle.
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love alive by @jamaisjoons
angst, fluff, smut | one shot | 17K words
a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.
—part of the mixtape series
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Making of a lover by @smileyoongle​
angst | one shot | 2.4K words
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mask by @onherwings
🍙, angst, fluff, smut | one shot | 32.1K words
Perhaps you signed up for more than you expected when you agreed to pretend you were just Jungkook’s roommate when his (female) childhood friend comes to visit.
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mastur-bait by @kookswife​​
🍙, smut, fluff, humor | two shots
you drunkenly touch yourself in front of your neighbour, hoping he’ll take notice. you can’t help but do a double take when he actually does.
—part of The Connotation trilogy
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Meeting their soulmate for the first time by @sunyoonandstars
🍙, fluff | one shot | 2.1K words
Jungkook is driven by the desire to, one day, meet his soulmate. However, he had not imagined it to happen so soon …
“Jungkook’s eyes met yours only for a brief moment. Still, this split second was all it took to send a surge of thrilling heat through his entire body, the intensity of your gaze leaving every last fiber of his being vibrating and his veins tingling with what felt like a million of tiny electric shocks. He could have sworn his heart literally skipped a beat. Or two. At least. Because those eyes weren’t just any eyes. They were the eyes. The eyes which had been haunting his dreams …”
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melomaniac. by @jeonscript
smut | one shot | 13K words
you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because he’s supposed to be your best friend and nothing more. worst part of it all is that you know he’s in love with you too.
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Mind in the Gutter by @kpopfanfictrash
smut, fluff, humor | one shot | 18K words
Starting over is never fun. Especially not when you decide to take the phrase fully to heart; new job, new city, new coworkers and new relationships. When you are dragged to a happy hour by your new co-worker, Taehyung, you end up sitting beside a (very) cute, (very) shy IT worker named Jungkook. Several drinks later, he mentions he is in a professional bowling league with his friends and you rather enthusiastically invite yourself along. As time passes and you begin to grow closer, you still find it impossible to read Jungkook. Working in the same company and seeing each other so often, it is only so long before one of you snaps. But who?
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more than friends by @matchakoo​
smut, angst, tiny fluff | two shots
you and jungkook have been roommates and close friends for a couple years, and you’re oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he hates your recent fuck-buddy is because he has the fattest crush on you.
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morning rush. by @atdawnsuga
smut | one shot | 3.2K words
You develop a strange relationship with the boy you share your morning commute with.  
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Movin’ by @mygsii
smut | one shot | 3.9K words
you’re moving to a new place and have called up some movers to help. you didn’t expect to find one of them extremely attractive, nor did you expect to have him all over you as soon as break time rolled around.
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Mutual by @seokjxnnie​​
smut | one shot | 2.7K words
Your boss was always talking about how her son would be perfect for you, promising that he was going to the staff holiday party. He turned out to be the hook up that happened a couple months ago, who you kept around for some good dick.
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My Type by @shadowsremedy​​
smut | one shot | 6K words
Never judge a book by its cover.
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neighbour by @imagniation​​
fluff, smut | one shot | 4K words
‘you think I can afford a plumber?’ your endearing neighbour jeongguk has magic hands that fix toilets and make you orgasm.
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one thing right by @hobios
🍙, fluff, angst, smut | series
“i’ve been wrong about a million times, but i’ve got one thing right.”
or, desperate to get your ailing mother into the best care possible, you ask your childhood friend turned enemy to marry you for his health insurance benefits. the only problem is it’s illegal. and he’s the sheriff. and you swore to hate him since the day he broke your best friend’s heart.
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One Year, My Love by @hayjeon
🍙, angst, fluff, smut | two shots 
You forge a marriage contract with the strangely speaking man who suddenly stumbled into your town with memory loss, but little do you know that he’s actually the lost Crown Prince, and a lot can happen between a married man and woman in one year.
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Orange Tulips by @kainks
angst, fluff, light smut | one shot | 10.2K words
You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time.
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Pay by Play by @yoonia
smut | one shot | 3.6K words
—part of @bangtansmutcentral‘s Made With Love Project
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Pen Pal by @chinkbihh
angst | series
As a lonely person, the idea of exchanging letters with someone apart from society was actually quite appealing to you.  In a random act of charity and desperation, you sign up for a pen pal and get paired up with an inmate named Jungkook.  The letters were meant to help him cope with prison life, but little did anyone know it was actually driving him more mad.  
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Piss Off Your Parents by @littlemisskookie
smut | one shot | 16.4K words
In an effort to piss off your parents you move in with their worst nightmare- a boy with tattoos, a rock band, and an irresistible charm.
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Play Pretend by @seokoloqy
smut, angst | one shot | 8.6K words
walking under ladders, splitting the pole, breaking mirrors, going near black cats—just to name a few things Jeon Jungkook doesn’t do before his soccer games.
And after Jungkook catches his girlfriend cheating on him, he’s going to need a little more than luck to get her back. He needs you.
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Quarter Quell by @chinkbihh
ON-GOING | 🍙 | series
Every 25 years there is a Quarter Quell edition of the Hunger Games. Quells mark the anniversaries of the districts’ defeat by the Capitol, and include special celebrations. The Games involves some sort of twist that makes them even more disastrous or difficult to compete in, or watch.
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Redolent by @baeseoul
ON-GOING | angst, smut | series
You and Jungkook have a past, but the biggest mistake of his life has him losing you in every way. It isn’t until the smell of the unique combination of vanilla and pear blossom for the first time in over a year reminds him of you and your endearing candle obsession that he’s forced to reminisce about what he had, and what he lost. He wants to reconcile, but what if you’re doing just fine without him?
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Rigor Mortis by @readyplayerhobi
smut, angst, horror, fluff | one shot | 28.5K words
A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
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ROTTENFOLK by @junqkook
🍙, smut, fantasy | one shot (in dire need of a part two though!!!) | 13.5K words
a look was as hazardous as chemicals, a kiss as perilous as poison; his eyes and lips felt akin to a cure, but he was purely venom.
—part of BTS Smut Club’s The Heatwave Project
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roulette. by @taesthetes
light fluff, angst | one shot | 1.2K words
noun : a gambling game of chance.
he loves me, click, he loves me not, bang.
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Ruin the Dress... Shirt by @fortunexkookie
smut, fluff | one shot | 4.8K words
What could possibly go wrong during a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner with your brand new boyfriend? Let’s be honest, you shouldn’t have even asked.
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Scum’s Wish by @bobagukk
angst, smut | one shot | 4.8K words
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Secret Slut by @jeonsweetpea
🍙, smut | two shots
Jungkook accidentally gifts you, his boss, a sex toy for Secret Santa.
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skype sex by @floralseokjin​​
smut, fluff | one shot | 2.9K words
—part of the first love, last love drabble series
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Somnolent by @forgottenpasta
fluff | one shot | 3.5K words
After spending one night in bed with you, Jeongguk finds out he is unable to sleep unless you’re sleeping with him.
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Sprout by @hugseoks
fluff, crack | one shot | 1.2K words
After a nice evening out with your friends, you find yourself coming home to your sleeping toddler and the new hairstyle she had tried on your husband.
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stand-in by @gvksp4ce
angst, smut, fluff | one shot | 10K words
frat parties always suck to a certain degree, especially when you walk in on your best friend’s partner nailing your own boyfriend on said buddy’s bed. However, drowning in self-pity was not on Jeon’s watch.
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strawberry lips by @personasintro
fluff | drabble | 2.8K words
it’s not your fault your professor is extremely young and oh, so hot
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Summer Solstice by @brokenspinez​​
smut | one shot | 6K words
Down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. You figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. But one fateful night, your prayers are answered. Are you willing to pay the price? The sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….
GOD au
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Tangsuyuk Love by @full-of-jams​​
fluff, smut | one shot | 11.5K words
College student Jungkook flirts with a customer who always orders take-out tangsuyuk at his part-time job. Meanwhile he’s miserably trying not to fail his Math class, while hiding his ever-growing crush on you.
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tell me no lies by @jeongi
angst, smut, minimal fluff | one shot | 15.1K words
You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.
—part of BTS Smut Club's Under Fire Summer Project
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the beast hidden inside by @harvcore​​
smut | one shot | 1.5K words
never come home smelling like another man, especially when it’s mating season.
or 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚, 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐬…
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the best part of me is you by @yourdelights
fluff, smut, angst | one shot | 9K words
Having been best friends since childhood, you’re an expert in all things Jungkook. You know everything about him, from how he took his coffee to the sound of his laugh after a successful prank. There was no part of him that you didn’t know like the back of your hand, or so you thought. Your view on things gets a bit skewed after discovering the one secret Jungkook had kept from you: he’s a camboy.
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the coffee shop contract by @gukyi
fluff | one shot | 18K words
apparently, having an instagram profile with a different girl in every picture is reason enough for your friends to strike up a deal where they’ll pay you to have a relationship. well, jeon jungkook’s no good at relationships, but a fake relationship isn’t a real relationship. is it?
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the engagement by @virgoknj
angst | drabble | 3.4K words
in where your ex jungkook appears at your engagement party
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the jeon twins by @krreader
fluff, angst | one shot | 3.2K words
jk thought he was doing this for his twin’s good. falling in love with you while pretending to be kookie was never something he planned on doing and he hated himself for it.
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The Jorts by @gukslut​
fluff, smut | one shot | 6.5K words
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the sea & the storm by @jamaisjoons
angst, fluff, smut | one shot | 20K words
the sea is a powerful mistress. she is calm and beautiful. she is mysterious and alluring. she is a force to be reckoned with. above all, however, she is lonely. until she meets him.
—part of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls collaboration
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the train of lost souls by @inktae
angst, fantasy, fluff | one shot | 13.6K words
The moment you step inside the train, you are given two options.
You can choose to live, to be given a second and a last chance in life, in exchange for your memories and your previous existence. You can choose to be alive again, but it can only be an entirely new life. Everyone you’ve ever crossed paths with would forget your name. All the pain and the love you knew, all the ups and downs that made you hurt and made you smile — all of it, completely gone.
Or you can choose to move on, to give your life away while keeping your memories until the end of time. To step out of the world of the living and to embrace a new kind of loneliness, but with the warmth of your past always safe between your cold hands.
You are dead, but it’s up to you to do something about it.
The choice is solely yours.
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The Truth About Forever by @thedefinitionofbts
romance, implied smut, angst | one shot | 6.3K words
There are a lot of things you know. You knew the water in the lake was the clearest, most fresh tasting in the world and that lavender hyacinth graced every hillside, peeking through patches of wild grass and forest green shrubbery. You knew the weather was pleasant enough and the air clean enough even for someone with a body as weak as yours to sleep peacefully under clear moonlit nights. You know a lot of things, but there was one thing you didn’t know…  
“Jungkook and Y/N forever…” Seokjin reads the little inscription on the corner. “Hey, this person even has the same name as you, how weird.”
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the universe of us. by @taesthetes
🍙, fluff, angst, fantasy | one shot | 21.1K words
nefelibata : (noun) lit. “cloud-walker”; the one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams
The story of Icarus tells of a naive being who loved the sun and flew too close, leading to his untimely descent into the ocean. But what the tale didn’t speak of was how the sun and the moon fell in love with him, too. And with the pull of the tides due to the attraction of the sun and the moon, he tosses and turns, torn between two entities.
So if Kim Taehyung embodies the sun, then Jeon Jungkook is the moon.
And you are Icarus.
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The Virgin Volume by @kpopfanfictrash​
smut, angst | two shots
The year? Some point after college. The occasion? Namjoon is getting married and the Rich Man’s Crochet Club has convened once again. Somewhere between the drinks and the laughter, everyone has the same realization: Jungkook has never been in a serious relationship. In the name of all that is holy (Overwatch and booze), the club’s mission is revived. Now though, their goal is much more perilous. Now, they aim to find Jeon Jungkook a girlfriend.
—part of The Rich Man’s Crochet Club series
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the wedding planners by @gukyi
fluff, light smut, light angst | one shot | 28K words
jeon jungkook is three things: cocky, terrible, and your worst enemy. then your best friend hoseok gets engaged to the love of his life, and suddenly jeon jungkook is four things: cocky, terrible, your worst enemy, and the man you will be spending the next seven months with in order to plan your best friend’s wedding.
and then, as if your life couldn’t get any shittier, you make the poor decision of sleeping with him on the first day of the job.
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through the night by @nightbts
ON-GOING | 🍙, fluff, angst | series
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Travel Diary by @nitaescence
fluff | one shot | 2.5K words
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way down in bed stuy by @minstrivia
smut, light angst | one shot | 5K+ words
as a final farewell you fuck your sister’s unbelievably attractive knave boyfriend that you definitely do not have feelings for…again.
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Welcome to the Underworld (AO3 Link) by @spookitokki
fluff, smut, fantasy | one shot | 9.6K words
In a dark little second-hand shop downtown, stuffed in an alleyway you only stumbled into because you were lost, you found a charming antique radio. When you turned it on, it began to play what would become your favorite radio show, “Welcome to the Underworld”
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youngblood by @jinitude
smut | one shot | 14.6K words
“I don’t care if he’s got the potential to be the next big thing. I’m done trying to chase a story that doesn’t exist. The kid is a wet leaf left on the curb to dry and crumble into pieces the next day. You’re going to send me to five of his concerts and I can already tell you how each one is going to go. He’s a wannabe bad boy who jizzes his pants when he sees a girl looking at him. Assign me someone else.”
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9K notes · View notes
jungkxook · 6 months ago
—hot boy bummer. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  
⟶ words: 14,633
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?
⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink
⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛
( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )
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Being friends with Jungkook meant a myriad of things but mainly that there were hardly ever any boundaries that stood between you and him.
Having known him for most of your life, it was just a quintessential part of yours and his relationship with one another. From high school parties where you drunkenly spewed on his shoes and in his dad’s car after he tried lugging you home (and taking the fall all himself for your sake) to letting him lose his virginity in your bed to some girl you didn’t know because your parents were out of town and his would crucify him on the spot if they had found out; or him discovering your stash of vibrators in your dorm one day, or seeing each other naked more often than was probably necessary, there was nothing that either of you could do that would phase the other at this point even when it maybe, probably, definitely should.
College, and Jungkook’s sudden six pack of hard rock abs, only seemed to amplify the chaos of your friendship. If you’re being honest, the abs are sort of a plus ━ but they brought an air of fuckboy to him that is undeniably there even if he tries to deny it sometimes. You suppose it isn’t all his fault. Jungkook has always been bold and brash, attractively charming. Considering he’s seemingly made it his mission to sleep with every girl on campus before he graduates (undisclosed, if you’re being honest, because he’s never outwardly admitted it but you have a hunch), his confidence somehow hasn’t failed him yet.
But then there’s one night in which you think to yourself briefly: this surely must draw some sort of line.
“What if we, like, had sex?”
Jungkook says this a little too casually from beside you. He’s sat on the couch in his dorm, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, and you’re sprawled out on the remaining space, feet kicked up in his lap. You’re positive he’s drunk but, then again, so are you. The remnant shot glasses of soju you had both started the night with (though you think Jungkook’s had half the bottle himself), and your second glass of wine, are all evidence of that. You’re so absorbed by some anime Jungkook had been watching upon your arrival and refused to change that you almost don’t hear what he says. Almost. You do, however, nearly choke on the gummy bear you’ve just tossed into your mouth.
After a sudden hysterical fit of coughs, you manage to sputter, “Excuse me?”
“Like, hypothetically speaking.” He hardly budges when you turn to gawk at him, as if he’s asking you something as casual as what to eat for dinner or if you could pass him the T.V. remote. “Except, not really hypothetically.”
“You’re joking, right?” You scoff.
Jungkook blinks. “No. Why would I be joking?”
You blink. The longer you stare at him, the quicker you’re able to discern that there’s some sort of earnesty in his words and it slightly concerns you. Suddenly, you’re warm in the face. To distract from that painfully obvious fact, an incredulous laugh bubbles at your lips and you kick one of your feet at his thighs. “Very funny, Koo. Can we change the show now if you’re not even watching it?”
“I’m not joking, Y/N.” The severity in his tone makes you sit up at once. When you turn to look at him, he flashes you a taunting smirk, though the devious sparkle in his eyes lets you know this seems to be anything but a joke to him. “I’m sure you’ve thought of me naked before.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot━” Okay, so maybe you have thought of him naked before but how is it your fault when you literally have seen him naked before, and he’s so unabashed around you? “Should I bring you to a hospital to get your head checked, or━?”
“Just hear me out━” Now, he pushes himself to the edge of the sofa. “Why are you here right now?”
“In life? Because I honestly have no clue━”
“No, I meant here. Getting drunk in my apartment on a Friday night instead of getting railed.”
“Okay, I didn’t ask to get called out like that,” You grumble stiffly. “And because you’re my best friend, and I like spending time with you.” It’s not entirely a lie, because you would much rather spend time with Jungkook than anyone else. But when you feel his eyes boring into you in a look of scrutiny, your lips form into a pout which you try to hide by puckering them. “Also because boys are stupid and Hoseok’s blind date stood me up. Again.”
The events from hours earlier resurface in your memory, in which you had spent all evening making yourself look pretty for a boy you had only talked to through text that your roommate had introduced you to, only to arrive to the restaurant you were supposed to be meeting at and waiting there for half an hour by yourself before the boy had sent you a message saying something along the lines of “something came up, hope we can reschedule,” filing it under one of the lamest excuses you’ve ever heard because it hardly even borders on a valid excuse. It’s what had ultimately made you storm into Jungkook’s apartment an hour ago, exclaiming aloud as a greeting with a simple yet scarily cheerful I hate men! because Jungkook knows all about your plights with finding a significant other (or even just someone decent enough to open your legs to), usually lamenting men’s inability to have any emotions. Even the ones who you think are respectable enough, who say they’re fine not having sex on the first date, usually tend to flee right after you finally let them in because sex, as you come to find, seems to be all that men care about.
Admittedly, Jungkook is not any different.
“But it’s not like you’re any better.”
This seems to personally offend Jungkook. He looks at you cynically. “Me?”
“Tell me why you’re here with me on a Friday night when you’re literally one of the hottest guys on campus,” You point out. “You can get any girl, and yet you somehow manage to ruin it every single time. Like with Eunha.”
Jungkook winces. The poor Eunha in question is a pretty girl from your chem class, whomst Jungkook had somehow managed to charm. From what you know, they had hooked up a handful of times before that fateful night in which Jungkook had abruptly broken things off with her. If you’re being honest, he’s not a total monster. The only thing that seems to scare him away is when a girl asks to cuddle him in the morning or talks about the prospective future together. He doesn’t want to hurt them, he told you once before, and finds it much easier to nip any potential relationship in the bud before it can get too far, too out of control.
“We literally only slept together three times anyway and we never went out,” Jungkook points out. “What’s the big deal?”
A roll of your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. “Yeah, it’s not her fault you’re scared of commitment.”
“Nu’uh,” The boy sulks. “I’m only scared of realistic things, like microwaves.”
A snort bubbles at your lips, and it’s frustrating how adorable he finds the simple action. Rather than entertain the thought of his irrational fear of kitchen appliances (because you’ve heard it all before, and you still can’t find where he was incited with the terror of an exploding microwave), you sit up.
“Jungkook, I don’t even like you like that.”
“I don’t like you like that either. That’s why it’s so perfect!” Jungkook says brightly. “Look, we know each other better than anyone else ever could. We’re already comfortable with each other. We don’t have to go through all that boring small talk. All I’m saying is we could give it a try. No relationship, no emotions, just sex.”
You consider the thought for a moment, weigh the pros and cons in your head.
The cons? He’s your best friend.
The pros? He’s your best friend, and he’s hot.
Truthfully, your slightly buzzed mind can find very little to dissuade you away from the inviting proposition and maybe that’s why you begin to entertain the idea. And, sure, you had just complained profusely about how men sometimes only used you for sex, but it’s not like you don’t have needs too. You just don’t have the gusto in you anymore to spend days on a boy who will only just leave you the moment you let him have sex with you. At least with Jungkook, he’s already offering you a blatant deal of sex only and you know you won’t have to worry about him breaking your heart; and he doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded dreamy post-sex cuddle talk of a future family and babies and a white picket-fence home. It’s a win-win for the both of you, really. Or maybe you’re just telling yourself that.
“How would we even start?” You ask finally. “I mean… Do you even find me attractive enough in that way?”
“Yeah.” Jungkook hardly bats a lash. He meets your stare, licks slowly at his lower lip. When he sees the cross look of disbelief scrunching at your face, he hastens to respond. “I’m not blind. You’re fucking drop dead gorgeous, Y/N.”
“But physically attractive? I’m no hot girl Eunha.”
“If I wanted Eunha, I’d be between her legs right now. Y/N, of course I think you’re attractive.” A gentle sliver of a smile dances upon his lips. He leans his head on the back of the couch, eyes fluttering over your appearance shortly. “I’ve always liked your lips, and your eyes. Think they’re beautiful.”
Suddenly, you’re flustered again. The room feels as if it’s getting increasingly warmer, yet you seem to want to bask in the feeling and attention a little longer. “That’s too sentimental.”
“It’s true though.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’ve always had a thing for idiots,” You jest playfully. “Jerks, too. Playboys who are too hot for their own good.”
“Ah, and I love it when you talk dirty to me.” A cheeky grin tugs at his lips as he clutches at his heart over his chest. “It’s a good thing I like it a little too much, knowing you’ll always keep me in check.”
But then the mirth seems to fade from your mind long enough for you to hum aloud pensively, “And I’ve always liked your eyes. I’ve never seen such big eyes before. Sometimes, if I look long enough, it’s like I can see the stars in them.”
As you’re speaking about them, his irises glisten magnificently. He bites at his lip now, as if to hide the way his soft smile turns sheepish. “I like your bum.”
“Really? I always worry it’s too flat.”
“Are you kidding? Your ass is a fucking god-send. It’s hard not to stare when you wear leggings sometimes,” Jungkook admits, earning a small giggle from you. “And I like your boobs. I’ve always wondered…” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. He shoots you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I’m being an idiot, aren’t I?”
“Well, maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
Silence saturates the room now, settling comfortably between the two of you. He wonders what you’re thinking, and you wonder if he can hear your heart hammering against your chest. Perhaps on any other day when you were of sound mind, you could find a plethora of reasons as to why sleeping with your best friend was a terrible idea. But being that you were slightly tipsy, and Jungkook isn’t far off, you can find not one fault, except for maybe how tragically hot Jungkook looks sitting across from you and how he’s never been yours, at least in that way. Would it be so wrong to try just once?
You shift then, pushing yourself to your knees if only so you can worm your way towards him before swinging one leg over his. You settle back on his lap, hands gripping his shoulders. He can feel your core press against the inside of his thigh, just where his dick is nestled and he has to bite back a moan. His eyes are wider than usual, as if believing the moment to be surreal, though something sultry threatens to darken them.
The excitement crackles through your veins like electricity. You’ve never been in such a compromising position with Jungkook before, and you wonder if it should be concerning just how much you’re enjoying it. It almost feels as if time slows down, every second dragging on, yet he can’t look away. His hands come to tug at your hoodie (that he’s almost positive was his once upon a time before you nicked it from his closet) and you meet him part way, replacing his efforts as you pull it up and off your body. Then, you’re sitting back on his lap in your full nude glory, chest bare and right in his face. He eyes the swell of your breasts, the perk of your nipples. Of course you’re not wearing anything beneath your hoodie ━ and, god, he loves it.
“Touch me?”
Your voice comes to him in an almost dream. You reach for his hand then, your palm soft around his knuckles and the tattoos that ink his skin. It’s the same hand of which he wears the other half to your pair of friendship bracelets in one of his favourite colours of red, decorated with little pink hearts. It came in a matching set of two (yours in your own favourite colour, currently on the wrist of the hand you’re using to guide Jungkook’s), cute little macrame braid ones with hearts woven into the design that you had pointed out one day while you were both at the mall and he had bought without any hesitation mostly as a joke but resulted in both of you wearing them on a daily basis.
Now, all he can do is continue watching you with bated breath as you guide his hand right where you both want him. He comes to cup the underside of one of your breasts, your hand over his pressing his fingers tighter together until you can feel some sort of pleasant pressure. And, just like that, something feral and needy seems to snap within him. His hand slithers from your grasp if only so he can flick his thumb across your nipple, mesmerized by the softness of it. He’s only ever seen you naked once before and it was fleeting. You were both drunk, skinny dipping in a lake with a handful of other friends, but it had been too dark to notice much else. But now? Now, he can see all of you and the sight strikes a chord right down to his dick.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Jungkook groans.
“Koo.” The cute little nickname you had given him sounds dirty now as it slips from your lips in a moan. “Too sentimental.”
But Jungkook isn’t listening because you really, really, really are so beautiful. He bows his head to your chest, catching one of your nipples in his mouth. He murmurs something against your chest that sounds akin to, “We can take things slow.”
“Slow…” Your head is spinning, but it’s a delightful sensation. Something hard pokes against your ass now, and the adrenaline only seems to build within you. It’s odd how everything feels so foreign ━ exploring his body and these newfound feelings like the uncharted territory it is ━ yet secure and safe at the same time. As if you know what to do next, where to touch next, how to move, your bodies almost fitting together like pieces to a puzzle. “Y-Yeah, I like that. Can I move?”
“Fuck, yes, please,” he growls. He’s much too busy nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin on your chest, teeth tugging at your nipple.
You hurry to obey, giving a small experimental swivel of your hips that almost immediately has the both of your inhaling a sharp breath of air. His dick strains against his sweatpants, the material doing very little in protecting him against you. Your core throbs as you rub yourself on him.
“Like this?” You rasp.
“Yeah, just like that.” Jungkook’s head rolls back onto the couch, his eyes squeezing shut and his blonde hair spilling into his eyes. He clenches his jaw, the nerves fluttering in the corner, as pure euphoria riddles his features. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything so sexy. “Fuck, we probably shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Yeah,” You agree, breathless. “Do you wanna stop?”
“No. Do you?”
“Thank god.” The sigh of relief that emits from Jungkook startles even him but, in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t register how any of this could be a mistake. “Ah, shit━ Faster━”
“Mmm, Koo━” You whimper as you quicken your pace, the vulgar harbored thought of his dick in you thrilling you to no end.
“Fuuck, I’ve never heard you sound like this before. So needy, so desperate,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. And it’s all because of him, the way you’re feeling. He’s never wanted to hurry to please you faster, itching to tear you apart if he’ll get to hear those noises from you again and again. “I━”
He’s gonna cum, and he’s not even in your pussy. What’s gotten into him?  
He presses you a little harsher against his dick, sitting up straighter so that his chest is pressed flush against yours. He leans forward, lips chasing after yours, before you pull back just enough sluggishly to press your finger to his mouth.
“Uh uh. No kissing,” You rasp.
The words process in Jungkook’s head, but the weight of them don’t seem to linger in his daze. He’s far too overwhelmed by you and the way you’re making him feel to even begin to try to decipher why you avoid his mouth and so, for now, he doesn’t care. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your throat. You clutch at his hair, tugging at the roots tight enough for him to moan.
“Nnngh, Jungkook━” You whine. “I’m gonna━ Oh, fuck, Koo━”
And then you’re unravelling, right in his very arms. He holds you close as you tremble and shake, rutting your hips sloppily against his to ride out your high, and Jungkook thinks he can definitely get used to this. The familiar burn forms in his stomach and, without even thinking of it, he comes in the confinements of his pants.
But in the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice quite a lot of things. Neither do you.
So, maybe you could both find a hundred and one reasons why having sex with your best friend would surely cross some lines, but the thing with you and Jungkook (and what would eventually blossom into a hubristic relationship of sorts) is that it wasn’t just sex. You would always be comfortable around him, as he would be with you. And nothing could ever possibly get weird between the two of you ━ not when you had both made a promise to each other that it wouldn’t get in the way of your friendship.
Because ━ while, yeah, he’s hot and suffers from fuckboy tendencies from time-to-time and, aside from random late night hookups ━ he was still the same boy that would drag you out at three in the morning to drive to the next city over for a bowl of ramen, who would marathon shows as long as One Piece or Game of Thrones with you, watching as much as you can in one all-nighter; who would come to your dorm, no matter the time of day, the moment you said you were sick or suffering from cramps, piled high with your favourite snacks; who shared a repertoire of silly inside jokes with you that never made any sense to anyone but the both of you; who insisted you both wear friendship bracelets even in college. He would always be an angel to you, treat you well, because you meant that much to him.
A small thought in the back of Jungkook’s head wonders, above all else, if you were anyone different, would he have even bothered suggesting such a ludicrous idea, drunk or not?
Because he’s positive no one else could make him cum in his pants like a horny prepubescent teen ━ no one except for you.
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“If we’re really gonna do this, we need to set some ground rules.”
Admittedly, neither you nor Jungkook knew what would happen after Jungkook’s proposition to you. Maybe you were expecting the two of you to pretend as if nothing had ever happened, or laugh it off as something so inconsequential that neither of you should bother worrying about it. Instead, the very next day, you find that you’re back in Jungkook’s dorm. Only this time, you’re in his bed, and he spent the past half hour sufficiently eating you out.
Now, you’ve had an epiphany in the form of Jungkook’s dick, and that is that it’s big.
You’ve seen it before on occasion ━ like when he streaked nude across campus as a dare or when he needed to use your shower because his apartment was under maintenance and he walked out on you in the living room ━ but this is clearly a very different circumstance. All red, swollen, angry tip wet and glistening with precum. You had to brace yourself as he pushed himself into you, cautiously and slowly, enjoying the way you stretch to fit around him. If you had a drunken excuse the night before for loving the thought of getting off with Jungkook, then you surely don’t have one now. It’s a shameless guilty pleasure, you think, that he’s at least indulging in.
“Rules,” Jungkook scoffs now. “You’re such a nerd. Fuck, you feel so fucking good━ You doing okay?”
More than. Your head lolls back against his pillow, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head. “Mhm.”
“Want a minute?”
Jungkook pauses without any hesitation, gnawing on his lower lip as your walls clench around him so tightly he feels he might fall apart then and there. His hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing comforting circles against your burning skin. A few deep breaths later and you’re probing Jungkook to move again. His hips rut into yours at a leisure pace, and he marvels for a moment at the way his dick disappears into your pussy, slick and wet with your own arousal. The thought of being in you ━ of finally feeling your walls wrapped around him, all wet and snug ━ is enough to make him bust then and there, but he refrains miraculously.
“Holy fuck,” You groan. “Why are you so big━”
Your voice cuts off into a delightful whimper, walls aching around him. Jungkook snorts, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Nothing sexier than hearing you stroke my ego.”
“Don’t let it get to your already big head,” You retort sluggishly.
“Big head!” he grumbles against your throat, lips brushing faintly against your skin and sending shivers down your spine. “Insult me some more. You know how it gets me going.”
“Oh my god, shut up. Where were we?”
“Right,” You breathe in a sharp inhale of air as he grinds against your hips. “And rule number one is no kissing. That’s way too intimate.”
Jungkook quirks a brow. “How is kissing more intimate than having my dick in you?”
“It just is.” You refuse to tell him the truth. You poke your fingers at his sides, causing him to jerk against you. “Don’t question it.”
“Fine. Then no sentimental shit in general, like cuddling or pet names,” Jungkook retorts. “And no public displays of affection.”
“Okay,” You nod. “Fuck, Jungkook━”
“God, I love hearing you moan my name,” Jungkook grunts. He watches with fascination the way your face reacts at his every movement. “Too much?”
“No. Kinda hot,” You admit. An abrupt thought pops into your head that has you murmuring hazily, “Oh, and you can’t have sex with me to your sex playlist.”
Jungkook looks appalled. The sex playlist in question is one you’ve heard briefly before, if only because you’ve walked in on Jungkook and his flavour of the month a handful of times one too many times.
“So you’re telling me you don’t want to have the best orgasm of your life to The Weeknd or the Neighbourhood? WAP?” Jungkook asks, wriggling his brows suggestively. “Alanis Morissette?” You have less than half a second to register the 90s pop singer as out of place before Jungkook breaks out into song with a brief rendition of Head over Feet. “You’re my best friend, best friend with benefits━!”
Part of you knows he’s joking, but there’s still a small sliver of you that makes you gawk at him dubiously before dissolving into a fit of unabashed laughter. It rumbles against his chest, vibrates his dick in you. “You’re not serious, are you? That’s not actually in your sex playlist, is it?”
He flashes you a shit-eating grin. “Guess you’ll never know now.”
Another roll of your eyes makes him snicker. He’s gotten used to your snide remarks, but he’ll gladly keep suffering under them if he gets to wipe that taunting smirk off your face each time with the way his dick makes you feel. You cling a little tighter to his shoulders and muse aloud, “So that’s it then?”
“Yeah━” Jungkook knows you’re referring to the rules and your plan, although it’s getting harder to focus on talking as he continues to grind against you. “And nothing has to change between us, even if we stop. We’re still just two best friends.”
“Who have sex from time to time.”
He can’t help himself. He tries again. “Who might kiss.”
“Nope.” You’re smiling even despite the way you shoot him an aggravated stare first.
“We might?”
“No, we definitely won’t.”
Worth a shot, he thinks to himself. At least you really do always keep him in check.
After all, what are best friends for?
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So, maybe a part of you thought the shift in your relationship with Jungkook wouldn’t last very long. A week at most, and maybe Hoseok would find you another pointless let down of a blind date to go on and Jungkook would get horny for some other girl ━ but it’s certainly been more than a week now, and you’ve had sex with him more than two times.
A third, and a fourth, if you’re being blatantly honest, and maybe a few more times after that but you don’t really remember what count you’re both on now which should probably be concerning. Days elapse into days, which turn to weeks, then months. Morning, afternoon, and night.
It’s not as if you hadn’t already spent almost every waking moment with Jungkook but now you had a reason to be at his apartment at any and all hours of the day and not solely for movie watching marathons. You’re positive he’s still having his occasional random flings, though you’re fortunate his commitment issues at least force him to go to their homes rather than his for the most part, so you never really have to witness half-naked girls stumbling out of his apartment just as you’re wandering in. He says it has something to do with how his bedroom is his sacred space, though you think it’s more like he wouldn’t want his hook ups discovering his Overwatch figurines or something (because, before Jungkook’s proposition, you’ve walked in on him once and a girl when they were entangled on the couch in his living room).
But you’ve noticed lately you’re getting too comfortable with your arrangement with Jungkook; too comfortable knowing he’ll be there at the end of a long day to greet you, to please you until you’re crying out his name. Sometimes he tells you about the girls he’s texting, or shows you a picture from a hot girl’s Instagram whose D.M.s he’s just slid into. And sometimes you’re left wondering how often he comes straight to you after hooking up with a random girl.
It shouldn’t matter to you, and you swear that it doesn’t.
Maybe you’re just overthinking things. Hoseok certainly seems to think so, but his judgement wasn’t much to go by.
Because, lately, Hoseok has been encouraging you more and more to give Yukhei (the blind date Hoseok had initially set you up with when you found yourself at Jungkook’s) another chance for two reasons: 1) “Yukhei’s a nice boy,” he had cheerfully reminded you, “he’ll treat you well,” and 2) “Stop fucking your best friend. It’s morally wrong.”
There were many things wrong with his statement, from the fact that you didn’t exactly consider standing up a date as “nice” and that you were also still begrudgingly lamenting the way Hoseok had discovered your recent fling with Jungkook (although, you weren’t being very inconspicuous, having shower sex with Jungkook early one morning when you were certain Hoseok would be spending the day at his fiance’s home instead of yours).
But then you meet Yukhei and you realize that, oh crap, he’s cute. And he’s nice.
As it turns out, after bumping into him one day when you’re with Hoseok lounging on the quad of your campus and he comes bounding over to return a textbook Hoseok had lent him for a specific class, Yukhei is so easily charming. He also gives a pretty valid excuse for flaking on your date, proving that he had to present his dissertation, making you clearly aware that he’s cute, nice, and smart. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t see the appeal, yet his curiosity and intrigue seems to get the best of him.
“So that was your blind date?” Jungkook asks after grabbing your attention on the quad and stealing you away from Hoseok and Yukhei. “Yukhei?”
“You know him?”
“Seen him around,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly. “I’ve never really talked to him. But him? You’re not telling me you’re actually interested in him, are you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” You’re truly just as clueless about your feelings towards Yukhei as Jungkook seems to be. “What’s so wrong about him?”
“He’s━” Jungkook stops. He shakes his head. “Heard he’s got a small dick anyway.”
You shoot the boy a wary look, only to find him grinning deviously at himself. “Maybe he just wants to be friends.”
At this, Jungkook lets out a scoffing sound that borders on disbelieving laughter. “No, I definitely think he wants to have sex with you in his Toyota Camry, Y/N, but what do I know?”
“You’re not jealous, are you?”
“No, why would I be jealous?”
You can’t quite tell if he’s angry or not but, then again, why would he be? As far as either of you are concerned, there’s nothing to be jealous of.
So then why does it feel like he’s simply just telling himself that?
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“Are you seriously on your phone right now?”
Jungkook asks this from somewhere behind you a handful of days later, a little peeved but most likely because your jarring 8:00 a.m. alarm had roused the both of you violently awake. In his defense, Jungkook is not a morning person.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You’re currently sprawled out on your hands and knees on his bed, phone still in your grasp after having plucked it off the nightstand in haste. Your clothes are scattered across the floor of his room, remnant clues of the night before when he had beckoned you over after hours, and your body is covered in nothing but hickeys and an unbuttoned blue flannel belonging to Jungkook that you had chucked on last night that does nothing in covering up the swell of your breasts which Jungkook is now currently eyeing. “Am I not giving you enough attention? Were you expecting cuddles or something? Thought that wasn’t in the rules.”
“No,” Jungkook huffs. He runs a hand through his long messy hair in an attempt to fix it; he ultimately gives up taming his locks, instead using the hair tie around his wrist to tie his hair back into a cute yet sexy little ponytail. As he does so, you notice the red friendship bracelet around his wrist and smile smally. “But my dick could use some cuddles. Preferably with your mouth, but it will also gladly accept your hand.”
Jungkook may not be a morning person but, as you’ve come to realize, his dick certainly is.
It’s painfully obvious too, his hardened length straining against the gray sweatpants he had thrown on at some point. And, god, did he have to wear those? It left little to the imagination, the outline of his length teasing you just enough.
“I should get going,” You say. “I have a test coming up. There’s supposed to be a review session today in class, and I don’t want to miss it.”
“Well, you don’t seem like you’re in a rush since you’re still on your phone,” Jungkook points out. “Who are you texting anyway? Yukhei?”
“Anger is an emotion,” You rebuke casually. “So is jealousy.”
Jungkook feigns a look of mock hurt. “I’m not angry or jealous! I’m needy.”
Still, Jungkook reaches out to swiftly pluck your phone from your hands.
He’s pressed up against your back in an instant, his dick hard against your ass, and he doesn’t move very far even when you twist in your spot in an attempt to grab your phone back. You don’t, and instead you end up on your back with him on his side, propped up on his elbow. You miss when he casts a swift gaze down at your phone, only to see that Yukhei’s chat messages are indeed open, and something seems to gnaw terribly at his gut before he tosses your phone to the side. He’s looking at you now with those big beautiful eyes of his, and you hate it.
“Please?” he beckons. He ruts his hips impatiently but slowly against your leg. He drops his head to bury his face in the crook of your neck, lips dangerously close to brushing against your flesh but he refrains somehow. “M’so hard right now, could probably bust the moment you touch me.”
The thought is tempting, having a helpless Jungkook cumming in your hands. The sight alone has quickly become your favourite thing, helping the frustrated boy get off. Besides, you’re certain you could ask Hoseok for the review notes.
Fuck it, you cave.
You fidget until you’ve pressed him back against the bed and have clambered on top of him, wiggling your way down to fit between his legs. Jungkook is watching you now with a half-asleep expression, though his teeth sink into his lower lip as you pull at his sweatpants until they’re down at his thighs, letting his swollen dick spring free.
“You know━” You hum. You reach out to grab at the base of his cock. “Yukhei wants to hang out, and Hoseok keeps telling me to give it a shot.”
That much is true. Part of you wants to say yes, if only because Yukhei seems promising enough, but the thought alone is enough for you to feel as if you’ve done something horribly wrong to Jungkook.
“Oh.” The word eclipses Jungkook’s mouth in a shallow breath of air. Then, your mouth wraps around the puffy head of his dick, shining with leaking precum that you swallow back, and Jungkook’s reaction is immediate. Head thrown back, face scrunching together, muscles in his toned abdomen flexing as he seizes and grunts aloud. “Oh, fuck━ Well… Are you gonna?”
Jungkook asks the last question with much difficulty, and a part of him thinks it doesn’t all have to do with how you’re making him feel.
“Dunno.” You snort around his dick, and he marvels at how adorable such a lewd action can seem.
You decide to focus on sucking him off because it truly is a sexy sight to see, letting the topic of Yukhei drop. Jungkook certainly doesn’t mind. As you swirl your tongue around his tip and reach up with your free hand to fondle at his balls, his long hair falls into his lashes but he still tries to find you past his wild locks, hooded eyes gazing down at you.  
“Ah, shit━” Jungkook hisses delightfully, hips jerking forward instinctively into your mouth. The faintest hints of a drowsy smirk tug at his lips. “Fuck, yes, just like that.”
Yeah, you think to yourself then, you’re definitely going to ride him later. Screw going to class.
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From: Jungkook Sent: 1:05 a.m.
bro i noticed u werent wearing our friendship bracelet while u were giving me head earlier. is everything ok??
You wake in the morning to a single text from Jungkook ━ and one you had not been expecting.
That’s not to say that getting the occasional text message from Jungkook at any and all hours of the day was abnormal, but the extent of his messages sent anywhere past midnight usually always range from something more coherent in the form of “what would u do if i was there rn?” to something exuding typical lazy Jungkook manner with a simple “dtf?” or “send noods lol” to something even more provocatively cryptic such as the eggplant and splashing water (or, as far as Jungkook is concerned, something else entirely) emojis and nothing else, left open for your own interpretation that typically, usually, without a doubt, results in you in his bed and his dick in you. But this seems to be something else entirely.
Unfortunately, Jungkook’s text isn’t the only concern of yours.
Hoseok has spent the better part of the morning giving you a lecture on why having sex with your best friend is bad. He seems so passionate about the topic that you’re certain he would have pulled out a powerpoint at any moment, each slide ending in a picture of Yukhei and why you should maybe try fucking him instead, if you entertained the idea a little longer. Hoseok claims it’s just a harmless date. Yukhei might be a nice boy, but you don’t know how you feel about him. You don’t want to lead him on, and a scary thought points out the fact that maybe, while Yukhei is a nice boy, he isn’t Jungkook.
“I don’t get why you don’t just give Yukhei a chance━” Hoseok is saying now, sat on the couch in your shared apartment with him. “It’s not like you have to marry him. I don’t think one date will hurt━ Aaand, you’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”
The sheepish look on your face is enough of an answer for him. You’ve been anxiously eyeing your phone and the text Jungkook had sent you last that you’ve yet to respond to, even despite being awake for more than a few hours now.
“Yes, I am listening,” You say dismissively. “Something about how one date won’t hurt, but that’s what you said when Yoongi asked you out, and you’re literally engaged now.”
The glistening metallic ring on Hoseok’s finger is evidence enough. The boy looks down at it as if seeing it for the first time, purses his lips, and then nods in agreement. “Okay, yeah, maybe you’re right. But you’re holding out for Jungkook and for what? He’s hot, yeah, and he’s your best friend, sure, but at the end of the day he’s still just a horny male who wants to stick his dick in anything that moves.”
“Hoseok.” Your grumbling sigh is interrupted by the motion of your phone vibrating against your thigh once more. You peek at the screen fleetingly to see a new text.
From: Jungkook Sent: 2:35 p.m.
send n00ds?
miss ur tits :(
Typical Jungkook.
The text from the night before is all but seemingly forgotten from his mind, and you can’t quite tell if you’re devastated or relieved. You don’t have very long to discern which emotion you’re feeling when Hoseok snatches your phone to look at what’s gotten your attention before exclaiming suddenly, “Aha! See! What did I say?”
“It’s not like that,” You wave Hoseok off. “Jungkook treats me well. He respects me, and I’m comfortable with him.”
“And how long until whatever this is━” He gestures vaguely to your phone as if to point out your relationship with Jungkook, “has to end? Do you really think a pinky promise is going to make sure your friendship with him isn’t totally ruined? I mean, how can you continue being casual friends with someone, see them dating someone else, when they’ve had their dick in you?”
You know it makes sense. Realistically, you either stop sleeping with each other or it potentially develops into something more. But in both circumstances, what were the chances that either of you didn’t get your heart broken? Maybe a part of you was apprehensive of Jungkook finding the “right” person for him one day that has him ending things with you, and while you swear you’d be happy for him, relationships sometimes have a way of distracting people from those already around them. Were you prepared to have someone take him away from you, platonically and whatever it is else that you have with him? Did you really think you could just keep being friends with him, as if nothing ever occurred between you two?
You don’t think Jungkook is bothered worrying about the state of your friendship with him, much less overthinking it like you seem to be. It shouldn’t be a big deal ━ yet why was there still that terrible nagging voice in the back of your mind? Whether or not Hoseok is right, you don’t want to find out. You don’t have feelings for Jungkook anyway.
But your ability to bend at his every will is certainly interesting.
You grab your phone before Hoseok can do any serious damage like unlocking it and responding to Jungkook, clutching it to your chest as you start to cross the living room. The other boy looks at you in bewilderment. “Where are you going now?”
“Where does it look?” You call over your shoulder just before you disappear into the bathroom, and Hoseok deduces all at once that you’re truly a lost cause. “I need to send him a picture of my boobs.”
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“He’s totally into you, Y/N.”
Admittedly, there were many mundane but essentially weird things you’ve talked to Jungkook about while having sex. You’ve had many heated debates about everything under the sun from whether or not pineapple on pizza should be illegal to top five betrayals in either movies or animes, to passionate grand philosophical discussions about what exists outside of the universe.
It’s not as if you had been planning on talking about Yukhei to Jungkook when he had invited you over to his apartment late at night after sending your risqué boob picture to him but, like many things in your friendship with Jungkook, it sort of just happened. He had asked you how your day was and you had decided to broach the topic experimentally, though you think deep down you’re doing it on purpose to see if he’d react in any way. What started with you mentioning Hoseok’s adamance and you sort of genuinely asking Jungkook for advice on Yukhei somehow evolved into Jungkook interrogating you on whether or not you’ve hung out with him yet.
“Jungkook. You’re getting off topic,” You admonish him now, as if your own choice of topic is any better when his dick is currently in you.
Jungkook is wedged between your thighs smushed up against your chest, large palms holding you on your ribcage in place beneath him. He’s a comfortable heavy draped over top of you, cock stretching you wide. You can feel his heart hammering against yours and he’s slick with sweat, golden hair clinging to his forehead and in his pretty eyes. You resist the urge to reach out and brush the messy locks away but, again, how would that be any less intimate of an action than what you’re already doing? Another line uncrossed, you suppose.
“How am I off topic?” Jungkook retorts. “You literally just said you can’t tell if he’s into you but he dropped by when you were done class and bought you lunch. You don’t just do that for a girl you don’t care that much about.”
“You buy me lunch, like, every day,” You point out.
“Because you’re my best friend. Of course I care about you,” Jungkook says.
“Ah, Jungkook━” You curse suddenly, grabbing his attention when you shift your weight beneath him. “You’re crushing me. Why’d you stop moving?”
He doesn’t have an answer, if only because he hadn’t even realized he’d stop moving in the first place. Without hesitation, he continues leisurely rutting his hips against yours, grabbing at one of your legs to hook it around his waist. This new angle lets you feel even more of him as he sinks further into you, if that was even still possible, reaching so far into you that you swear it’s like you can feel him in your stomach. Your head lolls back against the pillows, pure euphoria contorting your face so much so to the point that it distracts you entirely from the distant look glazing over Jungkook’s eyes.
“Yukhei definitely wants to bang,” he huffs under his breath.
At once, an exasperated groan fills his ears.
“I can’t believe we’re seriously having this conversation right now,” You roll your eyes, fingers prodding at his sides. “I don’t wanna talk about Yukhei potentially wanting to have sex with me.”
Jungkook’s glad you said it, at least. Though now he’s watching you with hooded eyes as he thrusts into you a little harder, maybe a little intentionally. His indulgent gaze droops to your breasts, admiring the way they bounce beneath him each time his hips make contact with yours. He thinks back earlier in the day to the picture you had sent him which, really, had sparked the mood for the rest of the night.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whines abruptly. His eyes screw shut and brows furrow together as your walls clench around him. He drops his head to bury his face in your chest, lips momentarily wrapping around one of your nipples as he sucks harshly at the soft flesh. When he speaks next, forehead still resting against your collarbones, his voice is a breathless croak, “Well, do you like him?”
“No,” You moan. “Maybe━ Fuck, Koo━ I don’t know.”
“He’s gonna be at that party Tae’s throwing, isn’t he?” Jungkook tries to focus, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to do so when he’s inching closer and closer to his high. “Shit, ah, Y/N━ Why don’t you try talking to him or something? See how the night goes?”
“He’s nice but I don’t think he’s the one for me,” You admit sheepishly. “I think I’m just gonna end things while I still can, with as little harm as possible.”
“Well, glad that’s settled,” Jungkook mumbles. “Can we please stop talking about Yukhei now?”
You seem to miss the way he clings to you a little tighter, hands flying down to grip at your hips, nails digging crescent moon shapes into your skin. He snaps his hips into yours a little faster this time, your pussy throbbing around him.
“Nngh, Jungkook━”
Your hands fumble to grip at his hair, tugging tightly at the roots and earning a delightful hiss from the boy. Your own mouth drops open in a silent moan and it’s a wonder he doesn’t combust at just how sexy the sight is. He hates how his eyes stay trained on the shape of your lips, the soft plumpness of them. He’s felt them wrapped around his dick plenty of times before but he concedes that it’s probably hardly anywhere near to how it would feel to kiss you. Like actually kiss you, tongue and all.
God, what’d he give just to smother your lips with his.
And, god, he hopes you never find out. He’s positive that thought is far more scandalous alone than anything you’ve ever done together.
You’re writhing beneath him now, hips jutting forward desperately to meet his. “I’m gonna cum, Jungkook━”
“Fuck, yes,” Jungkook growls. “Wanna feel you cream around my cock so bad. Come on, baby━”
In the heat of the moment, you seem to miss the pet name that slurs off his tongue and the sentiment in it. A few more jolting slams of his hips and you’re tumbling over the edge. He has to sputter for air when he feels your pussy wrapping so tightly around him, stuttering in his pace above you if only to watch as you unravel beneath him. Hooded dark eyes glazed over in that perfect fucked out expression he loves so much, teeth biting at your lower lip so hard he wonders if it’ll bruise in the morning.
A sudden thought pops into his head when you’ve settled enough, amongst the blinding pure white of bliss that clouds his thoughts. “Did you get my text by the way? The one I sent last night?”
You gasp for air. The bracelet on your wrist itches at the mention of it, and you’re fortunate you decided to wear it that afternoon before coming to Jungkook’s. “Y-Yeah━”
“Everything’s fine,” You say this as dismissively as you can. Your core is still vibrating after the harsh impact of your orgasm paired with Jungkook’s swollen length still in you. “I just… I was taking a shower and didn’t want to get it wet. I forgot to put it back on in the morning.”
That’s a lie. You had mostly taken it off as part of an experiment, though it hasn’t answered much. At least Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize that.
“Oh,” Jungkook breathes. A beat of silence passes, before he deadpans cockily, “Wait, you were taking a shower and I wasn’t invited?”
“Oh my god, shut up━” Maybe if he hadn’t just currently driven you to nirvana and back, you’d notice the way the sloppy grin on his face is a simple taunt. But you’re much too distracted to care. Instead, you use your leg that’s still hooked around his waist to gently push and roll him onto his back so that you can straddle his hips. His eyes sparkle mischievously as he watches you waste no time in hurrying to grind against him at an agonizingly steady pace that makes his head spin. “You’re ruining the moment. I’m trying to make you cum.”
A devious cackle rumbles from his chest, albeit a little contented at the same time. Yeah, he definitely likes the sound of that. “Well then, by all means, don’t let me stop you.”
It’s only then that his question comes back into your mind. If he felt the need to ask you again about the bracelet, maybe that meant something after all. At the very least, it means he hadn’t forgotten about it altogether. On the other hand, you wonder how often he had spent thinking, or over-thinking, the issue in the past twenty-four hours, if at all.
Was it wrong to feel some semblance of joy over that potential fact? Probably.
That doesn’t seem to bother you much this time. Not when he’s gazing up at you as if you’re some divine sexy goddess, all his to enjoy. You can’t help yourself; you reach down to brush the sweaty hair from his eyes, perhaps all too gentle of an action for best friends.
And he smiles, maybe a little too softly and maybe a little too ardently if you look close enough.
He smiles.
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The thing about your supposed “rules” with your relationship with Jungkook is that there might be a few loose ends that neither you nor Jungkook pay much attention to sometimes.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Mostly, the “no public displays of affection” clause is easily disregardable. It’s typically when you’re too drunk to remember it and a bit needy, craving one another’s touch, but those around you never truly seem to care or even notice because, if you’re lucky, they’re equally as smashed. Sometimes the “no cuddles” clause blurs into a gray area where it’s simply just you and Jungkook post-sex, sprawled out in his bed, not necessarily wrapped up in one another’s arms and cooing sweet nothings to one another but giggling at nothing in particular except one another as you bask in each other’s company and nothing more. You suppose some rules are meant to be broken.
For the most part, Jungkook never seems to question the no kissing rule you were so adamant in insisting. Not until one night in which you’re left wondering where things go so drastically wrong. It starts off as normally as any other day with you and Jungkook can, spent in his apartment binge watching movies. You hadn’t expected that night to switch as suddenly as it does when Jungkook shoots you a text earlier in the day asking if you want to come to his for a night of casual drinking as simply “best friends.” But, as always, one thing seems to lead to another, and you can’t get enough of Jungkook. Maybe it’s in the way he holds you a little tighter, the way he tugs you onto his lap on the sofa in his living room, the way he grips your thighs with a certain type of insatiable desire.
“You know…” he hums. “You drive me insane. In, like, the best way possible.”
Part of you realizes his actions even without him seeming to, and the drunken smile on your face remaining frozen in place, a little dumbfounded. “Jungkook…”
“When I’m with you…” He lifts his stare to look at you, but you have nothing to say. Neither does he. Instead, you’re left grinning at one another and suddenly your face is warm. He leans towards you, his nose nuzzling against the side of your throat. Your hands stay threaded in his hair now, and he swears he feels you secure your grip as if to pull him closer.
You can feel his lips brush faintly against your skin, grazing along your neck to the underside of your jaw. Up, up, up, until━
It’s just as his mouth meets with the corner of yours that you register what he’s doing, even in your clouded state. You turn your head just in time, and he comes to an immediate halt, his lips barely making contact with your cheek instead before he pulls away. He doesn’t move very far but you also don’t push him away just yet. Instead, you shift your head to look at him, still inches apart from him.
“What are you doing?” You ask. He can’t quite tell if you’re appalled or not, an empty expression staring back at him.
“I━ You━” He fumbles over his words, squeezes his eyes shut. He blames it on the alcohol even though his head is swimming with thoughts that seem to only concern you. But then a fierceness seems to stir within him, one that makes his jaw clench as he meets your stunned stare. The question rolls off his tongue without meaning to. “Is this about Yukhei?”
“Is that why you weren’t wearing our bracelet the other day?”
The question is so ridiculous, you have to laugh. “What are you going on about?”
But Jungkook doesn’t see what’s so funny and so he tries again, his persistence taking hold. “Is that why you won’t ever let me kiss you?”
You blink. Then, you’re shaking your head at him. Exasperation hangs heavy in your words, shaping in the form of a tired scoff. “You’re not serious.”
You’ve slithered off of his lap before he can even think to stop you ━ but if he had, would you have even stayed? You’re mad, but he doesn’t know why. “No, I wanna know. Because if what we have is already so meaningless, what makes a kiss any different?”
“So I wanna know,” he says, brows unconsciously knitting together. His gaze is searching yours desperately, as if begging for an answer he’ll want to hear. But he knows he’s being an idiot, a small sober part in him makes him realize that. “Humour me. Have you had sex with him yet?”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe that’s what you’re on about.” Suddenly, you’re frowning. Your hardened stare meets the boy’s and the irritation that scrunches at your face makes him wince, but it’s too late for him to take back the damage that he’s done. “Yeah, Jungkook, we fucked in his stupid Toyota that you hate so much and he choked me and I liked it. He did all sorts of dirty things to me. Is that what you want to hear?” The sardonic tone hisses at his ears, but he bites back his words, the sober part in him doing some decent good by shushing him. “No, Jungkook, we didn’t fuck. We haven’t even gone on a date, and I don’t even know if I want to, and you think I’m throwing myself at him.”
“But you wanna.”
“You’re being an idiot,” You admonish. “I’m going home. Talk to me when you’re sober.”
He has just enough time to watch you turn on your heel, march towards his door, when he scrambles to his feet. The weight of his words and actions finally seem to dawn on him, hitting him harshly in the face and in the heart.
“Fuck, wait! Wait━” he gasps.
He chases after you, hand reaching out to press his palm against the door before you can shimmy it open. He’s fortunate when you turn to look at him, though your arms are folded impatiently over your chest.
“You’re right. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad,” he promises earnestly. Then, he lets out a frustrated groan. “I just… What if we… Shit, what if we stop for right now? Y’know… Hooking up. Whatever this is.”
He gestures vaguely between the two of you with his hands, a wearied look plastering his face.
You hate to admit how his words seem to affect you. They bite at the air, leave you breathless as you gawk at him, but the harsh realization of it all is that you were never his to have and he was never yours. Hoseok had been right when he said these things were bound to come to an end ━ so why did it seem to hurt you so much?
A beat of prolonged silence passes between the two of you. Jungkook runs a hand through his chaotic blonde hair, digging the heel of his palm into his temple as if to rid himself of a headache he’s no doubt sporting. Maybe you’re waiting for a better explanation, but he gives none, and you don’t feel as if you have the right to ask why. He’s not your boyfriend, for god’s sake. It’s not like he’s breaking your heart.
Instead, you take a deep breath and say, “Okay.”
“Okay.” It’s all that he says in return.
So then why does it feel like he is?
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When Jungkook had promised that if your fling with him ended you would go back to being untainted best friends, he was apparently lying.
A part of you can’t believe the sheer nerve of him to ghost you in his traditional fuckboy ways, and yet he does. You suppose not entirely, at the very least. Part of it ends up with you being even more vexed by his sudden shift in emotion, and the tangible tension that rises between the two of you should have been dealt with properly, yet neither of you do anything about it, leaving your friendship stagnant and stale for a week. After all, how are you really supposed to go back to “just friends” when you’ve seen his dick one too many times?
You refrain from telling Hoseok, if only so you don’t have to hear him tell you he told you so ━ but you also decide to give Yukhei that one chance, and so you think Hoseok wouldn’t mind so much anyway.
Admittedly, when Yukhei asks to hang with you at Taehyung’s eventual party, you aren’t entirely too keen, but you accept it if only because you heard Jungkook will be there too. For the majority of the night, you don’t see the boy, and you spend the hours cozying up with Yukhei in a conversation that dulls you. As it would appear, it seems to bore Yukhei too, but you only notice that when he starts touching you on your waist and the small of your back. There’s a moment where he leans his head close enough to yours that you realize he’s trying to kiss you, resulting in an awkward encounter in which you push him away, palms on his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. The answer is obvious enough to you, but you don’t think you should tell him for his own dignity. That, instead, all you can imagine is Jungkook in his place. “Should we get out of here?”
“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”
You’re both fortunate yet horrified when you hear Jungkook’s voice. He’s standing just behind you, his own stare devoid of any emotion, though his brows furrow and his jaw clenches in a signature Jungkook manner that you know means he’s pissed. He hardly acknowledges Yukhei, nodding in his general direction. You don’t remember if you leave Yukhei there or if he leaves, or if Jungkook even gives a poor attempt of an excuse to the boy, but you’ve not so much as uttered a single word or let out an exhalation of air, when Jungkook ultimately pulls you off to the side where it’s just you and him once more.
“I’m not sucking your dick in Tae’s grimy bathroom, if that’s what you want,” You scowl once Yukhei is out of earshot. “You’ve lost the privilege that is my mouth.”
“That’s not━” Jungkook shakes his head, exasperated. “That’s not what I want. I just━ I’ll take you home. Please?”
You know the offer is much more than him simply walking you the route to your dorm, which you already know like the back of your hand. Yet, you don’t argue. Truthfully, it’s a relief when Jungkook lugs you out of the party. The entire venture back to your apartment is treacherous, in the way that you’re left sobering up enough to the point that your dizzying thoughts become more coherent. Hoseok is gone for the weekend at least, spending the days with his fiance, so you don’t have to worry about humiliating yourself in front of your roommate when it comes to Jungkook.
You’ve barely made it through your front door when you’re grumbling aloud, “What do you want, Jungkook?”
“I wanna talk,” he says firmly. “About us. About Yukhei.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” But that’s a lie. Talking to Jungkook, even despite masquerading your annoyance for him, is a blessing in disguise. You’ve missed the idiot, and hearing his voice. “Besides, you told me to give him a chance.”
“And you said you didn’t want to.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Yeah, you sure seemed like you loved it when he was trying to shove his tongue down your throat,” Jungkook retorts bitterly. “C’mon, Y/N. We both know that’s a lie.”
“You know, you’ve been a real dick lately.”
A sliver of a smirk tugs at Jungkook’s face. “I thought you love dick.”
Clearly, his poor attempt at a joke doesn’t land well with you. “Why do you even care so much if Yukhei and I get together? Stop acting so high and mighty and moral, Jungkook. It’s not like you’re some virgin saint. How many times have I heard you talk about all those girls you’ve fucked? And what was I? Just another notch in your belt this whole time?”
“What?” Jungkook gasps now, as if disbelieving you would ever think such a thing. “No! You’re not just another notch. I would never even think about you that way. And I haven’t had sex with anyone else but you this whole time and I easily could have.”
“Wow! Such a martyr,” You remark dryly. When you speak next, you meet his stare with your own crestfallen gaze. “I just want my best friend back.” Your words hurt him more than you think, but he can’t say he doesn’t deserve it. “You’re the one who tried to kiss me, then suggested we stop whatever it is we’re doing━”
Jungkook flinches. “I know.”
“Then you ignore me for days even though you promised nothing would change━”
“I know,” he says desperately. He closes the distance between the two of you, yearning to reach out and touch you. Instead, he clamps his eyes shut, trying with all his might to focus when the room feels like it’s spinning.
“And then you get mad when Yukhei tries to make a move. It’s like you’re jealous or something!”
“I am.” He can’t take it anymore. The words tumble from his lips in a rush that he hardly bothers to bite back.
“Because━ Because━” He struggles to form his thoughts into words, stumbling over his sentence. Fuck, he’s never like this. Even you can tell. He grits his teeth next. “I lean in to kiss you and you look at me as if I’m out of my mind. I just don’t get it. You don’t want me to kiss you but you let me put my dick in your ass.”
The taut line of your lip quivers as you break. “That was one time and you didn’t even get all the way in!”
“Y/N.” Jungkook hums now. He’s gazing at you a little softly, reaching out to place his hands on your waist. “Look, I know I’ve been an idiot. But lately, when I touch you, I fucking feel so alive and the thought of Yukhei doing anything with you when it isn’t me, who should be with you, makes me want to vomit. And when I wake up in the morning alone, I only want you next to me. And I can’t be the only one feeling that way. If I am, tell me. Right now. Please. I just wanna know why you won’t ever let me kiss you, but you let me do all sorts of things with you. Am I really that repulsive?”
Another moment of silence stifles the room. Jungkook is so close to you now, you can’t help yourself. You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting in the material as you lean your forehead out of frustration against his shoulder and he instinctively lets his arms slither around your waist, holding you to him. Then━
“I only made the rule because I don’t want you to kiss me unless you mean it,” You murmur into his chest. “Like really, really mean it. Like I’m more than just a notch in your belt. Because I want to kiss you so badly, and I’m already in love with you but then I’ll really be in love with you and I don’t want to get my heart broken.”
The anticipation kills you, awaiting his response. You refuse to lift your head, until you hear him grumble, “You’re so fucking stupid.”
The retort is filled with your typical jestering hostility as you finally look at him. But just as you do so, Jungkook’s reaching out to grasp at your face, rough hands all soft and gentle as they cradle your cheeks, guiding you towards him and smoothing his lips over yours until you melt like putty in his hands.
Kissing Jungkook, you deduce at once, is not at all how you imagined it.
It’s everything and more. You’ve felt his mouth on you before but in much different circumstances. Between your legs, on your throat, down past the valley of your breasts ━ and each kiss then had been feral, sloppy, rough. Now, it’s sweet and tender, the feeling of his lips as soft as how he makes your heart feel. And the butterflies━ god, the butterflies.
Impatient hands tug and pull at one another until you’ve both stumbled into your room and onto your bed. He’s clambered over top of you, lips struggling to not part throughout the whole ordeal, until he’s wedged himself between your thighs.
Only then does Jungkook part from you just enough in the next moment, lips brushing against yours, as he whispers ardently, “I mean it.”
Then he’s kissing the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, his mouth grazing along your skin in a feathery touch. His hands help you shed your shirt, and the bra underneath. “I mean it when I kiss you here.”
Then he drops his head to your neck, kissing at the base of your throat, before nipping at it lightly. “And here.”
Your hands come to thread in his hair, tugging at the roots. He burrows his face lastly in your chest, snatching the nipple of one of your breasts between his teeth. “Here…”
You’re so soft and supple beneath his hands, all his to love and explore.
“I want you, all of you,” he mumbles. “Only you.”
“Oh, Koo…”
A pretty moan tumbles from your mouth, and he could nearly cry. He had surely thought you were far past the point of enraged, far past the point of pensive words shaped in a heartfelt apology to bring you back to him. But then hearing you rasp his name ━ the little cute nickname that only you call him ━ makes him so goddamn remorseful.
He smothers your lips with his once more, groaning into your mouth. “I’m such a fucking dick. I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t say that,” You whine.
“I’m sorry,” he laments. He bites at your lower lip, suckling against it. “Please let me make it up to you.”
“You already have.”
“But I’ve been such a shitty friend,” he groans. It’s hard to focus when he’s pressing his hips against yours, the forming bulge in his pants straining against the inside of your thigh. “I should’ve known when to stop. I shouldn’t have even suggested the whole thing in the first place, because then I wouldn’t have messed us all up.”
“Jungkook,” Your grip tightens in his hair. “Jungkook━ I want you so bad. Just wanna be yours.”
“Yeah?” His breath is warm as it fans against your neck. You rub your core eagerly against him, throbbing pussy so close to making contact with his dick.
“Yeah,” You mewl.
“What do you want from me?”
“You. Wanna feel your dick in me, please,” Your fingers tug at the top of his jeans, prodding at the muscles on his abdomen. “In my mouth. Can make you feel better, Koo, I promise. Just wanna be your good girl.”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”
He lets you push him until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. Your limbs entangle with his as you shed the rest of your clothes, your own hands wandering up and down the front of his body after he’s tossed his shirt onto the floor. Then he watches as you shimmy your way down his body. You’re so zealous in pleasing him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick, head angry and red, dribbling pearly beads of precum down the shaft and over the bulging vein that lines it. You run your thumb over the tip and down, spreading the sticky fluid over him. He grunts in response, nearly jolting at your touch, as his head drops back against his shoulders.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls.
You pump him slowly, taking you time as your closed fist glides up and down his length. He shudders each time your hand reaches the base, and becomes so carried away with your leisure teasing that his eyes are screwed shut and misses the way you dip down to kiss at the tip of his cock. His eyes immediately flutter open, a flustered expression painting his face. You lap again at the head, saltiness coating your tongue, and you let out a simpering moan that has him quivering. And when you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down along his length, he swears he’s about to fall apart. Your eyes flicker upward to meet him and the moment they lock, so sexy and dark, he has to look away for fear of busting right then and there. He reclines back against the bed once more, his hand flying out to grab at your hair.
“You’re so good to me, baby,” he rasps.
He can feel the curve of your lips against his cock as you suck him off. You do so well, too. Puffing your cheeks out, taking as much of him as you can until it feels as if he’s hitting the back of your throat. Then, you’ll suck at the tip of his cock, tongue swirling rapidly around, as your fist rubs his shaft. It’s a beautiful mix, one that inches him closer and closer to his high, and each time you switch he has to hold it together to not let go so soon. He wants to enjoy it, needs to bask in it. Your pretty mouth doing such sinful things, making him feel as if he were in heaven.
“Shit━” His hips jut forward to meet with your mouth, accidentally hitting the back of your throat without warning. You gag a little, but don’t pull away, and when he apologizes to you hastily, you only moan in response. A thought pops into his head that has him beckon aloud, “Will you be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth? Huh, baby?”
You hum in approval, eyes shimmering with glee.
So, he plants both hands in your hair, grabs at the sides of your head, and as you hollow out your cheeks, he bucks into your mouth. He does it again and again, listening to your crescendoing mewls of delight, forming a sticky mess of drool and cum that spills onto your chin.
“God, you’re so good,” Jungkook grunts. He’s a complete wreck, eyes screwing shut, blonde tresses spilling into his lashes. The muscles in his abdomen twitch with each sharp inhale of air he takes, so mesmerized by the shape of your pretty mouth around his dick, like you were made for him. “Such a good girl, huh?”
He fucks himself into your mouth roughly, frantically. Tears start to prick at your eyes from holding your breath, yet you keep yourself together just a little longer for him, lashes fluttering shut tightly.
“All mine too,” Jungkook hisses. “Wouldn’t let Yukhei do this to you, would you? Fuck, I’m━”
With your head left immobile stuck in his grasp, you hum in disapproval instead. You know he’s close when you start to hear him panting breathily. When he cums, it’s with a fractured whine and in short hot bursts onto your tongue and down your throat. You swallow as much as you can and, when he parts from you with a resonating lewd pop, you wipe away with your knuckles at the rest of his cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth and onto your chin. Dark hooded eyes meet with yours, a mischievous glint captivating them. You crawl over to him, straddling his hips once more, chasing his mouth with yours. Your own lips are so wet, coated in saliva and cum, bruised plump, but yet you’re smiling so innocently past the way he can taste himself on his tongue.
A dazed thought pops into your head that has you murmuring wistfully against him, “Say it again. I like hearing you call me baby.”
“Hmm? What about when I call you my good girl?” Jungkook nips at your lips. He grasps at your waist, flipping you over until you’re on your back beneath him. “You treat me so well, baby; you’re my only girl, you know that.”
A contented sigh sounds from you as you rut your hips in thinning desperation to meet his, so close to rubbing against his dick nestled against his thigh. He licks at his fingers hastily, reaching between the two of you to press against your clit, rubbing leisurely at the soft bundle of nerves. He’s learned how to navigate your body after months of supposed emotionless fucking, but now? Now, he felt as if his heart may just burst through his chest. Every reaction you make to his every touch ━ the needy plea to have him make you his, call you baby ━ makes him want to see more, and more.
“Am I?” You ask hoarsely. He grasps at his dick, guiding his tip to your core, so slick and wet, glistening with your own arousal. As he pushes himself in with a hiss, he watches as you contort beneath him. “Nnngh, Jungkook━”
“Fuuck,” he groans. He sinks into you, spreading your thighs further and further apart, until his hips make contact with yours. His mouth attacks yours with a feverish passion, the rumble of his moans and your whimpers muffling against one another. Then, he remembers to answer your awaiting question, barely audible between the way his tongue lavs at yours. “You are. I’m so fucking in love with you. But I don’t deserve you.”
Your hands tug impatiently at his hair. “Stop saying that.”
“But it’s true,” he hums. He’s quick to start rutting at your hips in a steady yet agonizing pace, dick burrowing into your pussy as your walls throb and shake. He can’t help but watch, mesmerized as always by the way his length slips past your folds and disappears into you. Again, and again, and again, so lewdly destroying your pretty cunt. “Just want Yukhei to touch you all over instead, don’t you?”
“No,” You croak.
You spread your thighs instinctively wider apart, allowing him to sink even further into you until it feels as if he’s hitting you so far in your stomach. Each roll of his hips is punctuated by the crude noise of skin against skin, sending you spiralling.
“Want him to do all sorts of dirty things to you, huh?”
“N-No. Fuck, Jungkook━ Harder, please━”
“That’s what you said,” Jungkook retorts. Still, he listens to your pleas, snapping his hips into yours roughly enough to send you jolting back on the bed. His hands start to roam your body, pinching at your hips, then grasping ferociously at one of your breasts. “Want him to fuck you in his car, right?” His palm feels like fire as it slides up past your collarbones to your throat. “Want him to choke you.”
His hand comes to wrap around the underside of your jaw on your throat, thumb and index finger pressing against the pressure points there. He squeezes, though with barely any force, just enough to feel your rapid pulse beneath his digits in a way that makes you so suddenly hyper aware of everything he’s doing to you. Cock stretching you wide, palm heavy around your throat, mouth folding over yours. So caught up in the overwhelming sensations you’re feeling, you can’t tell if he’s genuinely upset with himself, though you suspect part of him is. You can sense it in the way he clings to you a little tighter, can see it laced within his dazzling pupils.
Jungkook huffs, hair flopping into his eyes as he grits his teeth and ruts his hips faster into you if only to see more of your pretty little reactions. Your jaw unhinges at the feeling, head falling back onto the pillows. “He could probably treat you nicer too.”
You shake your head wildly, fingers digging into the skin on his shoulders. “Just want you, Koo.”
“Still?” he asks. His grip on your neck fastens a little more, pure euphoria riddling all your senses and making you writhe beneath him. “God, you’re such a dumb little slut, aren’t you?”
You nod in your groggy exhaustion, the familiar burn coiling in your stomach, making your toes curl.
Jungkook feels your own high approach. Your walls are clenched so tightly around him, he has to sputter for air. “Could he make you feel like this?”
“No, Koo,” You whine. “Only you.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook growls. “Good girl. Gonna cum around my dick like the good little slut you are?”
Your hips ricochet upwards to meet his, relentless pounding into your core. “Please, please━”
Jungkook quickens his pace until you’ve deteriorated into absolute shambles, whimpering his name after each thrust. You tumble towards your high, cuming around his length as he burrows it into you again and again, and all he can think is mine, mine, mine. As you unravel beneath him, he slides his hand off of your throat and slithers it underneath you and around your waist, hoisting you slightly enough off the bed so that he can reach his own orgasm. He’s a little more frantic now, sloppy and restless as he pummels into you.
“Shit, baby━” he cries out. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good━”
As you come down from your high enough, you somehow manage to murmur drowsily, “Cum in me, Koo. Wanna feel it.”
You grab at his face, pulling him down to catch his lips on yours, and the thought is so tempting he can’t refuse. He gets so lost in your lips, cuming with one final slam of his hips into yours and a chorus of curses mingling with your name in whimpers. He rides out both of your highs with a few half-hearted thrusts, more concerned with kissing you in useless open-mouthed kisses as your own mouth parts with one last weary moan while he fills you up.
When he’s spent, he collapses against your chest, and you collapse onto the bed. It’s quiet long enough for the both of you to calm the shrill beat of your hearts when you feel Jungkook stir, moving to part from you, pulling his dick from your swollen pussy and planting a lingering peck on your cheek. He disappears momentarily but returns a few seconds later, towel in hand which he uses to wipe at your core now leaking with his cum and your heart croons at all his tender touches.
It makes you realize all at once that, god, yes, you’re so in love with your idiot best friend and he’s so in love with you.
He turns to look at you, an adoring smile dancing upon his lips when he sees your own radiant beaming face. You beckon him over and he relents, letting you pull him into your arms. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck as he wraps his own arms around you to tug you closer to his side. As your fingers come to rake through his sweaty hair, he cranes his neck to follow your hand and hear him coo against your neck, “That feels so good.”
A sudden thought crosses your mind that has you smirking smally to yourself. “Are we… Are we cuddling? Jungkook, I thought you didn’t like cuddling. Said it was, and I quote, sentimental bullshit.”
“I never liked it because it wasn’t with you. Didn’t wanna waste my time on someone that wasn’t you,” Jungkook hums, matter-of-fact. You can tell he’s a little embarrassed at the way you so casually taunt him about such an obvious fact, though he’s fortunate you can’t see him smiling like a complete fool. “And I wanna do all that sentimental bullshit with only you. Now, shush━” He scolds you playfully. “M’so tired and I just wanna hold you tight.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Your heart leaps in your chest. “Just promise me one thing?”
It’s only then that he lifts his sleepy gaze to find yours, apprehensive of any potentially looming severity in your words. “Anything.”
Instead, all he can find is the way you trace your finger along the details of his face, from his nose, to his cheekbones, down to the freckle under his lip with the hand that sports your friendship bracelet. “In the morning, when we wake up, you’ll still be here to hold me tight. And every other morning after that.”
His smile widens even more, if that was even possible. “Wouldn’t want it any other way. But━”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes sparkle cheekily. “Kiss me.”
So, you do, again and again and again; and Jungkook thinks, yeah, he certainly can get used to this.
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It takes you a month to cave in to Jungkook’s incessant pleas to fuck you to his sex playlist. You do it mostly to humour him, though part of you is a little bit intrigued at the thought.
Stowed away in his room, he eats you out to the choruses of sultry The Weeknd and raunchy Ariana Grande songs, fucks you to the likes of the Neighbourhood and Kim Petras while you’re on all fours, and you’re only half-paying attention to the music until you hear it. Admittedly, you almost completely miss it but you blame Jungkook and the way he’s making you currently feel, sprawled out beneath him, chests pressed flush against one another in a sweaty, sticky mess, breathy and glorious moans of your name filling your ears when━
“I had no choice but to hear you. You stated your case time and again━”
The dulcet chime of Alanis Morissette thrums about the room, a complete and utter shift in contrast in the atmosphere that has you immediately pausing.
“Jungkook.” But he knows what you set out to say even before you do, judging by the tone in your voice and the stifling smirk on his face. You gawk at him, biting at your lip to hide your laughter but you fail miserably. “You weren’t joking?”
He shrugs innocently, leaving you just as dumbfounded as you were two seconds ago. Instead, he says, “Gotta do what I promised then, don’t I?”
You quirk a brow. “What was that exactly?”
“Gotta give you the best orgasm of your life.”
“If you can do that to cheesy 90s pop, I’ll have your actual babies, Jungkook.” The effort is endearing and impressive, to say the least.
A roll of your eyes is met with a taunting roll of his hips into yours that wipes the jest off your face immediately. He grins like a madman, uttering a little stupidly, and a little ardently, “Say no more.”
Because, all things considered and joking aside, he wants it with you ━ the dazed daydreamy talk of a future together and kids, friendship bracelets, and cuddles in the morning. Because you mean the world to him and more. Because you’re his best friend, and he’s so madly in love with you.
Because he wants it all with you.
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ironicarmy · a year ago
bandslam I | jjk (m)
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↣ pairing: drummer!jungkook x guitarist!reader
↣ genre: college!au; rock band!au; e2l; angst; smut
↣ word count: 16.5k rip
↣ warnings: rough sex; hate sex; drunk sex (they are still conscious enough to consent); unprotected sex (be safe!); light exhibitionism; manhandling; spanking; mutual masturbation; degradation; hair-pulling; angry sex; jungkook has a big dick; he is also a huge dick; lots of profanity; fighting; kook and reader hate each other so bad frgjh; lots of communication but also not; i wanna deck jungkook in the face; namjin is a thing
↣ song recs: under pressure - queen // sugar, we’re going down - fall out boy // choke - i dont know how but they found me
↣ summary: Cocky drummer Jeon Jungkook has never been the type to hate on anyone. But when his best friend Taehyung unexpectedly leaves the band and leaves you in his place, he can’t really blame himself when he acts with disdain towards you. Not even when there’s a prize at stake.
↣ notes: this one is LONG overdue, and to make up for it, it will be a three-part series!! woot!! also, dedicated to @strawbxxymilk​ and ALSO pay attention to the songs they have a lot to do with the plot ehehe
and also tagging @hobisbeautifulass​​ @spookitokki​​ @ddaenggtan​​ @thinksshesawolf​​ and @bloodpotato​​
ACT I: Under Pressure
“You can’t do this, man!”
“Excuse me?”
Taehyung crossed his arms incredulously, the practice room going eerily silent. Jungkook’s hands gripped his precious drumsticks harshly as he sat up from behind the drumset, both Yoongi and Seokjin staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding before them.
“We are this close to getting in and you suddenly decide to just,” he flailed his arms wildly, hands still gripping the sticks, “leave? How could you?”
Taehyung seemed quite unimpressed, but honestly, his heart was racing a thousand beats per minute. Jungkook didn’t take notice of the sweat that stained the back of his yellow Hufflepuff tee, or how Taehyung shifted from one foot to the other. Hell, he had been meaning to tell them earlier, but how could he? Jungkook was right and he knew it. He felt awful, but he couldn’t let him see it. That would mean that he won, and Taehyung didn’t like to lose.
“To be fair, the festival begins next semester…” Seokjin began but was cut off by Jungkook’s hard stare. Taehyung smiled cockily and pointed at his friend.
“There you have it. There’s plenty of time for you to rehearse without me here.”
“Dude, we’ve been talking about this festival for ages-”
“Ages meaning ‘the beginning of the semester’.” Interrupted Yoongi.
“Fuck off, guys. You’re not helping!” Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, damp with sweat. Damn, they needed a better practice room that wasn’t Seokjin’s parent’s basement. “Tae, we’ve been practicing for so long, and now that we have a chance to attend, you fucking bail on us?”
“Hey! I am not leaving you.” Taehyung grimaced and stepped further. Jungkook did the same and now the two were head-to-head. He could see the sweat in Taehyung’s forehead. Yup, they definitely needed someplace else to practice. Arms still crossed, Taehyung continued. “I’m just spending a semester abroad in London, then I’ll come back, I promise.”
“That’s. Leaving.”
“I even thought of a replacement!”
Jungkook scoffed. “Do you seriously think finding a replacement will make this situation better? You’re deserting us!”
By now Seokjin was rolling his eyes at the sheer absurdity. Of course, Jungkook would complain about this.
"We're talking about my fucking career, dumbass. I won a damn scholarship and I'm not passing that opportunity." Taehyung said, his eyes now sorrowful. His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips as he shook his head in disbelief, Jungkook’s fiery gaze never leaving him. “I love you guys, but my career goes first.”
“So it’s more important than the band we started together? More important that all those years we spent in this goddamn basement sweating our asses off? More important than our music?” There were tears in his eyes now, and Jungkook’s voice broke as he kept talking, but he just couldn’t let it go. They had been dreaming about starting a band since they were ten, and now Taehyung was leaving it all behind for a stupid scholarship.
“I fucking told you it’s only six months! It’s temporary!” Exasperated and not knowing what to do, Taehyung began pacing around the room in a fit of panic. He did not mean to make Jungkook cry. He did not mean to piss him off like this. But he did. And now he knew that it was going to be near-impossible for Jungkook to forgive him. “As soon as I get back everything will be normal again-”
Jungkook’s dark gaze almost ended him right then and there. Taehyung knew that there was no going back from this, he had betrayed them, all of them, not just Jungkook. “As soon as you come back we’re done.”
Jungkook must have sensed his confusion then because he made sure to drive the point home with his next words. “If you think your career is more important than your band -than your fucking friends- then you can fuck off. Because I don’t want to see you again.”
If the room had been silent before, now Taehyung was sure he could hear his own heart breaking into little pieces. He turned to look at Yoongi and Seokjin, who just stood there, immobile and refusing to meet his eyes, heads looking down in shame.
“I’m so-”
“Fuck off.” He heard Jungkook say, but he couldn’t look anymore. His eyes were filled to the brim with unshed tears. Taehyung knew right then that he fucked up, and that there was no getting out of it this time.
Trying to save the last bit of dignity in him, Taehyung meekly looked for his bag and made his way to the stairs that led to Seokjin’s living room, wiping the scalding-hot tears that ran through his cheeks with the back of his hand. He took one last remorseful look back at the basement that held so many good memories of his time with the band; all those summer days rehearsing their favorite songs, all those winter nights challenging their minds to compose their own material, all for naught. With a knot in his throat and an aching chest, Taehyung left the basement.
That was in May.
Now that the semester was over, Jungkook, Yoongi, and Seokjin had one month to find a replacement good enough to fill the vacant spot Taehyung left, and so far, the audition process had been disastrous. One week after Tae left, the trio had opted for posting the audition call on their Facebook page and their personal Instagram accounts, and while a lot of people arrived at Namjoon’s café, most of the auditions were… subpar, to say the least.
Jungkook honestly felt like Mrs. Darbus during that High School Musical audition scene: drained, stressed, bored, and very offended at how people were butchering Stairway To Heaven without so much as a little bit of respect. One guy thought it would be a good idea to audition with a Nickelback song. Yoongi dismissed him as soon as he even began.
With closing time nearing, Seokjin took a sip of the cappuccino Namjoon had prepared for him, scanning through the names in his laptop and his notes on the little pad he had brought. “Only two people left and we’re done.”
As Yoongi scribbled in his notepad, Jungkook scoffed indignantly, “This is pointless.”
His confession was met with silence, maybe his friends agreed with him. But behind the counter, wiping clean the wooden surface, Namjoon retorted with a laugh. “Funny how you said the complete opposite this morning.”
“This morning I didn’t have a headache and a burning desire to kill the first person who disrespects Led Zeppelin one more fucking time.”
“Maybe if you stopped bitchin’ around-”
“Alright, stop it you two!” Exclaimed Yoongi, dropping his pen on the table rather brusquely. “This day’s been shit and we all know that but we’ve got two more people to go, and if we don’t finish this soon, I swear I’m gonna murder each and every one of you.” He said, gaze scanning the almost empty cafe before landing on Seokjin.
“The fuck did I do?”
The next person didn’t even show up.
There sat Jungkook, looking like a fool, humiliated by Namjoon’s sarcastic laughter, irritated by Seokjin’s constant whining, driven mad by Yoongi not doing anything. He was losing his mind and he knew it. The cafe was dead silent as they debated on whether calling the last person in or not.
As Jungkook took a few calming breaths, the pesky, antique grandfather clock that stood in a corner opposite him began its incessant chant, marking 9 o’clock. With each passing ding, Jungkook glared at Namjoon, who only responded with a shit-eating grin that made him clench his fist tightly.
“Maybe we should go-”
“Let the other contestant through-”
“I wanna go home-”
The three friends stared at each other quizzically before bursting into laughter. At least the tension died down a little, Jungkook thought.
Yoongi wiped a stray tear from his cheek. “So I think we should let the last one through.”
Seokjin groaned. “Aren’t we too tired to even finish? Maybe JK was right. This is pointless.”
Yoongi shook his head adamantly. “We don’t know what’s out there. Maybe the next person can be our saving grace, for all we know.”
“He has a point,” said Namjoon behind the counter. “And it’s just one more person, how bad can it be?”
His answer was met with silence before Seokjin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine.” He relented. “Let them through.”
Namjoon smiled and walked over to the front door, opening it with the sound of the doorbell ringing in Jungkook’s ears, making him wince. His headache wasn’t getting any better.
In came a feminine silhouette clutching a leather case emblazoned with multiple stickers. From the golden inscription, Jungkook saw it was a Fender. He smugly wondered if you had a generic Strat inside of it. As you stepped closer, he inspected you a bit more. Dark wash jeans, black hi-top Chucks and a Nirvana t-shirt tucked into your jeans with the sleeves rolled up. Generic. Bland. A walking cliché. Your hair was neatly tied up in a high ponytail, and your face was framed by some big, wide retro glasses that most probably were fake. He'd know because he had exactly the same pair.
"Hi," you said, a shy smile revealing your pretty teeth.
"Hi," Seokjin replied and gestured for the rest to do the same. He scanned his computer briefly. "Y/N, right?" You nodded. "Alright, then, what have you prepared?"
You fumbled a bit with the case before putting it down, opening it and taking out an acoustic guitar. Jungkook wasn't honestly expecting you to audition with one, but hey, you never know, right?
You looked around before pulling a nearby chair and sitting on it. Jungkook looked puzzled at his friends for a moment.
"Ok, so," you began, cracking your fingers, "I play mostly classical, but rock music is my passion, honestly. So I decided to combine both a little bit. I'm doing a fingerstyle rendition of The Unforgiven."
Yoongi also looked a bit puzzled. "Metallica, right?"
You nodded, taking a deep breath, waiting for Yoongi or anyone else to give you the go. "Please start." He said, and you began.
The first few rehearsals were tense.
Ever since you received a call from Yoongi saying you got in, you’ve had this weird feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach. Perhaps it was the disdainful stare Jungkook gave you since day one, yeah, that’s what it was. You could feel the annoyance radiating off of him every time you were near, and frankly, it was beginning to rub off on you.
You practiced in Seokjin’s basement almost every day of the week since the due date for the Bandslam applications was nearing, and the festival itself was in September. Now that all of you had free time, rehearsals now lasted longer, usually ending with a mandatory visit to Namjoon’s cafe for some refreshments. As the days passed, the routine now came naturally to you: rehearsal at Seokjin’s at three in the afternoon, practice one song over and over again, banter with Yoongi, banter with Seokjin, then practice another song over and over again until it was perfect, then banter some more, try to make it through Jungkook’s snide remarks about your tempo, try to hold off your tongue on his tempo, practice some more, go to the cafe.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
To be fair, Taehyung was right. You remember making a bet with him in May, about how the news of his semester abroad wouldn’t sit well with his bandmates, how he told you over a coffee how the fight went, how he begged for you to audition and take his place.
“It just feels right. Natural, even.” He had said that Wednesday afternoon when you asked him why you, of all people, had to audition, bringing a cup of coffee to his lips. “You see, we’ve been friends for a long time, they don’t know you, but I do, and I trust you, Y/N. You’re talented, and you know more about music than I’ll ever get to. Besides, we have the same music taste, it’s a good fit.”
What he didn’t tell you, though, was how fucking annoying Jungkook was when it came to you.
“...and what pisses me off the most is that I can’t really complain because Jungkook is the best fucking drummer in the entire university, and Yoongi and Seokjin can’t stand to watch another fight take place.” You said while laying on your bed late one night, your phone resting on your belly on speaker mode.
“But do they know it bothers you?” Said Taehyung on the other side. “What does he do anyway?”
“More like what doesn’t he do.”
“The fuck?”
“He never says ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’, he always fucking comments on my tempo when he’s the one who’s off, usually comes in late, mocks anything I say, refuses to talk to me directly outside of practice, and once called my Black Sabbath shirt ugly.”
“Okay, what the hell? He listens to Black Sabbath too, how could he-”
“Okay, okay, sorry… But seriously, that is kinda worrying, he’s never acted like that. Not in front of me, at least. Have you talked to Yoongi? Or Jin?”
“Of course I have and they said they’ll talk to him but he hasn’t changed a bit. And this has been going on since I auditioned. He doesn’t take me seriously, Tae.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line, you could only hear his deep breaths. “How long until you have to send the audition tape?”
“That’s tomorrow.” You muttered, eyes rolling to the back of your head in dread.
“Wait, really? That fast? What song are you playing?”
“Yoongi really wants to do Sugar, We’re Going Down, and I backed him up… Buuuut Jungkook is very adamant in fucking playing Wonderwall of all things and Seokjin played the devil’s advocate and we still haven’t decided. Yaaaaay.”
“Yeah, tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day.”
After much deliberation, Seokjin and Jungkook ended up caving in to you and Yoongi’s bickering, and you were now setting up the camera to record your rendition of Fall Out Boy’s Sugar, We’re Going Down. The video was supposed to be uploaded to YouTube and sent to the music faculty members from the university, and the results for the festival line-up would end up getting published in the department’s web page the next Friday.
So as you meticulously tuned your guitar --your trusty foam green Telecaster-- everyone else around you was warming up. Yoongi was busy plugging his bass to one of the amps, Seokjin mindlessly strumming an arpeggio in his black Les Paul. Jungkook cockily fiddled with his drumsticks while pacing around the basement, having nothing else to do.
Behind the camera stood Jung Hoseok --a friend of Yoongi’s and the owner of said camera-- setting up the equipment and making sure everyone looked good, and Namjoon, Seokjin’s longtime boyfriend, who came for moral support.
Needless to say, you were pretty anxious. Last night’s phone conversation with Taehyung had left your mind reeling and you couldn’t sleep well. The fact that none of your bandmates knew of your friendship with Taehyung also consumed you. What if they found out? Would Jungkook kick you out just like he kicked out Tae?
“Guys let’s just run this by one more time before filming. Make sure it’s perfect!” exclaimed Seokjin from his position on the other end of the room. Jungkook quickly ran past you to sit behind the drumset, both you and Yoongi springing up to your positions as well.
As Namjoon and Hoseok watched, Jungkook began the countdown that kickstarted the whole song. The initial beat came out fine, but it’s when you hit the chorus that you felt Jungkook dragging the beat just for a millisecond -- but a millisecond in this business could cost you your career. It was then that you turned around and sneakily scooted closer to him, your fingers automatically playing the chords you knew by heart.
He looked at you quizzically as you got closer before you mouthed silently at him to go a bit faster, which in turn confused him and he shot you back a weird look. You tried twice more to make him understand but it was in vain, so you left him hanging and resumed playing normally in time for the bridge.
When the song ended you turned to him, now with the room almost silent. “You were dragging.”
He scoffed. “No I wasn’t, you were rushing.”
“Kook, you’re supposed to be carrying the rhythm, and you were dragging.”
“Was not. I don’t know if you know this, sweetheart, but I’ve been playing the drums since I was twelve, and I for sure wasn’t dagging. You were playing too fast. You always play too fast.”
You sighed at his stubbornness, whistling at Yoongi and signing for him to come over and back you up. “Yoongs, was Jungkook dragging the beat or not?”
He looked a bit taken aback by the question, running a hand through his hair. “Well, yeah, a bit, but nothing you can’t fix, right Kook?”
Jungkook glared darkly at you and you shivered. “Yeah, I can fix it.”
Yoongi either didn’t notice the way Jungkook looked at you or he ignored it because he clapped his hands together and stated the following: “Great! Let’s run through it one last time so that Kook can get the tempo right and then we film. Shall we?”
It was about 5:30. The cafe was almost full and Namjoon was busy scolding his employees for accidentally fucking up Seokjin’s order, typical of a Friday afternoon. Only that this wasn’t an ordinary Friday afternoon. The audition results were to be published in exactly thirty minutes, and only ten bands were supposed to make it through. Also, if Yoongi’s sources were to be believed, rumor had it that around forty different bands in the vicinity auditioned for a spot at the festival, so now the excitement --and nervousness-- increased tenfold between the four of you (five if you counted Namjoon, or even six if you counted Taehyung whom you always kept up-to-date now that he was out of the country).
Speaking of which, the four of you sat on a booth close to the window overlooking the street, where you knew the wifi signal was strongest. Yoongi kept refreshing the page every five or so minutes, next to him Jungkook sipped quietly on his mango smoothie. Seokjin and you were busy scrolling through a very juicy Reddit thread on the opposite bench.
Suddenly your phone, that laid on the table while you spoke with Seokjin, rang loudly. The familiar tune of Girls’ Generation’s Gee alerted your brain that it was Taehyung calling from London, and then you panicked, because obviously no one from the band knew about your… association with the man. So when it rang, your hand darted to pick it up quickly, only for you to accidentally knock it off the table.
In a sudden but very untimely act of decency, Jungkook bent over slightly to help you retrieve it, spotting Taehyung’s name followed by a purple heart as he quietly gave the device back to you. His bambi eyes were blown wide open like saucers, and if you were his friend, or even if the situation were less awkward, you’d say he looked cute. But it was the opposite. He looked like he’d seen a ghost and then tried to convince himself that ghosts aren’t real. Unfortunately for you, Yoongi and Seokjin had also caught on what was happening, but you managed to delay the inevitable by just a few moments when you left your table to answer the still ringing phone.
“Bad timing.” You immediately say after picking up, exiting the cafe and letting the afternoon breeze hit you.
“What do you mean bad timing? I thought the results were up?” Taehyung retorts on the other side of the line.
“Not for another…” You check your watch. “Ten minutes or so… You really have bad timing, Kim Taehyung.”
“What? What did I do?”
“I was with the guys and then you called me and then everyone saw your contact name. I am fucked, thanks to you.”
“Wait, you didn’t tell them? What the f- But I told you not to keep it from them!”
“What was I supposed to do, Tae? Jungkook hates my guts for whatever reason and if I told them I auditioned because you asked me to, your band would be a guitarist short as we speak.”
“So you do know Taehyung?” A soft voice reached from behind you. You spun around to meet Jungkook’s gaze, with Yoongi trailing not far behind him with a desperate look on his face. Jungkook, on the other hand, looked furious, arms crossed and a deep scowl that seeped into your memory. If he hated you then, now he probably wanted to end you.
You briskly ended the call and shoved your phone back in your pocket. “I can expl-”
“Explain what?” He interrupted harshly, voice laced with venom, making you jump from the sudden angry tone of his voice. Taehyung had explained to you how the discussion affected his friendship with Jungkook, but you couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much damage had been done.
Yoongi placed a hand on the younger’s shoulder, motioning for him to calm down with a soft gaze, then he looked at you and silently made you all follow him back into the cafe. Once again in your seats, you saw Seokjin with his arms crossed, and both Yoongi and Jungkook eyeing you deceitfully.
“Why was Taehyung calling you?” Jungkook fired as he sat down, with both Jin and Yoongi motioning for him to relax.
“It could be any Taehyung for all we know-” Seokjin defended.
“No, I heard her talking to him. He asked her to audition.”
Yoongi and Seokjin exchanged glances and then looked at you worryingly. “Is this true, Y/N?” Yoongi questioned.
You nodded. “Look, I’m gonna be honest here,” you sighed as you leaned back into your shared bench. “When you had your fight with Taehyung, he called me crying not knowing what to do. Guys, he was devastated, I’d never seen him so… I don’t know. Sad? Remorseful? I don’t even know what you said to him, but I know that he’s spent the last month moping around in London lamenting himself.”
“What are you? His girlfriend or something?” Jungkook scoffed, earning a soft kick in the shin courtesy of Seokjin. “How do you know him?”
“Taehyung is my one of my closest friends. He asked me to audition when he saw the call on Facebook, since I’ve played guitar far longer than he has.” You explained calmly, trying your best not to look anyone in the eye, guilt eating at you. “That’s it! I swear to God I was going to tell you, but Jungkook’s being an asshole most of the time and I was afraid he’d kick me out just like Tae and I didn’t want to disappoint him.” You rubbed your temple in a desperate attempt at soothing your nerves, but you still feel your heart caught in your throat and your head pulsating.
When no one else answered, you sighed deeply and made a motion to stand from your seat. “Look, I get it if you’re mad at me for not telling you, and for that, I’m sorry, I really am.”
“Yeah, right.” Jungkook scoffed, earning him another kick in the shin, this time from Yoongi, to which he cast his death glare.
“You did nothing wrong,” said Yoongi, his hand catching your wrist in a desperate attempt to get you to stay. “I get why you did it. You should’ve told us earlier, but I get it.”
You eyes scanned the table and met with Seokjin’s, who nodded in agreement. Jungkook, however, hung his head low, refusing to look at you. Yoongi seemed to understand your worry, “He’ll get over it.” He brushed off, and you sat down again next to Seokjin.
Before anyone could speak any further, Namjoon approached your table with his phone in his hand, cheerfully sandwiching you between him and Seokjin, cutting off any previous tension.
“Did you check out the results yet? It’s already six and I’ve been refreshing the page for the past two minutes and I’ve come up with nothing.” He asked and the four of you eyed each other quizzically, having forgotten about the very reason you were in the cafe today. Yoongi’s eyes blew open and he rushed to get his phone out of his pocket. Snapping from the confusion, you, Seokjin and Jungkook proceeded to do the same.
“Aha!” Seokjin exclaimed as he logged in without much hassle. Your phones were talking too much time to load. Placing it on the table before you, you peaked as he scrolled down the list. Yoongi, Jungkook and Namjoon followed suit, palpable tension filling the air as Seokjin kept scrolling. Abruptly, he stopped and froze, eyes as big as saucers. The rest of you kept silent, waiting for him to speak, but no words came from him.
"Uhh, Jin?" Jungkook said, poking his bicep to elicit a response from him.
"We got in." He mumbled absentmindedly.
It was your turn to remain speechless. Jungkook's eyes widened like Seokjin's, and Yoongi could barely stare at the phone, mouth agape. Namjoon, however leaped from his seat, beaming excitedly.
"YOU GUYS! YOU DID IT! Ugh I'm so happy I could kiss all of you right now!"
"Please don't," said Jungkook shaking his head in disgust, bambi eyes still wide open.
"Holy shit, we did it, we're in." Seokjin ran a hand through his hair and sighed, locking his phone and placing it back down on the table with a huff.
"Hard work pays off, that's what Taehyung used to say."
At the mention of their former bandmate, tension immediately loomed over the table. Yoongi knew then that he regretted ever speaking as he watched Jungkook's expression turn sour and your gaze fall.
"Yeah, he said that all the time." You said, trying to alleviate some of the tension, but Jungkook just sighed and left the table, citing a sudden need to use the restroom. Namjoon stood up awkwardly and left to tend more clients while you chased Jungkook with your eyes. Yoongi took notice of your evident discomfort.
"He took it pretty bad when Tae left." Yoongi admitted, grabbing your attention. "Can't stand it when someone mentions him."
You shook your head in disbelief. "But why?"
"He's insanely loyal, and when Tae said he was leaving he took it as an act of betrayal." Seokjin interjected.
"More like treason," commented Yoongi.
"He doesn't have to be mean about it, though." You pout, crossing your arms.
Yoongi chuckles. "We've already talked to him about that."
You scoff. "Yeah but it's like he's hardwired to hate me as soon as his eyes land on me."
Seokjin shakes his head. "He doesn't hate you. He hates that you've filled the void Taehyung created."
You cocked an eyebrow. “You think so?”
Yoongi shrugged. “We’ve known each other for years. Plus, if you think about it, there’s no other plausible explanation for his disdain for you. He only met you when you joined and Taehyung left, so it was at the worst possible moment. He was full of rage and hurt, and to see you just waltz in here after everything the four of us have been through, well… It’s bound to sting.”
“But you don’t feel like that.” You assumed.
Seokjin shook his head. “Sure, Taehyung’s departure took a toll on everyone, but Jungkook was closest to Tae, and he’s the youngest, and a tad immature anyway.”
Yoongi nodded in agreement. “Very headstrong and stubborn.”
You sighed, not knowing what to do with this information. Seokjin gently patted your shoulder and offered a warm smile. “Hey, don’t get frustrated, you have us. We love you to have you here, honestly.”
Arms crossed, you retorted. “Yeah, but he doesn’t, and quite honestly, full disclosure, I can’t stand him. Don’t get me wrong, I like you guys a lot, and you’re great musicians… But I can’t be in a band if the environment is this hostile. Either you guys tell him to back off and stop being such a pain in the ass or I quit… Because I’m tired of it.”
Your sudden outburst left the two men speechless, not knowing how to respond. Truth be told, you were tired of clashing with Jungkook, and if he weren’t so hostile, maybe you could be friends with him. Maybe.
Namjoon suddenly arrived, whistling a simple tune, carrying a tray full of pastries and gingerly placing it on the table. The three of you turned to look at the tall man as if he were an alien, the mood of the conversation totally ruined (though you appreciated the lack of tension). Namjoon merely frowned out of confusion, unaware of why your faces looked so uncomfortable.
“I hope you weren’t kicked out of the band because of me,” said Taehyung the next morning. You were still snuggled in the comfort of your bed, hair everywhere and a groggy voice to match. Taehyung was busy eating ramen on the other side of the screen, his phone propped somewhere on his desk as he gorged on the sodium-filled instant noodles. He had papers scattered everywhere as he was trying to solve an equation far too difficult for his alleged ‘pea-sized brain’, so to save himself from his head exploding, he decided to FaceTime you in order to apologize for the mild inconvenience he caused the day before.
“I wasn’t, they took it surprisingly well, even Jungkook.”
“He did?”
“Well, I mean, he was pissed off, obviously, but he didn’t try to, like, choke me or whatever so I’m cool with that.”
Taehyung sneered, mouth full of ramen. “You have pretty low standards for how a person should act when angered.”
“Oh, come on, you know how he gets. What I’m trying to say is that the boys were able to calm him down and everything’s fine for now… Though I had a stern talk with Yoongi and Seokjin after.”
“What did you say?”
“I gave them an ultimatum. Either Jungkook behaved his ass or I left the band.”
He grinned. “Good one. Do you think it’ll work?”
You shrugged. “I mean, I trust the guys to talk to him, whether he’ll listen is a whole different topic. But I hope he does, or else…”
True to their words and promises, whatever Yoongi and Seokjin drilled onto Jungkook’s head somehow worked. Sort of. When you arrived at Seokjin’s basement, the air felt different. Lighter, so to speak. Jungkook didn’t greet you, as usual, but he also didn’t berate you, or insult you, or tease you, so you considered this a win. A step forward.
Rather, he stayed indifferent to your presence, only speaking when it was needed, or when one of the members gave their opinion. It made the following rehearsals tremendously easier to bear, and though the tension between you and Jungkook failed to disappear, there seemed to be less animosity filling the room each time you walked in.
It all changed three weeks before Bandslam.
You’d finally gone back to classes, the four of you trying hard to keep rehearsing your setlist at every chance you could. Setting practice times at a convenient hour was difficult because your schedules were terribly different, with all of you studying different majors, sometimes rehearse overlapped with someone’s morning lecture, or Yoongi’s part-time job, or Seokjin’s TA gig, or Jungkook’s various study sessions, or even your own night classes. Needless to say, those were all busy times for you, but with some luck (and pulling several all-nighters) you managed to pull through with both rehearsals and your continuing education.
Now that you were confirmed contestants you were gearing up for the festival, a big concert set to take place September 30th at the biggest park in the city. Ten bands were supposed to play a setlist of three songs in front of a judge panel, and whoever won the contest obtained a one-year recording contract with BigHit Studios, the city’s hottest record label, and a star-making machine. To be honest, it was what Yoongi, Seokjin, and Jungkook wanted. You? You were just enjoying the ride. The fact that you got to make music and play with such talented people had you more than satisfied. It’s why you chose to major in music in the first place.
Coming up with the other two songs for your setlist was tricky. You already had your audition song, but rules stated that you had to present two covers and one original, yet none of you had any material to begin with. Granted, Yoongi was a contemporary music major, but songwriting was not his forte, even though he’d written some bass solos (he stated that one night late into rehearsal, when the four of you got into a fight over what you could come up with regarding the original song).
When you brought out the idea of holding a songwriting session that same night at the basement, Jungkook branded you as crazy. “Jin and I are not music majors like you and Yoongi,” he had said, exasperated. “We barely know how to play our instruments, and I can’t read music sheets even if I wanted to.”
“Paul McCartney doesn’t know how to read music sheets still, and look were he’s at.” You countered, arms crossed.
“You can’t possibly compare us to Paul McCartney, he’s Paul McCartney.” He whined.
“George Harrison couldn’t read music sheets either yet he composed Yellow Submarine.”
“We’re not The Beatles!”
“But we could be!”
“Enough!” Yoongi yelled, running a hand through his stark white hair in desperation. “Y/N’s right, we need to hold a songwriting session.”
“Yoongi, are you sure about that? Can’t we just use our old material? Or rework it or something like that?” Jin said through gritted teeth, fingers absentmindedly running arpeggios in his guitar.
“Our old material sucks and you know that,” Yoongi retorted, rolling his eyes. “If we’re doing this festival, we have to do it right. And that means doing something new, something that reflects us as we are, something the public loves too, don’t you think?”
You nodded, supporting the idea. “We could be the next Beatles, who knows? We could end up writing the next Yesterday.”
Jungkook scoffed, annoyed. “Yesterday isn’t even The Beatles’ best song.”
You turned to him. “Oh, yeah? Then which one is it?”
“Easy, Hey Jude.”
The sudden clapping of hands startled you both, prompting you to look at Seokjin who towered over all of you with a knowing glance. “That’s it! We can do Hey Jude as our second song.”
“Isn’t going from emo to classic rock a bit of a mish-mash?” You questioned, not really buying his suggestion.
Jungkook, miraculously, agreed. “Yeah that sounds a bit odd. I’m not ready to spend three and a half minutes repeating the same na na nas.”
Seokjin sighed. “It shows versatility.”
“It’s all rock!” Jungkook groaned.
“Then actually suggest something instead of complaining!”
“Well, we could drop Fall Out Boy and thrown in Led Zeppelin, for one.”
Yoongi shook his head. “Absolutely not. We have this one polished and we’re not throwing it away because of a hissy fit.”
You stepped in. “What if instead of classic rock we went for something more modern?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Like Muse? Or Imagine Dragons?”
Seokjin nodded carefully. “Yeah, that could work. Something bombastic, that people remember.”
“Please don’t say Believer, I’m fucking tired of that one.” Yoongi whined, rubbing his eyes and checking the time on his watch.
You closed your eyes and mentally searched your music catalog, hoping to come up with something you could all agree with. “Uprising? By Muse?”
Jungkook nodded. “Hey, you finally used your brains for once.”
“Ah, fuck you, I’m trying to help, unlike you.”
“Shut the fuck up, both of you.” Yoongi growled, pinching his temple. “It’s 2 AM, you’re giving me a headache, and if we don’t make a plan now I swear I will break your skulls with my bass. Do not test me.”
Silence fell inside the room, with Seokjin awkwardly coughing to alleviate the tension. Jungkook refused to properly look at you, and with a sigh you moved to put your guitar in its case, wanting to leave immediately.
Sensing you discomfort, Seokjin spoke. “So, Uprising?”
You collectively nodded in silence.
“What about the original?” You asked a minute later. Yoongi shrugged, not knowing what to do.
“Let’s meet at the cafe tomorrow. Yoongi, bring your songbook, I know you have one. We could use some of those grooves you have saved. I’ll look through our old jam session vids to see what I can salvage from that. Kook,” Seokjin paused, pointing at the younger man. “I need you to get creative. Pray to the drum gods and start improvising, record yourself and bring those recordings.”
Jungkook nodded, not really understanding his role. Seokjin turned to you. “Do you write?”
You stuttered. “I-I have a songbook… Some scribbles and melodies.”
“Cool, bring that too. Let’s write that damn song.”
The meeting the next day did not go as well as expected.
Granted, you had material to work on, but you and Jungkook just couldn't seem to agree on anything. Most of the afternoon was spent on Yoongi and Seokjin trying to prevent an actual physical fight between you two, as Jungkook kept on annoyingly criticizing every single thing you proposed. At the end of the day, you were left with a pounding headache, an even bigger disdain for the bunny faced boy, and a burning desire to just call it quits.
You called Yoongi that night to trash talk about Jungkook, given that out of everyone in the band he seemed to be the one who actually listened to you, and before you hung up he ended up giving you one of the best pieces of advice you were ever given.
"All that anger boiling up inside of you, try to turn it into something positive. Hell, you could even write a song about it, see where that takes you. Maybe it won't sound that bad."
And write, you did.
It didn't come to you at first, but when you started scribbling on your songbook late at night, the words just started pouring out of your fountain pen like rainfall. It was rough. It was raw. And it was cathartic. All of your repressed feelings for the boy that made your stomach churn and your head throb and your eyes roll, plastered and immortalized on notebook paper with blue ink.
The melody came to you while writing the hook, and it was glorious. Bombastic, catchy, irreverent, carefree. It all came from a mindless arpeggio on your guitar which turned into a full riff by the time you were done in the early morning.
You woke up at six after nearly two and a half hours of sleep, thanks to your alarm. But you didn't mind. Your brain still thrived on the adrenaline rush of creativity, with which you managed to go through your morning routine without passing out from exhaustion. You downed two cups of coffee before leaving for your 8 AM lecture, hoping that your creative rush wouldn't disappear and leave you drained.
By mid-afternoon, however, you felt like a train wreck, but that didn't stop you from barging into Seokjin's basement with your guitar and songbook in hand, shooting a smug look at the three men who stared at you as if you were insane.
"I made a song." You stated, a wicked grin on your face.
"You look like shit." Jungkook commented from afar, taking in your wild, untamed hair and dark circles around your sore, sleepy eyes.
You dismissed his comment with a roll of your eyes. "I haven't slept at all, but that's irrelevant because I wrote a song, and you guys are going to hear it, and you're gonna love it, and we're definitely going to use it for Bandslam."
Seokjin looked at you bewildered, shifting in his seat by the huge Marshall amp. "Well, enlighten us."
You nodded and got your guitar out of its case, Yoongi diligently bringing out a chair and a flimsy, metallic stand for your songbook. When you were finished plugging your guitar to the amp, you sat down and breathed deeply, opening your songbook and placing it on the stand.
"Ok, so the song is called Choke and it's about hating a person so bad you hope they bite their tongue and suffocate and die." You ranted, the several cups of coffee you drank that morning beginning to show through. Yoongi frowned, concerned. Seokjin just muffled a laugh while Jungkook furrowed his brows, fidgeting with his drumsticks.
"The melody is pretty easy, and I think it will suit your voice well, Jin, if not we could just dial the tone down a bit," you said, and with that began strumming. The harmony was chirpy, even a bit cheerful in contrast to the dark lyrics you spat out as you sang. You felt the song, and it showed. With every note change, every strum, you felt the meaning of the words take over your entire body, spouting macabre phrases that had your bandmates raising their eyebrows at you.
Jin nodded his head along to the beat, lips pursed as he tried to figure out the meaning of your lyrics, but enjoying the melody nonetheless. Yoongi, on the other hand, couldn’t stop grinning, internally realizing that his conversation with you the previous night might have led to this.
And then there was Jungkook, sitting on the far end of the room behind his drum set, arms crossed, hands clutching his drumsticks, staring intently at you, like he was trying to figure you out. Your eyes locked as you were getting to the hook. His smug gaze only made your stomach churn. It was like he knew exactly who the song was about. No, scratch that. He definitely knew. He knew that he gave you headaches, that he irritated you to no end, that he made you want to tear your hair off of your scalp from just hearing his stupid irritating voice.
And he fucking liked it.
You held your gaze defiantly as the song reached the bridge and went back to the chorus once more, refusing to let his intimidating stare bring you down. So you kept like that until the song ended, furiously gazing at each other, the tension in the room rising to unprecedented levels. From your peripheral, you noticed Seokjin shuffling in his seat, clearly in discomfort. Yoongi noticed it too, too focused on both of you to even care about paying attention to the rest of the song. You continued playing with fervor until the song ended and you strummed your last chord, never breaking eye contact with the drummer.
“So, what do you think?” You said, eyes trained on Jungkook as he smirked and leaned back, stretching.
“It’s shit.” He replied, fiddling with his drumsticks.
“Fuck you-”
“It’s actually good. I like it.” Seokjin interrupted, making you stop and turn to him. He was standing now, an annoyed grimace permeating his features. “I think it matches our set. Yoongi?”
Yoongi snapped from whatever trance he was on. “Huh? Yeah, yeah I like it. We can, like, tweak it a bit but it’s way better than whatever bits I was trying to connect. I say we throw it in.”
You smiled. “Good, it’s settled then.”
“Uh, I disagree-”
“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook, this isn’t about you.”
Jungkook sighed and stood up. “Need I remind you that you’re not the center of attention? Who are you to bark orders at me anyway? You’re just here as replacement.” He barked dismissively.
You stared at him, mouth agape, not quite believing what he was saying. His words stung horribly, and you felt a sharp pain shooting through your chest. You huffed in disbelief, grabbing your guitar and placing it on the floor before standing up and walking close to where he stood. He had his arms crossed defensively, still clutching his drumsticks as if they were a weapon.
“It’s not my fault Taehyung left, ok?” You said through gritted teeth, noticing how the mention of his former friend’s name changed his features immediately. He was furious now. “What the fuck did I ever do to you anyway? I’m just a replacement like you said.” You echoed bitterly.
Seokjin and Yoongi groaned behind you, already bracing themselves for another fight. It seemed that all everyone did in this band was fighting each other.
“Don’t you dare say his name.” He muttered.
“He’s my friend too! And you pushed him away!” You said, raising your voice a little.
Jungkook didn’t falter, running a hand through his hair in desperation. “HE FUCKING LEFT THE BAND!”
His sudden yelling startled you, but you couldn’t back down now, it would only mean that he had a power over you, and you couldn’t let him have that. “It was a fucking scholarship he worked on for months! Maybe if you weren’t a self-centered piece of shit you would have actually listened to what your friend had to say!”
Jungkook scoffed. “Me? Self-centered? Come on, Taehyung had many opportunities to tell us all about his scholarship, yet he didn’t, wanna know why?”
“Because he’s a shit friend who never fucking cared for the band.”
“That’s a lie, and you know it,” you countered.
“And what about you, though?”
You blinked. “What about me?”
“You’re the most arrogant, selfish person I’ve ever fucking met.” He spat. “Just walking in here, thinking that you own the place, barking orders at me… You’re a fucking know-it-all, aren’t you?”
You shook your head, already feeling the familiar sting of freshly formed tears welling up in your eyes and a lump in your throat that almost didn’t allow you to speak. “No, you’re just a stupid asshole that can’t get over the fact that his best friend is having the time of his life doing something that he actually loves. Just a sad, bitter boy who can’t accept someone new getting along with his friends.” Your hands were beginning to shake, whether it was from the rage or the copious amounts of coffee you’d ingested that morning was beyond you.
Jungkook only stared at you coldly, taking deep breaths to stabilize himself. You didn’t feel any hint of remorse at all for insulting him, in fact, you felt it was a necessary thing to do.
“Get the hell out of my sight.” He muttered, gaze now lost somewhere behind you. There was an absolute silence permeating the garage.
“Kook-” Yoongi began, trying to make him calm down.
“I want her out.” Jungkook interrupted. By now tears were calmly flowing down your face, but you kept your head held high, still staring intently at the man before you. He refused to meet your gaze.
“No.” Said Seokjin, a commanding, authoritative tone in his voice that you’d never heard before. You felt a pair of hands gently settle on your shoulders, and then realize that Seokjin was behind you. “She stays, and we’re using her song.”
“If you think you can bully her out of this band then you’re dead wrong. Grow the fuck up, Jungkook.” Seokjin interrupted, while your body began to shake from your quiet songs. He only held you tighter against him, but you turned around and wrapped your arms around his torso to shield your face from Jungkook. You absolutely hated letting him see you cry.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Taehyung was our friend too, you know?” Yoongi spoke from beside you, edging closer to the three of you until he finally laid a hand on your shoulder affectionately. You appreciated the gesture. “You’re not the only one who’s hurt, stop acting like this is about you. Did you ever ask us how we felt about it? No. Dude, we understand he’s your best friend-”
“Ex-best friend.”
“-but you gotta move on. She’s right. And, for the record, she didn’t do absolutely nothing to deserve the shit you pulled her through all these months. If anything, you should be the one leaving the band, not her.”
Jungkook remained silent, only your delicate sobs filling in the gaps. You wished it wouldn’t have come to this, but with all the stuff going on, your rivalry with Jungkook had to eventually reach its tipping point. You were just afraid of the fallout, because right now, things weren’t going so well.
Jungkook huffed and threw his sticks to the ground, angrily making his way to the door, but he was stopped by Yoongi, who roughly yanked his shirt to keep it in place.
“Sit down, dipshit, we’re talking this through. You’re not throwing a hissy fit again.”
That day felt like the longest of your life. Right after Jungkook sat down, you all looked for chairs and sat in a circle in order to properly talk. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, and you left most of the talking to Yoongi, who always had the role of peacemaker within the group, and Seokjin, who was just annoyed with your constant clashing and wanted to end it once and for all.
You talked and talked for hours, finishing well into the night and even deciding to collectively skip the rest of your classes in order to tackle all of the necessary points and hurdles. In part, you were grateful for the intervention, not having the energy left for fighting Jungkook’s annoying ass for much longer. You sat there for the most part watching as Seokjin and Yoongi scolded the shit out of him, head hung low as he took it all in, his expression unreadable to you.
It was mostly cathartic; you laid everything out on the table and explained in depth your issues, and so did Jungkook and the rest, but in the end you felt it did nothing for him to change his perception of you. Nothing truly changed between you the following days, except that he didn’t berate you or insulted you. Instead, he tried his best to keep things civil between you only for the sake of the band and the festival. Still, the animosity lingered every time one of you walked into each other’s presence.
Even so, you welcomed even the slightest change, being able to breathe for once.
After much talking, Jungkook relented and accepted the inclusion of your song into the setup, knowing full well that the song was about him, even if you hadn’t told him that. It was obvious to him and to everyone, almost like an open secret. But Yoongi, out of all people, loved the song, and even took his time to praise you one night after practice.
“I didn’t know you could sing that well,” He had said, stuffing his bass into its case.
You shrugged, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Eh, not as good as Jin, though, he’s a natural. I’m just trying to stay in tune.”
“Are you good with harmonies? We could use some background vocals for the song.”
You pondered for a moment, but nodded enthusiastically.
Even with Jungkook giving you a side-eye every time you talked, you could’ve said that things were going good so far. The song was close to being finished, a pseudo-harmony was finally achieved within the band, the setlist was coming together and looking fantastic. You were, after many weeks, pretty ok.
But then the gig happened.
Jung Hoseok, Yoongi’s friend who worked at a nearby bar and had lent you the camera for your audition, though it would be a great idea to score you a gig at said bar the Friday before Bandslam. To say you were nervous about it was an understatement, but Yoongi managed to convince you that everything would be alright, and that you were an awesome player, and that your voice was amazing, and that things would turn out fine. And you believed him. Sort of.
You invited some of your girl friends over to the bar that night, who were excited to get a sneak peek of what you had been doing for the past few months. Most of them were aware of what you’d been going through with Jungkook, even getting as far as manifesting their hate towards him without ever really meeting him.
You arrived earlier with your friends in order to get them a nice table with a decent view. Yours wasn’t the only band playing tonight, there were at least two more who would play after you into the wee hours of the night. According to Hoseok himself, those bands were also Bandslam contestants, but you were getting money and exposure, so really didn’t care much about it.
Wanting to loosen up as soon as possible, your friends ordered a first round of margaritas for everyone, and you downed the drink as fast as you could in order to get that kick you craved desperately. In front of you, your friend Lisa eyes you worryingly as you placed the fancy glass on the table, already feeling warmth spreading through your body and into your limbs.
“Wow, nervous much?” She said, the rest of the girls turning to look at you. You, sadly, nodded.
“It’s my first presentation since last semester, of course I’m nervous. Plus, it’s the first time I’m playing rock music in front of an actual audience, I don’t know why did I get myself into this, oh God.” You ranted, pinching your temple. “I think I need another margarita.”
“No, what you need is to get over yourself and toughen up. You’ll do fine.” Said Jisoo from your left, placing a finely manicured hand on top of your rough fingers with a gentle, knowing smile.
“And if that Jungkook boy gives you shit, let us know.” Jennie chimed in. “I’ll kick his ass for you.”
“Hey, that’s not nice.” Lisa countered. “He’s gotten better.”
You hummed in agreement. All of a sudden, you felt a light tap in your shoulder, to which you turned around and met Yoongi’s kind eyes. Your friends lightened up at the sight of your bandmate. Behind him stood Jungkook and Seokjin, their equipment in hand.
“Hey, show starts in half an hour, come to the stage for soundcheck in five.”
You nodded, before realizing your friends were in front of you and were glaring at you intently. “Girls, this is Yoongi, my bandmate and bassist, the tall one is Seokjin, lead vocals, and next him is Jungkook, drummer. Guys,” they turned to you, gaze fixed on your friends. “These are Jennie, Lisa and Jisoo. Lisa is a cello player, Jisoo a fashion major and Jennie is an english major.” You pointed at each of your friends, who kindly said hello before the guys awkwardly reciprocated and left for the stage, which already had some amps and a drum set. You collectively watched as Jungkook shed his bomber jacket, leaving him in only a tight white t-shirt that showcased his muscled torso and a series of tattoos in his right forearm.
“They’re hot.” Jennie huffed. “It’s not fair, Jungkook is hot, fuck it’s not fair.” She whined, sipping a bit of her margarita.
“I want to kick him and then have him fuck me against a wall, dear god.” Lisa groaned. “I can see why he annoys you. He’s so attractive it makes me wanna barf.”
“He’s not attractive. He’s an asshole.” You protested.
“I mean, yeah, he is an asshole, but a good looking one. Jesus, those arms look like they could-”
“Stop!” You interrupted Jisoo. “I get it, he’s hot, whatever you win. Let’s try and not point that out, please?”
Lisa blinked, confused. “Wait, you like him?”
You panicked. “The fuck are you talking about? He’s the biggest asshole you’ll ever meet, the fact that he’s attractive doesn’t lessen that he’s annoyed the hell out of me for months.”
Jennie just looked at Jungkook, who now ruffled his wavy hair and stretched before sitting behind the drums. “I’d still bang him, though. After kicking his ass.”
You huffed. “You need to get laid ASAP.”
Soundcheck passed without a hitch, and soon enough you were back at your table, this time joined by your bandmates and Namjoon, who came to excitedly support your first show together.
“So how did you two meet?” Asked Jisoo to a giggly Namjoon. He had his arm over Seokjin’s shoulder as the elder rested his head on his shoulder, nursing a beer in his other hand. Your show was supposed to start five minutes, and the nerves were starting to eat at you.
“Ah, well, we’ve known each other since high school… But I think we actually really noticed each other during my freshman year,” He said, gazing affectionately at his boyfriend. The girls cooed and awed at the pair, while Yoongi just chuckled and Jungkook, who sat in front of you, rolled his eyes. You took the opportunity to take a proper look at him. He had his leather jacket back on, but the taut muscles of his chest were noticeable beneath his white tee, even under the dark, atmospheric setting of the bar.
Suddenly, you wanted him to shed his jacket so you could take a closer look at his tattoos. You quickly shook your head, indignantly disregarding the thought. What on earth were you thinking? Sure, Jungkook was sort of attractive, you weren’t going to deny that, but he was a grade A asshole, and right now you couldn’t afford more problems for your poor mind.
Though if he weren’t such a jerk you’d most definitely sport a big fat crush on him.
Wait, no, that wasn’t right. You shouldn’t be thinking this way, and most importantly not about him, of all people. He was supposed to give you headaches, not make you blush. Speaking of which, he suddenly looked at you, catching you staring at him intently. You blushed, panicked, and diverted your gaze somewhere else, suddenly finding Yoongi’s watch interesting.
Jungkook smirked and leaned over to you, speaking so low only you could hear. “If you want a piece of me, just ask, babygirl.”
Though his sudden deep voice made your heart skip a beat (which it most definitely shouldn’t do when it came to him), you bit back a fake laugh and tried to keep your composure. “Ha! You wish.”
Jungkook was about to speak, but he was suddenly interrupted by Hoseok’s presence, who warned you that the show was about to start. Relieved, you grabbed your stuff as your friends bid you good luck. With a smile and blowing affectionate kisses, you left with your bandmates and climbed the stairs that led to the stage, each of you resuming your previous positions from soundcheck.
Hoseok was the MC for the night, so he got on the stage as well to cheerfully announce your band. The bar was packed, typical of a Friday night, and even though the reflectors blinded you a little, you could make out the girls plus Namjoon cheering for you. You smiled at the applause and took a deep breath, clutching your guitar tightly in an attempt to calm down.
“Alright, guys who’s ready to rock tonight?” Said Yoongi from his own microphone. The crowd cheered excitedly. “That’s what I want to hear. We’re gonna dive into some classics tonight, hope you like them.”
Yoongi stepped away from the microphone and gazed back at Jungkook, who was alert and waiting for Yoongi to count. “1, 2, 3, 4!”
The familiar beat of the drums filled your mind, and Seokjin looked at you expectantly. You knew this song like the back of your hand, letting muscle memory kick in as you played the heavy riff. You swear you never felt more alive than at that stage, feeling the music seep into your every pore as you sweated adrenaline with each passing second. Those butterflies in your stomach disappeared and were replaced with energy and excitement.
Seokjin sang and the crowd roared, your voices in sync and harmony thanks to your background vocals, melting into one, beautiful melody. Everything seemed to move in slow motion, your heart beat at the exact same time as Jungkook’s drums. The crowd chanted the lyrics to Sugar, We’re Going Down excitedly. Yoongi smirked, letting loose and bobbing his head to the rhythm. You did the same.
Then the song ended. Applauses and screams filled the packed bar. And the other one began.
The eight of you yelled over the loud music of the band that followed yours. They were a weird, hippie ska-punk fusion band that appeared out of nowhere, but then again, you guys were pretty unknown too, but you digressed. Pints of beer in hand, you clinked glasses and gulped down a hefty amount of liquid down your throats. You groaned at the bitter taste, but welcomed the warmth the alcohol provided you.
“Where the hell did you get this stuff?” Jennie coughed, grimacing at the dark, amber liquid and then at Namjoon, who ordered a round for everyone.
“It’s craft beer, educate yourself!” Namjoon half-yelled, half-laughed, trying to make his voice heard. Jennie shrugged and drank some more. By now, you were on your third round and you were already feeling dizzy. You usually were more resistant to liquor, but paired with the fact that you drank a margarita previously and you didn’t eat before coming here, well, you were bound to get smashed at some point.
“Ugh, I want a Namjoon in my life, where can I get one?” Lisa groaned, arms flailing around in mock desperation. The rest of you laughed, though Jungkook remained serious, gaze fixated on his beer.
“Sorry, this one is taken.” Seokjin laughed, planting a sonorous smooch to his boyfriend’s cheek.
“Ew, not in front of my drink, please.” Jungkook mocked, placing a hand in front of his drink as if to shield it. The two men laughed.
“Ugh, as if. You need to get laid, man,” Seokjin countered, causing his eyes to go wide. “Seriously, when was the last time you had sex?”
At the question, Jungkook looked taken aback, his cheeks going beet red. You smirked, glad that this time he was the butt of someone else’s joke. Jungkook shook his head, giggling nervously. “I, uh, I… Like a couple of months? I don’t know, man, I don’t keep track of that stuff.” He said dismissively, though you saw something click in that malicious head of his, and then he turned to you. “What about you, though? You look all innocent, but I bet you’re a real freak.”
You scoffed indignantly, while your friends only laughed at your misery. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” You countered, taking a sip of your beer as you eyed him coyly. There was something strange in his eyes, it meant nothing good. You saw him run his tongue through his teeth, the appendage poking from inside his cheek rather sexily. It might have seemed impossible, but you felt a warm tingle between your thighs.
Oh no.
Lisa laughed at your interaction. “Y/N hasn’t banged anyone for like, ages. She needs to get out more.”
Jisoo and Jennie only exploded in laughter, while Jungkook only smirked smugly at you, eyebrows raised. You shook your head incredulously, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t know my sex life was such an interesting topic.”
“Oh please, like there’s anything interesting about you.” Jungkook spat with a mocking laugh. The alcohol must’ve been getting to him, and now he was speaking unfiltered. You knew nothing good was meant to come out of this.
“Shut up, you’re insufferable.” You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair.
“How long have they been like this?” Jisoo muttered at Yoongi, who only gazed forlornly at you two, and sighed.
“Since day one. I can’t stand them.” He whined hiding his face with his hands, tugging at his hair in clear annoyance.
“Guys!” Hoseok chimed in, clipboard in his hand. All of you turned to the lanky boy, who wore a funky, striped neon shirt. “You gotta stay till the end of the last set so that my manager can pay you. You did amazing, by the way. And Y/N,”
You blinked confusingly, pointing at yourself. “Me?”
Hoseok smiled. “I have a break in fifteen minutes, let me know if you wanna dance.” He winked and with that left your table to attend other patrons. You stayed still, taken aback at the brief, yet unexpected advance.
“Correction, Y/N is definitely getting laid tonight.” Lisa joked.
“No, I’m not.”
“No, she’s not.”
A painful, awkward silence ensued after you and Jungkook talked. You were taken aback, and Jungkook looked like he’d seen a ghost. The weird exchange made you sober up, no longer under the dizzying effects of alcohol.
Jennie raised a brow and leaned over to Namjoon and Seokjin. “I sense a different kind of tension now.”
Seokjin dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand. “They are gonna fight like they always do, don’t fret about it.”
“Who do you think you are to decide who I bang and who I don’t bang? Huh?” You squinted.
“Oh come on, you don’t know Hoseok!”
“I do know Hoseok…” Yoongi muttered to himself.
“Wow, so now you worry about me? That’s a first.” You spat, grabbing your glass and downing what remained of your beer, grimacing at the bitter taste.
“Would you stop being such a bitch?”
“Hmm, I don’t know, would you stop being such a dickhead?”
“Alright, that’s enough,” interrupted Yoongi, grabbing both of your glasses and placing them closer to Jennie, on the other side of the table. “Don’t ruin this night with your bickering. We were having fun a couple of minutes ago.”
You sighed and pinched your temple. Yoongi was right, there was no use in fighting. “Fine,” you conceded. “But Jungkook has to apologize.”
He rolled his eyes. “It was just a joke, it’s not my fault you’re a sensitive little bitch.”
It seemed that everything stopped around you. Yoongi gulped, knowing where this was headed. The girls, along with Namjoon and Seokjin, only stared at you in sheer confusion.
“Say that again, I couldn’t hear you,” You demanded, leaning over to him, voice stern and fire in your eyes. Jungkook leaned over to whisper in your ear, an annoying smug on his face.
“Sensitive. Little. Bitch.”
“That’s it!” Before anyone could react, you stood up from your chair, going over the table to grab Jungkook by the collar of his jacket.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Yoongi and Seokjin lunged forward to you, yanking you back before you could even think of punching him. The girls yelped collectively, and suddenly all eyes were on you, the band still playing in the background. Jungkook freed himself from your grasp by tearing your hands off, alarmed.
“Let me go!” You yelled over the music, wriggling and tossing and turning beneath Seokjin’s grasp, who held you in a tight, restrictive embrace.
“Stay the fuck still!” Seokjin commanded, trying his best to not lose his grip on you. Yoongi stood between you and Jungkook, panting and huffing, clearly alarmed by what was going on. He briefly shot a glance at Jungkook to see if he was ok, to which he responded with a small nod, fingers ghosting over the collar of his jacket.
It was then that he noticed the people staring, to which he puffed his chest, a menacing look in his eyes. “The fuck are you looking at?” At his words, the crowd died down and went back to their own business.
Then, he turned to you. “Calm the hell down, we are in public!” He placed a comforting hand on your flailing forearm, squeezing the limb affectionately until you finally came down from your adrenaline high, heart still beating fast. Your vision was hazy, and all you wanted to do now was to sit down alone and cry.
“I want to leave.”
Yoongi shook his head. “We can’t leave until we get paid, remember? Calm down, I’ll get you a margarita, if you want.”
You felt Seokjin release you, to which you took a deep breath and embraced Yoongi instead, nestling your head on his chest. He patted your head sweetly and wrapped his arms around you. “I know it’s tough,” he said, low enough so you could hear. “But this has got to stop.”
“Yoongi,” Jungkook’s voice came from behind your friend, tapping him on the shoulder. “Let me talk to her.”
“Bitch boy wants to talk now, huh?”
“Uhh, I think you should let her calm down, Kook.” Yoongi said, shrugging. Jungkook shook his head in disapproval and tapped your shoulder instead, raising your head to meet his unreadable expression.
“Let’s settle this, finally.”
Brows furrowed, you hesitated. “Are you challenging me to a fight?”
“Fuck no, you almost killed me,” he admitted, eyes widening. He offered a hand, which you tentatively took, not knowing what outside force possessed you to do so. Maybe it was still the alcohol in you. “Come with me.”
Yoongi shot you an apologetic look before letting you go. “Be careful, you two, I’ll be watching.”
As you merged with the crowd, Yoongi sighed, turning to Seokjin and sitting back on the table.
“You think they’ll be alright?” Namjoon asked, wrapping his arm around Seokjin once more.
Yoongi, truthfully didn’t know how to answer. So he shrugged instead. “I just… I hope they won’t kill each other like before.”
“Y/N is smart.” Lisa said, to which the other girls shot her an incredulous look. “Sometimes.”
“I trust her.” Said Jisoo, fidgeting with her empty glass. “It’s him I don’t really trust.”
“I don’t trust either.” Admitted Seokjin with a sigh, leaving the table in an awkward silence, filled by ska-punk fusion music.
With the mood ruined, Namjoon innocently attempted to lift his friends' spirits by ordering another round for everyone.
You weakly let Jungkook guide you through the bar until you reached the bathrooms. He must’ve been in this place before, you thought, because he sure knew his way around here, or at least knew enough to figure out that there are only indiviudal bathrooms for each sex.
He opened the door to the women’s bathroom, making sure that no one saw him, and shoved you in there, promptly closing the door and locking it so that you wouldn’t be interrupted. You didn’t protest, however, too tired and tipsy to even bother. You looked around and were surprised to see that the bathroom wasn’t dirty at all. In fact, it was prettier and tidier than the one in your dorm. Jungkook seemed to catch this as well, looking around confusingly, his hand still wrapped around yours.
“Damn, this bathroom is prettier than mine.” He exclaimed, weirded out. You nodded, not knowing how to respond. The air was tense, that much was clear. Hell, you tried to beat the shit out of him less than five minutes ago, you were still wondering why wasn’t he mad at you. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable. Blank. Neither angry, or sad, or disappointed, etc. Just plainly undecipherable. Then again, you weren’t exactly sober, so that might explain why you can’t read him as well.
After a couple of silent seconds, with the music thumping on the other side of the wall, you decide to speak. “So now you wanna talk?”
“You’re lucky the guys pulled you back, we could’ve been kicked out.” He said, leaning back on the white concrete wall. You crossed your arms and leaned back on the marble counter behind you, facing him. For some strange reason, you knew he was right, but couldn’t concede that he was being reasonable for the first time in months.
“Why exactly did you take me here? This is the first time you actively want to talk to me, except of course, all the times we fight. Which is, let me remind you, all the damn time.”
His gaze traveled down to his shoes, whilst his hands fidgeted with the hem of his jacket. “I’ve never liked you. Since I saw you for the first time. All you do is annoy me.” He confessed.
“But why? I don’t get it. What did I ever do to you?”
“Nothing! That’s the thing! You do nothing and yet you’re standing here and seeing you pisses me off and all I wanna do is wipe that smirk off your face, because you’re such an insufferable bitch! You stress me out all the time!”
His sudden confession only made your blood boil.
“God, you’re so fucking immature. We’ve talked about this many times and you still don’t fucking listen. Seokjin should’ve just let me beat your ass and be done with it. You’re just salty your friends like me. Get over yourself, drummer boy, the world does not revolve around you.”
“Oh shut up. My life was fine as it was. You just had to come and ruin it!” He yelled, a vein popping in his forehead. You remained unfazed, having fought with him so many times his outbursts of anger no longer surprised you.
“Make me.” You dared. Jungkook merely raised an eyebrow. “Make me shut up, I fucking dare you. Coward.”
It seemed that calling him a coward was the last straw for him, as he crossed over to your personal space and cupped your face with both of his calloused hands, planting a hard kiss on your lips. You were surprised to say the least, hands on his shoulders trying to shove him back, but the effort proved to be futile, as his lips remained connected to yours.
They felt soft. You remembered how he meticulously applied cherry chapstick on his lips between songs, everyday during practice. Though they didn’t taste like cherry (he only tasted like the beer you’d been drinking), they were definitely the softest, pillowy lips you’d ever kissed. So you regretfully conceded, letting your frustrations melt away as you kissed him back. It was messy, wet, and angry.
That was mistake number one.
One of his hands tangled in your hair as you let his tongue delve into your mouth, exploring every inch of your cavern, tasting you and taking you in. Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer until your bodies were pressed tightly together, with almost no space to breathe.
You kept kissing until the need for air became too much. With soft grunts he pulled apart in order to breathe again, that fierce, smug look still on his face.
"What are you laughing at?" You inquired, hot pink lipstick smeared all over your face and staining his own mouth.
"I shut you up, didn't I?"
You rolled your eyes at his childishness. "It takes more than just a kiss to shut me up for real."
He cocked his head to the side. "Really?"
Your eyes widened. You didn't actually expect him to follow through, though in retrospect it seemed better to just toy with him for a while.
That was mistake number two.
You gave him a coy smile. "I don't think you could handle it."
He stepped closer to you, placing a hand on your hip. "Babygirl, I doubt you could handle me."
Like magnets, your lips connected once again, this time harder, faster, and more passionate (whether it's angry passion or not was completely irrelevant at this point). Your hands roamed the expanse of his wide, strong shoulders while his hand kept a steady grip on your waist, ensuring you wouldn't run away from him.
This was wrong on so many levels. People said that love and hate were two sides of the same coin, but you never actually thought something like this could eventually happen to you. Jungkook was your rival, the bane of your existence, and the fact that he was currently shoving his tongue down your throat and you were actually liking it, well, it was too much to process.
Unexpectedly, Jungkook broke the kiss in order to attack your neck, to which you couldn't help but respond with an involuntary moan. Your neck was a sensitive area, and sometimes even the lightest touch would send you reeling. Jungkook chuckled evilly at your moan, taking the new information into account.
"You're so responsive, damn. I haven't touched you properly and you're already this needy?"
"Ah, fuck you, Jeon."
He smiled. "With pleasure."
Without warning he resumed his previous work on your neck, finding a good spot right where it was most visible and sucking on it. All thoughts left your mind except that Jungkook was good with his mouth, and maybe having him eat you out wasn't that bad of a scenario.
His hand squeezed your ass over your jeans as he kept on sucking, palming the flesh as much as the material would allow. You hissed when the same hand moved to the front and began playing with your buttons. But before he could do anything, he directed his eyes onto yours for permission.
You didn't hesitate to allow him, and that was mistake number three.
Forcefully, he popped the button and unzipped the hasty zipper of your jeans, shoving that same hand inside your underwear, forgoing the usual teasing you were accustomed to, darting straight to your wet cunt. When his finger grazed the sensitive skin of your clit, you keened forward, cursing like your life depended on it. Your heart was racing a thousand beats per minute, and your vision (and judgement, and common sense) was most definitely clouded by alcohol.
“You like that, huh?” Jungkook asked, his ego flying through the roof. “What if I do this?” You felt him press the digit on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure, the grip you had on his collar growing even tighter.
“Fuck.” You whined, head resting on his chest for support (and also to avoid his calculating eyes, but you didn’t have to admit that). You heard Jungkook chuckle sinisterly above you before rubbing your clit in small, tight, fast circles that made your eyes slam shut and your heart jump to your throat.
He had the upper hand and you didn’t like it.
Forcing your eyes open and breathing heavily, you noticed the tent that had grown inside his black jeans, and an idea miraculously popped in your head. Mischievously, you snaked one of your hands down to his crotch, taking a hold of the bulge between his legs. Jungkook moaned in surprise, to which you lifted your head up to take a better look at him. The view shocked you, to say the least. He was biting his lip, with his brows furrowed and his eyes screwed shut, to which an immense amount of fulfillment crossed your mind.
Your touch didn’t slow him down, however, prompting him to move his fingers further down, teasing at your entrance. In retaliation you unbuttoned his jeans as quickly as you could and shoved your hand inside his pants to palm his cock over his black boxers. His cock felt big, thicker than you’d anticipated, and you gulped, feeling arousal drip from your cunt at the thought of having him inside you.
“Oh, fuck.” He said, letting out a low grunt. His eyes, now fixed on you, showed nothing but pure, unadulterated lust and desire. You grinned, relishing the power you held over him, but it didn’t last long, because by the time your fingers moved to the hem of his boxers, he slipped two fingers inside your soppy cunt.
You bit your lip to avoid modulating any sound to no avail. Jungkook knew how to work his fingers, curling them inside you and managing to hit those spots your fingers never could, bringing out noises that only less than a handful of people ever had the privilege of knowing. This was you at your most vulnerable, giving him access to something restricted. It was exactly why you needed to have the upper hand, to beat him at his own game, lest you end up hurt.
So then you slipped your hand inside his tight black boxers, properly grabbing his cock, only to discover that he was much thicker than you originally thought, your hand barely encircling the entire girth. How the fuck was that gonna fit inside you?
Jungkook must have sensed your inner worry, because he smirked and then added a third finger, stretching you open even more. Trying to keep your composure, you refrained from speaking, instead managing to whip his cock out from his boxers. Your eyes widened at the sight. He was massive. Bigger than any other dick you’d ever seen, including porn, and porn dicks were huge.
Despite the shock, you didn’t hesitate to wrap your nimble fingers around his dick, feeling the little veins that popped up, and the warm, velvety skin as you moved your hand up and down teasingly.
Surprisingly, Jungkook rested his head on your shoulder, panting and trying his best not to moan, the pace of his fingers never faltering. None of you said a thing, the only sound that plagued the bathroom was the weird ska-punk fusion band outside, and your ragged, irregular breaths and pants as you tried to out-do each other in an immature race to see who could cum first.
Just then, Jungkook curled his fingers once more, hitting a significant spot inside you that drove you closer to the brink of explosion, yet you sucked it up and took a deep breath, unwilling to let him win you over. Your pace slowed, opting for a slight twist of your fist every now and then, which surely left him panting even more, sucking in the air and letting it out through gritted teeth. You felt his nose tingling the exposed skin of your neck before his lips latched onto it, tongue licking and running over the skin. His teeth grazed over the wetch patch before sinking in and biting, not too harshly for it to hurt, but enough to leave a mark and make you whine in pleasure.
You felt him smirk against your neck, hot air leaving his nostrils and sending shivers down your spine. And it made you angry. Angry and hot and bothered that he had power over you, but having him finger you aggressively (as far as your restrictive jeans could allow) felt like heaven, and you didn’t want him to stop. Suddenly you wished things were different between you. Maybe if he wasn’t such an annoying prick you’d even ask him out on a date. But sadly, things never go the way you want them to.
Tired of thinking, you decide to wipe the thoughts away, maybe even lock them in a box for the time being. You were going to fuck him, and you were going to make him come just so he could see how much of a boss bitch you were.
With newfound bravado you released him and glided a finger over the tip, collecting the leaking precum and smearing it all over his dick for more friction. You felt him freeze under your touch, yet his mouth never left your neck, still biting and licking and kissing. So you wrapped your hand around his shaft once again, still not believing how your fingers couldn’t close completely due to the sheer size of his girth, and pumped him one, two, three times, resuming the pace you previously held, until you heard him hiss and moan thanks to your touch.
He withdrew his fingers from you in order to grip the marble counter, and though you missed the contact, you felt like you won.
But not for much.
“Fuck, I can’t fucking take it.” He grunted, suddenly gripping your hand and briskly turning you around so that your back faced him and you faced the mirror on top of the sink. You finally had the pleasure of seeing his fucked out expression, though you looked pretty fucked out too, with some teeth marks on your neck to boot. Both of your hairs looked like bird nests, and Jungkook’s lips looked red and swollen, with remnants of your lipstick staining his mouth and cheeks. You, however, looked like a very sad clown, your smeared lipstick reminiscing the result of trying to erase a red colored pencil on paper.
Jungkook’s hands on the hem of your dark wash jeans snapped you out of your trance, not even asking for permission before he yanked them down aggressively, stopping at mid-thigh, and kicking your legs open as far as they would allow.
A sharp sting on your right ass cheek startled you, a light whine leaving your mouth. Behind you, the familiar rustling of fabric let you know that he had yanked his pants down too, and that alone made you come down from your adrenaline high and become aware of what you were about to do.
“Uhh, you wouldn’t happen to have a condom lying around, do you?” You heard him ask from behind you, and suddenly you wanted to slap him.
He must have read your sour expression, because he continued before you could say anything. “I had one on my wallet but it has a hole in it and I don’t know why.”
You sighed, pinching your temple. “I don’t know why would I expect anything different from you.”
“Just don’t worry about it!” You hastily interrupted him, looking everywhere but him. “I’m on birth control, so get on with it.”
He let out a soft hum that had ‘well, fuck it’ vibes embedded in its tone and said nothing else, deciding to just grip a handful of your ass and slap it again. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes now, wanting nothing more than to get this over with.
Jungkook pressed his chest against your back, the tip of his cock poking your ass, and a cold drop of sweat dripped down your spine. His mouth hovered just over the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning the cartilage. “I know you’re dying for me to fuck you, but I’d appreciate a smile every so often.”
You squinted. “Oh fuck you.”
His hand met your rear once again, and this time you moaned. “Watch your words, Y/N, you might end up regretting them.”
You rolled your eyes, clearly fed up with his attitude. “I’d like to see you try, bitch boy.”
With a grunt, Jungkook grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back abruptly, taking you by surprise with a high-pitched squeak. “Suit yourself.” He said, taking his dick and teasing the tip over your sopping cunt, clearly relishing on your fluttering eyelashes, trying to hold onto the last piece of sanity you still had, biting your lip to prove you still had the upper hand.
God how wrong you were.
Jungkook didn’t bother to warn you when he slid inside your warm, velvety cunt, instead letting his cock do the talking. Both of you hissed; him because, well, you were pretty tight, and wet and fuck, Jungkook was so turned on right now. And you because holy hell he was massive and he felt even bigger inside you, stretching you out more than any other dick (or object) ever could. It burned. So much you felt tears welling up in your eyes, yet you didn’t fret, not when he wasn’t even fully inside you, not when he had a clear view of your face as your head was still held back by the grip he had on your hair. You couldn’t let him have that.
“You feel that? Feel my cock inside you?” He said, lips ghosting atop the shell of your ear. You whimpered and nodded, a hand darting back and finding purchase in his soft, fluffy dark hair. He thrusted slowly, filling you up more and more until he finally bottomed up, pressed flush against your ass, his cock most definitely hitting your cervix and filling you to the brim. Never in your life had you felt so full, so dizzy, and so turned on. You regretted doing this, as you already knew that Jungkook had ruined you for other men.
It only served for you to resent him more.
Though your silence was short-lived, Jungkook took the opportunity to slap your ass once again, making you whimper and let out the tears you’d been holding. “Fuck!”
“Answer me when I’m talking to you!” He growled.
“Go to hell.”
Maybe insulting him wasn’t a good idea from the start, because then Jungkook pulled out and then slammed back in, his hips hitting your ass. Your other hand tried to find the edge of the counter as your eyes were shut, unwilling to witness how Jungkook ruined you with his harsh thrusts, digging deeper into you and leaving you breathless. When you found it, you held onto it for dear life, also gripping his hair tighter, earning a low groan from him that reverberated across his chest.
“Fuck, you don’t know how much I’ve just wanted fuck you until you can’t walk, wipe that smirk from your fucking face. You drive me insane, Y/N.” Jungkook said, voice cracking with every thrust he gave but no less menacing. It drove you wild, and perhaps turned you on even more how he insulted you, igniting a primal desire within you that you were convinced consumed him as well.
Wanting more, you took upon the task of taunting him, trying to make him snap, curious as to what lengths would he go. “Really? Is that all you’ve got, drummer boy? Huh?” You panted, smirking. He had his head buried on your neck, hot breath fanning your skin as he thrusted, hard and deep. You finally opened your eyes to watch the scene unfolding through the mirror. His hair stuck to his face from the sweat, and the imagery of you getting hammered by none other than the man you hated was enough to have you clenching around his length.
You heard him moan, spouting obscenities in response to your walls clamping down on him, and you gleefully repeated the action, wanting to get a rise out of him. And it sure did, prompting him to yank your hand off his hair and place it back on the counter. He released you from his grip and straightened himself, placing a hand on your back and pushing you forward, then placing his hands above yours, essentially trapping you beneath him.
You swallowed thickly, not sure of what was coming.
“I told you to watch your words.”
What followed consisted of Jungkook pulling out and, without warning, slamming back in at a vicious pace that had you seeing stars, the new angle not helping at all. You couldn’t resist the urge to moan and whimper, and so you did, resigned to the fact that he had won, might as well enjoy the moment with some dignity left.
He huffed and puffed and panted above you, drilling into you at such speed you were amazed he hadn’t reached his climax yet. At first you’d doubted his ability to make you cum, never actually having experienced an orgasm through penetration alone, but he was close to shattering your expectations, as you already felt that tension in your lower belly that signaled the forthcoming of your release.
“Fuck, fuck, so good, fuck.” You panted, mostly to yourself, but Jungkook heard it anyway, surprised that you finally admitted it. Burying his head back into your neck, he sank his teeth into the skin possessively, grunting as he felt his balls slapping your cunt from the sheer force of his thrusts.
You screamed.
“That’s what I fucking want to hear, oh god.” Slap. There went another spank to your ass. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/N, I bet no one’s ever fucked you like I do, huh?”
You shook your head, tears flowing freely down your cheeks, your mind lost in a haze, trying to breathe through sobs. You were absolutely wrecked; your makeup ruined and your pussy battered, and your neck marked to no end. “N-no.” You admitted, a wanton moan escaping your swollen lips.
“I-Im close, oh.” You cried weakly, not even caring anymore about keeping it cool. Jungkook had completely ruined you, and you weren’t sure how you were going to get back from this.
Meanwhile, he was lost in his own trance, focusing on thrusting and finding that same spot he managed to find with his fingers minutes ago. With a shift of his feet he managed to change the angle without moving too much, and when he finally thrusted back in he took noticed of your change in expression thanks to the mirror, eyes rolling to the back of your head like some possessed demon. He knew then that he had found it, and proceeded to milk it for all it’s worth with the sole intent of wrecking you even more.
“Do you wanna cum Y/N?” He asked, a wicked smirk on his face.
You nodded, voice frail and small and weak. “Y-yes. Yes, please let me cum.”
He bit his lip, the pleasure almost overwhelming him, trying his best to keep composure and latch onto the remaining sliver of sanity he had. “Tell me who can fuck you this good.”
You didn’t hesitate to reply. “You… Jungkook, fuck, it’s you!”
Something snapped in him, his pace faltering and becoming sloppy, yet still rough and deep. “Fuck, say my name again, Y/N, say it.”
“J-Jungkook! Please, letmecum, please, I can’t-”
“Cum.” He said, and you let yourself go, your orgasm crashing down on you hard like a ton of bricks. Your vision turned blurry as tears kept flowing, and you let out a scream that you were sure people could hear from outside, despite the loud, deafening music the band was playing on the other side of the door. You bent over the counter, your arms giving out from underneath you as your heart thumped so loud you could feel your head throbbing. Your walls fluttered around his cock, causing him to mutter obscenities to himself and then quickly pull out of you, hand wrapping over his length and pumping one, two, three times before he came, hot spurt of semen falling onto the tiled floor as he grunted.
The bathroom fell into silence, with only your tired pants providing ambiance (excluding, obviously, the concert outside). As you came down from your high, it dawned on you what atrocity you’d just committed, and suddenly you wanted to escape the bathroom and go home.
You lift yourself up, standing on wobbly legs and mentally thanking your past self for deciding not to wear heels, as you would have probably fallen down if you had used them. Deciding not to think of the man next to you (as if denying his existence would suddenly make him disappear), you hiked up your panties and then your jeans, feeling oddly uncomfortable as you felt the cotton sticking to your wet lower lips. You turned around and noticed Jungkook crouching with toilet paper in hand, wiping off the remnants of his semen, his clothes already tucked in.
When he stood up to discard the soiled paper, you caught a glimpse of his flushed face, but this time your heart beat faster than before. Suddenly the bathroom felt too small for both of you, not being able to stop the feeling of entrapment.
“I look like shit.” You said, looking into the mirror and trying to alleviate the tension. Jungkook turned to you.
“You’re welcome.”
Not knowing what to say, you were left with silence, which wasn’t good at all, because it let your mind wander to parts you didn’t want it to. What did this mean? Where do you go from fucking your worst enemy? What did he even feel about this? The prospect of even finding an answer to these questions scared you, and then, the inevitable sentiment of guilt hit you like an arrow to the chest. You felt the need to curl up in a ball and cry.
You put on your coldest gaze and looked in the mirror once again, examining your ruined makeup and then darting for the toilet paper. Jungkook, behind you, looked out of place, like he didn’t belong there. His hair was messy, sticking out in different directions, and his nose scrunched from time to time, probably going haywire from the strong stench of sex.
The lack of words was killing you, and as you dabbed on your face with wet toilet paper, you cast him a glance. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, what the hell do you want me to say?”
You sighed. “You tell me, even a ‘good fuck’ and a fistbump would suffice. But you’re standing there looking like you’ve seen a ghost. Now I know why you haven’t been getting any, you suck at talking.”
He scoffed, straightening his jacket. “Like you’re any better.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“What did all of this mean?”
“Excuse me?”
“We had sex, now what?”
The question scared you more than you liked to admit. You quickly thought about anything relevant to say, but the more you thought, the faster your heartbeat, and the scarier it got to realize that you liked having sex with him.
This shouldn’t have happened, you thought.
A sigh from Jungkook indicated that you had spoken your thought aloud, and that was even scarier. He looked defeated, even disappointed, and it only served to confuse you even further.
“Why did you kiss me?” You inquired.
“Why did you kiss me back?”
“Don’t dodge the question, you prick, I asked you first.”
There was a sense of disillusion and a hint of anger in his eyes, and as his shoulders slumped, he walked over to the bathroom door. “Answer it yourself.”
And with that, he left you alone in the bathroom with your thoughts and tears of confusion welling up in your eyes.
7K notes · View notes
kimnjss · 8 months ago
cherry pickers | jjk sm au
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banner by @dee-ehn​
🖇 synopsis:
— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life... rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you... forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.
(or, you’re a video vixen with an assumed identity and jungkook manages to see past it.)
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pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader
fic type: social media au
side ships: sope (?)
genre: a gross amount of fluff :( smut!! // some angst mixed in ofc.
disclaimer: jungkook’s friends are real assholes nd some of the things they say are… ehhh :/ i’m sure the actual 97gc is nothing like this - this is strictly for story telling purposes!!
updates: everyday. (please don’t ask!!)
A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!
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character profiles: 97 liners
character profiles: jungkook nd his hyungs
character profiles: yn nd crew
part one: open house
part two: basic geometry
part three: kinda cute
part four: status report
part five: bro code gods
part six: worthy opponent
part seven: birthday dinner
part eight: broke boi
part nine: moving funny
part ten: just hanging out
part eleven: formal setting
part twelve: romance factor
part thirteen: fourth wheel
part fourteen: pretty boy
part fifteen: bare minimum
part sixteen: kiss me
part seventeen: devoted hoes
mini time jump: always careful
bonus: ruined me
time jump: come over
part eighteen: balls deep
part nineteen: being gross
part twenty: food demon
part twenty-one: 190718 yn
part twenty-two: fucking yoongi
part twenty-three: keep going
part twenty-four: real different
part twenty-five: random fuck
part twenty-six: traumatically destructive
part twenty-seven: shit show
part twenty-eight: just perfect
part twenty-nine: we’ll survive
part thirty: fucking terrified
part thirty-one: break up
time jump: couple rescue
part thirty-two: only you
part thirty-three: take notes
6K notes · View notes
badbhye · a year ago
feels like summer (m)
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You only have one question on your mind this summer: when did Jeon Jungkook get abs?
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: neighbor au, smut, fluff, angst (if u squint)
warnings:  alcohol mention, drinking, explicit sexual content; voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, dom/sub-themes, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex (m/f receiving), throat fucking, cum play, grinding, gagging, oc has a muscle kink, jungkook’s character doing a whole 180 halfway through the plot
word count: 16.6k
A/N: This was originally written for the BSC Drabble Exchange and obviously I’m two months late...but also....this spiraled out of drabble territory so fast. But to the person who originally requested this, I hope you see it and enjoy it! Please don’t forget to send in some feedback, and I apologize for any mistakes!
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"You're drooling a little there," Yoongi mumbles, nudging your arm.
"Will you shut up," you glare, trying to focus on the article you're supposed to be reviewing but it's difficult. How can you focus on Market Upheavals when Jeon Jungkook is doing pull-ups in his backyard.
You don't know how it happened but when you came back home from college one fine day, Jungkook had just changed. He wasn't just the kid who stuck to your brother like a second skin, following him around like a lost puppy anymore. He had grown up. A little too much, you think to yourself when he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat that had collected on his forehead. You think you're mistaken, but you catch him looking right where you're sitting, and when he does, you have to hold back the jolt of shivers that threaten to go down your spine.
"Hey, hyung," he calls, waving his hand to Yoongi before making his way over the short fence. "I wanted to ask if I could go over some of my compositions with you later."
"Yeah, stop by sometime before 8, my shift starts at 11," Yoongi responds without looking up from his phone. Jungkook lets out a non-committal hum in acknowledgment before he leans over to you, invading your personal space so all you can see is his sweaty torso. Your eyes budge at the way his muscles flex and follow the way a drop of sweat trails down the side of his jaw, down to his neck. He's so close you can feel his breath on your skin, his eyes noting your reactions and you swear you see a corner of his lips twitch. "Noona," he says, voice lower than normal. Your eyes jolt to meet his own, mouth suddenly very dry.
"You're sitting on my towel," he points towards the offending cloth placed snugly between the dock chair and your thighs.
"Oh," you let out, voice uncharacteristically weak but you comply nonetheless, moving so he can slide it out from under you. He grazes the skin of your thigh lightly, and you know he's doing it on purpose. You don't know when he got so bold, last time you were home he'd barely even look at you for more than a minute before he was reduced to a blushing, stuttering mess.
But that was two summers ago and the scrawny, awkward boy you used to know is no longer there.
All too soon, he shuffles back as if the interaction never happened. You're ashamed enough to peek a glance at Yoongi, who is still focused on his phone. If he noticed anything, he's feigning ignorance which you're thankful for. When Jungkook's done obnoxiously drying off the sweat off his body, going as far as to take off his shirt completely and flinging the flimsy cloth on his shoulder as he finishes drying his hair. You're left in utter shock, shamelessly ogling his movements, especially the way his shoulder blades flex with every shift of his arms. When he bids goodbye to Yoongi with a promise to meet up later, he turns once more to catch your gaze. His expression dancing with playful mirth, "Bye, noona!" He calls, almost sweetly, and you gulp. When he's gone, you feel like you can finally breathe again, you turn towards the dreaded article you should have been done analyzing by now when you notice Yoongi's eyes on you.
"What do you want?" You say, not sparing him a glance.
"You know..." he yawns a little, almost bored. "I really didn't need to see you and Jeon eye-fucking each other like that," moving to leave his spot on the adjacent dock chair.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you try to busy yourself once again but the flush of your cheeks gives you away. Plus, it's Yoongi. You could never hide anything from him, even if you wanted to.
"Please," he rolls his eyes. "Cut the crap, you think I don't know about your little crush on him?"
You can't help but sputter at his blunt words though it shouldn't be surprising to you anymore. He doesn't wait on you to answer him before he makes his way back inside and you try to focus on your work again — the keyword being try.
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 The list of work you'd made when you were feeling especially productive glares at you from your desk. Clearly, the thought of being ahead in your classes, or even catching up to your current courses was not something you'd be able to pull off this time. The reason for this belated realization: Jeon Jungkook. It wasn't as if you weren't used to him being at your house all the time, you'd practically grown up together. Well, in the neighborly sense. He never spent too much time with you, opting to accompany Yoongi instead. You always wondered whether the boy had an issue with you, maybe he just didn’t like you. It never bothered you too much, you had eventually brushed it off because you had your own thing going on. It wasn't until high school that you and Yoongi's social circles merged but Jungkook still kept his distance.
But now, it's like he's always there. Always in your field of vision. It's not like you try to seek him out (you tell yourself) but it's like he knows where you'll be. It's almost domestic seeing him help your mother bring in the groceries or mowing the yard for your father. And when you pass by him, he always makes sure to acknowledge you, and boy, do you. Ever since he's grown out of his lanky body and filled out a bit more, he's started wearing more form-fitting clothes. Like the white shirt, he's wearing right now. He's been watering the plants in his backyard and because of the heat today washed himself off too. You're conveniently sitting on your porch, laptop in tow but you're not working. How can you when you have the perfect view of how the material of his shirt sticks to his abdomen. The only question in your mind right now is when did Jungkook get abs? You haven't been away from home for that long... or maybe you just didn't notice before. Just then, he lifts his wet shirt over his head and you find it impossible that you couldn't have noticed. And you swear he maintains eye contact with you when he does it, the fucker even has the audacity to smirk.
The silent staring contest is shattered when Yoongi comes out, probably trying to sneak a smoke before your mom gets home.
"I really can't get a moment of peace, can I?" He settles against the porch railing, fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.
You and me both, you begrudgingly think but you keep that thought to yourself, forcing your eyes away from Jungkook to look at Yoongi instead.
"What's up?" You ask, concern evident in your voice. Yoongi wasn't one to complain.
He takes a long drag. "They're giving me overtime for the entire week...won't have time to compose."
You frown, Yoongi barely had any free time on his hands. He worked at the local radio station during the dead hours of the night along with helping out your mom with any housework and composing music whenever he could on top of it all. You feel terrible because you're barely home because of college and you know that's affected Yoongi. You're aware that he most likely regrets dropping out but you know it wasn't his calling. He was wasting his talents by sticking to studying business so you still support his decision. But, maybe staying home wasn't as good as you thought it would be for him. If you could take his place, you would in a heartbeat but you know he'd never let you. He was always like that.
"If you need any help..." You offer, but you know your attempt is futile, "I can take mom out for errands when I'm here."
"Do you think she'll let you drive Petunia?" He laughs, putting out the cigarette before he's even done smoking half of it.
"I'm good at driving," you defend yourself. You admit you were never the best driver but you had gotten your license fair and square.
"I'm happy you want to help," your mother says placing heaps of food onto a plate she especially prepared for Jungkook. "But I'd rather you not drive my car."
You glare at Yoongi when he laughs at your expense.
"I have a license," you remind them quickly but all it does is give a non-committal hum from your mother. It’s rather embarrassing to have your family ridicule your driving skills, especially when Jungkook’s joined you for dinner tonight.
“I’m happy to help out,” Jungkook meekly pipes in. “I drive my dad’s truck for errands all the time, so it won’t be an issue.”
“You’re such a helpful young boy, any girl would be lucky to snatch you up,” your mother coos, ruffling his hair causing him to let out a small laugh, briefly meeting your eyes before he’s too busy trying to keep your mother from adding even more food onto his plate.
The subject on your part, unfortunately, is dropped for the moment and you angrily eat the rest of your dinner.
A couple of days go by and you've forgotten about the whole thing altogether. You find yourself busy with yet another reading you had until you hear your mom come through the front door.
"Just set these here, sweetie," she motions towards the counter in the kitchen. And in tow, you see none other than Jungkook carrying three big bags of groceries with such ease. You don't know if you're jealous that he can carry that much in one go when it probably would take you two trips, but you can't lie and say you didn't just ogle at the way the muscles of his arms flex.
"So, they said the shipment of those Torx screwdrivers were coming in at 4, so they should have them by now," your mother informs him while she's unloading the fresh produce.
"Ah, I can go now then," Jungkook responds, putting the cereal away. By spending so much time here, he'd become to familiarise himself with how things were in your house. He probably had a whole system set up by the way he was moving so quickly. You manage to bring your focus back to your work successfully, although it proves to be a difficult feat. It isn't until you hear your mother call out your name that your focus breaks once more.
"___," she repeats, coming into the living room where you're seated. "I need you to go run some errands with Jungkook."
Your head whips up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. "H-huh? Didn't you just get the groceries?"
Your mother pins you with a look that indicates not to ask questions. "You said you wanted to help out around the house."
The complaint that threatens to spill out is quickly stopped in its tracks when you see the expectant look on Jungkook's face when he peeks in from the kitchen. Your resolve is so easy to break. You huff, roughly putting away your books before you go to put on some shoes — you can't look too eager now.
It's silent in the car for a couple of minutes, but it's a long drive. Leave it to your mom to stay loyal to the hardware store that's all the way across town. It's a little awkward sitting in close quarters with Jungkook after the way you've been thinking about him these almost feel guilty. So, you focus on the radio instead, listening to whatever mindless pop song that plays next. It's when Jungkook clears his throat when he's stopped at the red light, slowly lowering the volume of the radio that you're reminded of your situation. You're alone with Jungkook.
"So," he begins, eyeing you briefly, "How have you been, noona?"
You peer over at him, " same old, I guess."
He hums, "...Are you still seeing uh, Joonho?"
"Junho," you correct him. "And no, we split after he graduated."
"Oh good," he mumbles under his breath but backtracks immediately when he realizes you heard him. "Ah, I mean I hope you're doing good after the split..."
"Nice save," you chuckle as he rubs the shell of his ears nervously. "I'm fine," you clarify, eyeing the radio. "It was a mutual decision."
When he doesn't respond, you sigh, moving to turn up the volume again so you don't have to deal with the silence. Jungkook's just doing your mom a favor anyway, it's not like he wants to be alone with you.
Soon enough, you become hyper-aware of the fact that Jungkook is in the car with you and god, why did the hardware store have to be all the way across town? You stare at him from the corner of your eye but have to stop yourself when your thoughts start going south once again.
"So," you clear your throat, talking loud enough so he can hear you over the radio. "How have you been?" You redirect his question back to him. "How's college been?"
"Oh, um," Jungkook stammers a bit as if he's embarrassed. "I'm thinking of dropping out..."
You shut the radio at that and turn to face him completely, "Why?"
He looks over to you at your bluntness. "Huh?"
"Jeon Jungkook, please don't tell me you're dropping out because Yoongi did," you accuse, sounding almost angry.
"Noona, how could you think so lowly of me?" He pouts. "It was just something I was thinking about," he admits, turning to park the car.
"This isn't something you can just do, Jungkook," you explain. "It's a big decision that has real consequences...have you talked to anyone about this?"
"No..." he mumbles, "You're the first one to know."
You sigh, putting a hand on his knee. Immediately, he stiffens under your hold so you begin to move away but he quickly takes a hold of your hand before you can. There's silence for a minute until you very awkwardly clear your throat.
"Jungkook," you begin, "Are you happy?"
"What do you mean?" His eyes widen at your very personal question.
"I mean...are you happy with what you're doing, is it your own decision or did something happen?" You switch your words around because you realize Jungkook probably wouldn't want to tell you something as personal as this.
He stays silent for a while, contemplating what to say, his eyes not leaving your hands, he intertwines his fingers with yours without thought. Your breath hitches but you don't pull feels nice.
"I don't know," he admits, a little wistfully.
You frown and wait for him to continue, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his hand.
"I just think I'm doing something wrong, wasting my father's money...especially after-" he catches himself before he can tell you the extent of his problems. Clearing his throat, he looks away but doesn't let go of your hand. "It's nothing," he concludes.
"It isn't nothing," you defend him. "Jungkook, I understand if you're uncomfortable with me because we've never been close, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?" You pass a reassuring smile at him. "I care about you a lot, you're like to me."
You feel gross lying to him like that but you need to put your needs aside, Jungkook's wellbeing is way more important than some sexual fantasy. But to your surprise, he doesn't respond the way you thought he would, at most you expected him to shyly laugh. Instead, his brows furrow, and he frowns. He doesn't say anything, just lets go of your hand and moves to get out of the car. You don't dwell on it too much because just then you receive a text from your mother.
 Honey, I forgot the coffee your brother likes, would you please grab it on your way back?
 "Hey, I'm going next door," you call out to Jungkook as you get out of the car. You're a little thankful that you don't have to be next to Jungkook because, right now, all you can think of the way he reacted. It was probably the most aggravated you'd seen him react in such close quarters. You quickly grab the brand of coffee Yoongi prefers and continue to browse the aisles of the store, not really paying attention to what you're looking at.
"Can't decide between boxers or briefs?" Jungkook chuckles and you flush a deep crimson.
You hadn't realized you were staring at men's underwear.
"...It's for Yoongi?" You grimace, already regretting your words as you're saying them.
Jungkook bursts into loud laughter, nose scrunching and all. You can't help but smile at that, glad that the tension has ebbed away.
"Okay, the jig is up!" You raise your hands in surrender. "...I wear men's underwear."
"That's sexy, noona," Jungkook grins leaning down so the two of you are eye to eye.
Your laugh dies in your throat because, once again, you find Jungkook in your personal space. You can't stop the way you inhale sharply, eyeing at how close his lips are to your own. He's so close, you can feel his breath on your skin, and you're sure he can feel yours on his too. It feels like forever before he moves back, but not before his own eyes fall down to your lips. The corners of his lips lightly lift in a smile smiles before he breaks the moment and walks towards the counter. You meekly follow behind, clutching the coffee tightly in your grasp, mind still reeling from what just happened.
You're dazed. The ride back doesn't even seem that long compared to the ride there. You lean back on your seat, head leaning against the window, focusing on the low hum of the music.
"You're wrong, noona," Jungkook says after a couple of silent minutes go by. You peer at him in question, silently urging him to continue.
"I'm not uncomfortable with you," he turns to look at you before eyeing the road again. You hum in acknowledgment, "That's nice to hear, Kook."
It's silent again but you hear Jungkook mumble something so softly you think you might've been mistaken.
"I care a lot about you too."
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 After the whole grocery store ordeal, you notice Jungkook begins to spend a little more time with you. He still retreats to Yoongi like before, but it's still progress in your books.
You're lounging around when Jungkook comes by and takes a seat close to you, he doesn't say anything but smiles in lieu of a greeting.
"What's up?" You ask, eyes not leaving your phone. Not that you're doing much on it anyway, you'd just gotten done feeding your virtual cats. "If you're waiting on Yoongi, he's out...probably with Namjoon," you continue.
"I wanted to spend time with you," Jungkook admits, a shy smile playing on his lips.
That's one thing you appreciate, as much as Jungkook has weakened your resolve a significant amount, there are still moments where you see the same lanky, shy boy you admire so much. Or maybe you just like to see him squirm.
"Sure, what do you wanna do?" You look away from your phone to smile at him. The two of you had hung out a handful of times after the car ride, and it ended up being quite nice. You realized that you two had a lot more in common than you originally thought.
"It's nice out today so why don't we go out for a walk?" He suggests.
"You trying to get me to exercise more, Jeon?" You tease, peering out the window to assess the damage you'll be suspecting yourself to.
“Come on, noona, you've been cooped up in here ever since you've come home,” Jungkook whines, poking at your side. “You're getting lazy.”
“Hey, I am not cooped up in here, and this is my vacation, I deserve to be lazy,” you playfully glare from your spot on the couch, laying back further so your legs are spread on his thighs.
He laughs but doesn't make you move your legs off him. Instead, he places his hands on your knees and slowly begins to massage them. You try to feign ignorance to his touch, to keep your eyes glued to anything but him or his hands but it becomes so difficult when one of his hands moves up to your thighs, fingers putting light pressure on the muscle as they slowly begin trailing up your legs.
You don't move, eyes transfixed to the way his fingers ghost the skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Even though you try to act like his touch doesn't affect you, your body immediately betrays you when a shudder wracks through you. And you swear you see the corners of Jungkook's mouth lift a little before you awkwardly cough, disrupting the moment.
"The only way you'll have me outside is if you carry me the whole way," you decide.
"I'll happily carry you, noona!" Jungkook laughs, grabbing your hand to pull you up. You greatly misjudge his strength and in a blink of an eye, he has you sitting up and trapped in his grasp. Your eyes widen in shock at your sudden close proximity and you nervously clear your throat before scampering to your feet.
"Let's go then," you briskly walk towards the entrance to put on your shoes.
 Once you're standing on the street you grew up in, you turn back to Jungkook who had wordlessly followed your lead. "So, where are you taking me?"
Jungkook laughs nervously before taking ahold of your hand and dragging you towards the park at the end of the street.
"Are you seriously taking me to the park," you laugh as you let him drag you. His pace is faster than yours so you have to move quickly to keep up with his long legs.
"Jungkook! Hold on," you pant, pulling at his wrist to make him stop in his tracks. He looks back and flushes. “Sorry noona,” he responds, slowing his pace to walk in sync next to you but not letting go of your hand.
It’s when you reach the middle of the park that you let go and take a seat on one of the swings.
“God, I haven’t been here in so long,” you say, sitting limply on the swing.
“You haven’t been back in so long,” Jungkook says, taking a seat on the swing next to yours.
“Okay, that’s fair,” you quip, giving him a side-eye before smiling. “I had different plans for the future back then.”
“With Junho?” Jungkook asks, a little cautious when you don’t respond immediately.
“...Yeah,” you say, kicking your legs so you start swinging slowly.
“What happened between the two of you?” He asks, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me unless you want to,” he stammers, backpedaling a little.
“It’s okay, Kook,” you reassure him. “We just grew apart. Fell out of love, I guess,” you try to explain. “It was a good relationship but we were in different places in our lives, so we decided to break up. Simple,” you shrug.
“What about you, though,” you peer over to him. “You got stuff out of me, it’s your turn now.”
“That’s fair,” he chuckles, kicking his legs so he’s swinging too. “What do you want to know?”
“Why are you considering dropping out?” You turn to face him once the swing stops.
“Wow… you’re blunt, noona.”
“I don’t beat around the bush,” you sniff and wait for him to continue.
Jungkook chuckles, ruffling his hair, “I think I’m gonna end up being a disappointment.”
“Jungkook…” you begin, actually surprised to hear those words from him. “I don’t think you can be more wrong, you know Yoongi’s been telling me just how talented you are for years. He barely calls or texts when I’m not home and when he does, it’s always to tell me how proud he is of you.”
He’s silent for a while, letting the swing stop on its own before he looks up at you again. “Have you heard any of it?”
“I haven’t,” you respond, moving to get off the swing. “Come on, there’s a place I want to go to.”
You two walk towards the trees that line one side of the park, leading to a clearing surrounded by a thicker layer of foliage. It’s a comfortable sort of silence that sits between you as you make your way through the path. When you reach the familiar tree, you smile, moving to sit where you used to spend most of your evenings as a child, Jungkook gingerly taking a seat next to you.
“You remember this place,” he says after a few moments.
“Uh, this is my spot,” you clarify, pointing towards the tree bark where fourteen year old you had carved out your initials.
“Sorry to say, noona, but you’ve been gone too long,” Jungkook sniffs, motioning towards another carving on the tree trunk. You follow his movements and see another dull indentation of the initials “JK”, not far from your own.
“Jungkook, how could you!” You say trying to sound angry, even though the telltale signs of a smile started ghosting your lips. “How dare you not follow the sacred rules of finders keepers losers weepers!”
Jungkook laughs, shrugging. “It’s free real estate, plus I hung out here just as often as you did.”
“Oh yeah, this is where you’d follow me to and then ignore me all day,” you laugh, remembering all the times you’d sit by the tree to read whatever trashy romance novel you’d stolen from your friend’s mom’s closet and he’d come by, sitting on the opposite end, doing whatever he always did. You’d barely talk, you’d sometimes offer him a juice box and he’d sometimes place a peanut butter sandwich next to you before scurrying off. The both of you chuckle together, reminding each other of memories you’d shared there until you fall into another comfortable silence.
 “I want to, by the way,” you say, when the sun starts to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. “Listen to your music,” you clarify when he raises a brow in question. “I know it’s a very personal thing to ask for, and even Yoongi barely lets me listen to his pieces, but I’d like to,” you smile, resting your hand on the plush grass, watching the way your fingers are swallowed by the long blades. “If you’d let me.”
Jungkook smiles, cheeks dusting a light pink before he places his hand on yours. “I’d like that.”
It's dark out by the time you get home but it feels like barely any time had passed. You're fairly certain that nobody's home but that doesn't stop you from calling out when you slip off your shoes.
"In here," you hear Yoongi's voice from the living room.
"Don't you have work tonight?" You ask when you spot him lounging on the sofa. You stop in your tracks when you notice Hoseok's presence.
"When did you get here?" You gush, running to crush him in a hug.
"Picked him up an hour ago," Yoongi responds before Hoseok can answer you, though you doubt he'd be able to because you still have him tight in your grasp.
"If you missed me this much, babe, why don't we take this to the bedroom?" Hoseok chuckles, swiftly dodging the pillow Yoongi throws his way. You laugh, used to Hoseok's incessant flirting, almost missing it.
"Why don't you take me right here, right now," you challenge, taking a seat.
"God, if you guys were gonna be fucking gross, I wouldn't have brought him here," Yoongi groans, grimacing at your shameless flirting.
"It's been a while, hyung," another voice calls, and that's when you remember Jungkook was here too. He's still standing in the doorway, face impassive, a clear contrast to how he was smiling at you just moments ago.
"Jungkook! How've you been?" Hoseok goes to give him a hug, you don't miss the way Jungkook's eyes meet yours in their embrace.
Hoseok promptly takes a seat next to you, grabbing your ankles so your legs rest over his lap.
"How long are you here for, Hobi?" You stretch your legs a little more.
"Hmm, probably for two weeks? I'm giving a class in the studio, also have to visit my sister."
"Oh, is Jiwoo still married?"
"Thankfully," he huffs, "Otherwise she'd be stuck up my ass all the time."
"That's a shame," you hum, "Let her know whenever she's ready to leave that husband of hers, I'll be waiting."
"So, you're gonna cheat on me...with my own sister?" He jokingly accuses, already closing the distance between the two of you.
“How else will I bring drama into my life?” You justify as he pulls you closer to grab hold of your waist and begin his attack.
Your cries are violent as you immediately thrash in his hold, tears streaming down your face as you can't hold back your laughter. In the midst of all the chaos, nobody notices Jungkook leave.
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  A couple of days go by and you don't see Jungkook as often anymore. Sure, you catch him doing some chores here and there but it's not the same. Shockingly, you've been significantly more productive these days with most of the list crossed out already. So, there's not much left to do. So you decide to do the first thing that comes to mind — barge into Yoongi's room. Surprisingly, he's awake and flinches when he hears the door burst open. You ignore his curses and ungracefully flop down on his bed.
"What do you want?" He sneers from his place on the desk, headphones propped away from his ears so he can hear you.
"I'm bored," you sniff, turning to face him.
"The fuck should I do then?"
"When did you get so boring?" You whine. "Let's get drunk or something...since Hoseok's here too," you reason.
"Yeah, we could..." he says, eyes going back to his laptop screen. "But I think I've seen you and Jung hook up enough to last me a lifetime."
"You know he'd blow you before he'd as much as kiss me," you challenge, laughing when he bristles at your words.
"Get the fuck out of my room!"
You easily dodge the balls of dirty socks he flings your way, laughing as you make your way out of his room.
It's a pleasant night and you find yourself sitting in your backyard once again, drinking wine you swiped from your mother's stash. It's quiet, and you're humming to yourself, enjoying the buzz of alcohol in your veins. That's when you see Jungkook in his own backyard and you wave him over, showcasing the bottle of wine as temptingly as you can.
"You know I got that for your mom," Jungkook takes a seat next to you, but still takes the bottle from you.
"Are you trying to woo my mother?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to bite back a smile.
"I plan on becoming your second dad by the end of the year," he takes a swig, grimacing at the bitter taste.
"Well, I'd suggest you get Pinot Noir and I guarantee you'll have her by the end of the month," you wink, taking the bottle back.
He laughs and the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth until it's half empty. The headiness of the wine finally gets to you and you begin to sway a little.
"Where were you?" You ask rather bluntly.
"I was here," he responds, confused at your sudden question.
"No," you sigh, pushing the stray hair out of your face. "I mean...were you avoiding me or something?"
"N-no," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. "...Okay, maybe a little."
You scoff, appalled at his answer. "You know you could have just lied so I wouldn't feel bad," You sniff, turning away from him. "What did I do?"
"You didn't do anything, I just..." he clears his throat, and it feels like you're back at square one when he couldn't hold a conversation with you for the life of him. "I just needed some time."
"Oh," you respond, taking his words a little differently. "I get it, Kook, everyone needs time."
"Noona, I don't think you do," he sighs, not looking at you. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you for a while...I just-" He pauses when you put a reassuring hand on his knee, you would've aimed for his shoulder but you're practically slumped in your chair. He pauses, staring at your hand for a moment before he threads his fingers with yours, soothingly rubbing patterns on the back of your palm. You take the time to look at his face then, the way his hair bounces over his eyes, you can't help but follow the slope of his nose and direct your attention to his lips. You must be blatantly staring because he notices when you begin to sit up straight. You can't help yourself when your drunken mind can only focus on how beautiful he looks in the moonlight. His eyes also soften looking at you and you swear you catch his gaze drop to your lips.
"Noona," he whispers, "I-"
You swear he's moving closer and you can't help but lean in until you're only inches apart. Your breath hitches. "Yeah?" you ask, peering up at him. He gulps at your sudden close proximity, his eyes falling down to your lips before he catches your gaze once again.
"Noona, I-" He begins again but he's cut off by your blaring ringtone which somehow is still Apple Bottom Jeans like it's been for the past eight years. You almost fall back trying to answer the call, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
"H-Hoseok!" you shout. "Shit, I was gonna call you later, wait, Jungkook's here too let me put you on speaker!"
"Kook! Where've you been?" Hoseok's voice drifts over, a little static from the signal.
"Ah, just busy, hyung," Jungkook meekly replies.
"Don't work yourself too hard, kid," Hoseok chuckles, "Enjoy your youth!"
"Stop talking like you're an old man, it makes me feel old," you tease, "Jungkook's a good kid so the last thing he needs is you to influence him." You reach out to ruffle Jungkook's hair affectionately but he doesn't return your affection with a smile as you expected, instead, you see his jaw clench before he lets go of your hand.
"Oh, so you think I'm a bad influence?" Hoseok asks, trying to sound appalled. "When you sound drunk, ___, did you give the kid alcohol?"
"No," you hiccup. "Technically he gave it to my mom and I stole it from her!"
"Who's really the bad influence then, babe," Hoseok laughs.
You lean back in your chair, drunkenly laughing.
“But listen,” Hoseok continues once you've calmed down. “I’m calling because I heard someone can't get enough alcohol in her system.”
“So drinking my problems away is wrong when I do it?”
“Aw, you can drink as much as you want, babe,” Hoseok chuckles. “Namjoon and I are throwing a party at your request.”
“Wait,” you jolt up. “You got Namjoon to agree? Mr. I have a 9 to 5 job and too many Bonsai tree children to feed.”
“’s more of a hangout,” his voice changing in pitch at the last word. “But I’m sure I can pull some strings for you...I can do anything for you, babe,” Hoseok adds, still laughing at your Namjoon impression
“Mm, that sounds hot Jung,” you coolly respond, moving to take another swig of wine but you can't find the bottle. When you turn to ask Jungkook, you see him taking a long swig, finishing off the remaining wine.
“Jungkook that doesn’t come cheap, you know?” You berate, frowning at the lack of wine in the bottle.
“I know,” he huffs, leaning back on the dock chair. “I am the one who bought it."
"Will I be expecting to see you there, kid?" Hoseok's voice calls out. "Because it seems like you need a drink too."
"Yeah, sure," Jungkook responds. "See you later, hyung, I'm heading out."
"Wait, Jungkook," you call out with a playful lilt to your tone. "You're leaving after you buy a girl a drink? That's not how it goes!"
To your dismay, Jungkook doesn't turn back or even acknowledge you as he walks back to his side of the fence.
"Don't tease him, ___," you hear Hoseok's laugh from the static of your phone, making you flinch at your forgotten company.
"So it's okay when you do it but not when I do it?" You repeat your earlier words. "You know what they call that, Jung? Sexism."
"No, you dumbass," Hoseok groans. "I mean don't lead him on."
"Wait what?" You sputter. "How are you calling me a dumbass when you're the one saying something like that!"
"Come on, ___," Hoseok sighs. "The kid literally wears his heart on his sleeve, it's harder not to notice."
"Why do I feel too drunk for this but also in need of a drink after hearing this," you groan, leaning back. "Don't play tricks on a woman when she's drunk, Hoseok. You should know this."
"That's called alcoholism," Hoseok easily responds. "And ___, trust me, everyone can see it. But I guess you're just not ready to have that conversation."
You're at a loss for words after hearing that. What the fuck? You're brought out of your panicked thoughts when your phone vibrates in your hand, only then realizing that Hoseok had hung up on you.
"That damn Aquarius," you mumble to yourself as you scroll through your phone to check the aforementioned text message.
 Hoseok [23:18]: Everyone can see you too, but you aren't ready for that conversation either.
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“___,” you hear your mother call. “Can you give this to Jungkook before he leaves?”
"He's here?" You peer over your mother's shoulder as she packs dinner for him inside some tupperware. "I haven't seen him around."
"Oh he mentioned coming by to see Yoongi, as usual, he should be in his room I suppose," she hands you the box before making her way out of the kitchen. "And remind Yoongi to eat something, he's been cooped up in his room all day!"
You begrudgingly make your way to Yoongi's bedroom, knowing well that he dislikes it when you barge in when he's working so you decide to do the decent thing, and barge in.
"What the fuck do you want now?" He seethes, whipping his head around to glare at you. You mindlessly peer around his room and huff. "Jungkook's not here?"
"No," Yoongi says, turning back to face the glowing screen of his computer once more. "He didn't show today."
"Huh," you hum. "Well, don't rot away in front of your computer screen, take a shower," you scrunch your nose in disgust. "And eat something so you don't die before you get to drunkenly make out with Hoseok."
You're quick to make your exit before you can hear Yoongi's retort. You end up busying yourself in your room for the next couple of hours, humming the tune you've heard come out of Yoongi's room for the past two days as you work, happy that you're actually getting something done for a change. It's when you lean back to stretch your stiff back that you realize that the sun is close to setting.
"So you showered," you grin at Yoongi when you enter the kitchen. Leaning down next to him, you steal some food off his plate. He passes you a glare before shoveling more into his mouth. "Jungkook still not here?" You ask, looking for the tupperware your mom had given you earlier.
It's Yoongi's turn to smirk now. "Why do you care so much?"
You snort at his words, "I'm just asking because mom told me to give him some dinner. Guess I'll have to go next door."
"Yeah the only dinner you'll be serving him is your —"
You've shut the door before Yoongi can finish that sentence, grateful that he doesn't get to see the growing blush on your cheeks.
You peer over to Jungkook's backyard, hoping to see him outside but it's empty. Huffing about the fact that you'll have to go to his house, the conversation you had with Hoseok still running in the back of your mind.
Shaking yourself out of it, you trudge your way across the fence but you once again find yourself nervous. Nervous that you're going to be seeing him.
You hadn't seen Jungkook much after the night you'd gotten drunk together. You'd think he was purposefully avoiding you, but you also know that he'd been helping his father with work for the past few days and had seen him through the window once or twice. Other than that, you'd had no contact with him.
You frown, standing outside the back entrance of the house, unsure of what you should do.
Confused about whether you should go to the front door and ring the doorbell or just go through the backdoor, leave the food in the kitchen and make a prompt exit. You snort, what the hell were you doing? This nervousness was so unlike you, you're always the one with the upper hand, you're an adult for god's sake, and you're far above this coy behavior. With a sudden burst of confidence, you push back your doubts and quickly find yourself inside the kitchen. Peering around, you don't spot Jungkook anywhere, not even his parents but that's not out of the ordinary, they're usually not home around this time anyway. You decide to leave the food out in the living room instead, where he'll spot it quicker. Deciding to send a quick text letting him know that you stopped by, you're about to leave until you're stopped in your tracks.
It's a dull thump that causes you to pause, making you peer in the direction of the noise in confusion. It's repetitive, coming from down the hall. Jungkook's probably working out, you think to yourself. His muscles didn't just pop out of nowhere after all. Deciding to walk further, you're met with a sliver of light falling on the floor, faintly lighting up the otherwise dark hallway.
 That's when you hear it.
 You're far too close when you realize — you would have never come if you had known (you tell yourself). Though you don't stop walking until you see the girl who's caught your attention. Her wails much clearer now that you're closer. "F-fuuuck, Jungkook," she cries, voice breaking at every syllable.
Jungkook is towering over her form, legs propped on his shoulder as he pushes into her. His occasional grunts taking away your focus, his voice reverberating through the walls and sending shivers down your spine. It takes all of your strength to keep standing at the scene, your mind screaming at you to make a move, to leave but your body stays rooted in place, taking in every detail of the scene in front of you. You're too shocked to take a breath as you see the way his muscles flex at every movement he makes, the way he so easily contorts the girl's body, drilling into her as she shrieks in pleasure. Soon enough, he has her flipped over on all fours with great ease, her head pushing down into the mattress. Your eyes barely rest on her until your eyes find their way back to him. A wrack of shivers goes down your spine once again when you notice the way begins plowing into her, with even more vigor than before. The way his jaw is clenched, letting out a grunt every time his cock is deeply lodged into her. Your eyes follow the sweat dripping down his forehead, down to his neck, following down until you see the ridges of his built form. When you look up to him again, it takes all your power not to fall down to your knees when you realize that he's looking right at you.
You gasp when he pushes her head further down into the mattress, her moans now muffled by the linen underneath. His grunts are the only thing you can hear now, sounding deep and guttural every time he pushes back in. His pace is faster, stronger and it feels like you can feel the way his cock pushes in. The way he's looking at you, it's like he's fucking you and not the girl who's currently blubbering underneath him.
Your thighs rub together at the sudden need for friction. Jungkook's eyes follow your movements, a smirk filling his features. "You like the way I'm fucking you?" He asks through clenched teeth, pushing into the hilt and pressing his pelvis into the back of her thighs.
"Mmf, yes," the girl grits out. "I love the way your cock is fucking me!"
Although she's the one answering him, you know the question was directed to you as his eyes haven't left you yet, even for a second. His hum of approval has your knees shaking and you swear your panties are sticking to you uncomfortably. You're shocked you haven't made a sound even though your breathing is labored, heart-rate accelerated. You must have gone completely insane to still be standing here when you know Jungkook is aware of your presence.
"Jungkook!" The girl cries, her legs shaking. "I'm gonna cum!"
"Come on, baby girl," Jungkook grunts, pushing into her even further. "Cum all over my cock."
It's like you're in a trance, following the way he moves his hands between her legs, making her cries get louder and shakier. At this point, its Jungkook holding the poor girl up as he drills into her. Her moans increase in pitch and it would honestly bother you but you're far too distracted looking at Jungkook that you don't even notice her cum. It's only when his own hips stutter and his head falls back that you get ahold of yourself.
As quietly as you can, with shaky knees, you make it out of his house and back to your room. Your heart hammering in your chest because you just saw Jungkook fuck the life out of some girl. Oh my god, you just saw Jungkook fuck the life out of some girl! Jungkook, your neighbour, the kid who idolizes your brother. Jungkook, who was always too shy to talk to you, who'd always get red-faced when you were around. Jungkook, who works out in his backyard. Jungkook, who sometimes holds your hand. Jungkook, who apparently can fuck the soul out of you. You shudder at that thought, your mind reeling from what you just witnessed, the wetness between your thighs still evident. You shake yourself away from wandering thoughts, you can't, you chastise yourself as you bury your face into your pillow. But the image of him doesn't stray from your mind and you feel like your body is working on overdrive, your nerves so sensitive that you can't help but shakily place a hand between your thighs.
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"Yoongi's been complaining that you've been inside more than usual," Hoseok takes a seat next to you when you find yourself lounging around your house yet again.
"I've been busy," you quip, eyes not leaving the textbook in your lap.
"Come on!" Hoseok laughs, "Your lack of flirting is worrying, what's up?"
At your non-committal hum of acknowledgment, he yanks the textbook, prying it away from your grabby hands.
"If it takes me longer to graduate, it's going to be your fault, Hoseok," you groan, folding your arms across your chest after a feeble attempt to get your book back.
"___, why are you studying when you're on vacation," he raises an eyebrow. "More importantly, when I'm here?"
"Clearly, you've mistaken me for someone who gives a shit about you, Jung," you retort, "I've been using you to get to your sister this whole time."
Hoseok scoffs at your refusal to comply before bringing a backpack to his lap. That piques your interest as you raise your eyebrow expectantly.
"What's in there?"
"I was going to give this to you as a peace offering, but you're being a little bitch," Hoseok sniffs, taking out a bottle of vodka from the bag.
"I think you're the one pushing me towards alcoholism, Jung," you snort but pause when he takes out a carton of cranberry juice.
"Don't act like you're not the one who got us all booze with your fake ID in high school," he laughs, raising the bottle in his hand. "So let's commemorate and drink cranberry vodka like a bunch of freshmen."
You stare him down for a while before a smile slowly creeps up on your lips.
"God, I really need to stop using alcohol as a crutch," you grin before taking the bottle from his hand.
It's after you've drunk almost half the bottle between the two of you that Yoongi comes home, groaning as he takes off his shoes to announce his arrival.
"Get in here, you toad," you drunkenly giggle, almost sliding off your couch in between. "I have two surprises for you!"
Yoongi slowly makes his way into the living room, a scowl on his face at your obvious inebriated state.
"I'm here. Now give me a drink," he says, making you move so he can wedge himself between you and Hoseok.
"Surprise number one!" You say, handing him a haphazard mixture of vodka and cranberry juice. "And surprise number two!" You shove him lightly so he's even closer to Hoseok. You giggle as he nudges you with his elbow.
"Hoseok's helping me drink my problems away," you say, moving to the adjacent couch when Yoongi won't let you drape your legs across his.
"What problems, noona?" You hear from the doorway and immediately stiffen.
 There is none other than Jungkook, standing at the entrance, innocently smiling at you before he makes his way into the living room.
"Oh yeah, Jungkook's here too," Yoongi says, sipping on his drink and grimacing before shooting you a nasty glare for not putting in enough juice.
"I hope you guys don't mind," Jungkook says before sitting on the couch you're on, a little too close for comfort.
"What were you guys doing?" Hoseok asks, taking Jungkook's attention away from you.
"Yoongi hyung was treating me to dinner for finishing a song," Jungkook says, showcasing his teeth while smiling.
At that moment, you decide that Jungkook is the devil incarnate. He has the audacity to look like the sweet, innocent, helpful Jungkook you've known your whole life. But you know the truth, you know how he is anything but that. You can see through his facade easily, how he has everyone fooled.
He shifts in his spot, causing him to bump his thigh with yours and you immediately clamp your legs shut and move away from him, leaning as close to the corner of the sofa as you can get. You hear him huff but he maintains his distance. Even though there’s about a person’s gap between the two of you, you can still feel the heat radiating from his body.
"You know glaring at your empty cup won't put more alcohol in it," Yoongi says, finishing his own drink before moving to make himself another.
"Uh, yeah," you say, distracted still as you pour a hefty amount of vodka in your cup.
"Slow down, babe," Hoseok snorts at your antics. "What's got your panties in a twist."
"Please don't talk about my sister's panties when I'm here," Yoongi groans.
"He means don't talk about my panties when you can talk about his panties," you smirk, settling back down on the sofa.
"What if I want to talk about your panties, ___?" Comes Jungkook's whispered voice next to you, his breath hitting your neck and you almost choke on your drink, coughing loudly.
"Are you okay, noona?" Jugkook asks, loud enough for everyone to hear this time. "Here, drink some water."
You begrudgingly accept the offered cup and gulp it down so you don't have to look at his face and just recall the way he was looking at you the other night.
"Look at Jungkookie taking care of his noona!" Hoseok drunkenly giggles, slapping Yoongi's arm to get his attention. Hoseok's intentions are as clear as day and you're not amused. You feel even more on edge now, knowing that even Yoongi was in on it — if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.
You hear Jungkook laugh beside you and put an arm around your waist. You jolt up at the contact, feeling extremely sober suddenly.
"Uh...I'm going to the kitchen. Bye," you stammer and run towards your safe haven.
He's the devil, you can't believe you hadn't noticed it before.
"It really is all men," you mutter to yourself, pacing in the kitchen.
"I take it either you and Jungkook finally fucked or that you and Yoongi are fighting...which isn't new or exciting so please tell me you and Jungkook finally fucked," Hoseok says casually as he leans onto the kitchen island.
"No we did not...and will you keep your voice down?" You whisper-shout, peeking into the living room to make sure nobody heard him.
"Then why are you here talking to yourself like a madwoman, are you trying to prove that there are ghosts in this house again because that's not funny and I will scream."
"God, I wish my ghost boyfriend was still here...I miss Taemin," you groan, taking Hoseok's cup and downing it in one go. "He wouldn't torture me like this...why did he have to cross over?"
"You really need to get laid," Hoseok dryly comments. "Especially if you're pining over a clearly non-existent boyfriend."
"Oh my god, Hoseok!" You say, eyes wide as you quickly turn to face him. He flinches ready to get hit with the plastic cup in your hand but instead, you grab both of his shoulders and pull him closer.
"You're right! I do need to get laid...that explains everything," you let go of him and start pacing again. "But the question now is...who?"
"That's easy-"
"Don't you fucking dare, Jung Hoseok," you interrupt, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Don't even try."
"I'm just stating the viable options here."
"I would take this from you any other day, but right now, I need you to help me set up a dick appointment."
"God, we're both not drunk enough for this conversation...and I'm pretty sure I'm seeing double right now," Hoseok slurs a little to accentuate his drunken state.
"It can't be you...because Yoongi would annihilate me," you begin to mutter your thoughts out loud, "Obviously Jungkook is a no go, that's just my sex-deprived brain malfunctioning."
"So you admit it!" Hoseok excitedly shouts, pointing at you with his eyes wide.
"No, shut up!" You gape, pausing in your tracks.
"Something happened, you don't do that weird saying your thoughts out loud thing unless something happened," Hoseok grins. "And don't think I didn't hear that little panties comment he made."
Fuck, it really be your own that betray you, and for you, it's your stupid inebriated self.
"Okay, if I tell you what happened," you begin, inching closer to him. "You have to promise not to laugh at me."
"You know I'm a whore for gossip," he smiles, leaning back to the counter.
"Okay..." You begin, nervously peering at the entrance to make sure that you're both alone. "I may have seen..." You purposefully keep your voice as low as a whisper, as a further precaution. "Jungkook...fucking a girl... and I can't stop thinking about it Hoseok, so you understand the severity of the situation."
He stares at you blankly as his drunken mind processes what you had said to him before, his eyes comically wide, and he barks out a loud laugh.
"Hoseok you promised you wouldn't laugh!" You sniff, looking at him with pleading eyes in hopes that he'll take pity on you.
 He doesn't.
 "Okay, you can't tell me something like that and not give me details... How much did you see? Did you see his dick? What's he like in bed?"
Hoseok's busy listing out detailing questions but you can't hear him anymore as your cheeks heat up at a significant pace when your mind starts to wander...
"Oh my god!" Hoseok balks at you. "You saw all of it didn't you!"
You don't respond, only gulp nervously when your mouth gets too dry.
"Shit, ___, not gonna lie... That's so hot." You see his eyes beginning to crinkle and scamper to shut him up before the man in question hears that you're currently talking about him getting his dick wet in front of you.
 Unfortunately, luck hasn't been on your side for the past couple of days.
"What's hot?" Jungkook says as he peeks his head in the entrance before making his way to where you are awkwardly holding onto Hoseok.
"Kim Taehyung!" You shout the name abruptly before you can even think of an excuse.
"Huh?" Jungkook tilts his head and you have to inhale deeply at the way his hair flops with his movement. Demon, you remind yourself.
"I invited Taehyung to the party this weekend, ___ thinks he's hot," Hoseok winks at you before looking back at Jungkook.
You look between the two of them before quickly stammering, "Uh, yeah! He's really hot... totally fuckable!"
Jungkook looks at you, his face blank before he hums. "I see," he says, before turning to Hoseok. "Yoongi hyung was calling you."
Hoseok passes you an apologetic look before grinning wildly and making his exit — effectively leaving you alone with Jungkook. Fucking Aquarius bastard.
 You awkwardly clear your throat when you notice Jungkook silently looking at you.
"So, Kim Taehyung?" He asks, slowly stepping closer to you.
"Yeah," you stutter, "...Kim Taehyung," backing away from him until the back of your legs hit the counter.
"What about him?" He smirks, eyeing you down and you have to peer up at him to maintain eye contact. Fuck when did he get so tall?
"You know..." you begin, "he's a good looking guy...what can a girl do?" You grimace at your words as they leave your lips but Jungkook doesn't react, just keeps his lazy smirk.
"Hmm… what can a girl do?" He grins, leaning down so he's face to face with you, his breath hitting your face. Your eyes widen before they fall to his lips and your mouth goes dry. You subconsciously lick your lips and his own eyes follow your movements before he moves towards the left to grab a spare mug that was sitting behind you on the counter.
He doesn't wait for your response before he's making his way out of the kitchen and back to the living room to Yoongi and Hoseok... and alcohol. God, you need more alcohol but you really can't make yourself sit in his presence anymore.
"Fuck Jungkook," you angrily mutter as you make your way back to your bedroom before groaning at the choice of words. You slam the door in the midst of your frustrations before launching yourself on the bed.
"I can't believe booze has failed me," you mumble into your pillow before falling into an alcohol-induced sleep.
"You can cancel your party," you say over the phone, in lieu of a greeting right as Hoseok picks up. "I'm quitting alcohol."
"I'm guessing you didn't hydrate last night," Hoseok responds, sounding much better than you.
"I couldn't and you know it!" You seethe, soothing your aching head after downing two pills of aspirin. "Anyway, how do you sound okay, I'm sure you drank way more than me."
"I may or may not have puked my guts out an hour after you left," Hoseok admits, sounding a little ashamed.
"It's what you deserve," you remark blandly, making your way out to the backyard where the warm sun welcomed you. You groan in appreciation of the warm dock chair as you get comfortable. It's only when you open your eyes again, you see Jungkook working out in his backyard once again.
"If there's a god," you mutter to yourself, "When will you let me catch a break?"
"What's up?" you hear Hoseok ask over some crackling, probably making himself breakfast.
"The bane of my existence this summer..." you whisper just in case Jungkook doesn't over-hear even though he's clearly out of earshot — but you can never be too cautious.
"Our little Jungkookie's working out isn't he," Hoseok snickers, "Why don't you just sit back and enjoy the show?"
You hum, "You know what, Hoseok?" you say thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right... maybe I can get some sort of sexual gratification by just staring at him... doing those pull-ups... and then I'll get it out of my system" You silently watch the way his muscles flex every time he does one, getting a full view of those godly pectoral muscles because he decided to forgo a shirt today.
"Clearly, it’s working," Hoseok snorts.
You groan loudly, "It's not fair Hoseok! When did he get the upper hand, how did I let this happen?"
"Come on, ___, you seriously thought Jungkook was gonna stay coy this whole time? The kid's got game, you'd know if you’d come home more often."
"Don't say that! Don't call him a kid when I saw what I saw!" You angrily whisper into the phone.
"Don't act like you didn't enjoy the show." You can practically hear the god-awful smirk accompanying Hoseok's tone.
"This is why men don't deserve rights," you mutter, still angrily staring at Jungkook finishing up his work-out. "Anyway," you sniff, "you owe me a favor."
"And what is that?" He chuckles.
"Call Taehyung to the party for me."
"Oh? So now you're coming to the party?" Hoseok asks. "I thought you swore off alcohol...well you lasted ten minutes, I'm proud of you."
"Just invite him, will you?"
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 You’ve managed to successfully avoid Jungkook, occasionally seeing him around the house but your plan was foolproof: flee. But it’s the day of the party and your otherwise foolproof plan is going to fail, because he’ll be there, and you’ll be there, in the same space.
Hoseok [9:45]: I won’t let u in unless u have at least one bottle of booze with u.
Hoseok [9:57]: That was Namjoon but yeah, the rule still stands.
 “I thought this party was for me,” you mutter to yourself as you make your way up the stairs, pulling on your dress nervously after every couple of steps.
You pause when you reach the apartment, a dull throb of music cascading through the walls, staying still for a while before kicking the door once to announce your arrival.
A few seconds go by and you’re ready to kick again but the door swings open to a clearly drunk Namjoon, cradling a bonsai tree close to his chest.
“___!” He grins, pulling you into a tight hug but he misjudges and proceeds to stuff your face in his pit. You awkwardly stand in his grip, letting him hug it out because it’s been a while since you’ve seen him
“Thank god you shower regularly,” you grin at him when he lets you go. “I come bearing gifts,” you hold up the lone bottle in your hand. “So, please put my coat in Hoseok’s room for me.”
“Tequila...” Hoseok slithers his way in at the mention of alcohol. “Someone’s here to make regrets!”
“It’s silver so you better have lemons in your kitchen,” you push past him and are met with enough people to be considered a party and not the hang-out Namjoon had planned.
“So I take it your persuasion worked,” you look at Hoseok as you make your way into the kitchen.
“I told you I’d do anything for you, babe, do I ever disappoint?”
“Okay, get off your high horse,” you jab, rolling your eyes. “Alcohol please,” you cup your palms in front of your chest.
“___,” Hoseok rolls his eyes. “It’s like one foot away from you. Make your own drink.”
“I don’t have my research on me right now but I have proven that your drinks get me drunk faster,” you sniff. “So, alcohol please.”
 Once you’ve downed two shots of tequila and now nurse once of Hoseok’s special drinks, you happily stroll to the living room where you’re met with Yoongi and Namjoon, bonsai plant still in hand.
“What is he doing?” You ask Yoongi in lieu of a greeting as you wedge your way between the two of them on the sofa.
“I’m cradling my daughter,” Namjoon sniffs, gripping the plant closer to his chest. “She can’t fall asleep otherwise.”
You pass Yoongi a look who just shrugs. “I think you have more pressing matters at hand, ___,” he says cocking his head to the side. You follow his line of sight and curse under your breath.
 Lo and behold, Jungkook is already there, surrounded by a bunch of people you recognize as his friends, not like you could recognise anyone besides Park Jimin...and the girl you saw him fucking who is busy clinging onto his arm and laughing at something he just said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say taking a large gulp of your drink. “Anyway, is Taehyung here?”
“Oh god,” Yoongi groans. “Don’t tell me you got Namjoon to agree to a party just so you could schedule a booty call with Taehyung, you know you could just text him instead of orchestrating a giant ruse.”
“Hey, this ruse is for you and Hoseok to get down and dirty too, I’m doing you a service,” you sniff, downing the rest of your drink. At the rate you’re going, you’re pretty sure you’ll blackout but sneaking a glance at Jungkook again, makes you forgo your concerns and move to get yourself another drink.
“Long Island iced tea?” You hear and turn around, drink sloshing in your cup. “You haven’t changed,” Taehyung smiles, eyeing the drink in your hand.
“Kim Taehyung!” You smile, tipsy already, and move to hug him, burying your head in his neck. “Why did everyone go through a growth spurt and not tell me,” you sniff when you fall back onto the heels of your feet.
“I like towering over you though,” he easily says, taking ahold of your waist and pulling you towards him. “Come dance with me.”
You easily agree, letting him move you to the living room where a couple of people were dancing to the music. You’ve never been a good dancer, always the one with two left feet but get some alcohol in you and suddenly your body just knows. Sure, you can’t call what you’re doing dancing, moving more towards fucking with your clothes on, if the thigh Taehyung has wedged between your legs and the way he’s gliding you on it has anything to go by.
You thank alcohol for giving you the confidence that surges through your body when you feel a twitch against your own thigh, making you smirk. The two of you dance to the music for a couple more minutes until he bends down, lips touching the shell of your ear. “Meet me on the balcony in five, yeah?”
“I thought you’d never ask, Kim,” you pull away. “Let me go grab my coat.”
 You’re quick to whirl around, moving towards Hoseok’s room, giggling to yourself at the prospect of your plan coming to fruition. Maybe this will let you see clearly and not drool thinking about Jungkook anymore. Clearly, you just need to get a good dicking down and Jungkook will be Jungkook again. 
Thankfully Hoseok’s room is unlocked and empty, you peer around the dark in search of your coat.
A hoe never gets cold but she does need her jacket when she has to make a quick run for it, just in case.
You aren’t there for long when you hear the door open again.
“I thought you said to meet on the balcony,” you laugh, turning around but your laughter dies in your throat when you realise it’s not Taehyung standing behind you.
“Jungkook?” You stutter, “what are you doing here?”
“You know, ___,” Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek as he stalks his way towards you. “Hoseok I kind of understood… but Kim Taehyung?”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” You stutter, all the alcohol running through your veins suddenly evaporating. 
“I’m tired of playing games, ___,” Jungkook responds, ignoring your question. “I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore.”
“What do you mean, Jungkook?” You shrink under his gaze. He looks so different right now like a whole different person.
“I mean,” Jungkook chuckles, stepping closer as you inch back, the back of your thighs hit Hoseok’s desk. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
“Jungkook!” You shriek, “Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t want to f-fuck me.”
Jungkook closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath and immediately bends down so his face is a mere inch away from your own. “Oh, you have no idea just how much I want you, ___,” Jungkook says, his eyes falling to your lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you. And I know you want me too.”
In a blink of an eye, he’s lifted you up and seated you on Hoseok’s desk.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you let out, eyes wide when you see the look in his eyes, the way his eyes roam your body with this innate hunger.
“Stop kidding yourself, ___. Don’t pretend like you didn’t see anything,” he says, leaning so close to you that he’s all you can see. Everything about him is so different now, it’s surprising that you just recently noticed the raw sexual appeal Jungkook exuded. You nervously lick your lips when you find his gaze drifting down once again, trailing your body with hunger you now recognize as the look he gave you when you found him fucking that girl a couple of days ago.
“It’s okay, noona,” he chuckles, the word sounding nothing but condescending coming out of his mouth this time. “I like being watched.”
"J-Jungook!" you gasp, shocked at his obscene words. He's so close to your vicinity that you're unable to think straight.
“And it looks like you like to watch, don’t you noona?” He teases, his hand gripping your waist to hold you into place.
“Tell me, noona,” he asks, licking his lips and you shudder when you see the wet sheen of saliva coat his lips. “Did you touch yourself that night? Did you get off to me fucking her?”
Without thinking, you find yourself nodding to his words, eyes wide, breathing hard and shallow. He groans, separating your legs to wedge himself between your thighs. He’s so close, pressing his body into yours, and you let him, gripping his shoulders to press him even closer to you.
“Do you even know what you do to me, ___?” He groans into your neck. He presses his hips into your stomach. “Do you feel what you’re doing to me?”
You whimper, feeling the thick shaft of his dick pressing into your skin. All too soon, the feeling is gone and he’s standing back looking at you with half-lidded eyes.
“Take off your clothes.”
You don’t even hesitate and slip your dress off, left only in a pair of lace panties. Jungkook groans at the sight, palming himself through his jeans. His eyes roaming your body, from the swell of your breasts down to the lacy material of your panties.
“Didn’t even wear a bra, you’re so naughty noona,” Jungkook smirks, shamelessly eyeing your breasts.
“I want to know what you did.”
“W-what?” You ask, peering up at him with confusion.
“I want to see how you touched yourself thinking about me.”
You shudder under his watchful gaze and you let out a shaky breath.
“Go on then.”
You slowly inch your hands down your body, sliding down your panties gently enough that they stick to the wetness of your core. You hear Jungkook curse under his breath at the sight.
“So wet, and I haven't even touched you,” he looks entranced, the way his eyes widen at the scene between your legs.
“You did this,” you mumble, swirling the wetness of your folds and spreading it across the expanse of your pussy. Biting your lips when your finger grazes your clit.
Jungkook moves to take a seat on the chair, getting a better view of your fingers working on yourself.
You ghost your fingers across your clit, breath shuddering every time the movement sends small a small wave of shock through your body. You should feel embarrassed, being watched so closely but the fact that Jungkook is here, watching you so intently just eggs you on. You circle your finger along your entrance as another gush of arousal flows through, glistening the tips of your fingers, and you gather the wetness, shoving it back in. A small moan leaves your lips when you curl a finger inside yourself.
"You're doing so well, noona," Jungkook whispers. His jeans are unbuttoned but he doesn't bother touching himself, too busy watching you. And you're in awe of him yourself, biting your lips as you slowly begin to grind onto your finger, slowly adding another digit. You shudder when you scissor them inside of yourself, your legs beginning to close into themselves but Jungkook pushes them apart, so he doesn't miss a single movement.
"Fuck, fuck! Jungkook," you gasp, "It feels so good!"
Your movements begin to get more erratic, faster as you start to lose yourself to the pleasure. Your thighs twitching when you press onto your clit. You sputter when you add another finger, slowing down your movements to get used to the pleasant feeling of feeling so full.
"J-Jungkook!" You moan out, your other hand reaching to grab ahold of the one that's grabbing your thigh, "I'm gonna-"
"Are you cumming already, ___?" He tilts his head, looking at you with a teasing smirk. "Did you enjoy the show that much?"
"Yes!" You grit out, biting your lips as you fuck yourself. "Wanna feel you so bad!"
You groan, hips lifting off the desk when you crook all three fingers inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit. "Jungk- fuck, I'm cumming!" You cry out before your words taper off to strangled moans. You keep fucking yourself until you've ridden out the waves of your orgasm, panting by the time you come down from your high.
When you lazily open your eyes, you find Jungkook's eyes wide, staring between your legs.
"Fuck," he says before he peers up at you. "That was the hottest thing I've seen in my whole life." Before you can respond he's shoving his head between your legs and licking a long stripe up your slit before he latches onto your clit and begins to suck gently.
"Ah, Jungkook," you groan, head falling back and hitting the wall behind you. "It's too much Jungkook," you whimper, feeling oversensitive from your orgasm but he doesn't listen, eagerly lapping up your release like a man starved. He groans when his tongue probes at your hole, fucking it with shallow thrusts, sucking up the wetness. "Noona, you taste so good," he groans before diving back in. The oversensitivity has you sobbing, tears falling down your cheeks but you still find yourself pressing yourself against his tongue as hard as you can. The fact that it's Jungkook’s head between your legs has you tumbling towards a second orgasm at an embarrassingly fast pace. Without warning, the tight coil snaps once more and you're coming undone, grinding yourself onto his tongue, moaning out his name. This only spurs him further as he licks into you with even more vigor, lapping up whatever dribbles out of you like it's his only life source.
When the waves of pleasure settle down, you slump against the wall, utterly spent. Your thighs still twitching at the intensity of your orgasm.
"Fuck," Jungkook mutters, looking up at you, his breath hitched. You gasp when you notice his lips, cheeks, and chin dripping with your release. "You're so fucking hot," he mutters before moving to stand up. He strips himself of his shirt quickly, and your eyes widen once more over how toned his body is. You shamelessly ogle his body, eyes following the ridges of his muscles.
"When did you turn into such a muscle pig," you scoff when he flexes.
"Feels good when you cream yourself watching me work out in the backyard," Jungkook chuckles. You bristle at his words, flushing a deep crimson.
"You noticed?"
"Why do you think I put on such a show, noona?" He winks before he's standing close to you once again. "Now be a good girl, and suck me off."
You're quick to pull his jeans down, grateful that he had undone the button earlier, you're sure you would have fumbled with it the way your hands are shaking in anticipation.
The moment his cock is free from its confines, your eyes widen. It's a mouth-watering sight. His cock beautifully glistens as precum leaks out of the tip, sliding down the curved shaft and you lick your lips, following the trail with your eyes. Gingerly, you grab the shaft, spreading the wetness on the head and he hisses when your thumb digs into the slit. At his reaction you grow more bold, kissing a line on the side of his length, licking his skin more and more after each kiss. When you reach the head, you press another kiss on the tip before encasing it between your lips, swirling your tongue before you suckle on it lightly.
"F-fuck, ___!" Jungkook hisses. "Be a good girl and take it all in, okay?"
You easily comply, slowly sinking on his length, inch by inch you swallow his length as far as you can go before going back up to catch your breath. Once you get used to the length and the thick girth, you loosen your jaw and eagerly stuff him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take him in.
"Oh god, you're doing so well, baby," Jungkook grits, taking a hold of the hair that falls onto your face. His praise just makes you more eager and you go even further until your nose touches his pelvis. You stay in that position, nose hitting the base of his cock, and you inhale deeply, groaning when the heady scent invades your senses. Tears stream down your face as your throat constricts, jaw aching from the girth but feeling the weight of his cock on your tongue makes you moan. Jungkook's head falls back when he feels you moan around his cock, and when he finds you peering up at him with wide eyes, teary from the abuse of his dick, his cock twitches in your mouth.
"I'm gonna fuck your face now, can you take it?" He asks, pulling your face back by your hair and you nod eagerly.
"I didn't know you were such a cockslut, noona," Jungkook grins before he shoves his length down your throat. You immediately choke but he doesn't relent, shoving it down until you're pressed against him. You swallow wildly around his length, making him groan.
"Fuck, you're such a sight, noona,” he rasps, “With my cock stuffed down your throat."
He pulls out a little before thrusting back in, abusing your throat and you enjoy every minute of it. You gag every time he has you pressed against him, your eyes trained on the way his muscles go rigid.
"Look at you, getting your throat fucked like a whore," Jungkook says, enthralled by the way you swallow around his cock. "You're gonna have me cum before I've even fucked your pussy."
You hum, hips beginning to grind on the desk at the prospect of Jungkook fucking you.
Jungkook pushes his entire length into your mouth once more, letting it sit there as you sputter, the sides of your mouth dribbling with a mixture of your spit and his precum, before he pulls you off completely, his hand replacing your mouth as he slowly fists his cock.
You're breathing hard, gasping to catch your breath but your eyes don't leave how he's slowly working his shaft, hissing when squeezes at the base. You eye the way his abdominal muscles clench every time he thrusts into his hand.
"Can I-" You begin but stop, a surge of shyness falling over you and you avert your eyes.
"Hmm? What was that?" Jungkook asks, bending down so he's in your field of vision.
"I...I've been fantasizing," you explain, turning towards him again, slowly lifting your hand to have it trail down his chest. "About riding your abs... can I?" You ask, peering at him with your eyes wide.
"And you ask me why I work out so much when you have such a muscle kink, noona," Jungkook teases but moves to make you stand on your feet. You wobble on your feet a little but catch your balance quickly when Jungkook takes your seat on the desk, leaning back against the wall.
You quickly scamper to straddle him, his face so close to yours. Without thinking, you close the distance between the two of you and catch his lips with your own. He moans into your mouth, grabbing ahold of your waist to push you onto him, tilting your head to lick into your mouth. You start slowly, experimentally rubbing your abused pussy on the hot skin of his abdomen. You moan loudly when your clit rubs against the flexed ridges of his muscles.
"Mmm, as much as I love the sounds coming out of your mouth, ___, you have to be quiet," Jungkook says, kissing down your neck. "Unless you want the whole party to hear what you're doing."
You nod eagerly, biting your lips to muffle the sounds of your moans but the idea that anyone outside could figure out what the two of you doing sends a jolt of excitement down your spine and only make you move faster against him.
"You're so dirty noona," Jungkook bites your neck, making you whimper. "You want everyone to hear you, right, you want them to watch me fuck you."
You shiver when he slides a hand down your back and whine when he makes you sit up. At your dejected expression he chuckles, "Noona, do you want me to stuff you full of my cock or not?"
At his words, you move at lightning speed, standing on your shaky legs in anticipation. He's quick to stand up, moving behind you. You watch him sift through his jeans until he brings out a condom but you shake your head. "I-I'm on the pill," you clarify. "Want to feel you inside me."
“Fuck,” He groans, fisting his cock, "I can't believe how perfect you are, ___."
He moves behind you again, grabbing you until he's had you bent over the desk. "Now, you have to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?" He says, smoothing a hand on your back and you eagerly nod, spreading your legs so he can stand between them. He drags his cock over your entrance, slowly sliding it down without adding any pressure so it slips down your entrance and nudges your sensitive clit. You yelp as streams of pleasure zap down your legs.
"I thought I told you to be quiet, noona," Jungkook chastises, "I bet you want Taehyung to walk in and see, don't you? Or is it Hoseok hyung, want him to see me fucking you in his room?"
You moan loudly at his words, eyes falling towards the door, where anyone could walk in an see the state you're in.
"Or should I stuff your panties in your mouth if you can't listen."
Unable to answer, you let out a breathy moan when his cock slides down your slit again, biting your lips to hold it back but ultimately fail.
"Guess, I have no choice," Jungkook says before stuffing the black lace into your mouth.
"Can you taste yourself, ___?" He asks, nudging your entrance with the head of his dick and you let out a muffled moan, nodding when your flavor hits your tongue.
"Do you taste how sweet you are, noona?" He pushes the head in and you groan, your walls clenching down, making Jungkook hiss.
"Fuck you're so tight, noona or is my cock just too big for your tiny pussy," Jungkook grits out, pushing in until half of his dick is lodged inside of you. Your legs are shaking at this point, walls convulsing at the intrusion but it feels so good to have a cock — Jungkook's cock —  inside of you. There's no guilt to the realization like you had been expecting, it feels nothing but right, like you were meant to have him filling you to the hilt. The sudden realization has you pushing back on his length, silently asking him to stuff you full, and he easily complies, pushing in until his length seated completely inside of you. Both of you still for a moment, you're left a whimpering mess, feeling so utterly full that you could just snap in half. Jungkook is no better, he shudders when he feels you convulse around him, cock twitching inside of you.
"F-fuck," he grits out, voice wavering. "You don't know how long I've wanted this for," he groans, leaning against you until his body is molded perfectly above yours.
You peer up at him and are shocked to see how fucked out he is, sweat beads his forehead, slowly sliding down the side of his face as he bites his lips raw.
"Noona," he groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "I can't believe I'm inside of you."
You shudder when he presses himself even further inside of you, and you feel like you might explode when he hasn't even started moving yet. You clench down on his length once more that has him break out of his thoughts and he pulls out before he's slamming into you again. You shriek into the lace at the brute force of the pace Jungkook's fucking into you. He's relentless with his thrusts, his thick cock filling you to the hilt before he's pulling out again. It's obscene, the way he's grunting and the way the slap of skin against skin reverberates through the room. You're lucky that the music is loud enough that nobody can be privy to what's going on inside.
You moan and drool against the fabric, hands desperately finding purchase onto the desk. You feel like the whole table might break apart against Jungkook's monstrous pace. His hold on your hips is so strong that you're sure he's leaving bruises on your skin, and that only makes you groan in delight at the prospect of having his marks branded on your skin.
"I won't last long," he grits out, voice deep and tinged with a guttural groan. You nod against the wood, eyes watering, letting him know that you're in the same state. Even if you didn't have your mouth stuffed full, you're sure you wouldn't be able to make a coherent word leave your lips. It's like every cell in your body is on fire, igniting every time Jungkook furiously fucks into you. Even after having this on your mind all summer, nothing could have prepared you for the sheer pleasure of actually feeling his cock inside of you, the way pushes into you. Without even having the realization of your impending release, the coil snaps and you're hurtling headfirst towards the strongest orgasm you've ever had in your life. Every muscle in your body goes rigid as you clench down onto his length with all the strength you have, stars glittering behind your eyelids as your walls flutter and convulse relentlessly around his cock. The feeling has Jungkook moaning, his forehead resting on your neck before spurts of hot cum begin to fill you up even more. He fucks you with even more vigor until you've milked out everything from him. He fucks his cum back into you one last time before he stops in his stuttering pace and collapses on top of you.
The two of you stay like that for a while, catching your breath. His body encases you in a sweltering heat, crushing you but you relish in the feeling of the sticky heat between the two of you. He presses chaste kisses on the base of your neck, his breath still heavy. It's silent but you feel complete, like a part of you had been missing and you just found it. You feel perfect.
Before he moves to get off you, he takes the lace out of your mouth and meets your lips in a deep kiss. Helping you stand up, his eyes follow the way his cum dribbles out of your pussy before he's quickly stuffing it back inside.
"Keep that in there, okay?" He says before he's kissing you again.
 Both of you change quickly and in silence, you tie your hair back haphazardly, hoping you can play it off as being far too drunk to care about your appearance.
When you look back at Jungkook, you notice him shoving the ruined pair of panties in his back pocket. Raising an eyebrow in question, he chuckles. "It's my souvenir for waiting this long to get to fuck you."
You scoff, looking back at your reflection to look at your ensemble once more before you're heading towards the door. Jungkook stays back so you can make your exit first. The music is still loud, even though the crowd has thinned out since you were last out there. You move towards the kitchen and grab yourself whatever cup you see to make your lie more believable. Peering out into the living room, you don't spot Hoseok or Yoongi anywhere, though you do notice a passed out Namjoon, bonsai tree still clutched tightly against his chest.
You don't move from your spot, even when you see Jungkook emerge from Hoseok's room, and he doesn't come to you either, opting to move back to his group of friends where the girl he was with eagerly clings onto him again.
You frown, even though it hadn't bothered you before, seeing her with him leaves a heavy feeling in your chest. You watch on as he easily laughs and blends into the crowd once more until you can't ignore the feeling anymore. Shaking your head, you're quick to move towards the entrance, suddenly feeling the telltale signs of an oncoming headache.
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The following day, least to say, goes by seemingly uneventfully. Unless you count the fact that you catch Yoongi and Hoseok sitting in the kitchen when you make your way down the stairs. He’s quick to greet you with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows.
“What?” You squint, taking a seat next to him on the kitchen island.
“So you and Jeon finally get to do the nasty or what?”
“W-what?” You blanch at his words, choking at the piece of toast you'd stolen from his plate.
“Come on, don’t even try to hide it, I saw him go into my room after you, gotta admit, I really thought you'd end up with Taehyung last night but I guess I was wrong,” Hoseok shrugs, taking the stolen piece of toast back from you.
“If you thought she’d end up with Taehyung, why'd you bet on Jeon?” Yoongi grumbles, shoving a couple of bills in Hoseok’s open palm.
“Wait!” You snap, “you guys actually bet on it?”
Hoseok completely ignores your dramatic exclamation and turns to Yoongi. “Call it my own personal spidey sense, I can sense when people fuck…like I sensed that you were getting fucked yesterday.”
Yoongi’s quick to smack Hoseok across the back of his head.
“So… my grand plan worked out,” you pass a smirk to Hoseok, and hold out your palm.
“Wait you guys bet on me?” Yoongi looks between the two of you, eyes wide.
“Hey, gotta make a living and stay jobless at the same time somehow,” you shrug, counting the bills in your hand.
“Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about you and Jungkook,” Hoseok points his fork towards you. “You still have to tell me the gruesome details.”
“I’m not telling you any details, that ship sailed when you started bumping uglies with my brother.”
“Hey, I’m willing to spill, you’re the one who was so against it,” Hoseok shrugs, “Plus, I need to know if I have to burn my sheets or not.”
You pause, giving him the side-eye before you smirk. “Not your sheets… but you may want to get yourself a new desk.”
The next few days followed by slowly. You find yourself finishing off all your assignments with little to no distractions — unless you call watching the entirety of Instant Hotel a distraction. By the third day, you’re back to your normal routine and you decide that the whole thing with Jungkook was the cause of your lack of sexual gratification, and you’re totally over it. It kind of sucks that you had to literally fuck it out of your system to stop lusting over your dongsaeng, but it happened and there’s nothing you can change about it. That’s what you decide —  that you were completely okay.
Except that, you’re not. On the fifth day, you have a meltdown over the whole ordeal, and even Hoseok can’t make your anxieties go away. You avoid the backyard at all costs and don’t even turn to steal any more alcohol from your mother’s stash because, just as you blame your lack of a sex life that landed you in this situation, you also blame alcohol. This time, though, you’ve truly quit alcohol.
It’s on the seventh day that you actually see Jungkook, he doesn’t see you but that’s mostly because you duck out of sight before he gets the chance. It’s not like he was on his way to seek you out either, you see him jogging towards his dad’s truck, probably out on his way to run some errands. At least he hasn’t been hanging around your house these days, which makes the whole thing less awkward. Now, all you have to do is go through two more months just like this and you’ll be back in college, far, far away from here.
A week. It’s been a week and approximately three hours since you had gotten a glance at Jungkook. With your more recent research, you declare that you are indeed not okay. And to your luck, you have no effective distractions — Yoongi —  to your disposal. You’re home alone, having exhausted your last remaining brain cells by watching reality tv for seven hours straight. You’re casually perusing through Netflix once more because one more episode couldn’t hurt, when the doorbell rings.
You huff, wondering if you’d ordered a pizza and had forgotten about it, which seems quite impossible, but still, you don’t cancel it out completely. But what you find after opening the door is even more shocking than a forgotten pizza delivery. None other than Jeon Jungkook stands outside your front door, sheepishly smiling at you.
“Yoongi’s not home,” you say, immediately grimacing at your harsh tone, not expecting it to hold that much malice.
Jungkook’s eyes dart to the side before he nods, “Uh, yeah I know,” he clears his throat before looking back at you. “I came here to see you.”
“Okay...” you say, moving to the side so he can walk in. You make your way into the living room without waiting for him, trying really hard to appear casual but end up standing in the middle of the room with your arms crossed. “Why’d you ring the bell?” You ask once he’s inside, “And why’d you come through the front door?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I-it’s because I wanted to do things properly,” he shifts on his feet, “And I don’t think barging into the room will do us any good.”
It’s not difficult to understand what he’s referring to, making you frown at his choice of words. “Listen, if this is about that night, it’s all good okay? You don’t need to worry about that, we were drunk and these things can happen to anyone so you don’t need to bother yourself over something like that. I don’t expect you to do anything about it, I’m a big girl and I can take it,” you ramble on even though your mind is screaming at you to shut up!
“It’s not about that!” Jungkook blurts out, “Uh, I mean, is it technically about that but not what you think,” he reassures right after.
The two of you stare at each other in awkward silence for a few seconds before he breaks. “Listen, ___,” he begins, sighing. “I just wanted to apologise—”
“Like I said Jungkook, you don’t need to,” you interrupt him.
“Will you let me finish, ___?” Jungkook asks, smiling at you and the look alone has you shutting up. “As I was saying, I’m sorry for how I left things last time. I should have been more clear about my feelings.” The more he talks, the more he flushes. It’s so strange seeing Jungkook stammer around you now as if he didn’t stuff your own panties in your mouth a week ago to get you to shut up. But you can’t complain, you’ve always loved to watch him squirm.
“What I mean to say is, noona... I meant what I said that night,” he continues, “About how long I’ve waited to-” He clears his throat awkwardly. “How long I’ve waited for you.”
You still blankly stare at him, not sure where this is going at all. Was he trying to have another round? He’s probably figured out that no one was home, and honestly speaking you wouldn’t be opposed to it either…
“I like you, ___,” he blurts out. “I’ve always liked you but I never thought you even saw me as a... man… until recently. And I know we, uh, have done it, but I still wanted to formally tell you.”
A smile starts lighting up your face as he continues to stutter and stammer out a confession.
“Jeon Jungkook!” You exclaim, “Are you… asking me out?” You ask, fully grinning at him now, even though you know the answer already.
He’s bashful under your gaze, moving to rub at his red ears, “Um, yeah I am,” he says before handing you a paper bag you hadn’t noticed before. “It’s the end of the month, after all, so I guessed might as well shoot my shot.”
You take the bag, peering at it curiously until you take out what’s inside: a bottle of Pinot Noir.
7K notes · View notes
zibermuda · 7 months ago
ego killer (1) | jjk
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Summary — Campus fuck-boy and notorious flirt can’t keep his eyes off you, but you’re unfazed by his remarks. That all changes when he takes it too far at a party and you’ve officially had enough. 
Genre — smut (e2l, fuck-boy!jk, nerdy!reader)
Words — 11,292
Warnings — unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), tongue fucking, deep dicking, dirty talk, thigh riding, fingering, tongue sucking, breath play, biting, licking, hair pulling, hickeys, jks dad is an asshole, mentions of abuse and alcohol consumption, swearing
one | two | three/final
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masterlist || request
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Just as you’re convinced your day couldn’t possibly get any worse, an unwelcome student decides to pull up the seat next to you. Out of every other chair in this one-hundred-plus lecture theatre, Jeon Jungkook just has to sit here. He’s the notorious campus fuck-boy, ladies’ man and everything else that comes with looking like that; dark, wavy hair, pretty eyes, and body proportions out of this world. You won’t deny that he’s attractive, but looks like that only cause trouble and you have a squeaky-clean reputation to maintain. 
“Morning, gorgeous.” He gazes at your face as he awaits a response, but you decide it’s in your best interest to ignore him.
Huge mistake!
Your silence ignites something in him and he makes it his mission to get some kind of reaction. Anything. Maybe a little smile, a laugh, or even a classic eye-roll.
“Playing hard to get. I like it.”
This is so very like him. If he’s not on the receiving end of attention, he convinces himself that there’s an ulterior motive. Your reasoning; you hate him with your whole mind, body, and soul, and you couldn’t give a flying fuck about his shallow compliments, OR if he’s nearing 6ft, OR if he’s the president of multiple social, theatre, and fitness clubs, AND has the record for the highest number of members in a non-educational club! No, you couldn’t care less!
Out of the handful of ridiculous names he’s given his clubs, one has been titled ‘GAINS’ — Gym and Important Nutrition Society. Classic, right? But, despite the negative feelings you have toward him and everything else he does, other students seem to love him. His toned biceps and thick thighs make a very compelling ‘join us’ statement, too.
In contrast and in the good name of education, you formed a marketing club and handed yourself the president badge. And, ever since then, you’ve been doing your bit as an official influencer to students who actually want to learn something from college.
“I can see your panties, by the way.” He adds and you want to drop dead from humiliation. Scratch that. You want to send a pencil through his eye socket for being such a pervert!
An embarrassed heat threatens to crawl up the side of your neck at his observation. Your skirt isn’t even that short! He’s just a boy with a huge ego, eager eyes and a dirtier mouth. But, to save yourself from further humiliation, you tug the fabric down your thighs and tightly cross your legs until the circulation of blood in your legs becomes a little unbalanced. 
“Hey, I wasn’t complaining. You’re hot as hell.” His eyes wander down the length of your bare legs. It’s so obvious that he’s checking you out. He’s practically leaning all the way back in his chair to get a good look. “Even if you wear Hello Kitty panties.”
Oh my god! Please shut the fuck up!
He’s a nuisance for the rest of the lecture; bantering with nearby students, etching explicit imagery on the desk with the tip of a pen, and doodling on the corner of your page when you’re too busy looking up front to notice. The only time you pay him any real mind is when he taps his sneaker against your ankle. He apologises with a small smile each time, but he’s definitely doing it on purpose. 
It doesn’t stop there. He keeps it up for many more days, which makes for a hellish week. You can barely tolerate lectures with this man-child actively scoping you out through the crowd of students just to sit next to you. It doesn’t even matter if the seat next to you already has an occupant. He just asks them to move. It’s humiliating.
It doesn’t stop there, either. Jungkook always finds a way to annoy you, whether it be copying your notes, going into extreme detail about his previous evening (who even has that much sex?) or (by far his favourite) dragging his eyes down the length of your legs. It doesn’t even matter that you’ve now opted for ill-fitted jeans. He’s already seen your legs and he knows they’re somewhere under all that denim.
“You partying tonight?” He slaps a bendy ruler against his thigh out of sheer boredom. There’s less than twenty minutes left of class. Just ignore him. “You’d look good in a bikini.”
Out of all the ludicrous things he’s said to you over the past week, this one sits relatively high on the list. So, it’s practically impossible to not shift your eyes and send a glare his way. He’s dressed in slightly baggy plaid pants, a black shirt and a denim jacket. If it weren’t for his crazy aura of confidence, he probably wouldn’t be able to make the outfit work.
“Cute.” He smiles at your less-than-intimidating expression.  
Calling you ‘cute’ is something he does painstakingly often; when you frown and your nose scrunches a little, when you change up the font in which you take notes, and especially when you rest your chin against your palm. It's all very cute to him.
Today is Friday, which means a notorious campus party will take place later tonight. Campus parties occur on the regular and are organised by a different faculty each week. The Science Faculty organised last week’s rendezvous, but it didn’t exactly follow community guidelines. Science students dumped a fuck-ton of urine-indicator dye in the swimming pool to weed out the pool-pissers, set off a dozen fireworks down the dormitory hallway, and painted a few doors with glow-in-the-dark paint. Fortunately, nobody was injured, but a few were embarrassed by the piss detection and others were annoyed at their glowing door. Generally, you try to stay out of it.
“Come on, Hello Kitty.” He leans his elbow on the desk and watches you watch him. You hadn’t cared to notice it before, but he has a tattoo of a eucalyptus leaf running down the side of his hand. “You don’t wanna talk to me?”
He can keep prying all he wants, but you’re not going to entertain him. He’ll get bored eventually. That's generally how the mind of a child works.
If you're not spending your time sat in the library, reading romance novels, or sipping on flavoured water, you're lingering in the Student Guild. So, that’s exactly where you head after said class from hell. Within the building are a variety of pop-up food and drink stands, but your go-to is the fruit juice stand, mainly because the guy who runs it is invested in hearing your rants and handing out advice like he’s fifty years older than you. He’s not. He graduated only last year.
“Give me the strongest drink you have.” You slap your palms against the counter and breathe a deep sigh of exhaustion. "I'm in dire need."
“Well.." Seokjin, said 50-year-old-but-21-year-old-graduate, rummages around in a crate full of fresh fruit and vegetables. He seems to enjoy his side-job, but you would be bored to death if you had to stick fruit in a blender for hours on end. "..Pineapple juice should do the trick."
Your eyes wander from the produce to the nearby green, where Jungkook is bantering and being obnoxiously loud with his friends. They've scuffed the grass by purposely digging their heels into the earth and by tackling each-other to the ground.
If there's one thing to note about Jungkook and his ridiculous lineup of friends, it's that they have zero filter or respect for private property. Many, many stories have been tossed around campus depicting their idiotic rendezvous; spraying the chancellors office door with silly string, leaving an entire roast chicken in one of the boys toilets, and even climbing on top of the campus clock tower at fuck-o-clock in the morning.
Jungkook isn't the brightest student, but he did try to best (to an extent) to get into college. His problem is apparent; he got in, so he stopped putting in effort and resorted to turning in half-assed papers. If he doesn't pull his head out of his ass, he won't be graduating with any of those friends.
"Let me guess." Seokjin grabs an entire pineapple and throws it in the blender. Skin and all. "Tense stance and jaw, wide eyes, clenched fists.. You're thinking of Jungkook?"
"Aren't you supposed to cut the skin off?" You ask with a frown. 
"Precisely." He closes the lid and slams his palm on the plastic to ensure that it’s sat on tightly. "But, it's green and nutrients comes from green stuff. I'm sure it'll taste just fine."
Seokjin feels like he should exercise his duty of care and disclose every single detail about Jungkook. After all, he’s not as simple as everyone thinks he is. Nobody is. How can you possibly know what anyone is thinking at any given moment?
“You should be careful, by the way.” He adds as you’re glaring at the noisy group of boys. “He's complicated beyond belief."
"Complicated? In what way?"
"Mega daddy issues. Probably doesn't know how to treat a woman at all."
"I thought he lived on campus."
"Nah, he started that rumour so he wouldn't have to give out information on his family life."
"How do you know any of this?"
Seokjin sticks a straw and an umbrella in the juice before offering it to you. The colour is a slime green and doesn’t look appetising in the slightest. "I know a lot of things. Plus, I talk with the staff of this place. You’d be surprised what they’ll do for a coffee and a chocolate muffin."
You take a leisurely sip of the pineapple drink and savour the strange taste on your tongue. It’s a bit gritty, but it tastes alright. 
“Swirl it all around your mouth to get the full effect.” He nods toward the cardboard cup. “That’s what Mother Nature’s pussy tastes like.” 
“Charming. It’s definitely waking me up.”
“Good. That means you’ll have the energy to be at tonights party.” 
College parties aren’t college parties if a handful of graduates don’t join and encourage stupid and reckless behaviour. Seokjin isn’t that reckless, though. He usually stands by the table of drinks and internally rates peoples outfits. He works part-time at an accounting firm, so he’s become accustomed to categorising everything and anything that comes his way. 
Word has already spread in various group chats and through questionable emails sent by monitored student emails; the Business School students have had this weeks party baton handed to them. What could they possibly muster up? You might be thinking; a civil get-together at a local community hall, maybe a party in a wild flower field, or even a wine tasting event filled with discussions of the law and its loopholes. Nope! Persuading the sport staff to 'forget' to lock up the campus swimming pool is shockingly easy, and law students are pretty fucking good at being persuasive. 
“No, I can’t go. I have a date with Netflix.”
“Taehyung’s going.” 
And, that, ladies and gentlemen, is all that it takes for you to head back to your dormitory, throw on a bikini top, and add a little more mascara to your eyelashes. 
Kim Taehyung; the backbone of this campus, the star quarterback, the man behind symmetry, and your crush (five months going strong!). You can’t help but turn into an awkward, puberty-ridden pre-teen whenever he’s around. He once said ‘hey’ to you during a class and you responded with a very blunt ‘goodbye.’ And, despite your ever-growing crush, you've not done much to attract his attention. Your idea of dressing up is cuffing your jeans and tightening the laces of your sneakers. 
At 7:38PM, you make your way to the aquatic centre after spending an hour tinkering with your shorts and other externalities that nobody actually cares about. It’s not hard to locate — the blaring music and the crowd of drunk students are both a good indicator. The pool is 25 meters in length and lit by alternating rainbow LED lights, and a handful of students have already submerged in the water. You won't become one of them, you note. Swimming with a bunch of drunken students isn't your thing, nor is getting hypothermia. 
Cautiously, you sit yourself on the edge of the pool and dip your feet into the water. It's fucking freezing, but it cools off your hot skin and does an alright job at easing your racing thoughts. 
Why did you come, again? Oh, right. Kim Taehyung! He's nowhere to be seen. You've ran your eyes over every corner of this venue, but his broad shoulders haven’t greeted your eyes yet. What if he's not coming? This would be such a waste of time. Hang on a minute. Why are you revolving your night around some guy who probably doesn't even know your last name? God. Maybe you are an awkward, pre-teen with a big, fat, unreciprocated crush..
You're way too immersed in your own head to pay attention any other person, but someone has absolutely noticed you. For the sake of this story, it's none other than Jeon Jungkook. He’d previously been splashing water at his friends and play fighting; holding each-others heads underwater until someone taps out. It's madness and a recipe for homicide. 
You look good to him — you may look like a loner with a fear of water — but, you look so fucking good. Maybe it's the way your thighs are pressed up against the concrete, or the way the fabric of your bikini clings to your tits. Jungkook is a simple man. He sees a pretty girl; he wants her on his lap. He sees a great pair of tits; he wants them in his mouth. ‘Dirty’ doesn’t begin to describe the thoughts that linger in his mind. ‘Filthy’ is a lot closer, but not close enough. 
"Fancy seeing you here." He runs his fingers through his damp hair and lingers by your dangling feet. And, despite your bikini top being less than revealing, he proceeds to drag his eager eyes over the exposed skin. "I told you you'd look good in a bikini."
His body is exactly what you'd expect; completely athletic, toned to the core, and kissed many times by the sun. His skin is a golden honey tone all over and it makes you wonder what the fuck he wears (or doesn't wear) when he's out in the sun.
You're not sure whether to splash water at his face, literally drown him, or just roll your eyes and ignore him like you usually would. The latter seems like the safest bet, so you do just that.
“Loosen up, Hello Kitty.”
“Stop calling me that!”
He likes the sound of your voice. It’s evident by the shift in his expression and he way he slides his hands closer to your thigh. You can see the entirely of his tattoo now that his hands are resting on the concrete. Ink suits his skin, but that doesn’t make him any less of an idiot. 
“Hello Kitty.” He repeats only because you told him not to. That's just who he is and how he rolls. If somebody told him not to eat a rock, he would simply take a bite out of it. "Such a pretty kitty."
The eye-roll you produce has the potential to be in the ‘top 5 eye-rolls of all time.’ Any average person would take the hint, but Jungkook isn’t any average person. He’s 80% ego, 13% thick thighs, and 7% of the funds contributed to the local bingo residency hall. Yup, you read that right. When he’s bored of throwing toilet paper at peoples houses and pissing in mailboxes, he mingles with a group of retired elderly ladies. Flirts, if you will. Nobody knows why, but everybody knows he does it. 
"Haven't you got laps to swim or something?"
"I wanna swim laps in you."
"Genuine question: has that ever worked before?" You ask over the blaring music. "You have major issues."
“I see a pretty girl..” His eyes wander your figure with very little shame and it takes him a moment or two to return back to yours. His irritating addition follows in suit. "..And, I wanna make her mine.”
"That's a bad habit."
"You're a bad habit."
"Seriously? What are you? Nine?"
"Inches, yeah." You walked right into that one. “Wanna find out later?” 
You could spend your time glaring at him while he grins back, or you could stand up and head toward the wobbly table of drinks. There’s not much choice, though; copious amount of vodka and lemonade to chase it down. Students bring whatever alcohol they can find in their parents house or hidden in their dormitory closets. There’s not much to bring, though, because most students have to take a shot after writing an introduction to an essay.
Water droplets drip down his bare chest and it makes it near impossible for you to come up with another insult. How can someone that hot be such a fucking dick? It’s a very disappointing combination. 
Just as you open your mouth to say something worth your while, a stranger takes a seat next to you. Only, this symmetrical man with golden blonde hair is no stranger to you. This man is Kim Taehyung and his arm is now slung over your shoulder like he’s an old friend from middle school. Relax! Be cool!
“Annoying, right?” Taehyung nods toward a blasé looking Jungkook before returning his gaze toward your wide eyes. You feel like you could melt just from his pretty eyes, let alone from his touch. “He’s like a little puppy. Always begging for attention.”
Jungkook scoffs at the blatant jab. They’re not close friends, but they’re both extroverts beyond belief. Sparking up conversation is a trait that should be typed up on their resume. They’re professionals. “Speak for yourself.” 
And, with that, Jungkook splashes a little water at your bare thighs and heads back to his friends, where he continues to drown them. Once again, madness. 
In the meantime, Taehyung sparks up harmless conversation with you. He asks about college, your family, and even asks to compare hand sizes. It’s the most you’ve ever spoken, but it’s the best conversation you’ve ever had in your nineteen years of life. The entire interaction makes your head foggy and stuffs your insides with butterflies. He makes you laugh, he compliments you, and he doesn’t shy away from touching your hand or slinging his arm over your shoulder. You’re not sure what you did to warrant such attention, but you’d be a fool to complain about a single thing. 
Jungkook has been keeping an eye on the interaction and he catches the way Taehyung’s eyes dart to your lips when you speak. You, on the other hand, are too busy trying to avoid eye contact like a shy school-girl to realise. You’ve spent the past twenty minutes staring at your feet and throwing Taehyung the odd glance here and there. He finds it cute, but so does Jungkook. But, he wants you to be doing this dumb shit with him, not with Taehyung. He saw you first.
If Jungkook’s spider senses are right (they’re definitely tingling), then Taehyung has plans of hooking up with you tonight. That can’t happen on his watch. You’re like a rare gem and he wants to be the one to taint you, not quarterback Taehyung with two perfect parents and an even better GPA. Jungkook called dibs a long time ago, which is precisely why he wanders over to put a stop to whatever mischievous plan Taehyung has brewing. There will be no sex, no kissing, and no more flirting!
“You’re really pretty.” Taehyung says with a dashing smile contorting his mouth. “We should hang out more.” 
And, right on cue, he places a hand on your chin and tilts your face toward his. Your heart is in your throat at this point. Your dream man is about to kiss you. This cannot be happening, but it is. You can smell a little alcohol on his breath, but it’s the best thing you’ve ever smelled. His lips are inching closer and closer, his eyes are fluttering shut, it’s about to happen—
"Alright, love-birds." Jungkook slides his hand down the gap between your faces to put a hold to the kiss before it even has the chance to begin. You feel like you’ve just been edged. You feel like somebody has just taken away an essential organ. "Let's wrap it up!"
“What’s your problem?!” You raise your voice until it towers over the background music. Taehyung definitely doesn’t expect you to be so angry over this, even though you’ve always been a little strange whenever he’s had the chance to speak to you in the past. “Why do you keep ruining everything?!”
Jungkook grins at your discomfort and it sends you completely overboard. He doesn’t care about anything and it pisses you off so much. He has no regard for other people and it makes you want to sock him in the mouth as hard as you possibly can. But, you’re not the type to resort to physical violence, so you resort to your words. When used right, those are just as much of a weapon as your fists. 
“Really? You’re just gonna smile like an idiot?” 
“Yeah, it’s funny.” Jungkook taps the tip of your nose and smiles a little wider when you slap his hand away with a frown contorting your face. You’re so cute to him. He loves annoying you. “Don’t be so angry, Hello Kitty. It doesn’t suit you.” 
Taehyung isn’t as bothered as you are. He could kiss anyone he wants tonight, so this is nothing more than a small loss in his championship. Hey, there’s always next Friday! He already knows that his new-found interest in you is only because Jungkook is somehow interested, too. Whatever Jungkook wants, Taehyung will steal it right from his grasp. 
“I hate you so much!”
“I think you’re in love with me.” 
“You’re so full of yourself!”
The pair of you go back and forth bickering like an old, married couple until he drives you over the edge completely with an unnecessary innuendo. 
“Did you just say you wanna be full of me?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you!” You yell a little too abruptly. A lot of the party attendees are looking your way and muttering among themselves about the strange ordeal. Sure, many girls have yelled at Jungkook for being a dickhead after a one-night-stand, but none have yelled at him without having had sex. It’s intriguing. “You’ve slept with every fucking girl on campus and each of them know just how much of a dickhead you are! The only reason you still get laid is because you’re easy!”
Jungkook is still grinning, but his mind is wandering to a completely different place. Yeah, he’s slept with a lot of girls, and yeah, most have told him how much of a dick he is for cutting them off right after. What about it? 
“A toy!” You add with an unprecedented bitterness in your tone. “You’re a toy that girls like to use! Haven’t you noticed? You think you have every girl wrapped around your finger, but you’re so fucking wrong!” 
Your words hurt him more than he ever imagined they would, but he doesn’t know why. He feels like he’s just been asked to recite the Pythagorus Theorem with the way his mind is blanking and trying to cling onto something that makes even the slightest bit of sense. You’re smart, so he relies on copying your notes in class. You’re smart, so maybe you’re right about him and his outcast status on campus. He’s never felt this way before. It’s odd. It doesn’t feel nice.
Jungkook looks at you and then he looks around at all the bystanders. None of them look sympathetic in the slightest. In fact, a lot of them are nodding to one-another and enforcing your bitchy words. He has a reputation and everybody knows him by it. They don’t know him any deeper than that.
His expression shifts to one of confusion and he walks away with his head low and his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He feels totally humiliated for the first time in his life and he doesn’t like the feeling at all. 
“That was a bit mean.” Taehyung notes, but he doesn’t truly care. He’s just here for the show. He couldn’t give two fucks about Jungkook. The two of them have never seen eye to eye. 
You nibble on your bottom lip and slowly start to regret everything you just screamed in anger. You want to gather all of those words and stuff them back in your mouth, but you can’t. You’ve really gone and done it now. You’ve managed to upset to most un-upsettable boy on campus. Congrats! 
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Jungkook doesn't sit next to you during lectures or annoy you like he usually would. He doesn't even look in your direction anymore. He seems like a completely different person, but he's not. He's just hurt and you've never experienced a hurt Jungkook before. You didn't even think he had the capabilities of feeling anything other than horny and a gym pump. Oh, how wrong you were and how awful of you to convince yourself that he doesn't feel as deeply as others. That was your first mistake. 
You feel horrible and you desperately want to apologise and clear this entire thing up. That has been exceedingly difficult, though, because he always leaves class a few minutes early to avoid you. He even stops showing up to parties just to lessen the chance of running into you. This madness continues for almost two weeks, and during that time, you type up at least twelve apology letters. None of them are good enough.
You can’t just send him an email. You doubt he’s ever checked his emails in his entire life. No, you need to put on a brave face and talk to him in person. But, it’s 9:31PM right now and his whereabouts is completely unknown to you. 
Someone ought to know where he is, right? Your theory is validated once you poke your head out of your dorm-room and ask two girls who are gossiping about something insignificant in the hallway. Their confident reply is ‘the gym’, so you muster up the courage to head there in the darkness of the evening.
Right by the entrance is a vending machine full of protein shakes and snacks, so you decide on getting him one. What’s an apology without a cheap gift? With a chocolate protein shake in hand and a fast-paced heart, you push open the doors of the gym and wander around like a lost child in a supermarket. It’s completed deserted. Of course it is! It’s nearing 10PM. But, one body with a head of dark, tousled hair is working the lat machine; Jungkook. He's tugging on the bar like he’s training to get the biggest back muscles in the world. He's definitely on his way there.
“Hey.” You clear your throat before speaking any further. “I got you this. It’s chocolate.”
“I don’t drink milk.” He says mid-pull, but his voice doesn’t hold the usual playfulness you’re conditioned to. You’ve officially pissed him off. “And, I don’t like chocolate.”
You frown at the blatant lie. “But, I saw you skull an entire carton of chocolate milk this morning.”
“Go away, Y/N.” His back muscles constantly flex through his white, sweat-slick shirt. It’s quite mesmerising. “Haven’t you got an essay to write or something? Miss goody two shoes."
The bench he’s seated at is long enough for a person to rest their back on and perform bench presses, so you take a seat at the very edge and fiddle with the chocolate shake. “Jungkook, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry and I was very wrong.”
“Don’t care.”
“And, I do think you’re hot.” You add in hopes it’ll persuade him further. “The hottest guy I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t care.” He repeats. “I don’t need you telling me what I already know.”
Alright. That doesn’t feel great. You now have an idea of how he felt all those days he spent hitting on you, only to receive a glare and an eye-roll in return. 
There has to be something else you can say that’ll redeem you. You can’t believe the chocolate milk hasn’t cut it, though. What's something that he really likes? Something he can't resist even if he tried?
"We can hang out, if you want. Y'know.. Get drunk and do something crazy."
"No, thanks."
Seriously? That had been his only agenda ever since he stepped foot in college. There has to be something else, but you can't think of what. You don’t know anything about the gym, about soccer, or about swimming teams. But then, your mind runs over every conversation you've ever had with him until something prominent sticks out. Hello Kitty.
“I’m wearing Hello Kitty panties.”
Out of everything that could come out of your mouth, he definitely wasn’t expecting that, which is precisely why the bar slips from his fingers and pings against the upper metal of the machine. A little perplexed and a little more horny, he then turns to you and drags his gaze from your thighs to your eyes. It makes your heart race and your head slightly foggy. “Oh, really? Prove it.”
“This is a public space.”
“That didn't stop you from ripping into me the other day."
"You pissed me off!" You retort with an accidental eye-roll. "You kept cock-blocking the entire night!"
"Cock-blocking." He repeats with growing amusement. "You think Taehyung's gonna fuck you?"
"I think I have a chance, yeah."
"That's really funny considering you're in here offering to show me your panties."
He's got you trapped in a really tight fucking corner. Fuck, does he think you're pathetic now? Are you that inexperienced and attention deprived that you'd feel no regret in flirting with more than one guy at a time? Was this his plan all along? To make you sink to rock bottom just for this very opportunity? The chances of that are below zero, you know that, but your mind won’t stop racing. He’s so fucking hot. You already know that. You’ve known that from day one, but there’s something exceedingly sexy about the way he’s looking at you right now. His brown eyes are so pretty, but they’re filled with a desire for you. 
"Show me, then." He leans closer to see how you'll react. Evidently, you're way to caught up in your racing thoughts and the new-found throbbing between your thighs to put a stop to this madness, so he moves close enough until his lips graze against your own. It’s a new sensation for the both of you. He might just eat you alive if you keep looking at him like that; like a good girl that’ll do anything he asks of you. "If someone gets to fuck you, it's gonna be me."
And, then he kisses you. It lacks any and all romantic qualities, but isn't lacking in tongue and lewd hand placement on your inner thigh. It's the most passionate kiss you've ever shared in your entire life, and when he pulls away, you're left breathless and wanting so much more. 
"Come on, pretty kitty. Be nice to me for once." He says lowly with those eyes trained on yours. "I'll fuck you whenever you want. It'll be our little secret."
Why the fuck are you actually considering having sex with Jungkook? He’s the guy you've despised since day one and the guy who has slept with most of the population. Also, why are you falling for his charms and the way he looks into your eyes? He knows what he's doing, but you don't. You’re so attracted to him right now and you can’t stop the feeling. Is it because the two of you are alone and he’s being a lot more intimate than he would during a lecture? 
"Whenever I want?" You ask so quietly, it might as well be a whisper. 
That's when he knows he has you right where you're supposed to be. "However you want. Can I touch you right now?"
The small nod of confirmation is all he needs to run two fingers along his tongue before dipping them beneath the waistband of your jeans. Never in a million years did you think you'd become one of those students; one who has no respect for the public and is willing to have sex in the literal campus gym. This can't be hygienic. This can't be safe, either. What if someone walks in and sees you sitting here with his hand down your pants and his lips on your neck? You'd never live it down. You might just die from embarrassment.
"Wait.." You put a stop to his fingers before they have the chance to run underneath your panties. It takes a lot of strength to do that. "Can we do this somewhere else?"
Somewhere else: in a private space, completely away from any lingering eyes, and away from the threat of being caught. You’re not completely void of morals and self respect. 
He doesn't complain at the request. In fact, all he does is follow you back to your dormitory while pinging your bra against your skin and placing goosebump-inducing kisses against the side of your neck. 
When you reach your dorm-room, the story shifts completely and he's quick to return his tongue to your mouth and place his hands on your ass. He’s wanted to do that for so long. The kiss is filthy, but it feels so fucking good. It’s slow, but saliva-dominated and led entirely by his tongue. It ignites everything in you, but, most importantly, arousal. He’s the best guy you’ve ever kissed in your life, but it’s not like you have a long history of candidates. His tongue knows exactly where to lick and he even takes your bottom lip between his teeth to elicit a reaction. 
His shirt comes off somewhere during the heated make-out session and your fingers find refuge raking through his soft hair. And, when he runs his hand up your hips and takes the fabric of your own shirt with him, you break the kiss to look down at yourself. That’s when it hits you; you’re about to be completely naked in front of him. You can’t help but feel timid. He’s definitely seen prettier girls with prettier bodies than you. 
"That shy girl shit is overrated." His voice is oozing with sex. He wants to prove that he wants you and he does by taking your hand and running your fingers down his pecs, down his defined abdomen, and then against the prominent outline of his cock straining against his sweatpants. "I want you so bad."
He means it and you believe him, but the lingering shyness doesn’t fade. He tugs off your shirt, unzips your jeans, and stands back to get a good look at you. It does nothing to help out your shyness. If anything, it makes it worse.
You’re wearing cotton panties with a cutesy Hello Kitty artwork printed on the front, and he really, really wants to fuck you so hard because of it. He can’t stop imagining the way you’d look if he were to run his cock against your face, but that’s for another day. He has a strong feeling that one night won’t be enough time with you. 
“You’re so fucking sexy.” With finesse, he pushes your back onto the mattress and reaches underneath you for the clasp of your bra. Surprise, surprise; he’s a fucking expert at taking it off. 
Maybe tonight will be the best sex you’ve ever had. Confidence plays such a huge roll in sex and he’s literally dripping in it. You’re definitely dripping in something, but it’s not confidence. He has an unprecedented amount of sex appeal, especially when he holds eye-contact, leans over you, and lets you look at his toned body. He knows he’s hot and he knows that his muscles flex with each one of his movement. He’s built every single muscle on his body to perfection and it’s so fucking hard to not get a good look. His biceps, thighs, pecs, abs. You could probably get off just by looking. 
"Such a good girl.” He takes his time as he runs his hands from your throat down to your hips. Everything about your body is a stimulant. He has imagined how you would look naked more times than he can count, but the real thing is so much better. “So pretty all the time, baby. You turn me on all the time.” 
He drags his tongue up your naval before wrapping his lips around your nipple and swirling his tongue around your skin. And, with ease and confidence, he dips his fingers beneath your cotton panties to run his digits against your clit. The double stimulation is something you've never had the pleasure of experiencing, but you’re totally happy that you’re feeling it now. 
As much as your sweet sounds turn him on, it makes him wonder how inexperienced you may be. He's not the type to fuck virgins. It's too much of a hassle and there's a part of him that feels regret to be somebody's first. He doesn't want attachment. No strings at all. 
"Have you been touched before?" He halts the movements of his fingers.
"Yes." You’re breathless already. You want to beg for him not to stop, but you contain yourself. 
"Don't lie." He tugs you further down the mattress and grins a little at your bewildered expression. "I haven't done anything yet and you’re already gonna come."
"I've been touched!" You retort with a bit more defence than you’d intended. "Just.. not like this."
"Have you been fucked?" He leans down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, and as he pulls away, you’re left breathless and your mouth is left missing the finesse of his tongue.
"Not like this." His words are laced with cockiness, but it isn’t a lie. He doesn’t fuck you at first, though. That’s too easy. He wants to touch your skin, to feel your arousal drip down your thighs and pool on his own skin. He wants to tease your pussy with his tongue, to suck on your clit until you come in his mouth. He wants to do it all, but his first act is to sit you on his lap, dig his fingers into your hips, and help you grind your pussy against his thigh until you’re panting and sinking your nails into his shoulders. His thigh does its rightful job of flexing and stimulating your clit, while his fingers wrap around your throat and his lips suck on your tongue. It’s a filthy sight; something you never thought you’d see yourself in, but it feels so fucking good. 
“Pretty girl.” He praises against your open lips. “Such a good girl.”
Your eyes are shut, your thighs are shaking, and pretty moans are slipping from your mouth and falling into his. He swears he’s never seen or heard anything so sexy, but he knows that you’ll come if he makes you do this any longer. So, he switches it up by returning you to the mattress, but in a completely different position that before. Ass up, face down; just how he likes it, just the right position to fuck you as deeply as humanly possible. 
"Pretty kitty." He praises before licking a harsh stripe from your clit to your lower back. The filthy act earns a whimper from your lips and a more intense throbbing in-between your thighs.. "I'm gonna destroy this pussy."
He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks like you’re his favourite candy and he doesn’t care if he gets toothache. You might as well be. You’re so sweet on his tongue. 
Your back immediately arches and a deep moan falls from your lips at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your clit. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before and once he adds his fingers to the mix, you repeat the same phrase in your head. This is absolutely like nothing you’ve ever felt before.
He runs his fingers along your folds before pushing one deep inside of your pussy until his palm rubs against your clit; all while lapping up your arousal and nipping on your inner thighs with his teeth. He loves it when your thighs shake and when your moans turn into whines. He could come just by the sound. 
After all is said and done, he trails his tongue along your skin and leaves a deep love-bite beside the dimple of your back; a good reminder that he was here and nobody has ever made you feel this way. And, then he teases his cock against your sensitive entrance before sinking into you until his lower abdomen hits the top of your bare ass. A deep groan falls from his lips at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He swears on his life that he’s never felt a pussy like this. 
His fingers run from your lower back to the back of your head, where he takes your hair in his hand. Someone could walk in right now and you wouldn’t ask him to stop. This sex is beyond masturbation and beyond being fingered by a short-term boyfriend who you met in a marketing class in your first year. Way, way beyond. Jungkook fucks you deeper than you’ve ever known was possible, pays attention to your clit by reaching underneath you and rubbing against it with his fingers; all while tugging on your hair to keep you exactly where he wants you. You’re gonna come tonight. Jesus, fuck. You might come more than once tonight.
"Such a good girl, right?" His voice grows hoarse, but it’s still dripping profusely in lust. You've never heard anything so worthy of making your pussy tighten. "What would Taehyung say if he saw you like this?" 
He's fucking you with such strength that you can't seem to muster up the power to verbalise a response. All you can comprehend is the sound of his own stuttering breath, the sound of his skin hitting yours, and your own moans as they tumble from your lips. Your mouth remains ajar and your own saliva has started pooling at your chin. It's definitely a sight to behold. You don’t even want to imagine what anyone would say upon seeing this. Jungkook knows exactly what he wants to say. He knows what he wants to hear, too. 
“Come on, answer me.” He tightens his grip on your hair and tilts your head to the side to put his tongue in your mouth. It takes your breath away. And, when he pulls away, a string of saliva connects both of your lips his lips. “Your voice turns me on.” 
"Mad." You manage to breathe out in-between pitchy whines. Your fingers grip onto your bed-sheets with each of his thrusts. "He'd be—  Oh, fuck! Mad!"
"Yeah? Cause I get to tear this tight pussy open and he doesn't?"
You’ve never heard anything so filthy in your entire life, but you’ve also never been fucked so well in your entire life. This is exactly why you feel no shame in drooling like a kitten and moaning out his name each time he sinks back into you. His moans are a stimulant in themselves and make you tighten your walls around his cock each time. It’s a constant cycle. 
The sex lasts so long to the point where you began to forget that you actually exist. All you know is that you’re on your third orgasm and your thighs won’t stop shaking. Your skin is sore, your scalp is sore, there are tears in your eyes, your throat is dry. He fucks you until you can’t take it anymore; all while muttering the filthiest shit you’ve ever heard. He fucks you until you’re on the verge of sobbing, and until his hips stutter and he pulls out to come on your lower back. 
As he looks at your fucked-out body beneath him, he knows for certain that he wants to do this again. That was the tightest pussy he’s ever had the honour of fucking and he swears he’s never come that quick during sex before. "We could make this a thing, y'know."
"A thing?" You repeat, a little uneasy. You’re surprised you can even speak. 
"Yeah.” He confirms as he reaches for the box of tissues sat atop your bed-side table. He does his part in wiping his cum from your lower back and running his hands along your sore skin. His touch is comforting. “I'll fuck you whenever you want, and in return, you'll help me pass my units."
That might sound like a jolly good idea in his mind, but it rings some alarms in yours. You see, you’re a hopeless romantic with dreams of a beautiful, white wedding and three little children. He, on the other hand, doesn’t know what it is to be in a committed relationship. He never has. 
"Is that such a good idea?" You gather the remaining strength in you to shuffle onto your side. Your body feels like it needs sixty hours of rest to recover. But, respectfully, that was the best sex you think you’ll ever experience in your life. Why should you deprive yourself of more of it? "I mean.. What if one of us catches feelings? It’s possible.."
"You're funny." He humours as he leans down to capture your mouth in yet another dirty kiss. Again, it leaves you breathless and wanting more. You want him to stay a little longer, but that’s not how he rolls. “I’ll text you.”
“But, you don’t have my number.”
“I’ve had your number since first year. Asked one of your friends for it.” 
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Jungkook cuts you a deal; on Thursday's, he fucks you until your thighs are red from his palm and until you tap out from exhaustion. And, in exchange, you help him get through his units. No love, no dating, no labels. 
However, once a week becomes too little. There's something about the way you look when you touches you; like you're completely wrapped up in him, like you’re not thinking of anyone else. It’s different to how his usual one-night stands pan out. It makes him feel different; seen, heard, shy almost. Almost. He’s definitely not shy when it comes to asking for you, though. He’ll be sitting on a bus filled with commuters and conservative elders, and will feel no shame in using voice-to-text to get his message across:
[20 November, 2:21AM]
[Jungkook]: wanna fuck?
[You]: ok
[23 November, 6:04PM]
[Jungkook]: wanna fuck
[You]: okay
[24 November, 10:46AM]
[Jungkook]: what the fuck is a credit and debit
[You]: page 26 of the textbook will tell you :)
[Jungkook]: thanks i wanna fuck you tho lol
He often studies the way your lips part as he runs his fingers down your sternum, and the way your breath stutters as he sinks into you. He finds it fucking frightening, but he sometimes avoids blinking just so he doesn’t miss you. You're such a good girl on the surface, but a girl he fucks hard behind closed doors. And, to put in plainly, he likes being the only one to know about your double sided life. Ruining you is fun for him, as is fucking you from the back while his fingers abuse your clit.
After all is said and done, teasing you about your underwear choice is a whole lot more fun. He likes the way you frown as he holds your discarded panties above his head so you can’t reach them. It’s fun to have sex with someone like you. But, it feels more intimate at times and that’s what scares him. You’re not supposed to look so pretty with his fingers or his cock in your mouth, and you’re definitely not supposed to look so pretty when you’re sat in the library with dark bags under your eyes and a pencil between your lips. 
Instead of kicking your ankle with his sneakers or stealing your pens to annoy you during lectures, he places his hand on your inner thigh, drapes his arm behind your chair, or leans in to whisper suggestive innuendos in your ear. Most students know that you’re sleeping together, but all of them know that it’ll never be anything more. Jungkook isn’t the type to catch feelings. He’s fucked the hottest girls on campus, but hasn’t ever offered anything more. 
Sometimes, you’re too busy with college work to meet up with him, and that makes him feel a little left out. You’re becoming his routine and he’s starting to feel out of place whenever he doesn’t see you. It’s a total head-fuck. 
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On a late Tuesday afternoon, Jungkook catches you as you’re reading a sickly-sweet romance novel in the library; Love In The Time of Cholera by García Márquez. His first reaction upon seeing you is to snatch the novel from your hands and read the first sentence out loud. 
“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century..” He plays out the dramatics by clutching his chest. “ repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everla—.” 
You’ve fallen in a deep pit of humiliation at this point, so your next appropriate move is to snatch back the novel and stuff it deep within your bag. 
“Any sex in that book?” He grins and pulls up a seat next to you. “More importantly.. Have you touched yourself today?” 
“You’re unbelievable.”
“You’ve told me that before.” He leans closer to whisper the innuendo, but it’s not like he actually cares if others hear. It’s about the dramatics and the delivery of a flirty line. “Wanna hang out?”
“Hang out.” You repeat, a little whiplashed. “As in..?”
“As in hang out.” He fiddles with the zipper of your bag like an uneasy child. If there’s something to note about him, it’s that he’s not very good at sitting still. He wants to touch everything, to speak to everyone, and be in a constant state of i-gotta-do-something. “I feel like hanging out.” 
“Er— Yeah, okay. We can hang out.”
You’re not entirely sure what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t to be seated on a bus with him while he shows you his Smurfs’ village. He tilts his phone to the side and explains that Papa Smurf has asked him to grow twenty potatoes in exchange for three smurfberries. It’s all very perplexing, but it makes you realise just how simple this man truly is. He plays children’s phone games in his spare time, speaks with the elderly, and probably talks to any wildlife he comes across. These new realisations make you adore him. Sure, he may have zero filter and feels no regret in teasing you, but he’s genuinely a good guy. 
It takes forty seven minutes for the bus to reach the bus-stop you two get off at. You’ve never been in this neighbourhood before, but you’re glad that you’re here now. It’s ran by flora and fauna (rabbits and ducks, mostly) and the air is noticeably easier to breathe in. Little cottage-style houses stretch down the length of the windy roads and the third one from the bus-stop is the place he calls home. Vines have crawled up the walls and have completely overtaken the light coloured brick, the roof is dark and mossy, and the white paint on the casement windows have peeled back over the years. 
The interior of his house is like any other; there are random family photos hung on the wall, there’s a fruit-bowl on the kitchen counter (although, it’s empty), and various ‘live, laugh, love’ trinkets are sat on the living room cabinets. However, there are a fuck ton of empty beer bottles stacked up in the kitchen and the living room. It makes you wonder, but it’s not your place to pry into sensitive shit like that. 
Jungkook’s bedroom is nothing like you’d expect. Yeah, the walls may be grey and there may be discarded clothes on the floor, but his bookshelves are filled with various koala plushies, different sizes of the Australian map, kangaroo fridge magnets, and small emu figurines. You’ve counted over fifteen eucalyptus candles, and although none have been opened, the room still smells piney, minty, and sweet. 
“Don’t mind the mess.” He says as he picks up a lone shirt and tosses it on the end of his bed. 
“What’s with the Australian shrine?” 
“They’re gifts from my mom. She sends them too often.” 
"Is this her?" You run your finger along an intricate photo-frame that’s sat on his bedside table. The woman in the photo has a messy head of dark hair and a safari hat fastened underneath her chin. She looks like an unkept zoo keeper, but so happy and full of life.
"Yeah." He says plainly. "She moved to Australia to breed koalas after she divorced my dad. Haven't seen her in a while."
That’s a short summary of his moms history. Before she left the country, she ran a native animal sanctuary and was always filling up the house with various animal trinkets and memorabilia. They’re still placed around the house, but have long since gathered dust. She didn’t take much with her; just a passport, her favourite tennis shoes, and a small backpack full of plain clothes. 
“Oh, wow.. How long has she been gone?”
“Almost a year.”
“Is that why you have the eucalyptus tattoo?” You query. “For your mom?”
“You’re a little Einstein, aren’t you?”
When you turn to face him and reply with a witty remark, he kisses you. But, not roughly or dominated by tongue like he usually would. The kiss is slow and sweet, like he’s trying to drink you in. And, his hands cup your jaw to keep you just where he wants you. There’s something about the way you look into his eyes on most days; it makes him want to be gentle and vulnerable with you. He’s never felt that feeling before; like he wants to fuck the soul out of you, but also play with your hair and hold your hand. It’s a complete head-fuck, especially for someone as out-of-touch as himself. 
“What was that for?” You ask, a little breathless, after he breaks the kiss.
“Dunno.” He fibs. “Just felt like it.” 
And, then he kisses you again while his hands grip your waist and your own run through his soft hair. You don’t feel weird kissing him, now that he’s seen every inch of your skin and has heard every moan variation you’re physically capable of producing. You feel comfortable and it’s a nice feeling. 
But, then the front door slams and it makes you jump in fright. Is this one of his family members? You think to yourself. How are you supposed to introduce yourself? As his friend? Fuck-buddy? Study-buddy? Oh, fuck. 
“Is that your dad?” You query with wide eyes. 
“No.” He lies and he doesn’t know why he does. “Yes, it’s my dad.. Fuck. Can we go somewhere else?”
It then becomes apparent that you don’t need to introduce yourself. Why bother? His dad reeks of alcohol and you could practically smell it before he even walked in the house. A man in his late forties has stumbled down the hallway and propped himself up against the doorframe. They look so similar, it’s uncanny; black, wavy hair, honey skin, generous height, and an athletic frame. 
“Oh.” His dad blinks a few times in his drunken state. He’s dressed in an old leather jacket and paint-stained jeans. “Who’s the bitch?”
Jungkook sighs deeply and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you knock before you come in? I’m busy.”
“This is my house!” His dad slurs in an awfully loud voice. “I’ll open any door I want!”
You don’t know what to do. You don’t feel so comfortable anymore. You’ve never had to experience a fight like this in your entire life, nor have you been in the same room as an aggressive drunk person. Maybe that’s why you’re so naive. 
Jungkook feels no fear in digging in his dad’s jeans for his car keys. He’s way too drunk to do any actual damage. If he were to swing at him, he’d just lose balance and tumble backward. But, knowing how to navigate an abusive dad is a skill that nobody should have to learn. That’s not what kids should have to learn.
With the bundle of house-keys in one hand, Jungkook uses the other to take your hand and escort you down the hallway, out the front door, and toward a busted truck parked on the driveway. Is he about to steal his dads truck? That’s not his truck, right? You don’t know what the fuck is going on, but you oblige without much hesitation when he tells you to get in the passenger seat. The interior is just as damaged as the exterior and cigarette butts have piled up in the cup holders. It makes you wonder if he smokes along with his dad, but you’ve never once tasted tobacco on his tongue, so you highly doubt it. 
“You ungrateful git!” Jungkook’s dad stumbles out of the front door and yells out as the truck swiftly reverses. The sheer volume and tone of his voice makes you jump in your skin, but Jungkook is completely unfazed. You wonder how often he’s had to hear it to become so accustomed. Again, this isn’t something a kid should have to learn to cope with. 
He stays silent for a lot of the drive; silently switching gears and tapping his thumb against the steering wheel. He’s wearing a deep frown and can’t stop nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s in deep thought. It makes you uneasy. You want to be in the loop, the hear him talk, but he doesn’t. At least, not for the first fifteen minutes. 
“I’m sorry.” He speaks once the truck stops at an intersection. His thumb is still fidgeting with the wheel, but not as reverently. “I didn’t think he’d be home so early.”
“Jungkook, it’s okay, really.” You lace your voice with everything that could ever be used to reassure a person. None of this is his fault. He didn’t purposely put you in harms way. He wouldn’t ever do that. 
Jungkook is quiet for the rest of the journey back to campus, and when he reaches the parking lot, he takes up two parking spots like madman. The parking warden is going to have a field day once she makes it to his truck in time to slap a hefty fine on the window shield. 
“He usually stays at the bar until midnight. Fuck, I’m sorry. It was dumb to bring you there.” 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed about your dad.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” 
“I can handle it, Jungkook.” You say with a hint of uncertainty hidden within your voice. Alright, maybe you can’t handle a lot, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to be there for him. “I just want to be your friend.” 
Something in him snaps at your offer and he instantly becomes defensive. Friends. To him, friends are people who get drunk together and text each-other sometimes. You’re not fit to be his friend. Weakness is not a trait he’s ever had to show anyone either, so it’s difficult to come to terms with unleashing it. What falls from his mouth next isn’t the truth, but he’s just so set on being the bigger person; whatever that means. 
“It’s none of your business, Y/N. You're just my toy..” His words hurt him more than they hurt you. He feels like a completely different person as he’s raining down on you; like his dad. “I fuck you like I love you, but I really don’t.”
His words cut like paper, but you know he’s enduring a lot more pain than he’s dishing out. He doesn’t mean it. He wouldn’t ever mean that. That’s not who he is. 
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me.” You dig in your pocket for a trinket before dangling the cutesy figure from your fingers. It’s a Hello Kitty charm hooked around a silver keychain. Pink, white, and yellow is the palette. The gesture is a lot more meaningful to him than you intend. It’s just a keychain, but it’s also something that he can carry around to remind him of you. You’re not his friend. His friends don’t do this. They don’t think about each-other like this or act selflessly for one-another. “I won this while I was at a carnival last year. I thought you might like it.” 
He looks at the figurine, but he doesn’t reach out to take it. He’s hesitant, but only because he thinks that he doesn’t deserve it. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you and can see it on his face, so you gently grab his wrist and place it in his hand. 
"If you want me." You begin with a firm tone. Good for you. "You can come and find me. I still want to be your friend."
He doesn't reply, and instead tightens his grip on the keyring while avoiding all intimate eye contact. You want to reach over and run your fingers through his hair and tell him that everything will turn out just fine, but you don’t. You want to take away all of his pain, but you can’t. It doesn’t work like that. Different situations call for different tactics. 
"Just.. give me back my textbook after you're done using it.” Is the last thing you say before hopping out of the truck and wandering deeper into campus. 
Jungkook sits in the truck with his eyes trained on the Hello Kitty keyring and his heart on his sleeve for the first time. 
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When he goes home that same night, he drinks until he throws up and allows himself to be consumed by the characteristics of his dad. It's not until he has nothing left in his stomach to throw up that he realises he doesn't want to be him. His dad has been the bane of his existence; always yelling, drinking, belittling, and being openly prejudiced toward strangers on the street.
Why have children if you won't love them? Why have children if you refuse to nurture and help them reach their potential? Why label yourself a father when you disown your child after each disagreement? The abuse, the power struggle, the hatred. Why call yourself a human at all?
Jungkook is a product of his childhood and for the longest time, had a fear of sudden, loud noises which stemmed from his dads constant yelling. And, although it took him many, many years to overcome his battle, he’s not any less of a worthy solider. 
His mom is a good woman regardless if she spends her days thousands of kilometres from her family. Every week without fail, she mails her son an envelope full of various Australian animal trinkets, photo cards, and images of her and her koalas. She constantly entertains the idea that he should come and live with her for a while. And, the way she describes the Australian heat and the blue oceans makes him consider doing just that. 
With the back of his head propped up against the bathroom cabinet and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, Jungkook dangles the Hello Kitty keychain in front his face and allows himself to smile at the thought of you. You've made him smile more in these past few weeks than he's ever genuinely smiled before. So much so that it feels like he steps into a completely different world whenever he's with you. Your smile can light up a room, your smartness astounds him, and although your dress sense isn't trendy in the slightest, he still likes how it looks on you.
You walk around like a mom with your cuffed jeans, slogan shirts and cardigans. You're so fucking lame, but he likes you so much. You're so fucking lame, but there's nobody else that he'd rather spend his time with. You make him feel seen, heard, that his issues aren’t irrelevant and it’s more than okay to talk about them. You’re his lifeline and he has the option of wrapping his arms around you instead of being still in the water and drowning. 
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Three days pass and although it pains him to keep away from you, he knows it’s in his best interest to do just that. He spends his time thinking, really thinking. Who does he want in his life right now? Why do you make him feel so good? Why does he feel a pain in his chest when you talk with other guys? Why does he only think of you when he touches himself? And, why does he think of you even when he’s not touching himself? And, then it hits him when he least expects it. Literally. He’s walking back to his house from the bus-stop when he realises that he likes you more than a friend. He wants you and he wants more than your body. He wants to hear every detail of your day, your laugh, to kiss you just because he can, to commit to you. To love you. He can’t wait to fall in-love with you. It excites him more than anything he’s ever felt before. It’s then that he does a full 180 and hops back on the bus to make the forty seven minute journey back toward campus. 
It’s 4:29PM. You’re in the library with a cloudy head and a cramped-up hand from writing so much nonsense for one of your assignments. You couldn’t be in a worse mood right now. Jungkook is ignoring you, so you can’t concentrate, and because you can’t concentrate, you can’t finish this assignment, and because you can’t finish this assignment, you can’t get a good grade for the unit.
Holy shit.
Your life was so, so simple two months ago. This entire situation has made you realise that you’re not a side character and you’ve always had the option of befriending anyone of your choice, even Jungkook. That’s generally how life goes. It’s brought on more bad than it has good, though, and that’s what hurts you so much. You never want to be the reason for somebody’s tears.
But, just as you think that your day couldn't possibly shift in mood, a stranger decides to pull up the seat next to you. Only, this person is no stranger to you. You could recognise that dark hair and honey skin from a mile away.
Jungkook lays the side of his face against your lap and closes his eyes. He doesn’t care how it may look to the conservative librarians or to other students. He just wants to lay here and feel your hands run through his hair and the pads of your fingers stroke his skin.
"Found you." He mutters, earning a small smile from your lips. But, he doesn’t say what he thought he had the courage to say. Instead, he just lays here and hopes that you feel what he does. 
"I didn't make it that difficult."
Thanks for reading! 
permanent taglist (for all of my works) — @zeharilisharaban @ayumimegami @philostuff @carolsummerlove @piaesthetic @viokook @bangtan-serendipity @kookie-monsteur @codeinebelle @omot7 @jeon-ggukkie @prdshobi @kookoo-kachoo @goldenlilyz @chiminies-noona @seolaryj @fancycollectormoon @she-is-dreaming
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gukyi · a year ago
if i told you | jjk
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summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.
{friends to lovers!au, college!au}
pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, angst, we’ve got it all folks word count: 22k warnings: slightly underage alcohol consumption, mention of words that could be spoken on an crime documentary series but nothing graphic, ravioli-stealing, idiots to lovers, as per usual a/n: finally! here is the long awaited jungkook fic that i have literally been slaving over since the beginning of january. was this fic supposed to be 10k? yes. did i somehow end up writing 22k anyway? of course! in any case, please enjoy my absolute baby who i love and cherish!
check out the post-script drabble here!
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Jeon Jungkook loses his job at the university call center on the seventeenth day of the fall semester of his sophomore year. 
You know this because on the seventeenth day of the fall semester of your sophomore year, he comes banging on the door of your apartment shared with three other girls at 2:07PM, seven minutes after he normally starts his job at the university call center. 
He’s lucky that you’re the only one who doesn’t have class in the 2PM hour. 
“Y/N!” He shouts through the thin wooden door, his voice probably echoing down the thin hallway of your apartment complex. 
You open it before the second knock—you only rush to the door to get him to shut the fuck up, and not because you’re excited to see him, you swear—to see him standing on the other side, XXL university hoodie draped over his figure, down to his mid-thigh, baggy hood pulled over his head like a sad college-aged Star Wars character. He looks exactly like a jaded sophomore year college student would. He is beautiful. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the call center right now?” You ask in lieu of a normal “hello” or even a “what the fuck are you doing here, it’s 2PM”. Jungkook does not wait for you to invite him inside your apartment, immediately kicks off his shoes by the entrance and tugs on your apartment slippers that are a size-and-a-half too small for his feet, and marches over to your shared fridge to fish through the tupperware containers with your name written on Post-it notes for a mid-afternoon snack. 
Jungkook waits until he’s got an entire piece of frozen supersized ravioli shoved into his mouth before he responds. “I was fired,” he says over a mouthful of pasta and cheese.
“What?” You ask, eyes widening as Jungkook shuffles through your kitchen drawers for a fork, which means that the first piece of ravioli that he ate he did so with his bare ass hands. Like a heathen. Like a ravioli-craving twenty-year-old heathen. 
“I was fired,” Jungkook repeats. He stares at the microwave resting on your kitchen counter for a good ten seconds before he continues to eat the cold, unheated pasta. Every time he’s in your apartment (which is frequently), he tells you how it’s a fire, water, and explosive hazard to have your microwave on the counter like that. As if there is any other place in your apartment for it to go. Maybe out on the tiny balcony you have that overlooks the busiest street on campus. 
“Care to offer an explanation as to why?” You ask, coming up next to him. Jungkook is nearly finished with your tupperware of ravioli, and normally you’d shout at him for it, but seeing as he was just fired from his only source of income as a money-starved college student, you’ll cut him some slack. Just a little. 
“You remember that old, angry alumnus that told me that asking for donations in order to benefit low-income-slash-first generation students was selfish and rude of me, and that I wouldn’t be in college if it weren’t for what his generation accomplished?” Jungkook asks. 
You remember that vividly. Jungkook spent an approximate two hours and thirty-seven minutes on FaceTime with you ranting about this one “old man bitch” who he had to speak to during his day at work, all while you did your economics problem set to the sweet, mellifluous sound of Jungkook’s shrill shrieks. 
“The one you lost your temper at and shouted at for being ungrateful and elitist?” You ask pointedly. You have a feeling you already know where this conversation is going. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. He finishes the ravioli (goddamnit, now you’re going to have to find something else to eat for dinner at 11PM tonight) and turns around to place it in the sink. For once, it is not piled high with dishes from up to a week ago, so Jungkook even squirts a bit of Dawn onto a sponge and washes the plastic container for you. “Well, as it turns out, telling an old racist elitist that he’s old, racist, and elitist does not go down well with my boss.”
“Why does that not surprise me,” you muse. Jungkook sighs, walking over to where you’re taking it easy on the couch. “Oh no,” you say, eyes widening as he grins, plotting something. “Do not, Jungkook. Jungkook, do not!”
He jumps, catapulting himself onto the couch and landing on top of you with a thud. You let out a groan as the weight of his body hits you, foreheads nearly knocking into each other. Jungkook is a good foot-and-a-half too long for this dinky leather couch that’s always sort of smelled, feet and ankles hanging off the opposing arm rest just so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of your shoulder like he always does. You hate when he does this. Hate when he jumps onto the couch while you’re casually reclining just so he can collapse on top of you. Hate the feeling of his body resting against yours, soft breathes against the skin of your neck. Hate how it always makes you want more, how it will never be enough. 
“Have you been working out?” You mumble against the fabric of his t-shirt. “You’re more muscle-y than usual.”
“I added weights to my routine,” Jungkook tells you mindlessly. If your roommates walked into your apartment right now and saw the both of you on the couch, you’d never hear the end of it. “Taehyung said it would make me more swole.”
“As if you need to be any more buff,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jungkook’s the most athletic person you’ve ever met in your entire life. He could probably pick up your dinky couch with you sitting on it without batting an eyelash. Even Superman would tremble at the sight of him. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters into your skin. “God, what the fuck am I gonna do now? I need money to pay for everything in my life and my one source of income is now totally invalid because an old guy got what he deserved.”
“Are there any work-study positions still available?” You ask, hand reaching up to stroke at his hair, smoothing it down. Jungkook’s preferred cuddling position is big spoon, but he still demands that he be coddled as though he were the little spoon. 
“No,” Jungkook says with a huff, “they’ve all been snagged by try-hard freshmen who need money like me.”
“I distinctly recall you being a try-hard freshman who also needed money,” you tell him. “That’s why you applied to work at the call center, isn’t it?”
Jungkook sits up, the weight of his figure crushing your legs as he rests on top of them. If you stayed like this forever, you’d probably lose feeling in your lower body, but you’d also get to stay with Jungkook forever, which is a trade-off you would genuinely consider. “Yeah, but the call center hires everybody. You just need to be like… decent at communication. And I’m pretty decent at communication.”
“You never text me back,” you tell him pointedly. 
“That’s because I prefer showing up unannounced at your apartment or other places you frequent,” Jungkook reminds you excitedly. He’ll never let you forget about the time you were wrapping up a small seminar with your history professor and Jungkook burst through the doors with a whole thing of carrots and hummus because you had texted him that you were hungry. You could not look your history professor in the eye for the rest of the semester. “I’d say that’s pretty decent communication.”
“Well, you’re going to have to figure out another way to market your decent communication skills to get another job,” you tell him. “Have you considered the boba place on Oak? You could get me employee discounts.”
Jungkook leans over just to pinch at your cheek, fingers gripping onto your face and pulling like a grandmother. “You just want me for my money.”
“You’re my best friend, Jeon Jungkook,” you tell him. “Of course I do.”
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This is what Jeon Jungkook’s obligatory university Facebook group introduction post read:
Hi, I’m Jungkook and I’m thinking of majoring in visual studies or computer science (really different lol I know)! I played soccer in high school but don’t think I’ll be continuing in college because I was pretty bad at it. I’m looking for a roommate and I’d really like to live in New East House, but anything works for me as long as it has a bed. Hit me up if you think we’d made a good match, but I like talking with everyone lol. 
I’m really into music and can play the guitar, drums, and piano. I like listening to all types of music (yes, even country which slaps kinda hard sometimes) but my favorites are The 1975, Frank Ocean, Troye Sivan, and Khalid. Will bop to Justin Bieber on occasion as well. 
I play Ultimate and am really interested in joining the club team here so hit me up and we can practice sometime because my skills are a little rusty. I also do a little skateboarding but I am definitely not a skater. 
Hit me up if you think we can be friends lol I’m excited to meet you all!
It was accompanied by several pictures, a couple of which are selfies at that anime girl angle, one of him with his friends at prom all doing that Frat Boy pose, and a couple of him with his family. To an outsider doing a very quick glance, it pretty much reads the same as a rather extensive dating profile. 
The truth of it all is, as you were scrolling through the hundreds of obligatory university Facebook group introduction posts in search of a freshman year roommate, you stumbled upon Jungkook’s intro post and you thought this: No. Way.
The moment you laid eyes on his first above-the-head angle selfie, you knew that it would be unlikely that you and Jeon Jungkook’s paths would ever cross. He played guitar and did Ultimate Frisbee, and you wanted to audition for your university’s symphony orchestra. He was beautiful but in that sort of college frat boy who can crush you at beer pong kind of way. Craziest of all, he was a computer science major, and you were walking in as an undecided humanities concentration. 
Impossible. There was no way the two of you would ever meet, and you accepted that right off that bat. At a school your size, you would go through these four years not knowing a majority of your class. Jeon Jungkook was just one of the casualties. 
On the very first day of orientation, Jeon Jungkook comes up to you on the sidewalk, wearing a white t-shirt, a backwards baseball cap, and shorts, and asks you if you’re here for orientation as well? He’s lost. 
Jeon Jungkook is the type of guy you imagine getting eaten up by any girl who meets him almost immediately. He’s charming and endearing the same way a baby deer is, but has no problem wearing clothes that remind you of how fit he is. He is, for lack of a better term, extremely good looking. 
“Yeah,” you had said on the sidewalk, squinting to look up at him since the sun was in your eyes. “I’m heading to the auditorium right now. Wanna walk with me?”
“Okay, sure,” Jungkook had replied, smiling with all of his teeth. Even in the sweaty summer heat, he looked even nicer in person. “Thanks, by the way. I’m Jungkook. What’s your name?”
You knew that already. How could you have forgotten? 
You had grinned up at him. The universe has always worked in mysterious ways. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”
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When Jungkook doesn’t know what to do, he stress eats. Most often, you are the single witness to this action, which has literally no effect on his body mass whatsoever since he immediately burns off every calorie (and then some) at his next gym session. 
That is precisely why you are sitting in the second-best dining hall on campus eating a pretty measly salad and french fries, while Jungkook returns from the serve-yourself cafeteria with his sixth plate of food. Next to you is your mutual friend Chaewon, a filthy rich international student from Korea who is probably the nicest person you’ve ever met. 
“I think I’ve called every cafe, bubble tea shop, clothing store, and paid internship within a five-mile radius of this place and nothing,” Jungkook says with a sigh, keeping Chaewon updated with his job-search antics. It’s been several days since he was fired, and while being keenly cognizant of your bank account isn’t necessarily a bad thing, when it means that Jungkook refuses to leave campus because he is in hyper-saving mode, it sort of rustles your jimmies. 
“Have you tried babysitting?” Chaewon supplies helpfully. 
You laugh aloud at the mere thought of Jungkook stuck in some middle-aged parent’s house with their toddler for hours on a night where he could be living it up on campus. Jeon Jungkook? A babysitter?
“Wow, what the heck is wrong with me being a babysitter?” Jungkook questions, offended. 
“First of all, you don’t even let me beat you in Mario Kart on your Switch and I am your best friend. If you ended up gaming with a four-year-old boy, your over-competitiveness would take over you and you’d crush the poor kid and his spirit,” you remind him pointedly. Not to mention the fact that the man cannot cook to save his life, and you can’t even entrust him with microwave dinners because of his irrational fear of modern oven technology. 
Jungkook pouts. He knows you’re right. 
“It’s not like you were going to look into babysitting, anyway,” you say with a shove, nudging his shoulder with your own. 
Jungkook sighs, and despite all of the shit you give him on a daily basis (part of the responsibility of being his best friend), you do genuinely feel bad for him. Even if his job at the call center wasn’t the most intellectually stimulating nor morally rewarding, he didn’t absolutely hate it and he made a pretty decent earning off of it. He unzips his backpack and fumbles for his laptop, opening it up to reveal a Google Chrome window with approximately thirty-seven tabs open of places to work on and around campus. Meanwhile, Chaewon’s phone buzzes on the table, and she heaves out a great, exasperated exhale before picking up and immediately launching off into incredibly speedy Korean. 
“If only the bubble tea place was hiring,” you lament, kissing goodbye all of the free bubble tea you had been dreaming about if Jungkook got hired. 
“I’m glad I don’t work at the bubble tea place,” Jungkook tells you with his eyebrows raised, “otherwise I’d have to see you every day!” 
“You already see me every day!” You should back, but it’s not like Jungkook doesn’t know that already. He’s the one always barging into your apartment or sitting down next to you in the library when you’re trying to study. 
“But maybe you should try drinking less bubble tea, otherwise you’re gonna blow up like a tapioca pearl like that one girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Jungkook warns, pinching your cheek as if to make your face round like a tapioca bubble. 
“I can think of nothing I’d want more than to be a tapioca pearl for the rest of my life,” you state simply. It would be much less stressful than to be a college student. 
“If you were a tapioca pearl, I’d eat you!” Jungkook says, and you, out of the security of both your head and your heart, choose not to think too much into it. 
As Jungkook teases you about your slight obsession with bubble tea, Chaewon finally puts the phone down after what very well was several minutes of angry Korean. She lets out this deep, long sigh, like all of the pent-up rage within her is exiting through her exhale. 
“You good, Chae?” You ask her, a little concerned. Even after knowing her since the beginning of your freshman year, you’ve never once seen her get mad, though she looks pretty close to it now. 
“Yeah,” she says, exasperated. “My mom is having this stupid company ball here and she really, really wants me to attend.” It is obvious that Chaewon does not, in fact, want to attend. You’ve seen Chaewon nearly every day for over a year, and you’ve never even seen her wear a pantsuit. You couldn’t imagine her joy at having to dress up in a ballgown. 
“But fancy free food,” you point out. Even if she does have to be trapped in a penthouse ballroom with her parents’ stuffy business friends, the catering company will probably be god-tier. 
Chaewon pretty much bangs her head on the dining hall table. 
“Wow, I didn’t know someone could hate catered food so much,” you say, a little alarmed. 
“It’s not that,” Chaewon says, rubbing her forehead. The pasta on the plate in front of her has remained untouched for nearly ten minutes now. You wonder if she’s even hungry anymore. “My mom wants me to bring a plus-one.”
Your eyes widen. An excuse to dress nice and eat good food? Hell yeah. 
“And it can’t be you, Y/N, it has to be a date,” Chaewon says. It’s pretty obvious she’s not interested in dating whatsoever, no matter the gender of the object of her affection. You pout. Damn. “My mom said, ‘he can be whoever you want!’ but that means that he has to be an attractive Korean guy who’s got a future job in finance.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jungkook says over a mouthful of broccoli. 
“You will?” Chaewon asks. Jungkook just single-handedly saved Chaewon from a night of unbearable business talk with a boy she doesn’t know and cannot relate to. 
You scoff. “You’re just a regular Korean dude, Jungkook,” you tell him. 
Jungkook pouts, bottom lip turned out. “You don’t think I’m attractive?”
You refuse to answer that question. You’re afraid of what you might say if you open your mouth. 
“Seriously, you’d do that for me?” Chaewon turns to Jungkook with platonic stars in her eyes. 
Jungkook shrugs. “Sure. I’ve got a suit. I’ll ask my friend Jimin for a crash course in finance before the thing. When is it?”
And just like that, you and Jungkook’s weekly Friday Mario Kart night gets a rain check. 
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 Jeon Jungkook is the sole best decision of your life. 
And it’s funny and twisted and wonderful, because he is the one thing you had failed to account for in your life. He stands there on the sidewalk in the blazing sun, black baseball cap nestled safely onto his dark brown hair, and in the split second it takes for him to open his mouth and say hello, everything changes. 
But no longer is the image you conjure in your mind when you think of him a picture of him on that very first day of orientation, lost and excited all at once. It is of him barging into your apartment and eating all of your leftover ravioli. It’s him laying on your dinky couch like it belongs to him, surfing through all of the Netflix shows available and eventually just settling on old Gilmore Girls episodes like he always does. It’s him standing in your closet to judge your latest clothing purchases and take back any items that you’ve stolen from him over the years. 
It’s imagining him not as a guest but as a permanent fixture in your home, in the place that makes you feel safest. Because that’s who Jungkook is, now. He is that place. He stands in your apartment rattling off a list of why microwaves are a severely underestimated killer, and it takes every inch of your being not to ask him to stay. To spend night after night cuddling on the couch, or make a home-cooked meal together on a Sunday evening, or get lost underneath the sheets on your bed.
Jungkook stands in your apartment like he belongs there. And only in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine that coming true.
Such is the case of that Friday night, when he’s supposed to accompany Chaewon to her terrible, awful, brain-melting parents’ business gala. You haven’t seen him all day, too busy with your club meetings to make time for him after your classes are finished for the week. College is never-ending in that horrible, unstoppable way. 
It’s nearing two in the morning when you hear the knock on your door. Two of your roommates are at a rush event for their sorority, and the other sleeps through your smoke alarm on a regular basis, so you are tasked with the job of opening the door. 
On the other side is Jungkook, as he frequently is. 
Your heart practically freezes in place, like his eyes have shot right through it. Instead of his usual baggy outfit and a bucket hat, he’s standing outside of your apartment in a crisp navy suit (complete with a pocket square), rings lining his fingers and hair tousled in that effortlessly-styled kind of way. He looks like a goddamn celebrity, like a young, successful CEO. Like the love of your whole fucking life. 
Coughing to distract from the fact that you’re practically drooling, you say, “Wow, you clean up nicely.”
Jungkook looks down at himself, almost as if he had forgotten he’s wearing a full suit entirely. “The pocket square is Jimin’s,” he explains, “but yeah. I didn’t want to let Chaewon down by not dressing up to code.”
He’s got remnants of makeup left on his face, having faded and smudged throughout the night. There’s a bit of black underneath his eyes from the liner, a smoldering effect that makes the dark brown of his irises even deeper. “You look tired,” you comment. “Why are you here, why don’t you go home, Jungkook? Get some sleep.”
Jungkook shrugs, looking over your shoulder to see if his arrival has woken up any of your roommates. “Your place was closer,” he says like it’s nothing. 
Like it doesn’t make your breath catch in your throat, stop in its tracks. He spends an evening dressed up in a stuffy suit and tie surrounded by old businessmen and their preppy daughters with whom he has nothing in common, and when it’s nearly two in the morning and he can finally relax, he drives to your place instead of his own. Like it means nothing. As if it means anything at all. 
Jungkook runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, and even knotted and messy it still looks flawless. “If I’m bothering you, just let me know. I know it’s late.”
It’s so hard to say no to him. 
“Just come inside already before you wake up the neighbors,” you tell him, sighing to pretend like it’s a minor inconvenience. And even running on barely any sleep with makeup smudged underneath his eyes, Jungkook grins as you let him inside your apartment, caving in, just like you always do. 
The first thing he does when he’s inside is take off his fancy loafers and peel off his suit jacket, resting it against the back of the couch. You fumble around in the kitchen for the kettle, instinctively starting to make two cups of tea. Routine. 
Looking up, you watch as Jungkook loosens his tie and takes it off, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. By the counter, you turn your back to him so he doesn’t see you mentally combust. It’s impossible that he doesn’t already know what he does to you. 
The kettle finishes boiling the moment Jungkook settles onto your couch. He keeps the television off so he doesn’t wake your roommates, and scrolls on his phone with his knees tucked underneath his chin. Thirty seconds later, you’re joining him, handing him the cup of tea before sitting down next to him, severely underdressed in comparison. 
“Did you at least have fun tonight?” You ask. 
“The food totally slapped,” Jungkook tells you. “Chaewon’s parents really pulled out all the stops.”
“So I’ve heard,” you muse. 
“We spent most of the time lounging by the catering table and distracting each other by making up stories about all of the rich people there.” Jungkook laughs. 
“Please tell me you didn’t embarrass yourself, though,” you say. Perhaps Jungkook could withstand a few blows to his ego, but Chaewon’s future pretty much depends on her impressing her parents and their comrades. 
“No!” Jungkook tells you defensively. “Jimin told me everything I needed to know, but all of Chaewon’s friends and their filthy rich CEO parents thought I was so handsome that I didn’t even need to speak.”
You roll your eyes. Of course Jungkook wouldn’t give up the chance to remind you of his hellishly good looks. 
“You just stood there, looking pretty?” You ask. Not as if he doesn’t do that already. 
“You think I’m pretty?” Jungkook teases, a greasy smile sent your way, like he doesn’t know the answer anyway. 
You huff. “Dressed up like this? Anyone would.”
“Chaewon said I was like her fake trophy husband,” Jungkook jokes. “She did all of the schmoozing. It’s not like I could have contributed anything anyway. Unless everyone wants to hear about C++.”
“Ooh, I love it when you talk all tech to me,” you tease, nudging him with your arm. “So sexy, keep talking.”
He laughs. “If we keep talking about Python I might get a little too excited.” He wiggles his eyebrows just for good measure and you giggle, holding onto this moment for dear life as you let it etch itself into your brain permanently. Times like these, you know you can’t forget, saving them for a rainy day thirty years down the line when you’re in love with someone that’s not Jungkook. When you look out the window and think about what might have been, if only things back in college had been a little bit different. 
Jungkook’s phone buzzes on the table. He’s got two notifications, one from Instagram of Chaewon tagging him in a post, and another from Venmo. 
“Fuckin’ damnit,” Jungkook swears, letting his phone drop on the couch cushion. 
“What?” You ask, turning to look at him. 
“Chaewon just Venmo’ed me a hundred dollars,” Jungkook says with a sigh. And it’s not one of those times when you see your bank account balance go up and get happy because yay, money!, it’s when your friend pays you anything over what they actually owe you out of the goodness of your heart, and you refuse to accept it. 
“She did?” You ask, eyes widening. A hundred dollars? That’s more than Jungkook would make in three shifts at the call center. 
“‘Thanks for bailing me out tonight. You definitely deserve more than 100 but then you’d be mad at me. But please don’t be mad at me!’” Jungkook reads off his phone. “I just stood there looking like eye candy. I didn’t do a thing to help her, what the heck?”
You pull out your own phone to check Chaewon’s latest post. 
It’s a picture of them together in the skyscraper penthouse the gala was held in, Jungkook looking dapper in his suit with a glass of champagne in his hand, and Chaewon in a dress worth more than a semester’s tuition throwing up a peace sign like the trendy Asian she is. They look like a K-drama couple. Like two celebrities basking in their fame and wealth. 
Shoutout to my one and only Jeon Jungkook for being my fake date tonight! Thanks to your good looks and charming personality for impressing all of my parents’ rich friends and their daughters. Love you 3000 💕
“Wow, whoever took this picture of the both of you knows their shit,” you say, impressed. You had always thought it impossible for Jungkook to look better in pictures than in real life, but this photo is coming rather close. If you were any more shameless, you’d ask Chaewon if she has any more photos of him. Just him, preferably. 
It’s not as if she doesn’t know about your gargantuan crush on him anyway. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever looked that good in a photo in my life,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Impossible. He yawns, placing his empty mug on the little end table next to the couch. 
“You should set it as your profile picture,” you suggest, leaning your head on him and pretending like this is normal. He yawns again, stretching out as he rests his body against yours. “Hey, we should go to sleep. Unless you want to go home?”
Jungkook groans, snuggling in closer. “No, your bed is big enough for the two of us.”
And who are you to resist?
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You wake up to the sound of a phone buzzing furiously on your bedside table. You crack open one eye just a sliver to see who the culprit is and immediately eradicate it, when the sun filtering through your Venetian blinds hits your cornea. You groan, shutting your eyes once more as you smack your hand around to get it to shut off. 
The movement, however, causes the bedsheets to shift beside you, and when you turn, you find Jungkook nestled up tightly beneath your duvet, an arm stretched over your side as he hums in his sleep. 
You’re best friends. 
This is normal. 
(The feeling of your heart beating out of its chest has become rather normal, as well.)
He’s wearing a raggedy old t-shirt of yours that has always been too big on you but fits him just perfectly and a pair of joggers that he keeps at your place “just in case”. Just in case he stays the night. Just in case you ever need them. Selfishly, you will yourself to fall back asleep, shutting your eyes tightly and pretending that maybe, if you never wake up, this moment will freeze in time, locking the two of you together for eternity. 
He mumbles to himself in his sleep, a murmur of nothing as he shifts over slightly, hand dragging up your side. 
Next to you, the phone begins to buzz erratically again, and wide-awake, you look over to realize that it’s Jungkook’s, and that it’s Chaewon on the other end. 
This is at least the second time she’s called, which means that, despite how tempting it is, you probably shouldn’t silence his phone and go back to lying in bed with Jungkook and pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. 
Sighing, you pick up. 
“Jungkook!” Chaewon shouts on the other side. For a brief moment you wonder why on earth she’s so energetic so early, but it’s less that and more the fact that you are overwhelmingly lethargic rather late in the day. “All of my friends said you looked really good in those photos I posted of us. Do you think you’re free next Wednesday night? Seunghee wants you to accompany her to a double date her parents are forcing her to go on!”
“Oh, Y/N! How’s it going?”
“I just woke up,” you mumble quietly as Jungkook stirs beside you. 
“Of course you did,” Chaewon says, and you can see her rolling her eyes on the other side of the line. “Wait, why do you have Jungkook’s phone if you just woke up? Oh my God, don’t tell me—”
“Shh!” You hiss into the phone. Jungkook is slowly beginning to wake up, and you can only pray that he isn’t listening in to the conversation between you and Chaewon. “No, we did not. He got back after your thing and we promptly passed out in my bed, fully clothed,” you whisper loudly. 
“Jungkook went to your place last night? He was so tired, I thought he was going straight back to his. We even got dropped off outside my apartment.”
What? Chaewon and Jungkook live within a three-minute walk of each other. Your apartment is ten minutes away from both of them. 
“You did?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing. 
“Who’s that?” 
You turn around to see Jungkook lying on his back, head resting on a nearly-deflated pillow of yours as he looks up at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair is mussed, some parts styled and stiff with hair gel, and some parts tangled and unkempt. He looks like he’s been lying in that position for a while, hand resting behind his head as he gazes up at you. 
“It’s Chaewon,” you tell him softly as she laughs on the other end. “She just called your phone. Are you free next Wednesday?”
“Hmm?” Jungkook, still half-asleep. “When?”
“Next Wednesday,” you repeat, a hand on the phone like it’s going to do anything to stop Chaewon from listening to you two. “Chaewon says she has a friend who wants you to accompany her to a double date she’s been set up to go on by her parents.”
“Mmmrph,” Jungkook mumbles. It’s clear he hasn’t even thought about his plans for the rest of the day, let alone next Wednesday. 
“He’s not available right now,” you say into the phone. Chaewon snorts. 
“Fine,” Chaewon says with a sigh. “Can you pass the message on when you guys are done pretending that you aren’t fucking behind my back?”
You suck in a breath. “Chaewon!” You hiss. “We are not—” you quickly turn back to Jungkook, who, by the looks of his hooded eyes and bewildered expression, isn’t listening in, “—fucking!” You whisper. “You know we’re not!”
Chaewon laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Call me later, Y/N, we should grab ice cream or something.” She hangs up. 
“Who was that?” Jungkook asks sleepily, eyes still half-lidded as he sits up in your bed, soft skin, brown hair, pouted lips amongst a sea of white, bundled up in your thick duvet as if sitting on a cloud. 
“Chaewon,” you tell him. 
“Oh, why was she calling?”
“She wanted to ask if you were free next Wednesday.”
“To do what?”
Maybe you were worried about Jungkook listening in to Chaewon grill you about your relationship (or serious lack thereof) for nothing. 
“She has a friend who wants you to go on a parent-mandated double date, trophy boyfriend style,” you explain. Jungkook groans. 
“Pretending to know business is mentally, physically, and morally draining. It feels like I’m selling my soul to capitalism,” he says with a sigh, collapsing back against the mattress. “I just wanna stay here forever. It’s so cozy.”
“Come on, Kook,” you say, tugging the duvet off of him to reveal the rest of his body. He curls into himself at the exposure, refusing to budge. “You’ve encroached on my apartment long enough.”
“Y/N,” Jungkook whines, drawing out your name for good measure. “Noooooooo.” He reaches out to cling onto your wrist, which means that if you want him out of your bed, you’ll have to drag him out.
“Jungkook, you’re swole, you know I can’t tug you out of my bed,” you say with a pout. He knows every trick in the book to use against you, and worst of all, he knows you’re weak to all of them. 
“Good,” Jungkook says with a loopy smile, pulling you back onto the bed like it’s nothing. You yelp as you come crashing on top of him, your body bumping into his as he wraps his arms around you and flops back onto your bed. You laugh and shout at the feeling as Jungkook cuddles up in the warmth of the sheets, pulling you in tightly to his body. “It’s so warm here, let’s stay like this forever.”
“What about food?”
“You keep a stash of Clif bars under your bed, we’ll eat those,” Jungkook suggests. 
You attempt to wriggle out of his grip, hoping to escape before he holds you long enough to get addicted, hooked on the feeling of his arms around you, his body against yours. But Jungkook is nothing if not persistent and clingy, and he wraps his arms tightly around your torso like a koala, warm and soft. “Come on, Jungkook. It’s nearly noon. Let’s be productive today.”
“Let’s not sit in bed all day.”
“Grosser. Let’s just stay in your bed all day and pretend that we don’t have any real responsibilities.”
“Given that we’re in college, that may be slightly difficult.”
“Fuck that, your GPA doesn’t matter anyway. Unless you have plans on going to grad school?” He asks with an eyebrow raise, turning to look at you. 
“No way, I’m not paying for another four years of this shit,” you immediately declare. Let the capitalist system of higher education extort another two to four years worth of tuition out of you for the same degree? Absolutely not. 
“Then why move?” Jungkook says with a grin. 
“Because,” you say, stumbling for a real answer. 
“Not good enough.” He grins cheekily. “I vote to stay in bed.”
“I vote to do my readings, your CS homework, and get back to Chaewon about Wednesday.”
“God,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “What’s Wednesday?”
“Oh my God, you need to call Chaewon. Right now. Before you ask me what you have on Wednesday one more time after losing all of your brain cells lounging around in my personal bed and refusing to leave,” you say, eyes wide as you worm your way out of his grip, dusting yourself off and heading to your closet. 
“Noooooooo,” Jungkook says, reaching out a desperate hand. “Y/N, come back.”
“Call Chaewon. Call her!” You order, fishing around in your closet for some fresh clothes. You’ve been wearing the same one since Thursday night. You are disgusting. 
Jungkook groans but obeys, picking up his phone and pressing her contact. “Hey Chae, it’s Jungkook. Listen, I’m literally going to Venmo you back what you paid me because you? Literally didn’t need to pay me at all? And I’m actually mad at you for it? Wait, what do you mean am I up to getting paid on Wednesday—”
The phone call presents the perfect opportunity for you to dash out of your bedroom and into the bathroom, where you splash yourself with cold tap water like a model in a face wash commercial (who already has perfect skin, so why does she need this new face wash, seriously?) to clear your head. It’s been a weird twelve hours. Even weirder knowing that across the hall, Jungkook is sitting in your room, on your bed, in your clothes, under your bed sheets. Knowing that maybe, in another universe, on another timeline, you would be in the exact same positions, only everything would be different. 
You wash your face, hoping to wake yourself up. Convince your mind that the past twelve hours have been nothing but a dream, and that when you walk back into your room, Jungkook will have vanished. Or he would have never been there in the first place. 
You leave the bathroom and return to your bedroom to see Jungkook tugging on his suit jacket, wearing the same clothes he had on when he knocked on your door at 2AM last night. He’s still on the phone, wrapping up the conversation with Chaewon. 
“Yeah, yeah, tell her that I’m down. She can just text me, give her my number. I’m happy to do this for you and your friends, Chae. Plus, she’s gonna pay me and I feel less bad about it because it’s a service and she’s not a close friend like you are. Yeah, it’s all good,” he looks up to see you standing at the door, leaning against the frame. “Yeah, Y/N just got back so I’m gonna go. Maybe we can grab dinner or something tonight? Cool. Bye.”
“Dinner without me?” You ask with a pout. 
“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. “You’re always invited.”
“Have you figured out what’s going on on Wednesday?” You tease him as you walk him to the door. 
“Chaewon has a friend, Soojin, who wants me to accompany her on a parent-mandated double date with a business partner’s daughter,” Jungkook explains. “Apparently all of Chaewon’s friends realized I make a pretty good fake trophy boyfriend.”
You rub his shoulder. He’d make a great real boyfriend too. Not that you think about that all of the time, or anything. “Gonna put that on your resume, big guy?”
“Of course.” Jungkook smiles. “Dinner tonight? We can go to the ramen place you really like.”
“Sure thing, is Chaewon coming?”
“If she wants to. Otherwise, it’ll just be us.”
“Sounds good,” you tell him. “See you then.”
“Hopefully before,” Jungkook says. “Thanks for letting me crash here last night, by the way.”
“Anytime,” you say. Maybe one day, it’ll be true. 
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Next Wednesday, there’s a knock on your door at midnight. 
Who else could it be?
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It was supposed to be a one-time thing. And then it was supposed to be just a two-time thing. And before you knew it, Jungkook’s number and his services were circling through the ring of wealthy international students, jumping from phone to phone as people crammed to get him to accompany them on their next double date, next business gala, next ballroom dance. 
You had always had a feeling that his charming, charismatic personality would eventually draw everybody towards him, so electric and magnetic that you couldn’t help but want to know him, make friends with him, be close to him. From the moment you saw his Facebook introduction post, you knew it was only a matter of time before everyone on campus knew his name.
[October 17th, 4:12PM] You: do u want to get dinner tonight
Jungkook: would love to but have to go to kim family business dinner with dahyun sorry :(
You: ok next time then!
[October 23rd, 1:03PM]
You: yo what r u doing You: i have so many readings to do rip You: do u wanna come to greene w me and study
Jungkook: heejin is taking me shopping for a fancy suit for her family’s event tomorrow i can’t :/ Jungkook: but i am going to get macaroons for u at the mall so we can see each other later!
You: yummm sure thing!
[October 30th, 9:58AM]
You: hey ik you’re asleep rn but we are still on for tomorrow right? 🎃 You: can’t let our one (1) year long halloween tradition of buying last-minute candy and watching the nightmare before christmas together die
[October 30th, 11:13PM]
Jungkook: omg i just saw this now im so sorry Jungkook: uh yeonjoo wants me to go to her sister’s halloween party tm so idk if i can make it this year
[October 31st, 2:02AM]
You: ok You: thanks for telling me
It’s no fun watching The Nightmare Before Christmas by yourself, you realize this Halloween. All of your roommates are out frequenting one of the hundreds of parties being thrown on campus tonight, and although you’d normally be up for getting drunk and dropping it low, you just aren’t in the Halloween spirit this year. Wonder why. 
Armed with the knowledge that your roommates probably won’t be back until three or four in the morning, you shut your laptop and decide to go to bed early. Early being midnight, but it’s early for you and that’s all that really matters. 
You don’t know why you’re being such a stick in the mud this Halloween. It’s always been one of your favorite holidays, never one to pass up free candy nor the option to dress up, but this one has been particularly lame. You don’t have a costume, your local drugstore is out of mini Skittles packets, and you don’t have someone to spend it with. 
Realistically, you have no reason to be sad that Jungkook isn’t available tonight. It’s not as if spending Halloween together is some ancient tradition from birth that binds the two of you together. You did it for the first time as freshmen, and you were foolishly hoping to do the same thing as sophomores. It’s not a tradition if it only happened once. 
You look in the bathroom mirror, stained with nail polish and dry shampoo and old skincare, and you sigh. Jungkook has every right to prioritize his current and only source of income over a night spent lounging on the couch doing nothing. It’s not as if you haven’t seen your best friend in over a month and this was the only night you both had free. Jungkook drops by after every single event he goes on. Every single one. He stands outside your door dressed in a fancy suit, or a silk button down, leather shoes and expensive jewelry bought for him by the girls he goes out with.
No matter the time, he knocks on your door and says hello, steals a cup of tea and a bit of your heart along with it, before bouncing out of your living room and off to his own apartment. He doesn’t stay the night anymore, doesn’t worm his way underneath your duvet and refuse to move until morning comes. It’s hard to tell if you’re grateful about it or not. 
Sluggishly, you peel off your clothes and wash your face, changing into some old sweatpants from the tenth grade and a t-shirt with an embarrassingly large hole in the armpit. This Halloween, you are dressing up as a lonely college student who is going to bed early on Halloween night because she has nothing better to do!
There’s a knock on your door. 
Your first instinct is to freeze up. When there’s another knock, your second instinct is to grab the closest object to you (which happens to be your water bottle) for self-defense. 
And then, you hear,
“You’re not watching The Nightmare before Christmas without me, are you?”
To spare yourself the shame, you won’t say that you practically leapt out of bed the moment you heard his voice. You calmly removed the covers, and casually walked to the front door. That is what you did. 
When you open it, Jungkook is standing behind it, grinning, wearing the greasiest police officer outfit you’ve ever seen in your entire life. This flew at a marketing company’s heir’s Halloween party? He’s even got what looks to be a fully-loaded water gun in his holster. 
“Don’t tell me this is what you wore to some fancy-shmancy Halloween party,” you say disapprovingly, eyebrows raised as you look him up and down and pretend that you aren’t just ogling his figure. 
“It was fine, Yeonjoo’s sister just graduated college. If anything, she was more okay with it than Yeonjoo was,” Jungkook says with a shrug. You don’t even need to let him in at this point, just watch as he tugs off his shoes and steps inside your apartment like it belongs to him. 
“What was Yeonjoo dressed as?”
“Princess Leia. We made for a very mismatched pair,” Jungkook says, chuckling to himself. “Ooh, did you guys get new tea?”
“You can have some if you want,” you tell him, shutting the door as he eagerly pulls out a box of teabags, turning on the electric kettle on the counter. “I think it’s Wild Berry Hibiscus.”
“Sounds good already,” Jungkook says, and he lets out a sigh that sounds so exhausted, so tired and aching, as he leans back against the countertop, head resting on the cupboards above it. 
“You could have gone home, you know,” you tell him. Even from the couch you can see the droop in his shoulders, the bags under his eyes. He’s been going out several times every week for the past month, and he still has a truckload of CS assignments on top. He spends precious hours schmoozing with wealthy businessmen and women, shaking people’s hands and posing for pictures in the fanciest clothes he owns and then some. The selfish part of you wants him to stay. The part that loves him knows it would be better if he went home. “You still can.”
“No,” Jungkook insists, shaking his head. “We have a tradition to uphold, don’t we?”
Even though The Nightmare Before Christmas is seventy-six minutes long, the night ends long before that. You haven’t even reached “This Is Halloween” before you feel a head hit your shoulder, and crane your neck to find Jungkook having fallen fast asleep beside you, half-full cup of Wild Berry Hibiscus next to the laptop in front of you. He’s still wearing his stupid police officer costume, the navy blue uniform tight against his body. His lips are parted ever so softly, eyelashes fluttering as little non-sounds exit his mouth, hints, whispers of snores. 
He hasn’t slept over since the first time. You’re not sure if you want the trend to continue, or if you just want to be a little bit selfish tonight, greedy, taking and taking and taking. He’s so beautiful like this, so innocent and gentle and soft. It would be such a shame if you had to wake him. 
And so, gingerly, you rest your head against his own, breathe in the quiet little sounds that leave his parted lips, memorize the feeling. It’s not the first time Jungkook’s accidentally fallen asleep on you, but there is something about this moment, sitting on your couch a few minutes past midnight, as the rest of the world celebrates around you, that is so intimate. Like here, in your apartment, you and Jungkook have your own little bubble, tucked away in a corner of the universe far from the noise of the rest of the world. And it’s here that you wish you could stay forever, for once never wanting the feeling to end. Wanting time to freeze in its very steps, the clocks stop and the orbit halts, and it is just you and Jungkook, forever. Like characters in a movie, on pause for eternity.
The moment ends when Jungkook shifts beside you before eventually coming to, slowly opening his eyes as he turns to look at you. You smile at him, dazed and tired, as he sits up properly, staring down at your half-opened laptop and the half-full cup of tea next to it. 
“Thought you’d end up sleeping here again tonight,” you joke, even though it isn’t really a joke. Maybe, somewhere deep down inside you, in the crevices between your bones and the dark corner of your heart, you had hoped that he would stay. 
“Oh, did I fall asleep?” Jungkook asks, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. It’s nearly two-thirty in the morning. 
“Just for a bit. I didn’t want to wake you, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to head back to your apartment or anything,” you tell him. 
Jungkook nearly jumps up off the couch at that, like he’s got springs in his shoes. Suddenly he’s wide awake, brown eyes blown open as he scrambles to gather his belongings, taking the cup of tea and quickly dumping it out in your sink. 
“Hey, don’t you want that?” You ask. 
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll come by some other time and have some, it was really good, I just fell asleep while drinking it,” Jungkook sputters, words moving a mile a minute as he tugs on his heavy black officer boots, scuffed at the tips from wear and tear. It’s as if he’s desperate to leave. Like your apartment has somehow offended him. Or worse, you. 
“If you want to stay, Jungkook, you can,” you tell him, standing up to run to the door before he pulls the damn thing off his hinges with how fast he’s moving. “I don’t mind. My bed is big enough for the both of us.”
“No, I should—I should get going. My… plants need watering. Right now. I totally forgot.”
It’s not a completely bullshit excuse. Jungkook has a fair few pothos amongst his other worldly apartment belongings, hanging from his ceiling or potted in old mugs and janky shoes. But it’s still a pretty bullshit excuse. It’s dark. Jungkook waters his plants every Sunday, and it’s Friday. It’s obvious he wants to get the hell out of your apartment for whatever reason. 
All you can do is hope and pray that it isn’t you who’s driving him away. 
“Oh—okay,” you tell him, opening the door as he furiously laces up his other boot. 
“Thanks for doing this. Next Halloween will be more fun, I swear. I won’t fall asleep on you. Or anything.”
“Okay, see you soon, then?” You ask, searching for a clue, a hint, anything that will tell you that it’s not you, that he hasn’t found you out yet. That you can still be friends, be best friends, because even if you want to kiss him, hold his hand, roll around in bed with him, loving him from afar is good enough. 
“Yes, yes, definitely. Dinner? Uh… sometime this week? I’ll text you. I have to go. Plants. See you!”
He dashes down the hallway. 
And you end your Halloween the same way you started it. Alone. 
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Jungkook ran out of your apartment the other day like it was infested with cockroaches. Or the Black Plague. Or your microwave had just beeped. It was as if simply being inside it was going to scar him for life. 
Maybe your apartment is cursed. Jungkook does believe in ghosts. That’s another reason as to why he fears the microwave. Tiny ghosts could be living inside the microwave chamber and you’d never know. But Jungkook knows better. He knows that they’re there. 
“He just… ran out?” Chaewon asks, clearly bewildered. The two of you have been working on the first floor of the library all day, obviously doing everything in your power to not actually complete any of your assignments. 
“Yeah, something about his plants.” You sigh. 
Chaewon narrows her eyes, the same way she does when she’s plotting something. “Interesting.”
“What?” You ask, nudging her to see if you can worm a less mysterious response out of her. 
“Nothing,” Chaewon says with a nonchalant shrug. She clearly has something to say. 
“What?” You repeat forcefully. Chaewon doesn’t get to go all cryptic on you just because Jungkook ran out of your apartment like it had set fire. 
“I know I’ve only known you guys for, like, a year and a bit now, but you two have the strangest relationship I’ve ever seen,” Chaewon comments like it’s nobody’s business when it is, in fact, specifically two people’s business. 
You scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just…” She pauses, thinking. In the silence, she begins to pack up her belongings, shoving her laptop into her bag and gathering up the small pile of candy wrappers slowly amassing in front of her. “I’ve never seen two best friends have a relationship quite like yours.”
“What are you doing for dinner? I’m eating with Yoonji, but you’re welcome to join if you want,” Chaewon offers. Even though you have no idea who Yoonji is, Chaewon would never exclude you from eating with them.
“I’m getting Korean food with Jungkook, but thanks for the offer,” you say, only to be greeted with Chaewon rolling her eyes. He said he’d meet us outside?”
Sure enough, when you head out of the glass doors at the front of the library, Jungkook is waiting dutifully on a bench close by, headphones in as he nods his head and taps his feet to the beat of the music, lost in his own world. He doesn’t even realize that you’ve left the library until you’re two feet in front of him, when he recognizes your beat-up white sneakers and looks up at you in glee, eyes crinkled into crescents. 
“Ready to go?” You ask happily. Your stomach has been rumbling ever since Jungkook suggested you go out to eat this morning. 
“Hell yeah I am,” Jungkook says, putting his earbuds away as he stands up. “You coming, Chae?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m eating with a friend.” There’s nudge against your shoulder, and when you turn to face her, she winks. “But you two enjoy yourselves! Don’t have too much fun without me!”
Before you can publicly berate her for being so goddamn obvious, she’s rotating 180 degrees on her heel and speed-walking in the opposite direction, zooming off so you don’t get the chance. 
“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages,” you comment mindlessly. Twenty-four hours away from Jungkook feels like a lifetime and a half. Forty-eight is a light year. 
“I’ve been busy,” Jungkook says vaguely, shrugging his shoulders. 
“Doing what, going out to fancy restaurants and galas?” You half-tease. It’s sad but true—Jungkook spends his nights living a life you could only dream of. And all of these rituals you share, from studying in the library until three in the morning to crashing at his place and taking naps on separate couches, get put on the backburner. 
“Hey, it’s hard work pretending to be rich,” Jungkook pouts. “Besides, the craziest thing about going to those things is that rich Korean people don’t serve Korean food at their fancy gatherings. They serve shit like caviar.”
“Is that why you’re so desperate to get Korean?” You ask pointedly. 
“Yes,” Jungkook emphasizes. “Man, I just want some tteokbokki.”
“Then we’ll go and eat all of the tteokbokki you can dream of,” you promise. You round the street corner and on the edge of the main road and an alleyway sits a tiny Korean restaurant the size of a bedroom, no more than six cramped tables inside. It’s run by a family who passes it down through each generation, dependent on the starving college students nearby to keep it alive. 
It’s Jungkook’s favorite place. The owner gives him a discount every time he sees him. 
(It’s impossible not to fall in love with Jungkook. Impossible to not be drawn to his presence, his personality. Like moths to a flame, you can’t help but come closer.)
“Ah, Jungkook!” The old man behind the counter greets as the bell above the entrance rings. “Sit! Sit!” He points to your favorite table, a round one in the far left corner that’s right next to the biggest window. “Usual?”
“Tteokbokki, too, please!” Jungkook shouts. The man gives you both a thumbs up and heads back into the kitchen. 
“It’s been a while since we came here,” Jungkook notices. You both usually eat lunch on campus and Jungkook has been largely unavailable for dinner. 
“Almost sounds like you missed it,” you poke fun. 
“God, I missed it so much,” Jungkook exclaims, tilting his head back in exasperation. “I didn’t realize that it would be so much work to get dressed up in a suit and look hot.”
“Don’t make it sound like such a drag.” You frown. Jungkook needs to put in literally zero effort to look hot. Sitting across from him in this tiny Korean restaurant as he wears nothing but a massive hoodie and black joggers, he looks hot. When he wakes up in your bed in a raggedy t-shirt, he looks hot. When you catch him at three in the morning in the library after eighteen straight hours of studying, he looks hot. 
Jungkook sits there and radiates light. Radiates warmth and joy and beauty. Laughter and hope. He’s the college version of a Disney prince. Perfectly imperfect and completely out of your reach. 
“I wish I could take you with me, you might enjoy it,” Jungkook sighs. “Plus, I have literally never seen you wear something fancier than business casual. Imagine you in a ballgown!”
“In your dreams, Jeon,” you rebuke. “Free catered food sounds nice but having to mingle with the 1% does not.”
“Touché,” Jungkook concedes. “I don’t know how Chaewon does it.”
“She’s a goddess.”
Jungkook pours you a cup of water from the pitcher that the old man dropped off, and then pours one for himself. “Chaewon said that I did well, though.”
Not surprising. Jungkook excels at everything he does. 
“Of course you did, you sexy beast,” you chide. 
“She said I’d make a good boyfriend.”
You choke on your water as the man’s son brings out your food, and you desperately attempt to avoid eye contact as you sputter and cough into a napkin, gaze pointed away from both a surprised waiter and a concerned Jungkook, who awkwardly thanks the man and leans over to pat your back. 
“You good?” He asks, brows furrowed. 
Coughing, you say, “I’m okay, I’m okay. It just—it went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.” Jungkook doesn’t buy it, and the little coughs escaping your throat don’t do much to corroborate your claim. “Seriously, Jungkook. I’m okay. It’s just water.”
“You looked like you were on the verge of death,” Jungkook frowns. 
“That’s just my face,” you fire back. “Just keep talking about what you were saying earlier. What was it?”
“Being a good boyfriend,” Jungkook says, and with no water near your lips to distract you this time, your mind bears the full force of his words, weighing down on your shoulders like a calculus textbook. 
It’s not as if you aren’t already aware that Jungkook would be the best boyfriend in the entire world, bar none. Not as if you don’t sit in bed and dream of a parallel universe, a life other than the one you’re living in right now, where Jungkook is lovely and wonderful and yours. He knocks on your door at a random hour in the afternoon with Chinese takeout from the local restaurant. He remembers your homework assignments when you forget them. He sits in bed with you and judges the Instagrams of the guys on the latest Bachelorette season. It’s as if he was already yours.
“Believe me,” you scoff. “The people know how great of a boyfriend you are.” 
“It’s fake, though,” Jungkook reminds you. “It’s only for a night. An evening, really.”
“Better than nothing,” you sigh. “If only I had enough money to rent myself a fake boyfriend for a night.”
“If only your parents were the CEOs of a multibillion dollar cooperation,” Jungkook adds on. 
“Truth,” you say, and you and Jungkook toast to that. Toast to knowing that some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Toast to knowing that some of those people can get for themselves something you can only imagine in your wildest dreams—a night with Jungkook. More than just a night. A night spent dressed up in your fanciest clothes, arms wrapped tightly around each other. A night spent as a couple, rather than you and Jungkook. 
Toast to knowing that even if you’ll never get to have him like that, you get to have him like this, and you’d rather it be like this than nothing at all. 
“You don’t need to rent a fake boyfriend for a night, Y/N,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve downed the water in your glasses (stay hydrated!). “You shouldn’t feel pressured to spend time with people you don’t want to spend time with.”
You don’t understand, you sigh. I’d give anything to spend time with you. 
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Jungkook pays. He says that he’s made more money accompanying wealthy socialites—even ones that don’t go to your school, because word gets around—than he would in a month’s worth of shifts at the call center. He says he’s never looking back. He’s probably not going to give up the gig for a while, either. 
“Just because you have cash now doesn’t mean you get a free pass to pay for everything we do together,” you warn. You’ve always split the price of meals, split the price birthday cakes for your friends. In the beginning of freshman year, Jungkook ate a quarter of a bag of goldfish you had and paid you fifty-three cents to account for his consumption, which you immediately sent back to him. You still fight over it, finding surreptitious ways to incorporate it into the Venmo payments you make to each other. 
“I’m rich, I can do whatever I want with my money,” Jungkook proclaims. “And if that means treating my best friend to a meal, then that means I’m gonna treat her to a meal.”
“That’s very rude of you,” you tell him pointedly. “Zero out of ten, worst best friend in the entire world. Will not accept my Venmo payments.”
Walking down the sidewalk, side by side, Jungkook wraps an arm around you and pulls you in for a side hug as you come to a stop at a traffic light. “You always do so much for me and Chaewon. You deserve to be treated once in a while, Y/N.”
“Why, ‘cause I go out to CVS at ten at night to get you Nyquil after you catch the common cold from some sweaty guy at the gym?” 
“That,” Jungkook nods, conceding, “and also because you’re one of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. The people who know you are lucky to get to say your name.”
If only Jungkook knew that he was the exact same. It’s an honor to know him. It’s a blessing to love him. 
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“What fancy clothes do you own?” Chaewon’s lying on your bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone. 
“I don’t know,” you respond, brows furrowing. You get up from your desk chair to start fishing through your closet,  “I have, like, some business casual stuff.”
“How about a dress?”
You whip around suspiciously, eyeing Chaewon as she lounges around in your room and acts like she isn’t plotting something nefarious. “Don’t you think you could tell me what you’re trying to convince me to do before you ask me if I have the appropriate clothing?” 
Even lying on her back, Chaewon still manages to roll her eyes, sitting up to meet your gaze. “There’s a gala tonight to celebrate some big business deal being closed and I want you to come with me,” she says like it’s a chore, exasperated. 
“Me?” You frown. “Why not Jungkook?”
“He said he had some thing to do for some other girl,” Chaewon says. The topic clearly is not at the forefront of her mind. It’s a little too obvious that it’s at the forefront of yours. “Besides, I was given no date restrictions and you deserve to have a little fun tonight. It’s a Friday!”
“I just want to stay in bed and play Legend of Zelda,” you tell her. 
“You’re already out of bed,” Chaewon points out unhelpfully. 
“Well, then I want to get into bed and play Legend of Zelda,” you rephrase. 
Chaewon pouts. “Noooo, please? It’ll be fun, I swear,” Chaewon pleads.  “It’s a huge party and hundreds of people are going to be there. Everybody gets to bring a plus one. You won’t be the only person who doesn’t know anything about business and has to cling onto their date in order to survive.”
“Gee, thanks. That makes me want to go so much,” you deadpan. 
“Seriously, Y/N. When was the last time you went out on a Friday?”
A while ago. You and Jungkook started having Mario Kart nights on Friday in the middle of your freshman year after you both came to the conclusion that every frat party smells, sounds, and tastes like the same fifty shades of college regret. You haven’t gone out since. 
“Not that long ago,” you lie. It’s been months.
“Yeah, right,” Chaewon scoffs. “Don’t think I don’t see your Bitmoji on the SnapMap sitting in your damn apartment on a Friday at 11PM,” she scolds.
“I’m gonna turn off my location,” you declare. You’ve had enough of Snapchat exposing you and your location. People can live in mystery about your whereabouts from now on. They don’t need to know. Chaewon certainly does not. 
“No excuses, you’re coming with me to the gala! You must have something to wear in that closet of yours, don’t you?” She slides off of your bed with a thud and joins you as you stand in front of your clothes. None of them scream fancy. None of them even whisper it. You stand back as she shuffles through your clothes, hangers squeaking as she shoves them along the rail. Chaewon tears through your clothing faster than you skim through your economics readings. “Aha! What do we have here?”
She whips out a dress from the very back of your closet, right behind the blazer you never wear because you’d rather be caught dead than in business attire. It’s old—you don’t think you’ve worn it since the beginning of your freshman year when you thought you actually had to dress up for parties. Needless to say, you dry-cleaned it the following Monday and never wore it again. You don’t even recall bringing it to college this year. 
“This is perfect!” Chaewon cries. “Really says ‘I can fucking dress myself’, don’t you think?”
“Are you implying that I can’t dress myself?” 
“You should definitely wear this,” Chaewon decides, dodging the question. “Gucci and Louis Vuitton are overrated, anyway.”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I.” Chaewon thrusts the dress towards you.
Chaewon shakes her head. “Of course you don’t.” 
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Three hours later finds you one makeup and hair session later, standing in the lobby of a magnificent skyscraper wearing a dress that maybe could have done without the cup of frozen yogurt that you ate before you arrived. Now you remember why you haven’t really worn it since the beginning of last year. Has it shrunk?
“I feel like a loser, Chaewon,” you hiss as she bats her eyelashes and gets directed to the private elevator that will lead you both to the top floor. “A money-less, jobless loser.”
“At least you’re honest, Y/N,” Chaewon whispers back as you step into the elevator. Despite being nearly an hour and a half late (“Fashionably so!” Chaewon exclaims.) you are crowded into the back corner, several other couples stepping inside to join you, all of them wearing clothes that cost more than your tuition for all four years of college, combined. “That’s better than most of the people here.”
Nothing separates the rich from the poor like morality. 
When the elevator doors open, you and Chaewon are the last group to step out, milling about in the corner until the path is free. And when you turn your gaze away from her, you realize just why Jungkook’s so keen on going to events like these, why he never turns down an offer when it lights up his phone screen. 
In movies, rich people flaunt their wealth so extravagantly that it almost looks fake. From gigantic ice sculptures to ten-feet-tall chocolate fountains, entire orchestras and dresses worth thousands of dollars, it makes you wonder if rich people really do see those items as necessities when throwing a party. They rent out entire European castles and the press publicizes every one of their actions. To you, it looks contrived, unrealistic. Even if rich people have enough money to sustain the bottom 99% for hundreds of years, how could they spend their money on nonsense like this?
As it turns out, the ice sculptures and chocolate fountains are only half of the story.
At this gala, the hosts have spared no expense. The entire penthouse is made purely of glass, from the ceiling, to the floor, to the walls in between, giving you an absolutely breathtaking view of the city lights dozens of feet below you, of the stars millions of light years away. It’s as if you’re standing in a bubble, frozen in time, the world sparkling and twinkling and shimmering around you. You didn’t even know a place like this existed on Earth. The price to book it must be astronomical. The view, even more so. 
“Holy fuck,” you murmur, mouth dropping open at the sight. It’s a movie come to life. It’s a picture straight out of a fairytale. 
“Pretty sweet, right?” Chaewon says, clearly proud of herself for convincing you to join her. “The Parks and the Ohs really felt like celebrating.”
“No shit,” you say, dumbfounded. Chaewon wraps her arm around yours and leads you out of the elevator, her poise and grace akin to that of a princess. She’s been to this place before. She could do this in her sleep. 
“Pictures first, then we eat, and then we mingle,” Chaewon instructs, and you nod diligently. She’s the only way you’re going to make it out of this night unscathed. Without her, you don’t know what you’d do. 
On the average day of an average life of an average person, pictures means getting a stranger to take a single pic on your shitty iPhone at your worst angle, which you will begrudgingly post to your Instagram later after extensive editing. 
But this is not your average day, and these are not average lives of not average people. Pictures means professional photographers with entire setups, standing with their cameras held up to their eyes, poised and ready for the next shot. It means couples, one by one, stepping in front of a gorgeous backdrop and posing, over and over, as five photographers at once cram to get their best angle, the cleanest photo. 
You don’t know how to pose for photos. You barely remember what the proper formatting is for your essays, depending on the citation structure. And yet, Chaewon is ushering you over in front of the photographers, immediately striking one of her classic, perfect poses as you flail about, trying to figure out what to do with your hands. 
“Just relax,” Chaewon advises. Even standing beside you, she can see you panicking in her periphery. “And smile. You’re beautiful, so show them that.”
Eventually, as the photographers switch positions to get different angles, you stop worrying about your hands, stop worrying about your bag, your feet, your head tilt, and just grin. You may not have millions of dollars to your name, but it’s a Friday night and you’re living the life of a billionaire with no responsibilities. You deserve to live a little. 
When the next group comes up, Chaewon nudges you out of the way and whispers to one of the photographers, who nods dutifully in response. Wrapping her arm around yours once more, she guides you to the massive catering setup, tables and tables lined with delicacies from every country you could imagine. And of course, a gargantuan chocolate fountain in the middle of it all. 
Your stomach rumbles. Clearly, the frozen yogurt was not enough to hold you off. Or maybe it’s just because you’ve been eating college dining hall food for weeks now, and are probably going to throw up if you have to have dry beef one more time. 
“If you want to, you should try the caviar. It’s delicious. Avoid the eggplant, it tastes like foot, but the brussel sprouts are delicious. Kimchi’s good, too. Classic,” Chaewon instructs as you walk around the tables, placing servings the size of quarters onto your plate just so you can have a taste of everything. Chaewon sticks to some ribs, pan-seared salmon, and a vegetable so expensive you’ve never even heard of it before. 
“Im Chaewon, is that you?”
“Mrs. Kim!”
A strange older woman comes up to the two of you as you’re dishing up, and Chaewon’s face immediately lights up. The woman goes in for a hug, a barely-touching pat of the shoulders and hands. Over her shoulder, you watch as Chaewon rolls her eyes and pulls a face. 
“How are you, dear? You look so grown up,” Mrs. Kim says. You watch as the light slowly fades from Chaewon’s eyes with each second that passes. 
“I’m very well, Mrs. Kim. Did you get your hair done? It makes you look so youthful.” Chaewon’s a master. She glares at you when Mrs. Kim isn’t looking, raising her eyebrows as if to say learn, young padawan. This is how it’s done. They go on for a couple minutes, showering fake compliments on each other as you slowly begin to eat. You scrunch your nose up. Chaewon’s right. The eggplant does taste like foot. 
“And who is this?” Mrs. Kim asks, turning her focus onto you. You look up like a deer in headlights, a brussel sprout puffing your cheek. You were not meant to mingle and eat at the same time. 
“This is one of my closest friends, Y/N,” Chaewon introduces for you. You nod your hello, chewing the brussel sprout in the most nondescript manner possible in an effort to save whatever is left of your dignity. “She’s pre-law.”
You are not pre-law.
“Oh, how wonderful! You must have a lot you want to accomplish in life,” Mrs. Kim says. God, you couldn’t care less about how Mrs. Kim feels about you.
“Yes, definitely,” you say awkwardly. 
“We really must be going, Mrs. Kim. My parents will want me to make sure I do my rounds,” Chaewon says, a hand on your arm as she makes to get you both the fuck out of there. 
“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Kim concedes, sending you and Chaewon one final goodbye before moving on to find her next victim. 
When she leaves, Chaewon seems to let out the biggest exhale of her life. “Holy fucking shit, I thought she’d never leave,” she exclaims, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in a single go. “She’s an associate of my father’s, so she’s always trying to kiss my damn ass. Like, sorry that you need to brown-nose your boss and his daughter just so you bribe your idiot son’s way into college.”
“You like mingling, I take?” You joke. 
“Just murder me.”
“Have any tips?”
“Flex as hard as possible without actually flexing. Try to speak to people your age because they are usually more bearable than people older than you. The best conversationalists are anybody under the age of ten,” Chaewon tells you. She picks up another glass of Prosecco. “Want some champagne?” 
“You have it,” you tell her. “I think you need it more than I do.”
Chaewon shrugs. Not as if they’re running out any time soon. She gulps it down and places it on the tray of one of the caterers as they whiz by her. 
The rest of the night passes by in the same way the beginning of it did. Chaewon drags you around the penthouse, talking with her father’s business partners and associates and their sons and daughters and husbands and wives for no more than two minutes each before moving on. She’s got her technique down pat. Greet, compliment, shade, flex, compliment, say goodbye. It’s foolproof, because you immediately notice that everyone else in the room has adopted the same approach. 
Business gatherings like these are just one big game of who can be the most-liked and the least-liked at the same time. And the answer: everybody, all at once. 
Halfway through the evening, Chaewon collapses against the back wall, totally unafraid of the possibility of the glass giving out behind her. She doesn’t care. If it breaks, it breaks. 
“I just need a break,” Chaewon declares. “Because everyone in here is so fucking fake, and you’re the only one I can talk to without wanting to rip out my eardrums.”
“I’m honored,” you say sarcastically. 
“When I say you’re the only honest one here, I mean it,” Chaewon says. You lean back against the wall next to her, looking out into a sea of people in fancy clothes with fancy food and fancy friends. “Look at all these people, Y/N. All these fucking people, and you’re the only one who’s true.”
And then, you spot him. 
He’s far away, standing in a group of people you don’t recognize, a hand on the small of another girl’s back. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, tight-fitting and tailored, a silver watch sparkling on his wrist as he adjusts his sleeves. One of the other young men in the group says something funny, and he tilts his head back to laugh, chuckling as the girl beside him curls into his arms. 
You suppose it would have been ignorant of you to assume Jungkook was elsewhere on a night like this, at a gathering where everybody who knows anybody is here. 
Jungkook must not know you’re here. He mustn't, otherwise he would have come over to find you. You must have entered at different times, spent the night wandering around different parts of the penthouse. Clinging onto Chaewon’s arms, you must have avoided his gaze, and he, yours. 
Chaewon hasn’t spotted him either. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better, if you’re the only one stuck with the knowledge that he’s here tonight. Chaewon would pity you. Other people would ask you how you knew such a worldly, experienced man like him. And you would spend the night wallowing in sadness, wondering why it’s never you that gets to spend the night next to him. 
From this distance, you can see Jungkook perfectly. The light from the moon shines down on him like a goddamn spotlight, catching the sparkling on his wrist, leaving a silver gleam in his slicked back hair. You watch as he laughs, smiles, talks, grins and beams and socializes. Of course he’s here. Of course. He’s so good at this, so good at being real and genuine and happy. 
Chaewon says the only person in the room who is true is you, but how can that be? How can that be when Jungkook, the most honest, wonderful, real person you know, is standing in front of you? You aren’t honest. You aren’t true and real and whole. You stand on the sidelines, a wallflower in a room of daisies and roses, and pine from afar. Watch as he pretends to date a girl that’s not you, wraps his arm around her waist and kisses her cheek, and you act like everything is alright. 
It sucks, being trapped like this for fear of him seeing you. You know that would be worse—if he saw you standing alone and decided to take matters into his own hands. Seeing him up close in a penthouse like this, a movie set, shimmering and sparkling, it would be worse. Jungkook pulls the girl beside him in close to his side, smiling as he listens to someone else speak. She’s the perfect height in those heels, just tall enough to rest her head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder. You imagine them walking into the room together, hand in hand. Imagine them posing for the pictures like a real couple, a pair of celebrities. 
You suppose you have no reason to be jealous of her, of him, of what they have. Jealousy is when resenting someone for having something that you once had. You never had a life like that with Jungkook. You’ll never have a life like that with him. Never get dressed up to go out, never get to be his date to an event. Never get pictures taken of you as a couple, never feed each other candies and strawberries dipped in chocolate. You can’t be jealous of her. You were never in the running to begin with. 
“Ready to get back out there?” Chaewon asks, placing a firm hand on your shoulder. 
A waiter comes by with a tray of champagne flutes, offering it to the both of you. 
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chaewon tells you as she takes a glass for herself. 
You sigh, casting another glance over at Jungkook. He and his date are moving around now, joining another social circle on the opposite side of the penthouse. He looks so at ease, so comfortable. He belongs there, in the middle of it all, talking and laughing and grinning. And you? You belong back at home, underneath your duvet covers playing a game of Mario Kart. Not here. 
You shake your head. You could use a drink or two in this state. “I’d love one, actually. Thank you.”
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That night, you stay at Chaewon’s place. 
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“You’ve been acting weird.”
“Hello to you, as well,” you say with a scowl as Chaewon sits down across from you at the local ramen place. 
“Listen,” Chaewon begins, “I’ve been thinking. You need to confess to Jungkook.”
You nearly spit out the complimentary water you were served. “Excuse me?”
“You need to. You’ve been acting weird and that’s the only thing that’s going to fix it,” Chaewon declares. 
“What do you mean I’ve been ‘acting weird’? Care to explain?” You ask, offended. You haven’t been acting weird. Well, that weird. Maybe a little weird.
“Jungkook told me you haven’t seen each other for the last eight days,” Chaewon points out. Eight days? It’s more like seven and a half. Not that you’ve been counting, or anything. 
“So? We’re busy people,” you defend. It’s a good enough excuse. You’re sophomores in college. You have classes. Clubs. You have to meal prep. 
“So? You guys are best friends. You make time to see each other at three in the fucking morning if you haven’t seen each other yet that day. And you haven’t seen each other for eight whole days? What’s wrong with you?” Chaewon demands. 
“Nothing! What the heck, I invite you out to a best friend ramen date and you just blaspheme all over me like this?” You accuse. This is not how you imagined today to be going. This isn’t how you imagined this week to be going. “Besides, it’s only been seven and a half days. He’s over-exaggerating.”
“Seven and a—holy fuck, you are literally the worst. Can you just stop resisting? If you tell him, everything will be fine and go back to the way things were,” Chaewon says, blinking, flabbergasted. 
“No, they will not,” you hiss. “Everything will change if I tell him. We’re best friends, Chae. Imagine if I told you that I loved you. What would you do?”
“I’d love you back, that’s what!” Chaewon tells you. “You deserve to be loved back, Y/N. Nothing would change between us. I already love you. You’re one of my most favorite people ever. I would never regret something if it was with you.”
“It’s different with him, though,” you try to explain. You don’t know why—you just know that it is. The way you’re friends with Chaewon and the way you’re friends with Jungkook are entirely separate. You love Chaewon. You’re not in love with Chaewon. 
“Is it? How?” Chaewon says. 
“I don’t know, I just—it’s different with him.” There’s no way to describe it. Jungkook appeared in your life and it was as if everything just clicked into place. There isn’t a single thing in your life that makes more sense to you than Jungkook. “It’s always been different with him. With you, I—I knew that we would become really close friends once we started talking a lot more in the beginning of freshman year. But with him—I don’t know. From the moment I met him, I knew that I would fall in love with him. When he said hello to me, I was fucked. There’s never been any hope for me, Chae. I just have to live like this forever.”
Chaewon rolls her eyes. “No, you don’t. You don’t even see what the fuck is right in front of you.”
“God, I’m friends with idiots. Literal idiots. How you guys have made it through nearly a year and a half of college is beyond me,” Chaewon says to nobody in particular. “Seriously, tell me, Y/N. What do you think will happen if you tell him? Just out of curiosity.”
“I don’t know—” you pause. A lot of things. He tells you he just wants to stay friends. He rejects you because he’s not interested that way and you can’t really be friends anymore because it’s weird now. He’s already interested in somebody else. He’s already dating somebody else and you never even knew. He’s not looking for a relationship right now. Things get awkward because you confessed to your best friend that you’re in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same. You end up never speaking to each other. You never see each other. You go through the rest of university seeing each other on the Green by chance and not knowing what to do. You graduate and move on with your lives. And suddenly, he’s just a past friend you used to have. No longer a part of your life. No longer given the chance to. “He rejects me. We never speak again and have to avoid each other at all costs. He lets me down easy and I feel like a total loser for having confessed in the first place. There’s a lot.”
“Jesus, Y/N. Aren’t you forgetting a possibility?” Chaewon says, eyebrows raised high. 
“I’m omitting a lot of them,” you tell her. Including the one where, in the next three years, you end up in a hellish dystopian wasteland and you have to band together to survive but it’s awkward and terrible because you love him still and he doesn’t feel the same, never has and never will, and now you have to fight off zombies and a corrupt autocratic government all while dealing with your own goddamn feelings. That may be the most unbearable one of them all. 
“How about the one where he actually feels the same?”
“Too unrealistic,” you tell Chaewon. It’s the truth. Why else would Jungkook be traipsing around with beautiful, rich, worldly girls on his nights off? He does it for the money, sure, but he likes it. He loves the experience, loves living that sort of life. You’d never be able to provide that for him. “You know that’s never going to happen, Chae. We’re just friends.”
“Well, he thinks that we’re just friends. And I’m not gonna fuck everything up by telling him that I’ve been madly in love with him for the past year and a half.” You can think of nothing worse. 
“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe he thinks that the two of you are just friends because you refuse to actually show him how you feel?” Chaewon asks pointedly, eyebrows raised in disapproval. She looks about ready to walk out of the restaurant. “You never do things to give him a reason to think otherwise.”
“Why would I?” 
When your ramen arrives, Chaewon takes a deep breath, downs the rest of her glass of water, and moves on. It’s clear that if she thinks about this any more, her head will explode. 
Nothing’s ever going to change between you and Jungkook. You knew, when you first met him, that it was always going to hurt like this. That loving him was something you had to sacrifice to stay close to him. He lights up every fucking room he walks into, and it’s all you can do not to sit there and bask in his warmth. You would rather catch a single one of his rays than be in the darkness. And if being friends with him means that friends is all you’ll ever be, then so be it. You’re lucky to have him like this. Why take the plunge? 
“Just—” Chaewon says as you begin to pull apart the noodles in your own bowl. “I know that you aren’t as happy as you could be right now. And you deserve to be happy, Y/N. You deprive yourself of all of these wonderful things, and I just want you to know that you deserve every single one of them. But telling him? That’s something that even I know would make you the happiest. You shouldn’t live like this, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re missing out on if you do.”
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The streak of not seeing Jungkook ends the next day, when you come back from an evening grocery store run to find him standing outside your door, hand about to knock on the wood. He’s all dressed up again, button-down and slacks, hair styled and parted, and you watch as he takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s waiting for the best time to knock. 
He practically jumps out of his skin at the sound of your voice, nearly tripping over his own feet as he lays his eyes on you. 
“Oh, Y/N!” He exclaims. “I was just about to see if you were home.”
“You could have just texted, you know,” you say jokingly, joining him at the front door as you fumble for your keys. 
“I wanted to surprise you,” Jungkook admits sheepishly. 
“Well, make it up to me by helping me unpack these,” you demand, kicking the door open as you reach down to grab your reusable canvas bags filled with groceries. Immediately, Jungkook is leaning down to grab all of them for you, hauling them inside like they weigh nothing. You stare as he heads over to your kitchen without breaking a sweat, biceps clenching as he lifts the groceries up onto the counter. 
“What’d you get?” Jungkook asks, slowly beginning to take out the groceries. He’s in your apartment so often that he’s memorized where all of your food goes, from the correct shelf in the fridge for produce to the proper cabinet for cereal. 
“Just like… groceries. I saw a box of peppermint chocolate bars that I thought you might like, they’re in there somewhere,” you say mindlessly, pointing to a random canvas bag. Immediately, Jungkook abandons his putting-away-groceries duty to fish through each of the bags, hunting for the box of goodies. “And I got some cheap Trader Joe’s wine. You know. Just for emergencies.”
“Trader Joe’s wine and peppermint chocolate bars,” Jungkook comments, nodding in approval. He finally finds the box and tears it open sideways. “Sounds like a perfect dessert if I’ve ever heard one.”
“What, did you eat already?” You ask, busting out the wine and a couple of mugs, because you don’t own any wine glasses. Nothing says cultured like drinking seven-dollar wine out of mugs with kitschy sayings like “don’t talk to me until this is empty” or “coffee is my first love” written on them. 
Jungkook shrugs. He grabs the box and heads over to your couch, already kicking back and relaxing. “Yeah, I went to some restaurant for another double date,” Jungkook says. “It was one of those places where everything is so expensive but the portions are the size of my fist. Of your fist.”
“You sound hungry,” you note, filling up the mugs and joining him. “And mad.”
“I’m getting reimbursed for the money I spent tonight, so I suppose I could be angrier. But I’m starving. Let’s finish this entire box of chocolates and do nothing else.”
“Your words, not mine,” you say, although his proposal sounds more than appealing to you. 
You turn the television on for some background noise, switching to a channel showing old reruns of unsolved serial killer cases, because nothing sets the mood better than the words “then, slowly, he took the knife with which he killed her and began to slice away at her body”. Jungkook doesn’t seem to pay the television any attention, though, instead focused entirely on the chocolate in front of him, calling his name. 
He takes an enormous bite out of one before moaning far too sexually for your liking, tossing his head back in bliss. “Oh my God.”
Jungkook moans again in response.
“Please don’t orgasm on this couch. Who knows what other bodily fluids were on here before we bought it,” you ask calmly. 
“I’d say that’s nasty, but you guys did cover this with one of those couch covers, so it’s not like my body is coming into contact with other people’s body stains,” Jungkook reasons. The couch cover is the single best purchase you’ve made this entire year. Possibly your entire life. “But they’re delicious. You made a good purchase.”
“I thought you would like them,” you say. “You’re the only person I know who actually likes the combination of mint and chocolate.”
“People who say that it tastes like toothpaste are brushing their teeth with the wrong kind of toothpaste,” he tells you pointedly. “I don’t understand. This is God’s combination. It’s perfect.”
“As long as you love it, that’s all that matters,” you tell him with a pat on his back, breaking off a square of the chocolate bar for yourself. It is pretty good, even if mint chocolate ice cream does sometimes taste like toothpaste. But you’d never tell Jungkook that, of course. 
Jungkook takes a swig of the wine, picking up the mug and gulping down about half of it, the wine bitter on his tongue. “Goes great with this wine, too,” he jokes. You take a sip yourself. It’s… not very good. Actually, rather sticky. No wonder it was only seven dollars. 
“You don’t have to lie to me, I know it tastes like ass,” you tell him honestly. To be fair, you and Jungkook have both had worse. Compared to the shit served at frat parties, this may as well be beautifully-aged Malbec. 
“It only tastes a little bit like ass,” Jungkook compromises. “But it doesn’t not taste like ass.”
“Let’s finish it now so we don’t have to have any more of it later,” you decide. “You’ve probably had some of the best alcohol in your life this semester.”
Jungkook thinks back, tilting his head to the side as he begins to recall all of the instances in the past few months when he’s had anything to drink. “Soju’s still my favorite. But yeah, I’d say I’ve had wine that probably costs more than my textbooks for this semester if I hadn’t pirated them all.”
“The beauty of being a CS student,” you muse. 
“You know it,” he says, holding his half-empty mug out as a toast to himself. “But seriously, even if this Trader Joe’s wine literally tasted like garbage, it would still be better than all of that other shit.”
You turn to him, skeptical. Even the single night you spent with Chaewon, in a penthouse amongst the stars, drinking champagne and eating strawberries dipped in chocolate, was more than you could ever dream of. You woke up the next day on an air mattress in her bedroom and wanted nothing more than to go back to basking in the luxury, desperate for another taste. It was addicting. How could Jungkook ever prefer what he has right now to what he had last night? 
“Really? Don’t say that just to make me feel better,” you tell him. You can take it. Jungkook has every reason to prefer the fancy meals, the penthouses, the suits and ties to your janky little apartment and old clothes from high school. The two aren’t at all on the same level. They’re not even in the same goddamn game. If you could drop everything to have what Chaewon has, what the other girls and boys who pay for Jungkook’s company have, you would. 
“I’m not,” Jungkook tells you seriously. “I mean it. I would rather sit in your room, hunched over your tiny Switch because you lost the HDMI cord to plug it into the television, playing Mario Kart than out there, pretending to be someone I’m not.”
“But it was fun in the beginning, wasn’t it? Getting to be rich without the moral ambiguity that comes along with being part of the upper class?” You ask. It must have been. Jungkook looked so happy when he first started doing these gigs, coming back to your apartment in a state of bliss, a little tipsy from the expensive champagne and steak. He’d knock on your door and tell you all about the night, from how older businessmen handed him their cards and offered him jobs, to the hundreds of ice cream flavors you could only ever dream of eating. Everything seemed so wonderful to him.
Jungkook shrugs, pouring himself more wine. “Yeah, I guess, but it gets so old after a while. Like, no wonder Chaewon was so desperate for me to go with her that first time. It sucks the damn life out of you. You walk around and mingle and pretend that you’re the greatest person on Earth, talking about yourself and kissing up to the other people for an entire night. Honestly, sometimes it’s worse than my CS homework. And I hate that shit.”
“Chaewon mentioned that the eggplant usually tastes like foot,” you add. Jungkook nods in agreement. 
“Yeah, it does. She warned me about it the first night and I, like a fool, tried it because I usually like eggplant. And it still tasted like foot. Never again,” Jungkook says, shivering at the mere thought of it. It’s funny, actually, because you did the exact same thing. “But the food is like, the one thing I pretty much don’t have the right to complain about. It’s delicious and usually free.”
“But I hope that you’re having fun,” you tell him honestly, because you do. When you’re sitting in your room, eating two different pints of Ben & Jerry’s, you hope that Jungkook, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, is enjoying himself more than you are. Because he deserves it. You never want there to be a time when he’s sad, when he’s unhappy or bored. Jungkook deserves to live the happiest version of life he possibly can. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”
“I do,” Jungkook says. There’s a second half to that sentence. “I do—it’s just that… It's so fake, you know? I feel like such a goddamn actor when I’m there. I get to live this extravagant lifestyle for a few hours but in return I don’t even know who I’m looking at when I look in the mirror.”
“Like, I pretend to be this business student, when I’m not. I pretend to have millions of dollars to my name, when I don’t. I hold hands and pose for pictures with people Chaewon is vaguely familiar with and nothing, literally nothing, feels real. I don’t know.” Jungkook takes another swig from the mug. “Even the relationships I have when I’m there are fake.”
“Do you hate it that much, then?” You ask him. If it’s so awful and terrible, then why does he keep doing it? Keep dressing up and going out, holding hands with and wrapping his arm around them?
“No,” Jungkook says, sighing as he leans back into the couch. “I don’t hate it. I just—I wish I had something real afterwards to come back home to.”
Real? Like what? Like you? You aren’t real. You sit next to your best friend and pretend that everything is fine. That nothing hurts. You’ve had the biggest crush on him ever since you laid eyes on him, and you’re doing everything in your power to make sure that he’s the only one that doesn’t know. 
“That’s why I’m always coming back to your apartment afterwards,” Jungkook says. He chuckles, but it isn’t his usual laugh. It sounds forced, contrived and fake. Jaded. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it almost immediately. Then, he breathes, long and slow. Thinks. The silence is almost unbearable. Waiting to hear what he has to say, even more so. “You’re the most genuine person I know. What we share—it’s real.”
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Tonight is the least lonely you’ve felt in a long time. 
Even though Jungkook has something tonight, you aren’t aching to be by his side, desperate to spend more time with him. He told you that he was really looking forward to this one, that it wasn’t going to be some stuffy gala or blind double date. He said something about going to karaoke with the girl and her friends, singing Britney Spears songs and taking shots of soju for hours on end, screaming his voice hoarse. And even if you aren’t there with him, you’re happy because you know that he’s happy, that he’s genuinely enjoying himself. 
So, you aren’t that lonely. 
Content with the state of your life as it is, you take the night off, ready to prepare yourself for a weekend that will almost certainly consist entirely of just work. Chaewon’s voice echoes in your mind (“I know that you aren’t as happy as you could be right now,” she had told you), but it’s different now. Because you are happy. You are happy, because Jungkook’s happy. The two of you see each other just as frequently as you used to. He texts you about his terrible CS homework and the Shiba Inu he just saw being walked across campus. It’s all gone back to the way it used to be. That’s what you had wanted. 
You were prepared for this. You knew that it would eventually boil down to this, down to whether or not you could take Jungkook not knowing how you feel any longer. But right now, you don’t care. Jungkook not knowing has always been a part of your friendship. The love you hold for him, in the spaces between your bones and deep in the cracks of your heart, that has always been there. You see it, hear it, feel it, whenever you’re with him. Even when you’re not with him, it will remind you, appear in the silence, the emptiness. It will always make itself known, because it’s become a part of you. From the moment you met him, it had settled into your heart.
Staring out of the window by your living room, overlooking the ugliest parking garage on campus, you sigh. You can’t see the stars from here, not even in the dead of night, but that’s alright. There is something so peaceful about the navy blue sky. About how mysterious and unknown it is. It calms you. You put on a movie that you’ve genuinely been wanting to watch for a while, sit down in your bed, amongst your duvet and sheets, pillows and plushies, and enjoy yourself, for once. It’s a good night. 
And then, much like most aspects of your terribly convoluted, over-complicated and confusing life, it all comes crashing down. 
There’s a faint thud from outside, a soft little non-noise that you assume is coming from the street. Not wanting to interrupt your movie—she’s just about to confess, holy shit—you ignore it. It’ll go away eventually. 
Then another thud. You pause, leaning towards your window to see if you can figure out the source. Silence. You’re just about to press play, when you hear it again. And again. It gets louder and louder, making up in volume what it lacks in rhythm and order, until you realize it’s someone knocking on your door. And not just knocking casually. It’s as if someone is shoving their whole body into it, shoulders and chest and feet hitting the wood as they bang on it. 
Oh, God.
Pushing off your duvet, you tug on your slippers and wipe away the crust around your eyes as you rush towards the door. You know who’s on the other side. You’re not sure if answering it is the better or worse option. 
You’ve always had an uncanny ability to pick the latter. 
When you open the door, Jungkook, in a fancy sweater pulled over a white button down and black jeans that could almost pass for dressy slacks, is standing on the other side. 
Correction: he’s sort of standing on the other side. He nearly topples over when you pull open the door, having clearly been leaning on it, and you barely have time to reach your arms out to catch him. 
“Oh! Y/N!” Jungkook exclaims, as if he’s surprised to see you inside your own apartment. “I was hoping to see you.”
“I figured,” you tell him, laughing. You guide him inside, and even in his state he remembers to tug off his clean white sneakers, kicking them towards the shoe rack. “It’s so late, Jungkook, you should go home.” 
“No,” Jungkook whines. “I wanted to see you. I missed you.”
“We saw each other this morning, Jungkook. And this afternoon, right before you went out,” you remind him. The words go in one ear and out the other, and he pulls you in close to him, wrapping his arms around you as he presses his body against yours in a sweaty hug. His grip is tight around you as he rests his head on your shoulder, breathing you in as if you’d been gone for years. Slowly, after a few seconds, you pull away from him, a hand on his shoulder to get him to look at you through his too-long bangs, hanging over his eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong? I’m right here, don’t worry. I never left.”
“I had a lot to drink tonight,” Jungkook tells you, blinking rapidly. “Like, a lot. They just kept ordering soju and I just kept drinking it. It was really good. Have you had strawberry soju? It’s delicious.”
“I might have had it once or twice,” you fib, not able to recall having it one way or another. “Come on, sit down,” you point him towards the couch, but he refuses, clinging onto you even as you make your way towards the kitchen. “Jungkook, please, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“But I missed you,” Jungkook repeats. “I missed you a lot. I thought about you the entire time I was there.”
You can’t say you didn’t do the same. 
“Next time we’ll do something together then, hey? Something really fun, like going to an arcade or bowling,” you promise him with a pat on his shoulder. “But you need to drink some water, JK. Can you please sit down?”
“No, I want to be with you,” Jungkook says like it’s nothing. Like the feeling of him wrapped around you like this, holding onto you and telling you that he misses you, that he thinks about you, doesn’t mean anything. You don’t think your heart has beaten since you opened the door to see him standing on the other side. 
(You don’t think it’s beaten since you met him. Since he came up to you on the pavement, asking you for directions. Since you told him your name, and he told you his.)
“Ah, fine, just be careful, I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” you concede, because it’s so easy to let him have his way, so easy to say yes to him. You manage to grab an empty water bottle and fill it up with what’s left in your Brita, too lazy to refill it after it’s left bone dry. Slowly, you make your way to your bedroom, out of view of the central living space, where your roommates could burst through the door at any moment and see you taking care of your drunk best friend on the sofa. 
Slowly, you settle on your bed, sitting off of the edge of it as you cajole him into drinking some water, whispering soft nothings to make sure he finishes the whole thing. 
“Does your head hurt or anything?” You ask him, already looking around for the stash of Advil you usually keep on your nightstand.
“No, no, I’m fine, Y/N, seriously,” he promises, even if you can see the glazed-over look in his eyes, the way his sweaty bangs stick to his forehead. “You’re too nice, you know? Always treating me when I show up at your place. Even when you don’t invite me.”
“You know I never mind seeing you,” you tell him. “You can come over whenever you want. I’m always here.”
“No, you’re not,” Jungkook says with a pout, and it makes you furrow your brows. When have you not been? Jungkook’s been going out to events ever since the beginning of the semester, and without fail, you’ve always been waiting for him at home, knowing he’ll turn up one way or another. Except, there was— “That one time a couple of weeks ago, I went to this crazy big gala with Eunha, there were so many people there, and I came back home afterwards and knocked on your door, and your roommates said they hadn’t seen you all day. Where were you that day?”
He had come? You didn’t know if he would. 
(Or maybe, you did. You knew he would show up at your door once he got back from that night, and selfishly, not wanting to see him after the fact, the leftover version of him, the part he leaves behind when he goes out. You knew he would be there and you couldn’t bear the thought of being the second girl he spends the night with. The other option. Maybe, you’ve known all along that you’ll never quite stack up to the girls he goes out with, and that sometimes, when you see him all dressed up while you’re in your hoodie and sweats, it reminds you is nothing more than a casual friendship.)
“I must have been out late with Chaewon that day, I’m sorry,” you apologize, letting him rest his head on your shoulder. “I didn’t know you would come.”
“I always come after my events. You know that.”
“I didn’t know if you’d remember to,” you correct. 
“I’d never forget about you,” Jungkook says, the alcohol erasing his filter. Making him honest. “I really missed you, that day. I had been waiting the entire night to see you.”
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” you promise, and this one is for real. 
“You know, today?” Jungkook says, pulling his head back so he can get a good look at you, your eyes meeting his own. “Today, I was so sad on my way here. It was so terrible, because I was drunk and sad and I missed you.”
“You were sad? What happened?” You ask, leaning in. Jungkook? Sad? Who would do such a thing to him? Who would erase the smile on his face, his crescent eyes, and replace them with tears? 
“This girl and I, she was a lot of fun. We sang a couple duets together and we were pretty good,” he hiccups, “kept winning. It was fun. She and I talked for a long time. I definitely liked her the most out of all of the girls I’ve gone out with. Besides Chaewon, of course.”
“What happened? Did she do something you didn’t want? You know you can tell me, Jungkook,” you ask, a hand on his arm. 
“No.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I don’t know. She was fun and I was drunk. We were on our way back in the Lyft when she leaned over and kissed me. And I kissed her back, and it was kind of nice. I haven’t really kissed someone like that in a while,” Jungkook tells you. And even though you’re hearing these words from him, hearing how he had all of this fun with a girl who isn’t you, how he kissed her in the backseat of a car, you rally, blinking away the tears you can feel forming in your eyes. It’s none of your business, you tell yourself. You and Jungkook aren’t together. You don’t get to feel bad about him kissing someone else. 
“Did you like it?” You ask, each word a pin in your chest. 
“It was pretty nice,” Jungkook admits. “We, uh, we made out a bit in the back of the car until we got to her place. And then we got out of the car and she asked me if I wanted to go back with her, to her room. And—and I almost said yes.” Jungkook looks about ready to combust. At his side, his fists are clenched so hard you’re worried he’ll pop a vein. 
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you tell him, looking him in the eyes so he knows that you don’t mind, that he can tell you these things without worry. Jungkook may be the love of your life, but he’s your best friend, first. He’s always been, before anything else, your best friend. 
“But there is!” Jungkook cries, standing up in anguish. “There is, Y/N, you don’t understand! I almost had sex with her!”
“You’re allowed to, Jungkook!” You assure him, standing up to reach out to him. 
“No, Y/N, you don’t get it,” he tells you coldly, pulling his hand away. “Why aren’t you mad? Aren’t you angry that I nearly had sex with her?”
“No, what the fuck, Jungkook, why would I be mad?” You shout back at him. “You can do whatever you want with your body, it’s not my job to police it! I’m your friend, not your mom!”
“But don’t you want to be more, Y/N?” He rounds on you. “Don’t you want to be the one kissing me, fucking me? Why aren’t you jealous?”
“Were you trying to make me jealous, Jungkook? Is that what you were trying to do? You wanted to get a reaction out of me because my best friend nearly fucked someone else and then didn’t? What the fuck, Jungkook? What do you want from me?”
“I just want you to tell me you fucking love me back!”
“Jungkook, what—”
Jungkook, eyes dark and furious, pushes you against your closet door as your lips part, feeling the breath get knocked out of your lungs. He’s so close. He’s right there, you can see him, watch as he looms over you, hands clenched in your hoodie as he presses you against the wall. And then, wordlessly, he’s leaning down, crashing your mouths together. 
Suddenly, your heart starts. You gasp into the kiss, the feeling of his mouth on top of yours. It’s fervent, hot and angry and passionate, his body against your own as your hands reach out to press against his head. You seize up at the feeling, almost as if in shock, before melting into his touch, leaning into him, desperate. You can feel his breath mixing in with your own, feel the way his chapped lips meet your overly-moisturized ones, feel how his hands drift from where they’re bunched up in the front of your hoodie to your waist, your hips, your thighs. Jungkook kisses ruthlessly, kisses like he’s trying to prove a point. Holds onto you like he’s afraid to let go. 
When you part, gasping for air, Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, blinking. 
“Jungkook, you’re drunk—” you tell him firmly, refusing to let get your hopes up if what you have in front of you is really just an intoxicated best friend. Your heart is beating miles a minute, about ready to thump right out of you, chest heaving and mouth agape. 
“That doesn’t matter,” Jungkook argues back. “Even when I’m sober I love you. Don’t tell me I’m confused because I’m drunk.”
“You show up at my place at one in the morning, tell me about how you made out with some other girl and almost slept with her just to get me angry, kiss me, and tell me not to tell you you’re confused?” You demand. “Jungkook, I’ve never been more confused in my life than right now, can you please just—”
“I love you, Y/N,” Jungkook says, and even though he’s angry, red in the face and sweaty, when he says it, it’s soft. It’s a whisper, a murmur. He says it not to convince you, but so you know. “I’ve been in love with you for so goddamn long, ever since I fucking met you. And I thought you might like me back but you never did anything about it, and so neither did I.”
“You need to go home, Jungkook,” you tell him, hiccuping. When you blink, you feel the warm tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even noticed them. “You can’t just come into my apartment and tell me shit like that. How do you think it makes me feel?”
“Do you feel the same, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, looking you in the eyes. He’s angry, that’s for sure, but even underneath, you can see the desperation, see how he’s just waiting for an answer. 
“Go home, Jungkook. Please. Let’s talk about this when you aren’t drunk, okay? I’m confused and I need to clear my head,” you plead, pushing him towards the door. “Please, okay? Be safe, too. I’ll call Chaewon to give you a ride,” you tell him, grabbing your phone. 
Jungkook puts a hand on your wrist. “I’ll be okay, Y/N. I just… Please, tell me. Did that kiss mean anything to you?”
“Yes, it did, but Jungkook, I can’t—”
“It meant something to me, too,” he tells you firmly, lets the words sink into the air around you.  He heads for the door, pulling on his shoes. He looks so sad. “Good night, Y/N.”
You place a hand on the doorknob. “Good night, Jungkook.”
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It’s barely nine in the morning the next day when a knock wakes you up. It’s soft at first, one every couple of seconds, before it gets progressively louder. Slowly, you get out of bed, trying to tame your hair as you rub the sleep from your eyes. 
“Y/N’s in her room. Is that for her? That’s so cute. Yeah, she’s probably awake. You can just knock.” It’s your roommate. 
You scramble to make your bed, pouring some water from the water bottle by your nightstand into your hand and splashing your face, wiping it away with an old t-shirt as you run towards the door, pulling it open just in time. 
On the other side is a much more tired, much less drunk Jungkook, one hand raised and about to knock, the other holding a bouquet of daisies. 
“Hey,” he says shyly, mouth breaking into a smile the moment he sees you. 
“Hey,” you say back. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, head hurts like hell, though,” Jungkook says. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah, s-sure, of course,” you say, stepping aside to let him into your bedroom. 
“These are for you.” Jungkook holds out the bouquet towards you, wrapped up neatly in cellophane and tied at the stems with a bow. “So you don’t have to keep Febreze-ing your room all of the time.”
“They’re beautiful, Jungkook,” you tell him, grinning as you take them from his hands. Today feels different from yesterday. It feels lighter, fresher. New. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I—” He pauses, taking a second to think, “I meant what I said, yesterday. Maybe not all of it, but. Most of it, yeah. I meant it.”
“Why did you try to make me jealous, Jungkook?” You ask him. “Why did you think that would work?”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook admits. “I shouldn’t have, and I fucked up. I just got so… so tired of waiting to see if you’d ever come around. I just wanted you to tell me. And then I guess I got so fed up that I told you instead.”
You place the bouquet on your dresser before walking towards him, reaching a hand out. “Yeah, that was a pretty big asshole move of you,” you chide, grinning to yourself. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighs. 
“But I’m happy you’re here,” you tell him. “And happy that you meant what you said. Maybe it could have been said in a less angry way, but hearing it made me happy.”
“I’m happy that you’re happy.” Jungkook grins. “You’re my favorite person, Y/N.”
“When you asked me, yesterday, if that kiss meant anything to me? And I said it did?” You begin, Jungkook nodding in front of you. He’s positively beaming. “It still does. I want to do that every day, Jungkook. Every hour. Every single second for the rest of my goddamn life.”
“You do?” Jungkook asks. 
“I love you, Jeon Jungkook. From day one, it’s always been you.” You smile, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. Feels like you’re fucking flying. Like you’re weightless. 
“I love you, too, Y/N. I never want to be away from your side,” he declares, and like a cheesy, rom-com movie, like the shitty novels you used to read in eighth grade, he pulls you in close and presses a kiss against your lips. Wraps his arms around your waist as he holds you tight, kisses you in the middle of your bedroom, in your hoodie and sweatpants, a bouquet of daisies on your dresser. He kisses you because he can, because for every second of every day for the rest of your goddamn life, he can kiss you, over and over and over. 
“We owe Chaewon an apology,” you tell him when you’re parted, sitting on your bed, wrapped up in each other’s arms. 
“Hell yeah we do,” Jungkook agrees. “She’s been on my ass for ages about telling you.”
“Mine too.”
“She’s such a great best friend,” Jungkook comments. “Knew all this time that her two friends were madly in love with each other and didn’t say a damn word to either of us. That’s loyalty.”
“We should do something for her, to make up for it all,” you suggest. 
“You know,” Jungkook says, grinning, “I know this guy who made bank this semester by going on fake dates with a bunch of really rich girls. Maybe he could help.”
“I know him, too,” you joke. “He’s the love of my fucking life.”
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Jeon Jungkook quits his job on the ninety-eighth day of the fall semester of his sophomore year.
You know this because on the ninety-eighth day of the fall semester of your sophomore year, he comes banging on the door of your apartment shared with three other girls at 7:18PM, eighteen minutes after he normally heads out on one of his many dates. 
“Y/N!” He shouts, banging wildly on your door. You rush over to open it, letting the pasta water on the stove boil over and sizzle on the heat. He’s barely gotten in a second knock when you turn the doorknob to reveal your smiling boyfriend in his oversized hoodie.
“Don’t tell me you’re blowing someone off for me,” you say, inviting him inside. He places a kiss on your cheek on the way in, taking off his shoes and coat as you rush over to take care of the pasta.
“Me? Blowing someone off? Never,” Jungkook says, mock offended. “I actually quit the dating thing, this afternoon. A girl asked if I was free and I said that I wasn’t, because I have to go home to my girlfriend making me a meal. Don’t you love the sound of that?” He asks, pleased with himself.
“You quit? I thought you liked doing that stuff,” you say, using the spaghetti fork to move around the linguine. “Hope you’re cool with boring old pasta for your meal tonight. You could have had caviar if you hadn’t quit.”
“I don’t care, it smells so good,” Jungkook tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he stands behind you, watching you cook from over your shoulder. “Look at you, being all domestic and shit. It’s very cute.”
“Stop rubbing in the fact that you’re the better cook, I get it. Pasta is all I got right now.” You pout, turning down the heat as you move to pour yourselves two cups of tea. Jungkook follows you the entire way to the kettle, grip on your waist never faltering. “You can keep going on those dates, you know. I don’t mind. I get to see you in a suit when you get back, and then I get to take it off of you. It’s a win-win.”
Jungkook pinches your waist in response. “If you have a thing for suits, you can just tell me, you know. I won’t be mad.”
You turn around to whack him with the spaghetti fork. “I do not!”
“Alright, Y/N, guess I won’t wear a suit next time you call me at two in the morning—”
“I never said you couldn’t,” you interrupt, making Jungkook laugh. 
“You’re so cute, Y/N,” Jungkook coos as you begin to dish up the pasta, making sure to add peas because Jungkook loves peas with his spaghetti. “But I quit because I have enough money to sustain me for the rest of the semester. I’ll work over break and get a new job next semester when the new work-study positions open. Don’t worry about me,” he assures you. 
“But didn’t you like going out and everything? Getting dressed up and drinking fancy champagne?” You ask, setting the plates down at your dinky kitchen table, a single scented candle lit in the center. 
Jungkook thinks about it for a split second, and then he shakes his head. “Nah. I like hanging out with my girlfriend more.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” you reason with a grin. 
Jungkook laughs, leaning over the table to plop a kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”
“Yeah, you pea-eating loser,” you chide, “I love you too.”
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venusiangguk · 3 months ago
idealizations concerning real life relations | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc
>>genre: s2l, fwb, smut, angst
>>word count: 40.9k besties i am so sorry
>>warnings: jk is so sweet, but also so evil lmao, oc lives in her little noggin, angsty fwb, drug and alcohol use, tattoos, multiple smut scenes that include: oral (m/f), fingering (f), light face slapping (with hand and cock??), praise, degradation, marking, dirty talk, so many creampies yum, multiple orgasms, kissing :(, cumming in pants :), probably more but i cant think of it, ok other stuff now, manipulation, infidelity, oc thinks jk is made of stars :(, jk thinks she is so pretty :(, misunderstandings, some fluff if you squint, brunette jk, blonde jk, n blue jk,  1 mentions of: howls moving castle, too many mentions of: stars, the color pink
>>notes: bruv i do not have anything to say for myself EXCPET that i worked v hard on her and i really hope u like it <3 beta: @birbdae​ tysm for dealing with this, she is long lmao >>> soundtrack
this is split up by seasons, so if 40k is a lot for one sitting, you can read one season at a time if that is easier :)
>>summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.
 Souls are stars. Half of a star to be exact. Clearly this means your soulmate, or whatever shares the other half. 
 When you die, your body becomes the earth. The trees, the flowers, the grass. Dirt. And your soul becomes stardust that ascends back to its rightful place in the night sky until the other half of your star meets you there. 
 And there you stay until it’s your time to live again. You’re then a falling star. Shooting, flying, breaking apart as you soar across the sky. Pieces of you and them scattered who knows where, some pieces falling longer than others, some finding their place on the earth immediately. Until the universe decides to bring you back to one another. Born again. Together again. If you’re lucky enough to meet in this lifetime. But if not in this one, then perhaps the next. Or maybe you were together in the one before. Maybe it’s guaranteed. Once a lover, always a lover. In this life and in the next. 
 Who knows? You sure as hell don’t. 
 It doesn’t make sense. The way you think about the stars and the people around you. You know that. It’s not like you live by it or anything. You don’t even like space. Know that realistically stars are just gas and that when they fall from the sky they are dying, not reincarnating. They smash into the ground and then. Poof. Gone forever, nothing but a black hole left behind. You also know that soulmates are a fairytale at best and a beautifully spun cruel web of lies at worst. 
 But being a part of a star and having a… person sounds a lot better to you than eternal damnation or a forever of nothing but void darkness. 
 “Iced Hazelnut macchiato sub oat milk for __!”
 Blushing Brews is hectic but the barista is a smiling little caffeine fairy granting your wish for energy in the form of a small plastic cup. You smile as you take the drink from him. His smile is blinding, it hurts to look at him directly.
 You think that maybe not everyone is part of a star and that maybe some are just random, pointless space rocks that fall to earth. But not the barista. He’s definitely part star.
 “Thanks,” you say.
 You shuffle through the people waiting for their drinks and take a seat at your usual table. The whole coffee shop is quaint and cute, the chairs vintage and upholstered in different shades of velvet fabric. The tables have dried flowers and flakes of gold encapsulated in them. Your table is a little to the left next to the large window, with the order station still in view. You get to people watch the folks outside and person watch the one inside, only one soul able to hold your attention indoors. Aside from the friends sat with you at your table of course. You stir your drink.
 “I bet his cum tastes like the oat milk he puts in my coffee.” You stare at the barista behind the counter, innocently just doing his job, oblivious to the way he glows so bright. “Thick and creamy... kinda sweet...” 
 “You are so-” Taehyung starts. 
 “Disgusting. She’s disgusting,” Yoongi finishes for him. If the barista is a star, Yoongi is a space rock.
 You raise your eyebrows, contemplative. He’s not wrong. Dirty, nasty, disgusting. You’re all of the above. But you’re also a hopeless romantic. Forever in love with the idea of love and all the different parts of it. Always looking at every aspect of life, through rose-tinted glasses. If you wanted to idealize the barista’s sperm, you would. Who was Min Yoongi to stop you? You take a sip of the coffee the barista prepared for you. “You know he never charges me extra for it, even though he’s supposed to.”
 “He should. Considering he could probably get in trouble and also how you objectify him.” Yoongi grimaces as he downs his black espresso.  
 “I don’t objectify him, I romanticize him. I simply observe him and speak everything that goes on in my pretty little head.” Both of your friends give you a flat stare. “Okay, it’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He may not know the extent of his charm, but you know he knows he’s charming. “He has a whole sleeve and wears massive stompers to crush hearts. What’s he doing working in a coffee shop?”
 “His job?”
 “No. He’s trying to subtly leave an impression on unsuspecting creative writing majors that never had a strong male figure in their life, just so he can further ingrain in their head that while he is breathtaking, and makes an incredible iced hazelnut macchiato sub oat milk, he will surely leave just like everyone else, only to become a distant pink memory that they can’t forget, no matter how hard they try and how insignificant.”
 “He doesn’t even know your name,” Taehyung says, with a roll of his eyes.
 “How can you go from talking about his nut to calling him breathtaking and pink?” Yoongi pulls his laptop out, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.
 “Of course he knows my name. Also. You know what else I bet is pink? His big fat-”
 “Shut up.”
 You hum, swiftly transitioning. “I’m multifaceted and the definition of dichotomy.” Out comes your notebook. You could at least look like you’re being productive. “I only handwrite poetry and I pull over when I see a field of flowers and I think we are all made of stars, but I also like getting railed and degraded, as well as emotionally demeaned,” You pause, thinking for just a moment, “Though that’s more for my art than anything. Duality.”
 “You’re something, that’s for sure. Don’t look now but barista baby is walking this way.”
 Barista baby. A pastel feeling starts to creep its way over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and a blush in its wake. You glance in the direction of the counter and sure enough, during a lull in traffic he’s out from behind the counter and he looks like he’s coming directly for you. His big black pants that are decorated with a chain jingle as he takes heavy steps with boot-clad feet. Maybe you’re dramatic but you think you can see a trail of stardust behind him. You look away. Too bright.
 “Hey, can I clear these cups for you?” he asks, reaching for Yoongi’s empty one, and Taehyung’s mostly full one. His voice is deep and as soft as the velvet you’re sitting on. He pauses when he feels the weight of Taehyung’s cup. “Oh sorry about that.” He sets it back down.
 “Take it, he doesn’t even like coffee, he just gets it for the aesthetic. He’s an art major.” You roll your eyes, sipping your drink.
 “Why do you add my major at the end of every insult?” Taehyung groans at you before turning to the barista. “Do you even know her name?”
 “Taehyung!” you gasp. Yoongi’s laughing quietly next to you, typing away.
 The barista looks between you and your friend hesitantly before saying. “Of course I do, it’s __. She comes in here like at least 3 times a week.”
 Taehyung sniffs and you beam.
 “Do you know my name?” the barista quizzes.
 Your eyes flicker from his face down to the little chalkboard name tag attached to the mauve apron that he’s wearing over his short sleeve black shirt. ‘JK ♥’ is written in pink chalk. Cute.
 “Yeah it’s JK,” you say, leaning forward on the table, giving him your full attention.
 He smirks. “Don’t let my manager hear that. It’s actually Jeongguk.”
 “Well, Jeongguk, you would not believe what __ had to say about the oat milk you guys have here. She said-” Taehyung starts.
 “I said,” you cut him off shooting him daggers, “That it’s super thick and creamy, really yummy.”
 “Speaking of oat milk,” Jeongguk says unfazed, “You literally break my heart every time you stir that drink.” He leans forward bracing his hands on the table, kinda crowding your space, and nods his head in the direction of your half-empty, light brown coffee.
 ‘You literally break my heart every time you look at me.’ You think. You slow blink at him. “Why is that?”
 “It’s supposed to be consumed in layers.” His eyes are twinkling, and his smile is just a little crooked.
 You hum, thoughtfully. “Would it make you happy if I consumed it in layers?” You look up at him through your eyelashes. He’s trying to suppress a smile, his shoulders shaking lightly with poorly concealed laughter.
 Taehyung fights back a gag as he chokes on the tension radiating off of you and Jeongguk. Quickly he raises to his feet, and snatches Yoongi’s laptop right from his hands, tucking it underneath his arm before he’s pulling the older boy out of his seat. 
 “Yoongi I just remembered that we need to finish that project-“
 “Tae you’re an art major, and I’m an engineering major. Our classes are in completely different buildings. There’s actually no plausible way for that to be believable and I would literally never pick you as my partner. One because you…” They fade out as they get closer to the door, making their exit.
 Jeongguk glances at the newly free seat before peeking at the counter. Still no queue. He takes it upon himself to sit. He places his chin on his hands, tattoos and rings on full display. “Yeah. It would.” He states plainly.
 You shift in your seat. It’s so hard to look at a star close up. You squint. “What if that made me not happy?” It truly would ruin your day. Why would you drink straight oat milk, and then straight espresso when you could mix it and enjoy both flavors at once?
 He searches your features before cocking his head to the side, a tiny closed-lip smile on his face. “What would make you happy then?”
 Your heartbeat is fast and heavy and you can hear it in your ears, everything else subdued and muted. You bring a well-manicured hand down trace at one of the blossoms in the table. You can’t look at him anymore, not when you say it. With faux confidence you speak, “You could take me out.” 
 You see him tense in your peripheral. You’re still tracing the flower, breath stuck in your throat. 
 “No,” he says. Your hand jerks, ruining the perfect petals you’ve been outlining. You recover quickly, clearing your throat.
 “You could take me out.”
 Your head whips up. Eyes wide and doe-like before you get your composure. You scoff. “What’s the difference? Also, why haven’t you talked to me before?”
 He looks like he’s thinking, a brief flicker of something flashes in his eyes, gone too fast for you to place it. He looks like he’s settling when he says, “I like to be pursued.” 
 A smile slowly graces your lips. You nod. “Fair enough.”
 He brings his hand down and brushes his pinky against your finger that was tracing the flower. It’s weird how your whole body burns hot and ignites from such a small touch. “I gotta go,” he says, tone soft and hazy and baby pink. 
 You glance towards the door just as a couple walks in. You purse your lips and make a soft agreeing noise.
 Jeongguk raises from his seat, smoothing out his apron. He’s walking away when you speak up.
 “Why don’t you ever charge me for the oat milk?”
 He glances back at you, a radiant star-filled smile on his face. “To make you happy.”
 A small rush of air pushes past your lips as you watch him walk away. You wonder if anyone has ever been successful when pursuing a star. 
 You do your best to get to work, though your eyes keep flickering to the counter. Jeongguk catches you just once or twice. Each time he smiles and looks away, focusing once again on the orders he’s being given. 
 The couple that interrupted your and Jeongguk’s conversation ends up sitting a few tables away. Not close enough for you to hear, but close enough for you to watch. Ever the daydreamer, you wonder what they are saying. What should we get for lunch? Did you call your mom like you said you would? Do you want to stay the night? Are you the other half of my star?
 The girl is offering the boy a sip of her drink, his hand coming up to cover hers as he guides it to his mouth. She smiles big, eyes half crescents, when he nods in approval, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek, grinning into it. They settle into a conversation, hands moving, heads shaking.
 You close your notebook and head to campus. Jeongguk doesn’t notice you’ve left until a few hours later.
 “Fancy seeing you here!”
 You jump, almost knocking over your coffee and glance next to you to see the beautiful boy who scared you. 
 Jeongguk is fresh-faced with his eyes brighter than ever, and he smells like freshly ground coffee beans. The expensive imported kind. From Colombia or something. Maybe Paris. You think a pretty boy like Jeongguk would look good in Paris. Anywhere beautiful really. A beautiful boy in a beautiful place. It just makes sense. He’s still got his apron on and his hair is tied up today, little flyaways framing his face like a halo. 
 “Is it really?” you ask, trying to sound bored. Trying to quiet the butterflies in your tummy. 
 You’ve got your laptop with you. No distractions in the form of pointless scribbles or poorly written couplets about boys with coffee eyes and kisses that probably taste like coffee to match, today! You’ve got a Humanities paper due in about 8 hours.
 “I guess not, considering you’re here literally all the time.” He grins and scoots closer. “What are you doing?”
 “I have a paper due later, so I’m just finishing that up.” You ignore the scoff he makes when he sees you’ve barely got half a page written.
 Jeongguk reaches to his other side and offers up a new coffee, figuring yours would be watered down by now. Considering you’ve been here since opening. It's particularly quiet for a Friday, but the lull in business is always welcome. Jeongguk glances to the counter at the storefront, only to find that Jimin’s staring and when he catches Jeongguk’s eye, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Jeongguk smiles a tiny grin, but other than that, the other barista is swiftly ignored.
 You take the coffee with a small ‘Thank you.’ and then hold his gaze as you deliberately stir it, mixing the carefully poured layers. You smile when Jeongguk’s eye twitches.
 “Very unhappy right now.”
 You sip away.
 “What’s your major?”
 “Creative writing. Do you go to school? I haven’t seen you around campus.” You make sure to save what you have so far, just in case you get even more distracted and forget to do so later. 
 He shakes his head, pretty earring twinkling in the window light. “I would hate to be stuck somewhere for 4 years, and then not even be guaranteed a job after all that debt I would be in.” He pauses and then chuckles at how gloomy he sounds. “I do apprentice at a tattoo shop every now and again. Your major makes sense though. Seems fitting.”
 You tuck the tattoo apprenticeship information away, saving it for a later conversation. “How do you know what fits me?” 
 His expression is sly. “I know more about you than you think. I hear the way you talk about things, and see how you look at them. Plus you’ve always got your nose in your notebook. Do you want to be an author?”
 You scoff and roll your eyes, a trace of bitterness seeping through and tainting your expression. “We all want to be authors.” You unfold and refold the napkin in your hand, before tossing it to the side. “I’m going to be an editor, or a journalist, or... something.”
 “Don’t worry you have time to think about it.”
 You give him a sideways glance. “I mean- not really, I graduate at the end of the spring semester.”
 He regards you with curious eyes for a second. He looks like he’s trying to figure you out. His eyebrows furrow like he comes up empty with no explanation for what he is wondering. So with a faint confused smile, he asks, “Why do you live like that?”
 You place the coffee you were about to sip back down, caught off guard a little by his genuinely inquisitive and soft tone. “Like what? With long term goals?”
 He laughs, loud. It’s brash and startling in the quiet coffee shop. He throws his head back and his eyes crinkle. Some people turn to look at you both. You don’t care. “I mean that’s one way of saying it. But what I mean is like- what if you change your mind? Or like I don’t know… get bored?”
 You pause. It’s a loaded, scary question. You wonder if the jobs you listed would really be enough to satisfy someone like you. Someone who’s always thinking about things in a way that makes them seem better than they are. Someone who sees things in extremes and thinks stars are inside of people. Someone who has a constant feeling inside that always wants more. You wonder if you actually will get bored. What you’d do if you did. You don’t want to think about it anymore, so you don’t. Instead, simply stating, “I love writing. I won’t change my mind about that, and as long as I’m doing something that has to do with it, then I’ll be fine.” You think you’re telling the truth, mostly at least.
 He makes a soft noise of understanding, but you’re not sure if he actually does.
 “I guess if I had something I loved like you love writing then I would see things differently. I just don’t love anything that much. Nothing but my freedom. And it seems like everything tries to take that away eventually.”
 Your breath catches and you think something cracks inside of you. Can you ever truly contain a star? Or is it the tighter you hold it, the more likely it is to explode? A supernova waiting to happen?
 Before you can respond he speaks up again. “But hey, listen. We should, like, hang out.”
 “Oh? I thought you wanted me to take you out?” You jest.
 He rolls his eyes, fighting a smile. “You’re still going to.” 
 The thing about being a hopeless romantic is that you think about life in could be’s. You could be his, he could be yours. You paint a picture of potential in your head, all different shades of pink and red and doused in stardust. 
 You’re levelheaded and sane in most areas of your life, can understand the consequences of moving too fast, not taking the time to think, and not seeing things for what they truly are. But when it comes to things that have to do with liking, with loving, with wanting… You’re brash and eager. You cling to idealizations and dream of scenarios. It makes you infatuated quick, attached even quicker. It’s not a bad thing really. You just fall fast and love easily. You’re good at hiding it, but that sweet pink feeling? It’s always there, just simmering under the surface. 
 The party is loud and so is your beating heart. Thump, thump, thump. The room has an almost opaque hazy feeling to it, smoke lingering in the air from whatever everyone is smoking. You take a sip from your red plastic cup, grimace, then drink some more. You don’t drink that often, but it's nice. Once you can’t taste or feel the burn of it anymore. Once it makes you float a little. People are bumping into you, as you leave the kitchen. You just refilled your drink. Vodka and some juice this time. 
 He’s running towards you at the speed of light. At least it seems like it. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s because he’s just fast. Maybe it’s just because you've got a crush. He doesn’t need to run, you’ll still be there. He’s stopped by people here and there, ugly moths flocking to a bright flame. He flutters away with soft dismissive smiles, a few ‘Hey I’ll catch you later, okay?’s. It makes you feel fuzzy.
 “You made it!” He’s beaming, and he’s not out of breath but his chest is moving a little faster than normal. You can see his muscles through the thin fabric of the t-shirt he’s wearing. You stare. He crowds your space, comes close enough for your hand that’s holding your drink to bump into his tummy. Very firm, very strong tummy. He’s so warm, kinda sweaty from all the excess body heat in the room. Or maybe he was dancing. You wanna watch. See how he moves. You take another drink, grazing his stomach as you bring your arm back down.
 “You came,” He says again. He’s talking to the top of your head, mostly, your eyes still distracted. His hand comes up to grip at the elbow of your bent arm, just resting there. Just touching.
 At last, look up at him, and you have to consciously take a breath. He’s glowing so bright in the hazy, smoky room, surely he doesn’t belong here. At the party. On Earth. He’s wearing a wide neck tee, it shows off the length of his collarbones. They are pretty, strong. But you don’t linger.  And you ignore the fresh blossoms of sore red skin that are already there. Just peeking out. You showed up late. Jeongguk doesn’t seem like the type to wait. Not that he was waiting for you. Maybe he was. You hope he was. Even if he found things to keep him occupied while doing so.
 “Yeah, I came.” You look at him over the lip of your cup. You’re almost there, almost floating.
 He doesn’t say anything when he takes the cup from your hand, holding it from the top, taking a sip of his own. He doesn’t grimace. Maybe he’s already used to the taste. You’d say something but the drinks make you a little sluggish, your quick-wit slowed down. You’re not drunk, far from it, you’re just feeling... nice. He takes your hand, drags you through the crowd of people. That feels nice too. His hand is big and warm, kinda rough yet baby soft at the same time. You’ve always loved contradictions. He’s pulling you to the living room. There’s a ratty couch in the corner with your name on it. Probably spelled in a variety of questionable fluids.
 “My friends-” you say realizing you lost Taehyung and Yoongi.
 “They’ll find you, don’t worry. The house isn’t that big.” It’s kind of hard to hear him. You lean closer.
 To your surprise, Yoongi and Taehyung are actually already there, making quick friends with the other barista from Blushing Brews. Jimin, you remember Jeongguk mentioning him here and there. A few other people are around too, some you vaguely recognize from campus or just around, some you’ve never seen before. There’s not that much room on the couch.
 You glance up at Jeongguk, but he doesn’t seem bothered, easily finding a place for himself. He’s still got your hand, so you’re dragged with him, settling half on his lap half on the cushion. You’re kind of sideways, back against the arm of the couch, side pressed against him, legs over his lap. His hand is on your mid-thigh, fingers on the inner seam of your jeans. He’s not doing anything but it feels good. He’s got his other arm around the armrest of the sofa, around you. It’s a little too hot to be sitting so close, but you don’t say anything and neither does he.
 The conversation around you is hectic, bouncing from topic to topic. You’re content just sitting and listening, casually just nursing your drink. Taehyung’s going on about the latest piece for his portfolio and how he got accepted to be part of the university’s winter showcase which was kinda of a big deal, and a guy named Namjoon is talking about the wonders of botany, and the medicinal benefits of plants. There’s a couple of girls around too, you smile whenever you accidentally make eye contact with them while people watching. They smile back, eyes flitting curiously between you and Jeongguk. He squeezes your thigh. You press them together, subconsciously, mostly a natural reaction.
 “Hey,” He says quietly, so only you hear.
 You turn your head to look at him, instead of the people around you. You make a surprised noise when you see how close you are, noses almost touching, him already looking at you. You question him with a look.
 He doesn’t need to, your proximity already near, but he presses his lips against your hair, right next to your ear, his cheek brushing yours. “Are you comfy?” You feel him smile more than see it. 
 You wiggle your toes in your sneakers, press your side a little closer to his chest. “Mhmm.” You glance down when you feel his fingers start to trace the seam of your pants, no longer just squeezing and holding. You honestly can’t help it if you spread your legs just a bit wider in response. You think you feel his breath hitch, before you definitely feel his hand settle high on your inner thigh. It’s nothing scandalous, but it’s something. Makes that sickly sweet feeling boil in your belly.
 “You look pretty.” There’s a lazy grin on his face, he’s looking at you with so much contentment that it makes you squirm. You wonder if he’s high. His hand on your thigh tightens. You ask him if he is.
 He giggles, cute and quiet before pressing his face into your shoulder like he’s embarrassed. “No, I was but not anymore.” When he looks at you again, his cheeks are tinted pink. He looks pretty too. You tell him.
 He rolls his eyes, and looks like he’s about to argue. But the bubble you both were protected in is popped by Jimin’s loud voice, mentioning his name.
 “Don’t let Jeongguk hear you say that. He’s the most cynical person I know. Will crush the little daydream in your head so quick.”
 Jeongguk laughs, before chiming in, “Who’s day do I need to ruin?”
 One of the guys you don’t know speaks up. He’s got broad shoulders and plump lips. “Hyeon, over here thinks she’s found her soulmate in the form of her Mathematics professor.” He rolls his eyes like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. 
 You look at the girl and she’s laughing light heartedly, not taking the jabs too seriously. You catch Yoongi’s eye, and he’s already looking at you, eyes bubbling with soft concern, like he knows where this conversation is going to go. 
 Jeongguk adjusts you on his lap, not much, just enough so he can sit up some more and be fully attentive. He keeps his hands all over you. You don’t miss the way almost everyone’s eyes are on you, nosy and full of questions.
 “Hyeon, let me ask you this. Let’s say on the incredibly off chance soulmates do exist, why the fuck would he be in your hometown, that you literally have never left? There’s 7 billion people in the world and you think you met your ‘one true love’ at your University?” he even uses air-quotes. 
 Hyeon sniffs, and turns her nose up. “I think it’s fate that-“
 Jeongguk interrupts her with an obnoxious buzzer noise. “EH. Wrong. Please Hyeon. Believing in that shit is just setting yourself up for disappointment.” He shakes his head, exasperated, before he settles back into the couch. His fingers start tickling your inner thigh again.
 Everyone’s kinda chuckling, even Taehyung when he asks, “Damn man… Who the fuck hurt you?”
 Everyone really chuckles at that. Except Jeongguk. He shrugs trying to come off unbothered. Calm, cool, and collected. Like he didn’t just passionately crush a girl’s hopes of finding the one. Although you will admit, falling for your university teacher probably wasn’t the best path to follow on the quest for finding your person. 
 “No one,” Jeongguk says, “I just think it’s stupid.”
 Jimin cackles, high pitched and teasing. “Yeah okay. Don’t listen to him. He got his heart broke a few years ago and hasn’t been the same since.”
 Jeongguk laughs like he’s over it. You wonder if he is. “Shut the fuck up Jimin.” His eyes still have starshine in them when he turns his attention back to you. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Do you want one?”
 You shake your head, giving him a small smile. He squeezes your thigh before he goes, leaving with a quiet, “Stay here okay? I’ll be right back.” 
 Taehyung’s quick to take his place, plopping your legs in his lap like Jeongguk had. “You okay?”
 He says it lightly like he’s trying to not make it a big deal. And it’s not. Not really. Sure you thought of a few could be’s and wished on a few stars. But you know he’s right in some ways. It’s a good thing you don’t really believe in soulmates either. Not really. You believe in people and in stars. In could be’s.
 “Yeah I’m good.” You say back quiet. “I don’t believe in them either. Not seriously.” You try to laugh off his incredulous look. 
 “Are you really? I saw you writing about him, and you’ve been like extra daydreamy lately.”
 You roll your eyes. “First of all, don’t snoop. Second of all, it’s just a crush.” You shrug.
 He looks at you a little sadly. “We both know you don’t have ‘just crushes’.”
 “Actually, I do, now. So please drop it, and go flirt with Jimin some more. I’m going to the bathroom.” You swing your legs off him and wander around for a little bit. You didn’t really have to pee that bad to begin with.
 During your house roaming escapades, you accidentally walked in on a few people, and never actually found the bathroom you were supposed to be in. Now you’re in a hallway, looking at an elaborate family photo wall. Turns out you have no clue whose house this is, despite Jeongguk mentioning the guy went to your university.
 There’s old photos of a couple that turn to marriage photos of a couple. The couple posed in front of a house. Then there’s baby photos, turned into school photos. Color coordinated christmas cards. You squint. You know pictures don’t really tell you much,  but they look happy. With their picturesque life. You wonder if the parents share a star. 
 You jump and let out a squeak when you feel a hand grab the bend of your elbow and spin you around. 
 “There you are,” Jeongguk sing-songs, trying to not laugh at the noise you made. “I was looking for you.”
 You lean against the opposite wall of the pictures. He crowds your space. He smells good. You don’t know how you didn’t notice when you were on the couch with him. Maybe it was the smoke floating around. It’s a little easier to breathe here, in the random hallway you found. Or at least it was till he showed up. 
 “You found me.” You sing back. He smiles, almost shyly. But his eyes drop to your lips and then back up.
 “What were you doing?” He asks. He moves to lean against the wall next to you, trying to get a look at what you were distracted by when he found you.
 “Just being nosy.” You hum. “Did you get your drink?” 
 He looks down at his empty hands, and then leans his head back on the wall, laughing softly to himself. A little drop of sweat rolls down his extended neck. You swallow. It’s still early to mid fall. The weather is still hot enough. Plus all the bodies in the house. Plus he’s a star, always burning so bright. Must be tiring. Sweat inducing.
 “I think I forgot it when I went looking for you.” He rolls his head to the side to look at you, and he’s got that lazy grin on his face again. 
 “Wanna go get it?” You ask, already pushing yourself off the wall.
 He’s quick when he stops you, hand on your shoulder gently guiding you back. He’s in front of you again, closer this time. Hotter.
 “No, no. It’s okay. We’re- good here. This is good.” His eyes keep flickering to your lips. It’s making you squirm, something starts to stir in your belly. You shift under his gaze.
 “Do you do this with all of your friends?” Your voice is softer now, the casual atmosphere you both were just in, long gone. The tension is tangible now and you’re too scared to speak up, afraid you might break if you do. 
 He hums, angling his body even closer to you. Your back is against the wall now, and the sounds of the party around you are muffled. One of his arms comes up, bracing his forearm by your head bracketing you in on one side. His other hand comes up to toy with the bottom of your shirt. “Do what with them?” His voice is just as soft. 
 You swallow. “Look at them like you’re gonna kiss them.”
 His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, eyes dropping to your lips again. He licks his own, and now they’re wet. The light hits them just right to make them shine. What do stars taste like? He drags his gaze back up deliberately slow. “Yeah. I kiss all my friends.” It’s said on an exhale as he leans closer to you. His lips graze your ear. “Don’t you?”
 You let out a trembling breath, shaking your head. A warning signal goes off in your brain, red-lights flashing. That’s a red flag, you’re sure of it. But for some reason, in your mind, the lights, the flag… they look pink, almost enticing instead of worrisome. The blaring warning alarms slow and blur into a melodious siren song.
 He’s shifting closer again. The heat from his body is scalding. Part of you wishes you could move back, most of you wants to press into it. Get burned just a little. “You don’t?” he asks. There’s a little bit of a teasing lilt to his voice, you can hear the smile. “Why’s that?” The hand by your head plays with a small piece of your long hair, twirling it around his fingers. You get a glimpse of his tattoos. Pretty.
 You struggle to find something to say. You don’t want to say you only kiss your boyfriends, you don’t want to scare him. Because you want this, you do. You just- “I- I only kiss special friends.” -want it to mean something. 
 It rushes past your lips and you’re not able to stop it. Not able to really think about what you’re saying. Not able to think about what you’re implying, what you’re agreeing to. You feel his grip on your hip tighten a little, and his body pushes towards you, just grazing yours. He’s not hard yet but he’s excited. Cock a little thicker and heavier and pushing out just a little more than normal. Your eyes squeeze shut and you try not to whimper. 
 He nuzzles against your temple. “That’s good, we can be special friends. I like that.” 
 He’s leaning in and you’re about to ask him if he means it, the thing he said about liking it, but the tension is shattered and the fragile atmosphere is ruined. 
 “Gguk! You better leave that poor girl alone!”
 It’s said by Jimin, it’s always him it seems. He’s drunk and hauled over Taehyung’s shoulder, just passing by the hallway you’re in on their way to presumably the bedrooms. There’s a few people laughing and following them, waiting for a show and consequently, some filter into your secret hallway and take it upon themselves to make it their space as well.
 Jeongguk sighs, forehead resting against yours. “I gotta go make sure he wraps it.” He sounds annoyed but amused. “He’s had chlamydia one too many times. Insurance won’t cover his clinic costs anymore.”
 You snort. “Please tell me you’re joking.” You tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Actions bold for the fragile feeling floating around you both. His eyes track the movement and you don’t miss how he tenses before your arm falls back to your side. 
 “Yeah I am, but I should still go make sure he’s being safe.” 
 You nod. “You’re a good friend, Jeongguk.”
 He rolls his eyes, playful when he squeezes your hip. “Don’t forget you still have to take me out.” 
 “I won’t.”
 His smile matches your own. “I’ll see you?”
 You nod again, as he turns to jog in the direction that Jimin and Taehyung went. You wish he looked back. Oh well.
 Early to mid-fall bleeds into late autumn.Still warm during the day like a soft summer’s kiss, just a little chilly during nightfall like the last words of a past lover. You and Jeongguk haven’t talked about the party. And he hasn’t tried to kiss you since. Things are different though. Soft touches here and there, more frequent than before. Even softer, stilted flirting ensued during the following weeks. He wasn’t acting shy, never that. 
 But it’s like he was waiting for you. Waiting to be pursued. You guess. It’s clear he wants more, but it's almost like he doesn’t want to be the one to push for it. Give in to it. You don’t really know. You also don’t think too much about it. Don’t think a lot about anything other than him, and the next time you’ll see him, next moment you’ll get to spend time with him. Usually, you don’t have to wait too long. He spends most of his breaks with you at the coffee shop, now. It’s a sweet thing he does, just like how he’s been putting that extra pump of sweetener into your drink lately.
 Today, however, you are not at Blushing Brews, you’re at the fair. Large rides and crooked games line the surrounding area of the boardwalk, sounds of people screaming and laughing fill the air. It smells like heart disease and the salty ocean. It’s not too crowded, it’s been open for a while, you came on one of the last days it was in town. 
 “This is me taking you out by the way,” you say around a spoonful of frozen cherry limeade.
 Jeongguk hums as he leans down, wanting a taste. You want to taste too, just not of his frozen lemonade. You scoop a heaping amount. Maybe he’ll get a brain freeze. 
 “You don’t say?” He smiles before wincing, mouth forming a small ‘o’. He’s blowing out like he’s trying to warm the inside of his mouth. You smile, spoon between your teeth. 
 “Tasty?” you ask, trying to stifle a laugh.
 “Cold.” he responds, still trying to melt the icy slush in his mouth. He offers you a bite of his.
 “Too sour,” you decline. “I only like sweet things.” 
 The wind is blowing, the breeze is pleasant after running around the fair all day. Hours have gone by, playing games that you both know are rigged, bartering with the worker until you’re giving up and buying the prize you want anyway, a medium sized Hello Kitty plush with a pink bow. Riding rides that are terrifying simply because they get taken apart and put back together, time and time again. Eating way too many fried foods and drinking far more sugary drinks than is healthy. But neither you or Jeongguk have mentioned wanting to leave.  
 You walk the boardwalk and take a seat at the ledge of the pier and Jeongguk’s close by following suit. Feet are dangling off the edge, and a soft mist of salty water tickles your ankles. It’s night time now. The stars are bright in their home. You lean back and brace yourself on your extended arms, palms on the wooden pier.
 “You know that stuff you said at the party? About soulmates?” You’re not looking at him, eyes up towards the sky. You can feel him gazing at your profile though. It burns a little. Everything about him is hot. Not unbearably so. Kinda like when you turn the shower on as hot as it can go. Scalding, but good.
 “About all of it being bullshit?” he laughs to himself. “Yeah I remember. I’ll say it again too.” He knocks your extended elbow causing it to buckle, playful and cheery like he always is. How can being around him be such a contradiction? Light-hearted yet suffocating. Doesn’t matter really. Not like you’re going to stop. Not until he tells you to. You scowl at him before righting yourself.
 You’re quiet for a moment, long enough for Jeongguk to follow your gaze and glance at the navy blanket above you both. “I believe it,” you state.
 He’s looking at you again. You look at him as well, face impassive. “You do?” he asks. He doesn't really sound surprised. Why would he be? What writer doesn’t believe in something as far fetched as reciprocated love?
 You shrug lightly. “Maybe not like soulmates. But I think we have like… a person that we could spend a really long time with. Forever even. Maybe longer if we’re lucky.” He doesn’t say anything so you continue. “I also think we are all part of the stars. And we share a star with our person.”
 Jeongguk’s confused to say the least but he goes with it. You live in a constant daydream, and he knew you had your head in the clouds when he first met you, decided that he wanted you. “If we’re stars, how do we get to earth?”
 “We fall. Falling stars,” you explain. He makes a soft sound of acknowledgement.
 You both fall silent, the distant sound of laughter and the rolling waves the only thing letting you know the world hasn’t fallen mute. The reflection on the moon dances on the ripples of the ocean.
 “How did you… come to this conclusion?”
 Again you shrug. You lay back on the salty, sandy wood of the dock. “I don’t know really. I just like the sound of it. The idea.” You give a half suppressed laugh, feeling kinda silly. He lays down next to you, attention fully taken by the stars. 
 You don’t know why. He sees himself everyday.
 “So you really have no idea?”
 “I mean…” you start. Think a short moment. “We really don’t have any idea about anything we can’t physically see. Right? Like we have no idea if heaven’s real or not because we can’t see it. Hell too. I don’t even know if Australia is a real place.”
 Jeongguk chuckles. “Of course it’s real.”
 “How do you know? Have you been? Have you seen the alleged opera house? A kangaroo even?” You raise your eyebrows challenging him.
 He’s shaking his head like he can’t believe you. He’s smiling though. Always shining. “I’ve seen pictures. And other people have been.”
 “And you just believe them? People say they have been to heaven, there’s pictures of angels.”
 A staring contest ensues before he’s rolling his eyes, giving up. He waves a lazy, bony hand. Wrist limp, as he gestures for you to just get on with it. 
 A smug grin graces your lips. “It’s the same with soulmates. People think they are real, claim to have met theirs on some off chance. But, that’s all subjective hearsay.” You kick your feet, still dangling, just tempting the ocean to drag you in. Maybe a shark will get you. Maybe a sea spirit. “But… the stars? They are right there. People? Literally everywhere. You? You’re right next to me. I can see all of it. I know it’s all there, and real. There’s a connection. It means something I think.”
 He hums a few times like he’s processing something, trying to figure out how to word the thoughts running around in his mind. He takes a deep breath. “Stars are really big you know. Don’t you think it's… I don’t know, like suffocating for the star to confine them to being someone’s soulmate?”
 “Not soulmate.”
 “You know what I mean.”
 Head shaking, you deny what he says. “No, I don’t think it’s confining or suffocating. Being important to someone is so special; precious. A big deal for them.” You nod towards the sky.
 When he whispers, it’s said so quietly you almost miss it, “What if the star doesn’t want that?”
 His words hurt for some reason. It’s stupid, and you can’t explain it, but the ache is piercing, like a sweet tooth left untreated for too long, slowly decaying, sharp stabs of pain throbbing.
 “Don’t you think the stars get lonely?” You murmur back. 
 He swallows audibly, and you hear him let out a breath that trembles just a hint too much to be considered normal. Jeongguk rolls to his side so he’s facing you, he has a dopey smile on his face, just a little bit crooked and uneven. It looks forced, but you let him have it. “Well… which star am I then? If we all are made of stardust.” He’s trying to tease. Trying to breathe.
 You look at him with a light blush on your cheeks. The multicolored fair lights are glowing over his face, rapidly changing color. It’s like you’re looking at him through a kaleidoscope. It’s dizzying. That’s not why your stomach is doing flips though. You roll over to your side, body to body. Only a few inches in between you both. 
 “You’d be the north star, I think.”
 He hums, closes his eyes so his lashes kiss the apple of his cheek, a soft expression taking over his features. They're still shut when he ponders, “Why would I be that one?”
 You don’t have to think about it. “Because it's the brightest star in the whole sky.” 
 His brows furrow before he opens his eyes, he looks confused. “Which one are you?”
 You shrug again. He keeps asking you questions you don’t know the answers to. You don’t even like space that much. Just the idea of it. You like the idea of a lot of things. 
 “I don’t know if I’m star material.” You laugh rolling onto your back again, looking up once more. The stars look so close, right next to each other, but in reality they are so far apart. You think about how you and Jeongguk are separated by just a few inches. A foot at most. Yet in this moment, it feels like you couldn’t reach him if you tried. “I’m probably like a space rock or something. So essentially the same. Just less luxurious. People don’t make wishes on me. Space rocks are pretty pointless and useless. Just look at Yoongi. He’s a space rock too.” You’re laughing as you say it. Jeongguk’s not.
 “I shouldn’t be that one,” he whispers. “And if someone like me gets to be a star, then you get to be one too.”
 A small smile is still on your face when you gaze at him again. “Someone like you?”
 He nods.
 You giggle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
 He regards you, eyes taking every inch of your face like he’s trying to memorize you. The freckle by your eye, the faintest scar near your lip. “I think you’ll find out, eventually.” He sounds off when he answers.
 Still, you don’t hesitate. “I hope so.”
 The room is big but you’re sitting close to him.
 “No! No! You’re like not that bad... honestly! If the whole creative writing thing doesn’t work out you could be an idol.” 
 You know the boy next to you is lying. You know he is because your voice keeps cracking. Going flat or sharp whenever you get a turn on the mic. Pfft. You never could have been an idol. But when you glance at him, your cheeks aren’t flushed with embarrassment. They are flushed because of how much you have been laughing, because of the pink fuzzy feeling bubbling in your chest. You’ll probably burst soon. Jeongguk’s eyes are gleaming, and his lips are pursed trying to hold back his smile. Maybe it’s better that way. You wouldn’t want to be blinded. His smile too bright and full of the stars. It’s been hard to look at him the last few months. 
 “You are such a liar!” You’re giggling as you playfully swat at his shoulder. 
 But your laughter quiets when you feel his big hand grip around your tiny wrist before you can land a hit. His long fingers overlapping where they meet at your bone. Your eyes flick between the connected skin and his face and that’s when it happens. The world starts to move slower around the sun, and your heart makes up for it by beating that much faster. You see his doe eyes dance between all your features paying special mind to your lips. The tension between you both is tangible and hot, burning. And it’s going to happen. After months, ages, of stilted flirting and wavering touches and poorly hidden desire. Jeongguk is going to kiss you. 
 Your lashes are fluttering, your eyes are closing, and you’re leaning forward to meet him halfway when you hear: 
 “Do you have any?”
 Your eyes open wide to see his mirroring yours, and your breath stutters out in quiet shock. Embarrassing. 
 “W-what?” You do your best to keep your voice steady, but you’re flustered. He’s so close and his eyes are so focused. There are stars in them too. 
 The grip on your wrist tightens a bit bringing your attention to your attached limbs. Yours still raised mid-strike, his raised in mid-defense. His eyes flick to his decorated forearm. Your brows furrow. 
 “Any tattoos?” You ask. 
 Jeongguk’s little pink tongue darts out to wet his lips before he nods and lets out a small affirmative noise. 
 You flex your hand in his hold and glance at the ink all over it. He has knuckle and hand tattoos, along with random other designs littering his skin. 
 You blush. “Yeah I have a tiny black cat on my ankle… It’s supposed to be the cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service?”
 You expected him to think it was silly, childish, but he smiles instead. “Jiji?”
 You grin back and nod.
 His lips purse together and his eyes peek at your lips again. “Did it hurt?” he muses.
 You laugh a little. A breathy, incredulous thing sneaking past your lips. “I mean you know for yourself. Your whole arm is covered.” You nod your head at his arm, and your fingers twitch in his grasp, like they want to touch, trace the dark lines on his comparatively fair skin. 
 The blush that falls on his cheeks is cute, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it, still feeling a bit childish and silly for letting your thoughts run away from you just a moment ago. Thinking he was going to finally kiss you. Tsk. Embarrassing. 
 “It hurt yeah,” he says chuckling to himself, “But Jiji is black right? So it must be dark? That hurts worse. Especially on the ankle.” his boot-clad foot nudges up against the ankle where he knows the piece is, brushing against it gently. He doesn’t take his eyes off your face. 
 You think about the fact that he knows which ankle you have tattooed, the way he knows what technique was used on it. How he knew it was a dark, filled in tattoo, not just an outline like it very well could have been, without even having to look away from you to peek at it and double check. You think about how he asked, just to ask, despite already knowing. You think about what that could mean. You think about how he must have been paying attention to you, taking in small details about you and filing them away without you even knowing or noticing. You think about how he maybe just wants to hear you talk sometimes. The gulp is audible when you swallow down the sweet, tingly feeling that’s crawling up your throat like bile. 
 It’s only you two in the noraebang room, the distant sound from the rooms surrounding is loud, loud enough for you to speak up. And yet your voice comes out as a soft whisper when you answer. He leans closer to hear you. “It hurt at first, when he went over it, you know? But after a while... I don’t know. It felt like warm? I kind of liked it. You know... the pain.”
 All the noises of the rooms next to you cease and it’s like your ears are filled with cotton candy clouds. All the sensitivity leaving them and migrating to your other senses making them heightened. You watch with clear eyes as Jeongguk’s pupils dilate. 
 “Do you think I liked it? When it hurt, when I got all mine done?” He asks. You can’t tell if he’s being quiet on purpose or if it’s still the baby pink clouds in your ears. 
 “You might have… I know a lot of people do, but I don’t know much about you Jeongguk.”  
 And maybe it’s coincidental. The way the kiss hurts. Feels slightly painful. Bruising and desperate. Or maybe it’s intentional. Either way, the tension between you and him comes to a head. The gasp that leaves your lips is loud and sharp, you don’t even kiss back at first because you’re so dumbstruck. Lovestruck. It’s only been a few months... Embarrassing.
  Embarrassing until it’s not. Embarrassing until you get yourself together enough and start to kiss back, hands sinking into his long hair, gripping a little too hard so you have something to tether you to this earth. Embarrassing until it’s wet and sloppy but slow and dreamy all at once. Until you feel his teeth dig into your bottom lip, his tongue following to soothe the little ache that he caused, maybe by accident, maybe on purpose because you told him you liked pain. It’s embarrassing until you can’t think about how embarrassing it is. 
 Until you can’t think straight at all because the only thing going on is your mind is: this is how it feels to kiss a fucking star. Not the rich kind of star that’s dressed in designer brands and weighed down by the heaviness of the world along with too many rings and watches and chains. Not the idol kind of star either, the kind that is so carefully crafted and manufactured that it’s kind of hard to see it as a star at all when it seems more like a doll. 
 Kissing Jeongguk is like kissing one of the stars in the sky, when they are in their rawest, purest form. The kind of star that people make wishes on when they are twinkling, when they are falling; dying. You’re dizzy and your eyes are squeezed shut so tight that little white dots are coming and going in the darkness and you think that maybe those are stars bursting right before your eyes. You hold onto the star in your hands a little tighter, kiss him just a little harder. 
 He winces from the force of your kiss and pulls away. Embarrassing. 
 When he looks at you his eyes are dark, and his chest is already heaving. 
 He licks his lips and his eyes go down to your lips, then back up almost as if asking for permission to continue. You give him the slightest nod, and that’s it. That’s all he needs.
 The noraebang seating is uncomfortable. Booth-like vinyl over barely padded benches, but you go easy as Jeongguk urges you to lay down, resting against the arm rest. His kisses are insistent and hot as he crawls over you, and settles between your open legs. 
 He’s such a good kisser. The type to cradle your face in his palms, the type to sneak his tongue inside after teasing the seam of your lips. The type to bite gently, make you whine into his mouth, and he just eats up every little noise you make and breath that you take. It feels good, even the sharp sting of his bites, even the way the armrest presses into your back when he puts his weight on you. The hand that pulls at your hair to expose your neck to him, feels good too. 
 He bites and sucks, little multicolored flowers blooming on your skin. He’s suffocating in the best way. The silence swimming around you is suffocating as well, just not in a good way. The lack of words make you feel antsy, the distant music of the neighboring booths sound muted and subdued, giving the illusion that you and Jeongguk are the only two in the world, in your own little bubble. It’s overwhelming. 
 “You’re a good kisser,” you gasp, just to break the quiet.
 You feel him smile into your neck, before he braces himself over you, looking at you smugly, yet charmingly. “You too.” he says softly. The way he rolls his hips into you, however, isn't soft at all. 
 He brings a hand down, and bunches up the material of your skirt so the only thing between you both are his layers, and your panties. You can feel him better now, can feel just how hard he is, how thick and long his cock is, rutting over your cunt. 
 You spread your legs as far as you can so that you are more open for him, his cock slipping just barely between your pussy lips over your panties, rubbing over your clit every time he grinds into you. He keeps his thrusts consistent and rough, his breath stuttering out labored and hot.
 You’re trying to keep quiet, but you can’t help the soft whines that slip past your lips. “Feels good, Koo,” you praise. 
 Your hands are gripping at his biceps, feeling the way that they flex and tremble from holding himself over you. He drops to his forearms and groans deep, burying his face in your neck. You can feel his hips start to move faster, more desperate. His breaths are puffing hot on your neck, going up in pitch at the end. He’s almost whining for you and your hips start to roll to meet his, your pussy needy and wet, craving the friction and drippy at the sound of his pleasure. His lips are alternating between biting and giving soft wet kisses.
 “Fuck, I’m not gonna last... I’m gonna cum-”Jeongguk grits out against your neck before lifting his body some to look down at your bodies where his clothed cock is grinding frantically against your panty covered pussy. 
 You can hear the desperation in his voice along with a hint of shame. 
 “That’s okay,” at the sound of your voice Jeongguk looks at you, one arm bending so he’s got his palm braced on one side of your head and his forearm on the other and you sigh out a soft pleasured sound. He looks so breathtaking. His starshine eyes are dark and wet, his fair skin is flushed and hot. There’s a bit of sweat at his hairline from how hard he’s working for his release. You wipe away a drop on his temple as you push his long hair out of his face. “You did good, you made me feel so good. Show me how good I make you feel. Please.” 
 You watch as pleasure overtakes him, the hard thrust of his hips becoming even more erratic and hectic. He’s nodding along with your praise like that’s what he needed to let go, whines and groans tumbling from his lips. He’s looking at you when his eyes start to flutter and his brows turn up in pleasure. His mouth falls open and he’s coming. Hot shots of white fill his pants and you can feel the warmth of it and the throb of his cock through the thin layers of clothes separating you.
 His head is hanging and his body is trembling with the after rush of his orgasm when he chuckles lightly. “That doesn’t normally happen. I swear.”
 You’re kind of just laying there, on the less than comfortable noraebang booth bench, with him still in between your legs. You laugh with him softly. “Been a while?” you ask.
 He shakes his head, still catching his breath and coming down, mind still a bit hazy. “No, no. You just- you’re so… different. You make me feel weird.”
 The laughter that had been floating between you slowly starts to quiet as you both seem to realize what he said at the same time. He looks at you, eyes simmering with panic, and yours look back searching and confused.
 It’s quick, the way he changes the subject, smothers you with his breath and distracts you with his soft kisses and even softer touches. Making your tongue too busy with his, to ask questions. Not that you would have asked. You play it off, threading your hands in his hair, kissing him deeply. The tiny little prickle of hurt you felt in your chest was completely forgotten as he kisses you back just as hard, like he wants to swallow you whole. 
 He brushes some hair out of your face and whispers against your lips, “I wanna make you cum.” The hand that isn’t playing with your hair is sliding down your body, before cupping over your pussy. Your panties are wet, sticking to you. You know he can feel it because he gasps, soft and small. “Fuck, please let me.” He rests his forehead on yours, and rubs at your clit over your panties. The gentle, teasing circles are the match that ignites the little flame of arousal that has been seething within your belly.
 You whisper, “What if someone comes in?”
 Your hips subtly rolling into his touch at their own accord, don’t do much to show him that you're actually worried.
 He breathes a laugh against you before placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, and then biting softly at the apple of it. “You know why people come here… so do the people who work here. No one’s gonna bother us.”
 He’s kissing your neck again, and his fingers are speeding up.
 “Is that why you brought me here?” you whisper, breath hitching on a whine.
 Jeongguk’s fingers stutter for a second before carrying on, and he looks at you with hazy lidded eyes. He has a sheepish smile on his face. “Not exactly. I wanted to hang out. But I may have been hoping for a little.” he says as he kisses you softly. “Been thinking about how you taste since that party.”
 You can’t help but moan. You’ve been thinking about it too. How it feels to be completely devastated by a star in the best, most blissful way. You manage to keep some shred of decency, though. You’re not at yours or his, and you’re not in your head this time. You’re in a very public space, even if everyone knows what goes on behind the locked doors. “N-no sex.” you bargain.
 He nods. “Can I use my mouth?” he nuzzles into your temple, and two of his fingers tap against your pussy. “Can I use it here?” he places the gentlest, teasing kisses between his words. “I’ll be quick.” he assures.
 You whine and squirm against him. “Confident?” you ask, trying to tap into your usual, quit wit. To little avail. It’s no use. You were ruined at the first taste of him, the first feel of his lips on yours. You can only imagine how they will feel in other, more secret places.
 He smiles, tongue in cheek before he shrugs lightly. “A little.”
 You roll your eyes, but when he plays with your clit again, your hips buck into his palm and he takes that as a yes and moves down your body. His hands come up to play with your boobs briefly, squeezing and rolling them in his hands. “Gonna fuck these one day, okay?” he tells you.
 Him saying that he’s gonna fuck your tits, should be vulgar. But to you it’s a promise that this is going to happen again, and it makes you high, floaty thinking about him wanting you, desiring you. Him already thinking about the next time he gets to have you when he hasn’t even finished with you this time. 
 Your brain is hazy and his touch is burning through your clothes but that’s nothing compared to the way his breath feels on your clothed cunt when he finally finds his place between your legs. You’re wet, embarrassingly so and you know your panties are sticking to your core. Your ears are still cloudy, and you’re sure you’re probably imagining it, but when Jeongguk slips his fingers into the sides of your panties to peel them away, you think you can almost hear the wetness. He grabs them from the top and starts to pull them down and off your feet. Your hands come to your face to try and hide, your legs instinctually closing.
 He’s having none of that. His hands are placed on your knees as he slides them over your thighs, chills following the path of his fingertips. He places a gentle pressure, urging you to open them. He’s a little higher than your cunt, kind of resting on your lower belly when he pulls at your hands, making you look at him. 
 “Don’t hide from me,” he says quietly. One of his hands tangles with yours as he slowly lowers himself to your pussy. He kisses and licks over your smooth, pink lips. His hand that’s holding yours squeezing every now and then when he looks up at you with his dark, lust filled eyes.
 His free hand comes down to slip between your folds, and just teases at your opening, almost like he’s playing with the little droplets of slick that are dripping from your core. Your legs open a bit more, shame and shyness steadily creeping away as you yearn for him to make you feel good. You feel him smile and peck your pussy lips before he rests his head on your thigh. He looks at you, doe-eyes filled with mirth.
 “Want my fingers, too, pretty girl?” he muses.
 You close your eyes as you nod, an exhale stutters from your chest.
 “What do you say?” he taunts.
 Eyebrows furrowed, and lips pouted, you grumble out a soft, “Please…”
 He hums before he slowly sinks his middle finger inside. It feels good right away, his finger is much longer and thicker than your own, reaching that spot inside that you always struggle to reach. Your mouth parts and the softest sigh leaves your lips. His other arm wraps around your thigh, and fingers slide between your folds from the top to spread them so your clit is exposed and ready for his tongue. When he finally tastes you, he moans along with you, before he gets to work.
 He wasn’t lying when he said it wouldn’t take long. Jeongguk’s tongue is skilled. It works fast, flicking quickly over your clit, up and down. It’s constant and wet, and it's so filthy the way his tongue on your sweet spot makes your pussy just gush all over the finger he has inside of you. 
 He sucks gently when his tongue and jaw need a break, little pulses and slurping suctions stimulating you, before he goes right back to lapping at your sensitive little bud, occasionally dipping down to lick at your center, wrapped tight around his finger. 
 He pulls your hood back a little more, placing wet kisses to your clit, tongue licking just slightly before his lips wrap around it making you jolt from the direct sensation. 
 You’re braced on your arms, looking down at him, watching him make you come apart at the seams. When he adds his ring finger, your head and eyes roll back, and your legs spread even farther, making yourself as open as you can for him. 
 “Fuck, I’m already close,” you whine, high pitched and airy. You bring a hand down and brush some of his hair out of his face, and you see him smile a little, smug as he puffs out a soft laugh. His breath is hot on you, as his tongue and lips keep playing with your clit. His fingers speed up too, curling every time they are pushed in, dragging when they pull out. He knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to make you fall apart.
 “You gonna cum for me baby?” he purrs against your cunt.
 Your brows are pinched in pleasure and you nod as you watch him. “Yeah, don’t stop, please,” you whisper.
 His eyes close as he drowns in you, his face pressed up against you as he licks you from an angle that is so precise and so perfect that your legs start to shake. The hand you have in his hair tightens and you pull, keeping him close as you chant quiet, lewd praises.
 “Gonna cum, Koo- oh my god-” Your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut. 
 Right when you’re on the crest of pleasure, Jeongguk replaces his tongue with his fingers so he can watch you as you cum. He sees the way you're about to protest at the loss of his mouth before your body tenses and your back arches off of the bench, his fingers toying with you enough to make the rush hit you before you can even complain. 
 “Fuck, look at you baby,” he murmurs in awe. 
 His eyes are trained on your pussy, the way it clenches and contracts around his fingers. He spreads you as wide as he can so he can have the best view of your pink cunt pulsing, and dripping. His fingers slow on your clit as you start to come down and the fingers inside of you almost pet at your g-spot, milking every last bit of pleasure he can from you. 
 Slow is still overwhelming though, when you’ve just cum. It’s not long before your hands are reaching between your legs and gripping at his wrist.
 “Too much,” you cry.
 He coos, as he removes his fingers. He gently pulls at your inner lips and opens up your puffy little cunt. “She’s still pulsing around nothing…” he says. He sounds dazed, lust drunk. “Did I make you cum that hard, baby?”
 You’re still trying to catch your breath as you look down your nose at him. He’s got that effortlessly confident, cocky look on his beautifully, flushed face and you just want to kiss it off. You kick him instead.
 “Awe, don’t be mad, I’m only teasing,” he giggles as he settles himself on top of you, resting on your chest. He squeezes your tit good-naturedly. 
 “Confidence is only sexy if it’s paired with humility, which you are sorely lacking, my friend.”
 “Your special friend,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.
 You grab his face and angle it towards you and kiss him before you can think too much about it. Before you can think about how it might scare him. The way he tenses in your hold is heart-stopping. Not in a lovesick way, but in the worst gut-wrenching way. You can almost feel the inner battle that he has within himself before he seems to give in.
 The soft sigh he moans into your mouth is so sweet, that it’s toothache inducing. The way he lets himself melt into you and the way he becomes pliant in your hold almost feels better than his tongue. With his pliancy in mind, you gingerly sit up, mouths never parting, and he goes easily with you until you’re crowding his space and eventually straddling his lap. The kiss is still soft, saccharine sweet when his hands slip under your skirt. They knead at your cheeks, pulling and squeezing admiring how plush your body is. You’re about to start working your hips over him, but he groans and gets a hold of you before you start going.
 “You already made me cum in my pants once, you are not doing it again,” he whisper scolds, while playfully nipping at your bottom lip.
 “I thought it was sexy,” you whisper back. You brush your nose against his.
 You’ve got your hands working through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck. He hums while he pushes into your touch, eyes closing.
 “You know what else is sexy?”
 You make a soft questioning noise.
 “When you walk out of here with no panties on,” his eyes are still closed as he smirks.
 You’re jostled quickly and back on the bench instead of his lap. He’s crowding your space and when you look him over, you see your light blue panties hanging from his finger. You blush.
 “Jeongguk, you better give those back right now,” you whisper.
 He quirks an eyebrow. Then he leans in and coos into your ear, “Don’t you think it would be more fun to think about what I’m gonna do with them? How I might be planning on wrapping them around my cock the next time I touch myself? How I might be planning to cum all over them?” 
 It’s audible when you swallow down the desire crawling up your throat. You raise to your feet and head for the door.
 “You should tie your sweater around your waist, your boner is distracting and indecent,” you say with a quick backward glance. 
 Jeongguk pockets your panties, and laughs before taking your advice and catching up with you. 
 “When I think of you, I think of the color pink.”
  It’s cold outside, but the apartment is warm. So is the bed. So is the body laying next him. Warm.
 Jeongguk doesn’t stay the night very often.
 He is tonight though. His head is on your chest and his fingertips are lazily running over your bare skin leaving little chills trailing behind. Your hand is in his hair. It’s getting long now, and it’s still soft, easy for you to run your fingers through, despite being bleached a week or so ago. You went with him to the appointment. 
 Jeongguk laughs a little. “That’s funny because I also think of the color pink when I think of you.”
 He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but he can tell you’re smiling, close to giggling when you respond, “Really? Why?”
 He hums and looks up at you. You look back with that look of adoration that you always have when gazing at him. His chest constricts, it’s hard to breathe when he’s with you sometimes. 
 “Because of how pretty, and pink your pu-”
 You push your hand in his face with a laugh and try to roll away from him. “God, shut up! You’re so crass.”
 You don’t get far before he’s got his hold on you. His big hands wrapping around your tiny bones. He manhandles you until you’re properly under him, hands pinned and bottom half weighed down by him straddling you. 
 “That’s not what you were saying a couple of hours ago, was it baby?” he taunts. “What was it you said? ‘Yeah, Koo… your cock feels so good, please cum inside me, fill me up.’ right?” he says, making his voice breathy and high pitched, mocking you. 
 He presses into your cheek, nips at your ear as he teases, basking in the way that your cheeks blush red, incandescent. Warm, just like the apartment, like the bed. Like the whole of your body underneath him. 
 You’re there often, under him. Sometimes on top of him, next to him, in front of him. He kisses you, chaste yet thorough, and you keen, hands fighting against his hold like you want to touch.
 Again, he relishes in your reaction. He relishes in everything about you, everything you do, all of the time. The way that you’re witty and sarcastic when you’re out and about. The way you constantly talk about things as if you’re painting a picture with your words, carefully choosing each syllable. 
 Versus the way you get when you’re just with him. Sometimes still witty, a visionary, but mostly shy, sweet, and like the most delicate flower in his destructive hands. He tries to be gentle with you, he really does. But he’s a creature of habit; and he has a habit of being rough, a habit of hurting and ruining pretty things. He hates that about himself. But it’s almost subconscious, he never realizes he’s doing it, ruining it, until it’s too late.
 But he’s been transparent with you. It’s not his fault that you always seek him out, and it’s not his fault that you’re the sun, always there in a sense, in his mind. It’s not his fault that he’s grown to crave your comfort, your presence. Even at night when you’re not physically with him and the sun has set but his bed still has lingering warmth on the side that’s not his; even then, you’re still there in the recesses of his mind, just like the sun is still in the sky even if it can’t be seen, even if the moon has taken its place for the night. Or a star, as you would say. It’s not his fault.
 His hands release yours, and one comes up to your cheek, thumb rubbing over the apple. Your hand comes down and holds at his inked wrist as your lashes flutter. His eyes scan the entirety of your face before a lopsided grin starts to form on his lips. He tilts his head a little. 
 “And why do you think of pink?” Jeongguk asks.
 He watches as you flush even darker, the smallest scowl falling over your features, a little wrinkle forming between your brows. He bites his lip to keep from laughing at you.
 “You think I’m gonna tell you now?” you spout.
 He doesn’t give in, knowing you just want to bicker. He knows you do that, pick fights, just because you want attention, just want him focused on you. You’d never admit to being the bratty type, but he knows you well. In that sense at least. Instead he hums, pecks your nose. “That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, I just like that you’re thinking about me.”
 “Do you think about me too?”
 Sometimes you scare him. When you ask him questions like that. In that soft, sweet, hopeful tone. When you give him those tender looks and touch him with hands that are too gentle for someone like him, like you think he’s the one that might break between the two of you. 
 “Too much,” he murmurs honestly.
 You smile and you look like you’re going to say something, but Jeongguk’s quick to change the subject.
 “You should let me tattoo you.”
 “No way!” you say instantly, swatting at his chest. He shifts and rests most of his weight on you, buries his face into your skin. You smell like your body wash, along with a little bit of him. Vanilla and JK.
 “Why not? Do you doubt my craft?” he teases, mock offense lacing his tone.
 “Maybe if you actually went to your apprenticeship every once in a while, instead of skipping to go to those lame parties, I wouldn’t,” you tease back.
 He snorts. “Jokes on you, I skipped it tonight to hang out with your lame ass.”
 You smack him gently again. “Jeongguk!”
 You’re giggling freely, body shaking underneath him and he can’t help but grin at the sound. “Maybe if you let me work on you, I would be more motivated to practice.”
 You hum thoughtfully, eyes crinkled as you try to suppress your laughter. “Fine, but only if you let me tattoo you too.”
 He knows you think that will deter him, but still, he doesn’t even hesitate. “Deal, baby.”
 You laugh at him again, loud and overly bright for a few moments until you realize that he’s not laughing with you. The way your face settles into a confused pout finally breaks Jeongguk’s straight face and makes him chuckle. Your brows are pinched and your eyes are wide.
 “Y-you’re not serious…” your incredulous laugh putters out. “Are you?”
 “Of course I’m serious.”
 And he is. Jeongguk doesn’t know why he is, or why he wants it so badly now that he’s put the idea out there. It was a joke at first, just something to fill the air, to interrupt you before you could say something scary again. But he does. Maybe it’s masochistic. Maybe he just wants something that will remind him of you when whatever it is that's between you two inevitably ends. Because he knows even the brightest of flames burn out eventually. 
 Or perhaps it’s a sadistic desire. Perhaps he wants to be inked into your skin, somewhere secret, so that the next time someone sees you in the same way that he’s seeing you now, they will ask about it, and consequently remind you of him. You’ll still think about him, even when others are with you, trying to hold your attention. Even when you’re trying to forget him. 
 “Matching ones?” you whisper.
 He nods. “Yeah, friendship tattoos.”
 Jeongguk doesn’t miss the way your face falls for the briefest of moments, how your lips part and the softest, tiniest, dejected sigh leaves your lips, before he quickly kisses away the disappointment. It’s bitter on his tongue.
 “Special friendship tattoos,” he amends. Another light kiss. He wonders if it tastes like gasoline to you too. The shadow’s from the candle on your nightstand dance across your skin. Best to be careful with gasoline kisses next to an open flame. “We can get stars.”
 You’re quiet for a moment, mouth dropping down in a pensive frown. “It has to be small. And somewhere where no one can see it on me.”
 He smiles big, and his heart skips a devastating beat when he sees how you instinctively smile back. “Don’t worry, I plan on putting it somewhere very private,” he purrs.
 “You are not tattooing my pussy or my ass, Koo.”
 “Not there!” he laughs, “I meant like by your tit or something.” 
 Jeongguk starts to kiss down your body, he’s always kissing you when you’re together. He stops in the center of your chest on your sternum.
 “We could do it here,” a wet kiss just to the side of your heart. He can feel it, how it speeds up because of his mouth, his hands, him. He travels a little lower.
 At your ribs, just under the curve of your breast, he stops again. “Or here.” Another kiss where his tongue tastes you before his lips even touch. 
 He makes it to your belly button, just about to move to your hip before you speak up.
 “I liked it there, on my ribs,” you say, voice a little wispy, higher pitched than normal. He notes that your chest is rising and falling just a bit faster than before.
 “I’m not finished yet,” he says, looking up at you through his bangs and his lashes, trying to go for stern, but the humor in his voice gives him away.  
 Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you try and silence your laughter. 
 Jeongguk places a kiss here, a kiss there all over your silken skin. Little kiss marks shine when the candlelight hits them just right. He bites every now and then too, unable to control himself when he gets to the softest part of your lower belly, and the inside of your thighs. He even kisses Jiji on your ankle. He’s gripping your foot and you wiggle your toes in his hold
 “Is Kiki your favorite?” He asks distractedly, lips still playing on your skin, he’s starting to make his way back up now.
 “Spirited Away,” you correct softly, on a giggle as Jeongguk hikes your legs up around his waist. You wrap your arms around his back, and he shivers when you run your nails over his shoulder blades, goosebumps making a short appearance. When he rolls his hips into your pussy, you gasp. He inhales it, breathing in your pleasure. It makes him throb, hard and hot against you. “I’m still wet inside from earlier,” you whisper.
 He groans into the kiss he brandishes your lips with. He ruts harder into you, bringing a hand down between your bodies, and gripping the base of his cock so that he can rub the tip against your clit. He feels how wet you are, with your slick as well as his cum from just a little bit ago. He tsks, scolds you playfully. “I know, I can feel it. So messy.” He’s smiling when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.
 Your eyes are fluttering when you ask, “What’s your favorite?”
 Jeongguk’s distracted, of course he is. How could he not be when you're mewling underneath him, squirming from the tip of his cock swirling around your clit? He humors you. “Howl’s Moving Castle,” he says as he pushes the head in before hissing and pulling back out. He does it a few times, teasing himself with your cunt.
 When you laugh, it catches him off guard. Enough to make him pause and look up at you with a dumb smile on his face, just grinning because he somehow made you laugh, and the sound of it is nice.
 “That would be your favorite.”
 “What’s that supposed to mean?” He spits into his hand, slicks himself up, rubs a little on your pussy.
 “You’re just-” You gasp when his fingertips graze your clit. He gasps when you spread your legs wider for him, sweet and eager, just like always. “You’re just like him. Charming, confident…”
 “Go on,” he grins into your neck, sucking a little bruise. You tilt your head so he can reach better.
 “Slow down.”
 You giggle. “Stealing hearts and eating them.”
 He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. He braces some of his weight on your thigh, tests your flexibility as he hovers over you, lips brushing yours lightly, teasing. He gives in when you crane your neck to reach him. “I haven’t eaten yours, have I?” He muses.
 Your hand comes up and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “No, not yet.” 
 You pause and look at him with one of those soft, terrifying looks. He knows you don’t even realize how scary it is, when you look at him like that.
 “Maybe I’ll be the one to steal your heart, hmm?” your head tilts, and you smile at him faint and cute. It’s meant to be playful, but Jeongguk can already feel his heart clawing its way up his throat. “You who swallowed a falling star, o' heartless man, your heart shall soon be mine,” you quote, tease, with a giggle.
 Jeongguk goes rigid on top of you. His heart is beating fast in his chest, loud in his ears. He kisses you, hard. Bruising like the first time. Hopefully you take it as eagerness. 
 “Stop talking,” he whispers, begs against your lips. 
 When he slides into you, he can’t help but wonder if you remember that that was the curse the wicked witch placed on Howl to trap him. 
 There’s something about Jeongguk that makes people drawn to him. He’s charming, enrapturing,  in every sense of the word. Makes people feel special. His laugh is infectious, loud and often more entertaining than the original joke when he does that thing where he claps his hands, or falls to his knees if it’s funny enough. Being around someone like that is refreshing. He’s captivating and easy to be around, easy to love. He’s such a bright light no matter where he goes, a beacon to those in his vicinity.
  And he’s so, so kind. To everyone that speaks to him. Even to those that don't speak and just look, he offers a kind smile. When someone has his attention, they have it all, his big doe-eyes holding eye contact, nodding to let them know he’s listening and being attentive. He’s a good person. A little hard to understand, hard to get close to. So people say, so you’ve learned. But he’s good. Not much is known about stars, anyway. 
 You’re watching him right now, always watching. You’re on another stained sofa in a different house than the one you usually went to with your knees pulled to your chest, a cup of beer resting on your knee. He’s chatting with someone, looks like the guy is showing him his tattoos. Jeongguk smiles, looks enthused, points to one that he must like based on his reaction. Then he’s holding up his own forearm, pointing to a small piece of ink, and then of course, he’s pointing at you.
 Just before coming here, you and