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hansolmates · 4 years

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jjk; angel’s trumpet [02]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, mentions of smut in future chapters w.c; 3.5k a/n; i know it feels like a lot of bg and internal conflict but y/n!! our girl is struggling! she’s processing and is going through some times BUT things will spice up soon so thank you for all the love +notes, see you again thursday!

[01] [02] [03]-> masterpost

The two most frequent contacts in your phone (you hope it’s your phone? It’s the same edition and everything) are Jimin and Taehyung.

Jungkook (or not-Jungkook) high-tailed it out of there as soon as he deemed your reactions unfit for basic human society. He muttered that you were crazy and probably under something, and sped off in his motorcycle just like that. Like you were a stranger.

It's not easy to ignore the aftermath of your heart after taking yet another rejection, but you're independent and you must stride forward in this strange situation. Taking a cautionary look around the area, you clutch your phone like a lifeline, tethering you together in this unfamiliar place. There's not many people around, but you spot a large library and a playground. Professionals are mulling from building to building, zombies in wrinkled suits and dripping iced coffees. Your phone displays an innocent 7:51, revealing how early it is. Toggling between the two friends in your contacts you take your chances and start with Jimin. The phone rings once, twice, before his dulcet voice chimes in your ear.

“Babe?” he croons, and your heart drops at the sickly warm tone, “you can’t get enough of me after what we did last night?”

You’re going to throw up. Scratch that, acid is already bubbling through your throat and you force yourself to tamp it down. There is no, no way in hell could you have hooked up with Park Jimin in your lifetime.

Unless this is hell.

“Jimin,” you steel your voice, hoping he can’t hear how absolutely mortified you are. You can picture this version of Park Jimin now, laying around in bed with crossed legs and casually enjoying how much you’re squirming on the other line, “I just need you to tell me where I live so we can move on with our lives.”

He laughs, giggles bubbling like soft pink champagne. “Wow, I really must’ve fucked your brains out if you can’t even remember where you live.” God, in what life would Park Jimin be “fucking your brains out”? Maybe you should find a trashcan just in case you do puke on the sidewalk. “Y’know, you signed your lease with Taehyung a month ago? You just moved in last week?”

“T-Taehyung?” you stutter, trying to imagine the notion, “I live with Taehyung?”

A beat passes, and you realize that just like you scared not-Jungkook away, you could be doing the same to Jimin.

He says your name softly, gone the cocky tone you were initially bombarded with. “Are you okay? You could’ve waited for me to wake up, y’know. We had a lot to drink last night.” he mumbles, almost cutely if it weren’t for the fact the he was insinuating sex two seconds ago, “Did you eat?”

“‘M fine,” you mumble, trying to chalk up your previous question with inhiberation. “Just loopy, I guess. I almost got hit by a motorbike, so my brain is probably just catching up.”

“You got hit? Did you call a hospital?” great, now Jimin’s panicked. “Where are you? I’m gonna go get you. Drop your location, I’m leaving now!”

“I’m fine!” you snip, and you feel bad for nearly screaming on the line. “I’m almost home, I’m just gonna lay in bed and sleep it off. I’ll call you later, okay?”

You don’t bother hearing his response, and you hang up. You then start to furiously scroll Taehyung’s chat wall, noting that he’s on an academic trip with his students until next week and you have the apartment to yourself. After a good ten minutes of scrolling and reading conversations that you can’t recollect you finally catch the address to your shared apartment.

The city is the same, fortunately. So are the bus stops, and you’re thankful that your bus pass has some fare money. Turns out you’re starting your journey at the University of Seoul. The bus routes are the same as well, and you manage to take a tour of your side of the city, noting the tiny differences in the town.

For example, there’s no BigHit Entertainment in its usual spot. Instead it’s an additional practice space for Cube Entertainment.

There’s no fanfare to your city tour, and it almost feels like you’re just a normal woman taking a ride home. There’s still the same trees and squirrels, familiar odeng stands and ice cream shops. It feels like you’ve been cut and pasted into this world with no rhyme or reason, a fever dream.

The bus circles around the usual route once more until you’re in front of your supposed home, only a twenty minute bus ride from where Jungkook almost ran you over.

It’s a lot, and you realize on the drive over that you’re probably in deeper shit than you could ever imagine. You pull out your keys, and instead of seeing the ramen keychain Jungkook got you when he went to Tokyo Disney, instead it’s replaced by a university ID labeled Assistant Professor under your full name.

You pin that new fact for later and focus on getting inside.

Your apartment is nice, you muse. Simple black and white furniture, but there’s a definitive home-ness to it. There’s a moss green afghan folded up on the couch, presumably made by the artist himself. You’re glad Taehyung’s appeal for the arts hasn’t been lost, as revealed by the frames on the walls detailing pictures of you and Taehyung’s families, and some of Jimin and Taehyung.

Deeper into the apartment you find your room. You choke back a sob at the familiar bedsheets your parents bought you at Target, and you even notice some familiar clothing pieces folded haphazardly in the corner. Instead of your bed being filled with shameless BT21 PR however, your RJ and Mang are replaced with simple panda and cat plushies.

Finally letting your tears fall, you sob loudly into your pillows, hugging and grappling at anything to comfort you. You feel achy and tired, as if your heart has fallen out of your body and nothing can fill the void. As much as your bed sheets feel the same, as genuine as those pictures are in your shared living room, this isn’t your home.

•━━━━━━»••»💮💮💮«••«━━•

Between your bouts of crying and forcing yourself to stomach cheap ramen, you find out a couple of things.

You’re an assistant professor at Seoul University. At least this version of you is. A little part of you is pleased by this, you have always wanted to teach at the university level before settling with BigHit. To your chagrin however, you’re not a language professor.

To your horror, you’re a pre-medical student teaching two “History of Neuroscience” classes. It’s only two classes because according to your Google calendar, you’re also balancing the completion of your final thesis on muscular dystropathy among low-income neighborhoods.

Dear god, if your parents ever found out you could’ve been a doctor in another life, they’d be surely choking on their own spit. In this world, you probably weren’t lazy and wholly capable of achieving the impossible.

You don’t know why you spend the next two hours sending emails to your students about cancelling the next week of classes. Fortunately all your lessons are neatly packaged in your drive, and you send out an email with said lessons citing your mental health and how you’ll resume direct instruction the following week.

From time to time, your eyes can’t help but travel to the frames and polaroids that decorate your walls. Some of the memories are vaguely similar, a house in the suburbs, an annoying cousin who can’t stop and won’t stop pulling at your pigtails, a movie night with unlimited pizza and breadsticks.

Some of them are far and beyond your state of recognition. Jimin and you playing hopscotch by the river, Taehyung stuffing his face with fried potato skins in a cheap hole-in-the-wall, you winning the blue ribbon at your high school’s science fair.

You could very well walk out of this life and just focus on going back home, but something tells you that you need to continue on with this life, at least for now.

It feels too real to be a dream. When you tug at your hair tie, it’s painful when it snaps across your wrist. Your skin blooms with color upon impact. Could you die in this world? If Jungkook had not skidded in time, would you have survived a motorcycle accident?

Three days pass like that. You’re contemplating, absorbing information. In-between pints of ice cream and crying your ducts out, you’re drawing conclusions. Could you be in a coma? A very realistic, painful coma? But Jimin and Taehyung are still sending you texts and the day turns to night as painfully slow as it always has. A coma can’t fake a forty person class, all of them vying for your attention through various emails and Zoom calls. It can’t be it.

And as you rummage through your drawers, check every bit of social media and even your yearbook photos, you also confirm that Jeon Jungkook has no place in this version of your life. It saddens you greatly, and reminds you eerily about the heated conversation you had before all of this. The Jungkook from days ago, the one who looked terrified when you tried to touch him, only met you through happenstance.

By day four, you get a phone call. There’s no picture next to the contact, only named Biggie Mentor. After a few rings, you finally get the courage to answer the call.

A deep timbre seeps its way through the line, and you almost whine at how much you missed him. “y/n,” Namjoon says, but he doesn’t sound happy, “tell me why our students said you cancelled all of your classes this week due to mental health?”

If Namjoon’s your mentor, that means you’re probably in deep shit for cancelling all your classes without his consent.

“Uh, exactly that,” you say, and it hurts how much you have to strain your voice, trying not to pour any type of affection into this version of Namjoon. You’ve always had a soft spot for his gummy smile. “I’m sorry for not telling you beforehand. Something really traumatic just happened and,” you choke back a sob, trying to cover the microphone, “and I really needed some space.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” his voice is like melted honey, and you close your eyes and picture yourself back at BigHit, Namjoon’s happy smile whenever he tries to cheer you up. It only makes you even more upset, and your mind is all shadowed and filled with fuzzies as you attempt to picture Namjoon as your boss, “I was just shocked, that’s all. Is everything alright?”

“No,” you reply truthfully, “and I don’t know if it will be.”

There’s a terse silence, both your breaths hanging on the line with no move to continue the conversation. If your personality here is similar to your true world, you would understand why Namjoon would have a hard time formulating a reply. You don’t even know how close you are with him here. What remains is that you’re the type to keep your secrets to yourself, and if they truly felt hindering, you’d tell somebody. Not to say you’re the suffer in silence type of person, but you weren’t one to immediately dump your feelings on someone.

Finally, Namjoon musters a reply, “I have a break at two. Why don’t you swing by our usual lunch spot and we can talk? Their sandwiches always cheer you up. ”

“Joonie,” your voice cracks, and you shake your head despite the fact that he can’t see you. A slip of the nickname comes out before you can help it, and you hope this Namjoon is fond of the manner. “I don’t know where that is. Or what our ‘usual’ spot is. I don’t know what sandwiches you’re talking about either.”

“Okay,” and you relax at the calmness in his tone, “I’ll swing by after my 5PM then. Set the table for us, yeah?”

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

Namjoon smells of dry-erase marker and antiseptic.

He’s bounding into your apartment like it’s his own home, carrying two paper bags and a stack of leather bound books. The items fly across your coffee table, and you two work together to organize both your dinner and the books. Namjoon looks like a textbook nerd, wearing shades of burgundy and burnt orange as he breaks into your front door. Gone are the boots and sleek outfits that trim his figure, and you can’t help but go a little anti-starstruck at how normal this moment is.

But what remains is the bumbly stance as he makes his way through your tiny space, long limbs and all flailing to help you place his work in a safe space. The curve of his nose and dimples so deep you could fill a lake in them, you can’t help but muster a shy smile as he takes notice that you’re staring at him a little too much for comfort.

The two of you eat in relative silence, and you gratefully accept the bag he pushes in your direction. To your surprise the sandwich inside is a favorite combination of yours, and you wonder if this restaurant exists in your world.

Your world.

“Namjoon,” you place your sandwich down, despite the fact that your stomach is protesting for you to finish the first real meal you’ve had in days, “you know that movie, Avengers?”

Namjoon’s face is puffed with bread, and you hand him a water bottle to chug it down. “Dunno,” he shrugs, “Marvel isn’t a popular franchise, so even if I had I wouldn’t remember.”

“Marvel isn’t popular—” what kind of fucked up world is this? Your Jungkook would have a field day if he was in your shoes. “Anyway. There’s a concept from Marvel that there’s multiple Earths. Like you can create a rip in space and land yourself in another dimension if you’re not too careful. Do you think it’s possible?”

Your tall mentor pushes his charcoal hair back, exasperated. “Is this why you’re taking off? Because you believe in some silly comic book series?”

You feel your heart cracking, desperately trying to keep itself together. In your haste you grip Namjoon’s arm, desperate. “Please, just hear me out.” you warble, “a few days ago I was out drinking with a friend. Next thing I know, I’m in another world where I run into a boy. That boy is my friend, but he says he doesn’t recognize me! But I don’t recognize this life. Namjoon I can’t even imagine you wanting to be a doctor!”

Namjoon is looking at you funny, and you know he’s really trying to believe you. Instead of the reassuring words you hope for, he instead says, “this isn’t even pseudoscience, y/n. This is supernatural! How could you possibly think you’re from another dimension? I just saw you last week and everything was fine!”

“I saw you last week too!” you exclaim, clutching your chest, “and you cried again for the umpteenth time because you lost another pair of custom Airpods.”

A pause. “That does sound like me.”

Hope blooms in your stomach. “Doesn’t it?”

“Well, in this supposed other life. What is my profession?”

Your face falls. “Uh, you’re in a worldwide K-pop band. You’re making millions and producing beautiful music.”

That sounded way better in your head. Out loud it sounded absolutely bonkers. You don’t even blame Namjoon when he bursts out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. You let him, sinking further into your seat and hugging your knees. You really hoped Namjoon would’ve come through for you.

However you’re not laughing along with him, and he immediately stops at your teary expression. He pushes himself over to you with his long legs, quickly moving to prevent yourself from tucking into your shell. He sees how small your form becomes and he reaches over to place a hand over your hair. “You’re really upset over this, aren’t you?” he questions aloud, and he can’t piece it together, “did you hit your head or something?”

Defeated, you explain, “I may have gotten hit by a motorcycle the other day.”

“What?” he squeezes your shoulder, “well, that explains a lot! What if you’re hallucinating? What if you have a concussion? You could be suffering from short-term memory loss!”

You’re sure it’s none of those things, but you let him ramble. The explanation is clear-cut and so painfully normal that it’s the only conclusion that Namjoon will cling to. Your mentor insists you take a medical leave, and says he’ll take over your classes in the meantime. He gives you a number to call, explains there one of the best doctors for trauma and motor incidents. You don’t say anything to that, but you accept the number and lie when you say you’ll call them in the morning. Namjoon still treats you like a friend however, despite your fruitless confession, and you concede that his comfort is more than enough after such a rough week.

•━━━━━━»••»💮💮💮«••«━━••

It’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve contacted Jimin.

Sure, Jimin’s contacted you. A couple flirty texts here, some low-key sexy selfies there. Usually, you’d eat that up like honey and butter. Now, there’s only one-word replies and half-hearted attempts at continuing a conversation. He loosens his tie, thankful he’s working out of the office today. He can look at his phone all he wants, and no one will judge him.

Jimin finally looks up at the photographer his marketing company contracted, who’s still mulling over the contract. “We’re not trying to jip you, promise.” Jimin assures, and he almost laughs at the comical way the young man’s large eyes catch his concern. “You’ll get all that money, and then some if you need to work overtime. It’s a sweet gig.”

“Yeah,” the young man nods, and grabs the pen to sign at the bottom. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“Same to you, Mr. Jeon,” Jimin grins, meeting him halfway across the table, “I’ve seen your work, I’m sure the commercial will be beautiful.”

“You can call me Jungkook,” the new employee flashes him a quick grin, taking his palm in his. Jimin tries not to twitch at this cute kid, who is both devastatingly handsome and cute at the same time. He’s a little jealous, a little attracted.

“Great, because Mr. Park is my dad. Jimin’s fine.”

It’s then that Jimin’s phone lights up, both pairs of eyes darting to the picture of you decorating the wallpaper.

While it’s not a completely flattering picture (you’re asleep with your wire-rimmed glasses half-off and there’s drool dribbling down your chin.) However it’s definitely you, the person Jungkook nearly killed a couple days ago.

Jungkook’s mouth goes dry, and he lets go of Jimin’s hand like it’s fire. Jimin hardly notices, grabbing his phone in hope that you replied to his text. To his despair, it’s just Taehyung. He ruffles his hair in frustration, letting the slick ebony strands fall out of his hairstyle.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, shoving his phone in his blazer.

“Everything alright?” Jungkook asks, trying to be polite. On the other hand, he’s rather curious about the girl from weeks ago, who still hasn’t left his mind.

In the heat of the moment, Jungkook left the scene with you blubbering on the road. How wide your eyes were with recognition, and almost mother-like as you coddled him like someone to protect. He’s felt bad about it since, but he had an interview with Jimin’s boss and he couldn’t blow a job opportunity. It couldn’t be helped that your sad expression has been his midnight fixation when he can’t sleep or has a creative block. He should’ve at least called a cab to take you to the hospital or something, you were clearly not in the right mind.

“Yeah, it’s just a friend.” Jimin forces a smile, not wanting to dump his baggage on the new employee. “She almost got hit by a motorcycle the other day,” Jungkook masks a wince, remembering the horror he felt when he saw you, just lying there across the street. “Ever since then, she just hasn’t been herself. I’m just worried. It’s like she’s seen a ghost or something.”

“Oh,” Jungkook steals a glance at Jimin’s phone again, hoping to see your picture light up again. He does feel a little guilty pushing you off him and running away, but then again it was you that started being weird.

How did you know him, and why were you so concerned for his well-being? Would he get fired if he asked Jimin about you? That would be the quickest job he ever got contracted for. Instead, Jungkook forces a smile and offers a neutral, “Well, I’m sure things will work out.”

“Thanks, I hope so too.”

Jungkook’s palms are sweaty, as if it’s a dark premonition that something will happen. With Jimin around supervising him, he has a feeling that if things don’t work out, things will happen regardless.

Maybe he’ll understand why you were so concerned for a stranger’s well-being, and why you looked at him like that.

Like someone in love.

#jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fluff #goldenclosetnet #thekpopnetwork #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #jungkook scenarios

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gwoongi · 4 years

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wordless pt.3

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: hitman (john wick au), sugar daddy au, angst rating: mature words: 3.5k warnings: toxic relationships, non graphic sex a/n: im sleepy but hey im also rly glad bts made a statement about the blm movement :D

Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Jeongguk over the edge if he hears them again.

Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five

(21) Sharing your umbrella with them in the rain.

“Yeah, I did, I submitted it on Thursday. What do you mean, did it get a good mark, it’s only Monday.” As you near the front windows of the building, you sigh and stare at the gloomy clouds presented behind the glass. Korea is cold and wet and dark today. “Fuck, rain. Anyway, I’ll call you later, Eunji, okay?”

Eunji agrees and hangs up the phone before you get the chance to, and you’re left in the cool shadow of the largest cloud in the sky. From nine until eleven, you have a morning class on Monday; today, due to request from at least five students confused by the essay title that was due on Friday evening, the class ran for an additional hour and a half, all of the subject material covered with a general extension for the following Fri. Typical, as you rushed it to hand it in before submission.

“Not going home, Y/N?”

You suck your top teeth with disappointment, “Not yet, Professor, I need to make a call.”

The slim professor arrives at your elbow, “Boyfriend?”

“Not really,” you confess. You glance at your phone and find Jeongguk’s number, “but he owes me a few favours here and there, it won’t hurt to bring an umbrella or something.”

“Good luck,” she laughs. She doesn’t offer her umbrella, despite it being tucked under her armpit, and her car is parked in sight close to the windows. At that, she leaves and you send Jeongguk a quick text message. If he’s working presently, the text will annoy him less than a call.

Raining! I’m stuck, can you send some to come and get me?

Jeongguk must be in office, because his reply is speedy. Forget your subway card again?

I never ask for anything, would it hurt you to send someone to get me?

He doesn’t reply for five minutes, and then, Uni, right?

It takes at least fifteen minutes before a vehicle pulls up across the small car-park; it’s a black car, shiny and wet and loud, and you bristle at its entry. Quickly, you hug your coat closer around your body and when you glance back up towards the window, you’re surprised to see Jeongguk himself briskly crossing the lot with an umbrella over his head.

“I’m here to pick up a Y/N L/N, you seen her?” he asks when he reaches the door, smiling as you haul it open and stare at him with happy surprise. “You did not dress for the weather.”

“The app said it would be cloudy,” you huff.

“Baby, it’s January, what did you expect,” Jeongguk sighs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer to his body. Like this, he walks alongside you towards the car and for a moment, he glances around the complex out the corner of his eye. This University isn’t the dog's bollocks, because as much as he’s willing to help fund you at University, he can’t pay for you to be smarter. You’re pretty happy where you are, not being at a big-name University but doing the exact same degree anyways. He’s happy that you’re happy, but if it were him, he’d probably redecorate the front.

(22) Listening to them while they vent.

When Jeongguk vents, he doesn’t just vent. He never sits you down in front of him and lets it all out, nor does he slink away to therapy, or whining over the phone, or sleepy pillow talk where everything feels safer when you’re seconds away from falling asleep.

Instead, Jeongguk fucks away his problems, and as he does it, you tend to get an earful.

“And,” he grunts, one slap, one thrust, “I fucked it up.” One more. “All of it.” Another groan, a deeper push, “Fuck!”

You like to let him get it all out, and on the plus side, you get what you need which is to relieve the pressure of wanting in your stomach. It’s better when he’s angry, better for both of you, and he’s full of apologies when he’s finished, as if he was yelling at you and not at himself.

“Last time I ever work with Taehyung,” he spits. “Fuck. Ugh.”

You’ll ask him about it later.

(23) Taking a picture together to print and hang later.

One night, you’re over at Jeongguk’s. It’s not unusual that you’re here, especially when you’re here so often that his house feels like your own. From the bathroom, the shower runs loudly and Jeongguk sings, mostly to himself, in the water, meanwhile you dance around his kitchen making tea and bringing it to the bedroom where he’ll come in later when he’s done.

His room is golden and warm, and the curtains are drawn but the thin netting softens the sunset outside. You circle around the end of Jeongguk’s bed and set his cup on the bedside table on his side, closest to the window, when you notice something new sitting in a frame by the lamp. Okay, you’ll bite.

You put down both mugs and in exchange pick up the frame. Something warm bubbles inside your stomach as you look down at the frame; the picture, you’ve never seen before, but it’s of you. You remember the photo being taken in Colmar, the time that Jeongguk came to see you to satisfy his own boredom and need. Never did you imagine it would be a photo he’d print, let alone put in a frame next to his bed. It’s a pretty photo, too, with the river behind you and the sun on your skin, your hair only slightly in your face.

Not a perfect photo, but a pretty one. Jeongguk must like it enough to have printed it.

The shower cuts off in the bathroom and you move quickly, protecting an image of innocence as you put the frame back where it once was, and pick up your mug and place it on your bedside table. You’ve placed Jeongguk’s mug so that he could take it both ways. Maybe he’ll think you didn’t see the frame, or maybe he’ll know you did. He must have put it there for a reason, you think, and then you stop thinking when Jeongguk opens the bathroom door and enters the bedroom.

(24) Tracing your names together in the sand.

Jeongguk had a call from Hawaii. It was brief, and you imagine not very pleasant, but he had to go nonetheless. Jeongguk sure as hell wasn’t going to go to Hawaii without you, no matter how dangerous that might be for him. He told you with two hours notice to pack up your shit and meet him at his place. The plane took off three hours later, and Hawaii here you come.

He never liked to be late, or behind schedule, and so the job that needed to be done was done in a record breaking speed. Like always, he’d have some time to kill before needing to flee to avoid the authorities, and when Jeongguk heads back home after the deed is done, he steps into an empty room and his skin runs cold.

“Y/N?” he calls, to no response. He sets down his things and moves around the suite, his eyes darting to every area.

There is a moment where Jeongguk fears for the worst and out of instinct grabs the gun tucked into his belt. He pulls it out in the bedroom but pauses when out of the corner of his eye, he sees a person standing on the beach just outside the window. Jeongguk pauses.

Outside, the sun is warm and burning orange, sinking down into the pretty waves. You could get used to Hawaii, maybe, if you failed at journalism at the end of your degree, or if Jeongguk hurt your feelings enough that you felt living in Korea itself would be too painful to endure.

“Y/N!”

You turn over your shoulder, noticing Jeongguk stepping down from the dunes. He’s still in his suit, a black fit that makes him look slender and tall and absolutely stunning. His hair is still wild and wet and there’s blood on the inside of his blazer, a red that contrasts the white of his shirt. You won’t mention it, because he probably knows already.

“Hey,” you call back.

“It’s- it’s not safe for you to be out here on your own,” he explains, finally by your side. “Fuck, I was worried you’d been kidnapped, or something.”

“Oh, sorry,” you reply. “The sunset was just too pretty.”

Jeongguk sighs with his hands on his hips. “Yeah, it is. Hawaii does sunsets better than Korea, that’s for sure.”

Jeongguk stands next to you and says nothing for a few seconds. The sunset is indeed gorgeous, like something ripped out of a painting from a gallery somewhere fancy and famous. You hum quietly, and jump slightly to the left to grab a large stick off the sand. Jeongguk has to stop himself from smiling as you pick it up, like a kid who pretends the stick is a sword.

“I used to write rude things in the sand for the people in planes who flew past, every single time we went on vacation when I was a kid,” you announce.

Jeongguk laughs, “You were some kid, huh?”

“Maybe you killed the wrong one,” you think, and Jeongguk frowns.

“Can you not bring that up all the time?” You look at him and he frowns deeper, “I know you’re happy about it and stuff, but like...not my proudest moment. Makes me feel sucky.”

“Oh,” you answer. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Just a joke.”

He shrugs, “I know. But still.”

You stab the sand with the stick. “I thought maybe it was like, fitting?”

Jeongguk lifts his head to the sky and closes his eyes. “Can’t we have a trip where we just pretend to be in love or something so I don’t feel so shit about the reason why we came here?”

That shuts you up for a moment, and you turn fully to face him as he continues to stare at the sky.

“Like Colmar, maybe,” you press, and he looks down.

“Yeah.”

It sits there for a bit, like you’re genuinely contemplating it, but then you straighten with a little huff and turn to him.

“Seems fair,” you agree.

Jeongguk almost exhales a sigh of relief and he smiles, genuinely, and follows you across the beach. The tide is a little out, the sand damp where the sea once was and like children, you embrace the fun that’s waiting to be had on the shores. Chasing the waves, running from them, staring at cute crabs that scurry across the sand and laughing at the cute kids that drop their ice creams in the water.

Jeongguk takes the stick gently from your hand and points it towards the white sand, pressing the tip against the grains. You smile against his arm as you bend to see what he draws; the stick drags across the sand and outlines a J, and the first initial of your name. Oh, you think, as he closes them inside a heart and stands back to admire his work.

It’s cute, childishly cute, and he looks proud. Jeongguk beams at you for approval and you smile back, happy.

“Photo,” you say and Jeongguk drops to a crouch near the design and poses with the stick. This photo is cute, probably cuter than the one from Colmar. Jeongguk even lets you keep it.

(25) Wearing clothes in their favourite colour.

Jeongguk’s favourite colour was white, and he loved the way a white shirt or a white coat or any white accessory would look on you. Sadistically he’d love you in the white clothes he ruins, seeing you wrap your body in a white shirt dressed with blood. White was his muse, a colour of purity and innocence. Although he always wore black for work, he had to have an admiration for the colour of white, standard paper or milk white.

Jeongguk knows that your favourite colour is green. He can tell by the amount of green plants around your apartment, and the green blankets and pillows and mugs and the unusual amount of green clothing items you have in your wardrobe. He even remembers the tie you bought him once, a Slytherin green that he actually really likes despite his Hogwarts house being Ravenclaw.

You’ve never actually seen him wear the tie, not until today when Jeongguk makes a quick stop by your apartment as he heads back to the office. He steps inside with a brown bag filled with bagels and he kisses your forehead by the front door and hands them to you. You see the tie and smile; Jeongguk sure as hell looks great in your favourite colour.

(26) Doing a chore for them that you know they aren’t fond of.

You’re lucky that you never really came across Elio, never once when you were at Jeongguk’s home. You had assumed that Elio was sleeping, or elsewhere on days you visited or nights you slept over. To your surprise and perhaps horror, you discovered that Elio had been there all along, just disinterested in coming out to see you from the few rooms that Jeongguk converted into his own personal habitat.

“You just had him here all this time?” you screech quietly, running back into the bedroom after seeing Elio on the couch. “What the fuck.”

“He’s harmless,” Jeongguk shrugs. “He’s not interested in a human diet right now.”

“Right now? That’s not comforting,” you reply. “I’m happy to go through all your shitty paperwork for you, it’s something I actually enjoy, but can you please go out and get them for me?”

Jeongguk cocks his head to the side, “why, can’t find them?”

“They’re in the living room, on the table,” you explain, peering back out, “but Elio’s on the couch.”

He laughs, rising, “He’s not gonna even touch you.”

“He might.”

“He won’t.”

“You don’t know that!”

“No, but he doesn’t hurt me, so he won’t hurt you.”

You gape. “What? He’s your pet, of course he won’t hurt you. He trusts you. He doesn’t even know me.”

Jeongguk sighs loudly and ruffles your hair as he crosses your path. “Whatever. You’re such a fuckin pussy,” then he kisses your neck and heads out into the living room. You quiver by the doorway as he moves without a flinch towards Elio.

The giant cat picks his head up off the couch and yawns in Jeongguk’s direction, his tail swooshing prettily over the side of the couch. His black fur blends into the blanket he lies on and as he blinks slowly, Jeongguk reaches to pet his head and behind his ears. Elio basks in the love, pressing his head further into Jeongguk’s palm, oddly dog-like. Jeongguk spends a few more moments with his beloved exotic and then finally, like he’s reluctant to, picks up the large and messy stack of papers and then walks back towards the bedroom with a smug expression. Elio’s head falls back to sleep.

“Touch me, check I’m still alive after my dangerous encounter,” Jeongguk says, bringing the papers into the room and dropping them on the bed.

“Shut up,” you huff.

(27) Leaving a plate of food in the microwave for when they have a late shift.

A call from Eunji at eight in the evening destroys all the plans you had set in place. Jeongguk had been called to meet with one of the founders of the South Korean Continental, and wouldn’t be back until around nine. You had prepped an entire meal, sitting ready on the side for when he got home.

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t absolutely important,” Eunji apologises, sounding flustered on the line, “I just. I didn’t know who else to call. I went back to the library, I think I got rid of him, but he was definitely following me from the restaurant. Fuck, Y/N, it was so scary.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m glad you called me,” you assure her, already putting your shoes on, “I can’t believe he showed up again. Didn’t he get put in jail?”

Eunji hums like she’s not convinced, “Out on bail, eighty kay.”

“Fuck. Do you, uh,” you start, thinking of if it’s okay to say, “want me to call someone else?” Jeongguk?

Eunji is one of the only people alive who knows about Jeongguk. She had been your best friend since you were seven, and was one of the only people who remained by your side after Jeongguk had your brother executed, and after you decided to become Jeongguk’s little play thing for a few weeks until he lost control and kept you around. Eunji’s no stranger to his antics, and if you warped the story a little, Jeongguk would have no issues with sorting the problem at hand.

“No, no, don’t,” Eunji begs. “He’ll take it too far. People will point fingers at me. Can you just come and get me?”

“Of course,” you tell her. “We’ll go back to mine, I can see Jeongguk whenever.”

Eunji exhales in relief, “I love you, you know that? You’re the best friend ever.”

You hang up a few minutes later and stare sadly at the meal. But it can’t be helped. Jeongguk’s bailed on you a thousand times for his colleagues. He wouldn’t mind, after a few hours of thinking about it. You sigh with repent and move the food towards the microwave.

Rescuing Eunji. Call me, I can come back tomorrow. Please eat.

Jeongguk finds the note when he gets home and scrunches it into a ball in the bin.

He eats alone, in silence, the other side of the table still prepped for another person.

(28) Sharing a drink with them from the same straw.

“Enjoy the movie!”

“Thanks.”

Jeongguk takes the two tickets from the vender and steers you towards the corridor that leads to the rooms. On this rare occasion, Jeongguk has decided to court you. Quite literally, Jeongguk had called you up and asked if you wanted to go on a date, or something, because he was bored and liked you most, and he knows there’s a movie you’ve been wanting to see.

“Are you sure you wanna watch it with me?” you ask him, even though he’s already got the tickets and is walking next to you.

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“I just didn’t think you were a cinema kind of person,” you confess.

Jeongguk hums, “To be honest, I’m not. But this movie looks good, and you wanna see it, and how often do we do things that you wanna do?”

It’s true.

The cinema room is dark and empty, since you’re both early to begin with. As always, it’s a little bit sticky and smelly, and Jeongguk pushes you towards the back row because it is inarguably the best place to sit in the cinema. You set down the large drink in between you both, two straws poking out in each of your directions.

“It’s great this movie is showing here,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, well the LGBT plus movement is really popular now, people are a lot more accepting of it,” Jeongguk states. “I mean, look at how well The Handmaiden did.”

You nod, “great movie.”

“It is,” he agrees. A few minutes later and the lights dim significantly, the movie is probably about to start. Jeongguk leans to the left a little and sips from the drink.

(29) Tucking their hair behind their ear to help them get it out of their face.

Uni’s tough, nobody said it wasn’t. Jeongguk doesn’t really understand this, since he never went to University. He brings a mug of tea from the kitchen to his bedroom where you’re sitting cross-legged staring at a laptop, setting it to the side and sitting just behind you but to your side, watching you closely.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what,” you mutter dimly.

“Overworking yourself,” Jeongguk replies, “I can see your brain fucking pulsing against your skull.”

You sigh loudly. “I can’t do this. Why did I enroll in University? I should have just put it all away after high school and become a trophy wife.”

Jeongguk’s brows furrow. “You can still be a trophy wife, you’ll just be a smart one.”

You look at him. “I’m not smart enough for this.”

For a while, Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, and he just sits listening to you. As you vent, and open up about how hard it is to do this damn degree, Jeongguk watches your face and your body and uses his fingers to gently tuck the hair that falls in front of your face behind your ear. The passion that pours out of you when you’re frustrated is an unspoken beauty that you’re not even aware of, and Jeongguk eats it up.

He does what he can to put you at ease, because things he says in encouragement are things you already know anyway. Like all humans, all you need is a little bit of love, and Jeongguk’s happy to give it if it means you’re happy with him.

(30) Helping scratch that itch on their back they can’t reach.

“Can’t reach. Baby, scratch my back for me?”

You cringe away from the TV, “what the fuck am I? Your maid?”

“Please?”

You sigh. “Where’s it itching?”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

“You don’t pay me enough for this.”

“I don’t pay you at all.”

Sigh. “Exactly.”

#wrote this watching high society its a bad movie dont watch it #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jeongguk scenario #bts #bangtan #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jungkook #jeongguk #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #jjk #bts mafia au #sugar daddy au #wordless

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

Chapter Two

Summary: When you hear that your recently deceased grandmother left you her property in her will, at first you think that a dinky old cottage in the middle of nowhere isn’t going to mean much for you. But after spending a night there, you discover something far more valuable than the house itself: a hidden door that leads to another time, the same place but over 200 years in the past. In the late 18th Century, there is a king who will die before his 21st birthday unless you can save him. Will you help him, even if it means leaving your own life behind?

A/N: I’ll be updating this story twice weekly, Thursdays (9am GMT) and Saturdays (8pm GMT). Ask to be included in the taglist to keep up to date with the newest chapters!

The mystery man, whose name is actually Yoongi, seems surprised you didn’t see this coming. Apparently he’s spoken many times with your recently deceased grandmother, and she had planned on telling you before she went.

“Time travel,” you muse, staring vacantly at the dancing flames in the fireplace as Yoongi unhooks a small cauldron and pours out a steaming liquid into two clay cups. “Really, this is easily the most elaborate dream I’ve ever had.”

“Please, Y/n,” he instructs calmly as he returns and hands you a mug, “have something warm to drink to calm you down. This isn’t a dream. Don’t worry, you can come and go at any time.”

You just shake your head, still letting your vision haze over. “This is too crazy. How does it even work?”

He sends you a grin so small you almost miss it in your periphery. “I would imagine that the future would have more to say about science than the past. You are a scientist, no?”

You break your empty stare at look up at him, letting your fingers curl into the warm of the mug. “Well, kinda, I’m in medical school. How did you know that?”

“Your grandmother visits often. Visited often,” he corrects with a sullen look. Yoongi tips his head towards your hands. “Drink, please. I promise I’m not going to turn you into a beast or a frog.”

You smile ruefully and lift the edge to your lips, acting like that wasn’t exactly what you were thinking. After taking a deep mouthful, you let it sit on your tongue, pondering the strange tangy sweetness of the thick drink. It pours into your mouth viscous like a sauce but thins out as you swish it around and finally swallow. “What is this, anyway?”

“A tea of sorts,” he answers cryptically, waving an arm towards the shelves and shelves of ingredients. “As the local shaman, I know many basic recipes that use ingredients in my apothecary for more mundane purposes. This concoction is for clarity of mind and tranquility of heart. It will do us both good. It’s been a rather taxing few hours.”

You eye him dubiously, taking another sip of the brew. “I just got told time travel was real and am now living over two centuries before I’m even born. What have you done that was so taxing?”

Yoongi takes his own sip and quirks an eyebrow. “I changed into a cat,” he responds dryly, “which most would consider a strenuous activity.”

You gape at him. “Wait, you- You were the cat?”

“From what I heard from your grandmother, I had expected you’d be smarter. Yes, I was the cat. I figured your first instinct upon seeing a strange man in your house wouldn’t be to follow him through a secret door. I had to get you to follow me somehow.”

You finish off the drink in a large gulp. “Yeah, why did you want me to follow you through? I assume my grandmother knew about it. She asked me in her will to come here alone.”

He avoids your gaze for a moment. “The King doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to fall terribly ill this morning and be dead by midday should no one intervene. Your grandmother believed she could save him, but as a back-up, she ensured you would be her successor.”

You stare out a tiny fogged-up window. It hadn’t occurred to you that there was an entire world outside these four walls, just the fact that you had gone back to the past was difficult enough to handle. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. I have a life, you know.”

Yoongi puts down his small clay mug and comes to crouch in front of you, clutching your hands with his, still warm from the hot drink. “Y/n, I need you to do this. I don’t know why, because your grandmother wouldn’t tell me much about the future, but I know that you need to do this. Please, if you don’t believe me, go back to your time. I have been told you can find out much information if you giggle.”

You blink in shock, before letting out a noise of agreement when you realize what he’s trying to say. “Google, of course. Okay, I’ll do that. And…the door will always be open? I won’t get stuck here or there?”

He smiles and pats your hands cheerily, all solemnity gone. “Of course. There’s a sort of protection spell on the portal, so that only those that have used it before may use it again. I had to open it for you this time, but in the future, you should have no problem navigating it. Please, if you need to research, do it quickly. Time flows the same in both your world and mine, so you must hurry back.”

You nod and let him hustle you up out of the chair. The small wooden door opens to your touch like he said it would, and you give him and this strange room one last glance before crawling back through.

The library certainly isn’t open this time, you figure, your phone reading just before 6am, but luckily you know one of the librarians that basically lives there. “Hey, Joonie,” you call into your phone as you park in the nearly empty parking lot, “I see your Subaru here, I know you’re in the library. Let me in.”

“Wait, you’re at the library? What are you doing?”

You approach the doors and tap impatiently on the glass, spying his shadow approaching. “Come get me, dipshit, it’s a research emergency.”

The figure picks up pace, practically skipping over to you. Namjoon’s tall form casts a shadow over you as he lets you in, and you slip inside, rubbing your freezing hands together. “Research emergency? That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

You grin and ignore him, immediately navigating your way around the university library. Historical records are on the third floor, so you rush up the stairs with a confused yet nevertheless excited Namjoon behind you.

The two of you met on the very first day of classes. You were so worried about bringing the right textbooks that you forgot to bring any pen and paper. Namjoon was sitting beside you and had two pencil cases filled to the brim. Even so, he watched you like a hawk to make sure you gave it back at the end of the lecture, and slowly over time you became like the Karate Kid and that old master. Truthfully, you would’ve failed all of your first-year courses were it not for him kicking your ass into gear. You knew he would be the one to help you here.

“Okay, Namjoon, I need records for King- Fuck, I never asked his actual name.” You curse your stupidity and come to a halt, Namjoon stumbling to avoid bowling you over. “If I gave you a year, could you give me who the King was in that time?”

Namjoon frowns at you. “How is this an emergency?”

You nod resolutely and continue on. “Good, that sounds like a yes to me. Let’s go. The year is 1743, and the King dies that year apparently.”

“Apparently? Y/n, I really worry about you sometimes. I don’t need to bother with the records, King Jeon died in 1743 from bleeding out. It was a pretty big deal at the time; he was the youngest man to ever take the throne, and because he had no heirs, the entire royal family changed. But why do you need to know this?”

You stare at him. “Namjoon, you’re studying to be a heart surgeon. Where the fuck do you get time to study history?”

He crosses his arms defensively. “A thank you would be nice. Did I save your research emergency?”

Your mind is whirring. Yoongi said he died later today, so if it’s bleeding out, that’s a pretty quick death. You need to get back there and tell Yoongi. “It does, thank you, Namjoon. You’re positively indispensable!”

His face warms at the praise, and he gives you a quick hug, promising to catch up sometime, before you dash back out the door.

It seems that Yoongi’s been waiting for you when you return, as he leaps up immediately and shoves a pile of fabric to you. “Proper attire,” he explains, “what you’re wearing will get you noticed in all the wrong ways.”

You stare down at your jeans and tank top. That’s probably fair; you wouldn’t exactly look like someone from the eighteenth century in these. “Where can I change?”

He jerks his head towards a smaller room off to the side. “I’ve set up my store room as temporary lodging should you need to spend the night here. You can pull the tapestry over the doorway for some privacy.

You quickly do as he asks and try not to judge the clothing too hard. It’s a brown dress, thick fabric making it rather heavy, and the front is low enough to require a petticoat underneath to preserve your modesty. After returning to the main room with the skirts bunched up in your hands, you question where he got these from.

“An unlucky maiden left her laundry hanging outside overnight and I simply chose to remind her to be more careful.”

You level a gaze. “You stole it.”

“That is another way of phrasing it, yes. Anyway, enough semantics, the sun has already risen, and we need to hurry.”

TAGLIST Message me or send an ask to be added to the taglist for Sovereign, and never miss a new chapter!

@sonyeonsideupsmile @sweetcheeksdna (I can’t seem to tag you!) @hoodiebangtan

#bts x reader #bts fic #bts au #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #jin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #taehyung

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tayegi · 7 years

Text

New Rules Ch. 1 (m)

fratboy!Jungkook smut/angst

Word Count: 12,623

"Jeon Jungkook just friend requested me on facebook. Huh."

"What?" Your roommate snaps up in her seat, frozen for a split second, before she's rushing across the room to throw herself on your bed, "Are you serious?!"

You nod and numbly show her your laptop, where the little notification glows in the corner of your screen, "What does he want from me?"

"I have no clue," Mijoo says with genuine bewilderment, "Have you ever even spoken to him before?"

"He's in my writing seminar," you explain, "It's an 8 am class, so I see him about once every two weeks when he turns in assignments."

Mijoo's lips twitch at that description, "Typical Jeon."

"Yup. And I wouldn't have noticed either, but it's a small class, and the girls always go crazy preening themselves on the day our papers are due… I nearly suffocated in their perfume last time. Such a nuisance… Seriously, what does he want from me?"

"I really can't think of anything," Mijoo says as she scratches her head, "Have you posted a bikini photo recently?"

"Pssht. Not where my future employers can find me."

"Hmm. Maybe your profile photo has a lot of cleavage?"

"I'm wearing a raincoat!"

"Then I really don't know why he would've friended you."

The two of you frown at each other in mutual perplexity for a few seconds, before you shrug, "Oh well, who cares? I'm going to reject his friend request."

"Wait, what? ___, no!" Mijoo screeches, diving to grab your wrist before you can click the little "delete request" button.

"Huh? What's wrong?" You ask in confusion as you try to shake your hand out of her reach.

"You can't just reject Jeon Jungkook's friend request!"

"What? Why not? Should I block him too?"

"No! What's wrong with you?!" She exclaims in distress.

"What do you mean?" you ask, taken aback by her dramatic reaction.

"This is the Jeon Jungkook, ___. Aka youngest member of the varsity soccer team and the hottest guy in beta tau sigma—potentially the hottest guy in the entire Greek system. How could you possibly not accept his friend request?!"

"When have you cared about something as superficial as that?" You complain as you attempt to reach for the keypad again, "So what? Big whoop."

But Mijoo screeches like a banshee and tackles you onto the bed when you try to reject again, "I'm not joking, ___, you have to accept! What if this is your chance with him? Jungkook doesn't go around friending any old girl."

"I bet he does," you grumble, "It says here that he has over a thousand facebook friends."

"Still, this could be your chance!"

"I don't want a chance with him! I don't want to catch whatever nasty diseases he reeks of."

"___, come on!" Mijoo is practically whining at this point, "Think of all the cool beta tau sigma parties we'll be invited to!"

"When have I ever given a fuck about frat— wait… oh my god…" you gasp, eyes widening as you suddenly realize your best friend's motivation, "You're only interested because of Park Jimin!"

"Hmm? Jimin? What about him?" She coyly feigns obliviousness.

"Don't you try to lie to me. Everyone knows that Jimin and Jungkook are practically joined at the hip."

"Oh are they?" She continues to play pretend, "I didn't notice."

"Bullshit!" you cry out, "Who the fuck do you think you're kidding, woman? Can you get more obvious without tattooing 'Park Jimin' on your ass? It's obvious he owns it anyways."

Mijoo flushes at that and instantly dives across the bed to lunge for you, "Shut up!" She exclaims, trying to strangle you with her dainty hands while you roll around howling with laughter. "Ugh! You're so immature!"

"And you're about as subtle as a flying brick," you chortle, "Mijoo and Jimin sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n—"

"Oh my god!" She shrieks, jumping on you to slap a hand over your mouth, "Someone might hear you! How are you so ridiculously immature?!"

You giggle at her embarrassment, and quickly loop your arms around her neck to calm her down, "Okay, I'll accept his request."

"It's okay if you don't," Mijoo huffs, ego clearly bruised by your teasing, "I really couldn't care one way or the other."

"Too late, I already accepted!" You brightly exclaim as you hit the little button. Then your face abruptly drops, "Mijoo… Why does this kid have so many shirtless selfies?!"

Hey.

You stare at the single word on your screen for a long time, trying to make sense of the three little characters. Why would Jeon Jungkook send you this a mere ten minutes after you accepted his friend request? It's almost like he was waiting for your response…

Should you respond back? Or wait for Mijoo to get back from class? She literally just walked out the sorority's front door a minute ago. It wouldn't be too late to chase after her… But you don't want her to stress over such a little thing. She's highstrung enough as it is. No, the logical course of action is to just wait for Mijoo to come home and give you guidance.

Um… you there?

You frown in disapproval, surprised by the audacity of this practical stranger to double message you, when you realize that Jungkook can see if you've read his messages. Cold sweat slides down your spine at the thought of leaving Jimin's best friend on read. Forget waiting for Mijoo. She'll forgive you later.

Yeah, you quickly type back, what's up?

I've just seen you around my writing seminar… And I was just wondering if you knew when the poetry assignment was due?

Your brow furrows. Is he just beating around the bush right now? Or does he actually want the assignment? Oh. It's due next week.

Really? K. thanks.

You pause again as you re-read his casual response. What do you do now? How can you possibly salvage this situation and spark up a conversation that will hopefully lead to Mijoo and Jimin? But it seems hopeless at this point, unless you ask straight up and embarrass Mijoo. Sighing with disappointment, you send him a lackluster thumb's up emoji.

After a second, you see that he's read your response. Shrugging, you're about to log out of facebook and open up your homework for the night, when you suddenly see three dots pop up on the bottom of the chat box followed by a Jungkook is typing…

Pleasantly surprised, you abandon all thoughts of homework as you flop to a more comfortable position on your belly, curious to see what he might say. Clearly, he's not interested in the homework. His absence since the start of the semester was evidence enough. He's also trying to play cupid, but both of you are too awkward to say it outright.

Hey, idk about you, but this poetry assignment makes no sense to me. Wanna meet up and talk about it?

You snort at the audacity of his words. It sounds like he's asking you out. Anyone else would spend some time skirting around the issue, out of respect for you, and embarrassment about any potential rejection. But this fuckboi clearly isn't used to any woman saying no to him. You're tempted to reject his offer, just for vindictive satisfaction. But, alas, you must do this for your beloved Mijoo.

Sure. You message him back, every bit as nonchalant in tone as he is. Just tell me the time and place.

The next day, you find yourself sitting at a café by yourself, idly swirling your spoon around in your cappuccino as you glance at the clock for the hundredth time. Jeon Jungkook is late… as expected. It's your fault really for expecting the fuckboi to show up on time on a Friday morning. You'd be surprised if he showed at all. BTS is notorious for their thirsty Thursday parties after all…

You're about to resign yourself to your unfortunate fate and pack up your things for the day when a handsome, dark-haired man suddenly bursts in on the scene. Heads turn in interest at his approach in the small café, then lower again in disappointment when it becomes obvious that he's with you.

"Sorry I'm late," Jungkook greets you with a disarming smile as he slips into the seat across from you.

You moodily stir your lukewarm coffee as you try to choke back your feelings of annoyance. With that face of his, this kid probably thinks he can get away with anything. You'd love to teach him a lesson, but now is neither the time nor place for that. "It's fine," you say through gritted teeth.

"There was a huge clean-up effort at the beta tau sigma house," Jungkook explains as he flags down the waiter for an Americano, "It took us hours to get all the foam out of the living room… It was seriously wild," he laughs.

It's like this kid is a walking cliché of the world's most basic fuckboi. And of course, he doesn't seem the least bit hungover. "Hmm," you say, feigning interest as you take a sip of your coffee, "That sounds cool."

"It really was. You should've come."

"Ah, I wasn't invited."

"Really? Ok, here's me inviting you for next time."

Is this guy really so loose with his invitations that he'd freely allow a practical stranger in his house? "Thanks," you politely smile, "I might just take you up on that offer."

"Yeah, anytime. And if you have any friends who want to tag along, you're all more than welcome… You have a roommate, right?"

Ah, here it comes… "Yeah, Mijoo," you say.

"Oh right. That's her name. You should bring her as well," he smoothly says, as though he honestly thought you were too stupid to catch on.

"Right. I will."

There's a moment of awkward silence as the two of you smile stiffly at each other. Then Jungkook clears his throat loudly and busies himself with digging through his bag, "So, about that poetry assignment… Um… It's pretty easy, huh?"

You raise an eyebrow, "I thought you said you didn't get it?" You could've made this easy for him and played along with his pretenses… But you were getting a little fed up and wanted to cut this short.

"Oh… right… Er—it seems easy, but it's actually confusing…" He says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

"How is it confusing?" you ask, placing more pressure on the young man with morbid curiosity.

"You know how poetry is… With the rhyming and all that jazz."

"Jungkook… You do know the assignment is free verse rhyme, right?"

There's a beat of silence where he stares at you with wide eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights. Clearly, he's not used to people calling him out on his bluffs, and he doesn't know how to react.

So you simply roll your eyes, "Alright, cut the bullshit, Jeon. I know you didn't ask me here to talk about free verse poetry."

Jungkook gulps, "Ah… you knew?"

"You're not very subtle… But that's an issue for another day. So how are we going to get Mijoo and Jimin together?"

The handsome young man visibly relaxes at your words, all the tension immediately dissipating from his rigid posture, "Oh thank god," he sighs deeply, slumping over on the table in relief.

You laugh at his dramatic reaction, "When you messaged me so out of the blue, I thought for sure you wanted to strategize to get them together. But instead, you kept beating around the bush."

"I should've just come clean… The best friend of your best friend's crush," Jungkook wryly comments, "Guess we're partners in crime for this?"

"Yep. This timid flirting shit has been going on for too damn long. I'll blow my brains next time Mijoo stresses about one of Jimin's ambiguous texts."

"Dude. You do not even want to hear about the shit I go through whenever Mijoo decides to hug him or smile especially cutely or whatever crap at him. He goes on these long rants where he basically just argues with himself for hours. It's like a one-man filibuster."

You snort at the description, "Tell me about it. I just bought new noise-canceling headphones. Something needs to be done."

"Agreed. Do you have any ideas of what we can do?"

You stop to think for a moment. "…You got any more of those foam parties?"

The next weekend, you and Jungkook set your plan into motion. It's simple to the point of absurdity: you'll get the two of them drunk, then lock them in an enclosed space. Easy, peasey, case closed…

Except you didn't expect Mijoo to put up such a struggle.

"Pleaseee, Mijoo?" you whine, draping yourself all over her.

Your roommate simply flips a page in her book, "Not tonight," she tells you, "I'm really not in the mood."

"Oh, come on," you complain, "We didn't do anything this whole week!"

"Hmm. Wanna go catch a movie or something then?" She asks.

"No, I want to go the party! Why go to a boring old movie when we can dance and get free drinks?"

At that, Mijoo looks up in surprise, "I thought you were just kidding when you said you wanted to go to a BTS party, but you're serious?"

"Of course!" you exclaim, trying to play it cool, "It sounds fun."

"Really? A frat party sounds fun to you, miss ice queen?"

A bead of sweat rolls down your spine, "Uh… Yes…?"

At this, Mijoo slams her book down and turns to give you her full, undivided attention, "You want to go to a frat party? Wearing an uncomfortable, skintight dress with your face covered in makeup? Surrounded by gross fuckbois who'll stare at you like a piece of meat? Really?"

"… I'll wear pants."

Mijoo shakes her pretty head and laughs, "No, babe. If you're dragging me to this, I get to pick what you wear."

You consider it for a few moments. It is so tempting to call this off and delve in bed for the rest of the night. But you've got to do this for her own sake. "…Fine," you finally sigh, "But I get to do my own makeup."

"Only if you partner with me for beer pong."

Your face falls, "Kim Mijoo, you know as fucking well as I do that beer pong is just an excuse for gross little fuckbois to stroke their egos in such an inane competition and get defenseless girls drunk!"

Mijoo presses a finger to your lips to shut you up, "Shh. Just tell me right now if you'll accept my conditions… I refuse to go out with you tonight unless you wear one of my dresses and play beer bong with me."

On any other day, you would've kicked her ass for such ridiculous requests. But at that moment, your phone buzzes. You glance down at the screen and aren't surprised to find yet another text from Jungkook: Where the hell r u?

You turn back to Mijoo and choke down your dignity, "Ok, I'll do it."

Your roommate's eyes bulge at your unexpected submission, "Seriously, what has gotten into you?! Why are you acting so weird?"

"W-weird?" you stutter, palms slippery with sweat when it becomes apparent that she's catching on, "How so?"

But at that moment, your phone starts buzzing again. This time, you can't hide as quickly and Mijoo gasps out loud when she reads the name flashing across the screen. "Jungkook…? ___, why is Jeon Jungkook calling you right now?"

Fuck! How did you get found out so quickly? This is almost pathetic. "I… I can explain!" you stammer.

But Mijoo simply shakes her head, practically trembling with anger, "___, I cannot fucking believe you! I am your best friend!"

"I'm sorry!" you exclaim, rushing up to beg her for forgiveness, "I was doing this for your sake!"

"Really? How the fuck is lying to me about your relationship with Jeon Jungkook for my sake?!"

"I'm really sorry! I just—wait… what?"

"I seriously cannot believe you, bitch!" She exclaims, "How long have the two of you been fucking?"

"We… we… what?"

"You should've told me as soon as it happened," she whines, childishly slapping you in the side, "I knew he wouldn't have facebooked you for no reason!"

"I… I'm sorry, Mijoo," you awkwardly say, "I was just… embarrassed?" And that part isn't a lie.

"It's fine," she gruffly says, "I forgive you… But the next time you keep something from me, I'll kick your ass, got it?"

You hurriedly nod your head, "Yes, ma'am!"

"Good. Now let me go raid Jisoo's closet," she says, mentioning the sorority president.

"Wait, Jisoo?" you ask in surprise, "Why?"

"She went shopping last weekend and bought this incredible new leather dress… This is Jeon Jungkook we're talking about, babe. If you want more than just a one-night stand, then my silly old dresses aren't going to cut it. We're gonna need something sluttier."

You somehow stifle the urge to gag and force a smile instead, "You first, honey."

"Jungkook!" you cry out when you spot him lounging around the bar area, pouring himself a shot. He nearly spills the alcohol all over himself in surprise when you abruptly swing your arms around his neck in an uncharacteristic display of affection. "She thinks we're fucking," you hiss into his ear.

"What?" he whispers back, flinching under your rough embrace.

"Just play along!"

And then you step back with a forced laugh, "It's so good to see you again. Jungkook, this is my roommate, Mijoo. Mijoo this is my… uh… classmate, Jungkook."

"Nice to meet you," Jungkook says, politely taking her hand.

"You as well. I've heard… so much about you," Mijoo says with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Is that so?" Jungkook awkwardly scratches the back of his head, "Only good things, I hope?"

Mijoo simply smirks, "I'm sure ___ will tell you all about it later… Doesn't she look great tonight?"

"Huh? What—oh," his eyes widen when he looks down and takes in your appearance for the first time. You stiffen under his scrutiny as he suddenly rakes his eyes up and down your figure. You're wearing that ridiculous skintight leather minidress borrowed from Jisoo, and your face flushes with heat when Jungkook's eyes dip to your cleavage for a second too long. He smiles when his eyes meet yours again, "She looks incredible."

Mijoo looks like that cat that ate the canary, the way she beams at the two of you, "I'll give you two a minute to talk…"

"Wait no!" You and Jungkook both shout out at the same time.

The pretty brunette girl jumps in surprise, "Uh… What's up?"

You freeze, but luckily Jungkook comes to your rescue, "You need to take a shot!" He blurts out, "House rules."

Mijoo looks a bit baffled, but smiles, nevertheless, "Oh, ok sure."

Jungkook quickly snags the bottle off the table to pour a round of shots. You smile and clink your glass against theirs in an obligatory fashion, but your eyes are rapidly scanning the room for an excuse to keep her here. You barely taste the cheap vodka as you knock it back, and it nearly comes shooting out of your nose as you notice your salvation with a cry of excitement.

"Ah! Let's play beer pong!" you exclaim, pointing excitedly at the red solo cups stacked on a long table in the center of the room.

"That's a great idea!" Jungkook agrees, catching onto your idea, "I'll grab a couple of beers."

As soon as he's gone, you grab onto Mijoo's sleeve, holding her in place, "Play with us."

"What?" her eyes widen, "But don't you want to play with him alone?"

You shake your head, "It'd be more fun if we played with partners."

"Oh… well, okay. But I don't have a partner…"

"Just give me a minute," you say, then run into the kitchen after Jungkook. He's kneeling at the foot of the fridge, loading beer cans in his arms, and relaxes at the sight of you.

"Good thinking with the beer pong," he says as he hands you a few cans, "We've gotta keep her here, no matter what it takes."

"When is Jimin coming?"

"Our dispenser broke last week, so he's on an ice run with some guys," Jungkook says, anxiously checking his phone, "By the way… What are you wearing?"

"Ah, Mijoo bullied me into it," you say, tugging at the short hem of the leather with spite, "It was the only way I could convince her to go!"

"Well, please thank her for me."

You shoot him a dirty look, "Pervert."

"What? I'm just stating a fact. You look good." Jungkook licks his lips as his eyes peruse the length of your body again, "Really good."

"Yah, my eyes are up here," you complain, grabbing him by the chin and forcing his gaze up. "Stop getting distracted, Casanova. Where is your roommate?"

"I don't know what's taking him so long," Jungkook frowns, "He should be back any—oh thank fucking god," he curses in relief when the front door opens up, revealing a handsome blonde man struggling with a bag of ice.

Jungkook runs forward to plop the beers on the table, then grabs Jimin by the collar of the shirt to haul him forward, "There you are, bro!" He exclaims loudly, "Thank god you're back! We need a fourth player for beer pong."

"Wait, Jungkook, the ice! I need to—" But his voice trails off when he sees Mijoo standing at one end of the table. "O-oh. Mijoo. I didn't know you were going to be here. Hi."

His awkward bow has Mijoo automatically bowing back, and the gesture is so out of place at a crowded frat party that it's laughable. Jungkook seems at a loss for what to do, so you hurry over to rescue him.

"Oi, Jimin!" You greet him with over the top enthusiasm, "What a coincidence running into you! How are you?"

"Great. I'm just—"

"Here to save us in our predicament?" you answer for him, "Bless you, Jimin! We really appreciate it!"

"W-what? I didn't—"

"Awesome!" Jungkook shouts out, "Jimin, be a bro and start setting up those cups over there with Mijoo. ___ and I can take it on this side."

"Wait, don't you want to partner with me, ___?" Mijoo calls out in confusion from the other end of the table.

"Nah, you girls always do that," Jungkook shrugs her off, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, "Why don't we mix things up?"

"That's a great idea, Jungkook!" you say with unnecessary fervor, "Since we just so happen to be standing next to each other right now, why don't we partner up?"

"Yeah, that seems convenient," he agrees, playing up your ploy, "So Jimin, do you mind partnering with Mijoo so she's not on her own?"

What kind of jerk would he look like if he refused? Jimin instantly nods his head up and down, "Yeah, that would be fine."

He hurries over to join Mijoo with another awkward bow, but even from where you stand, you can see the way his face lights up in the most radiant of smiles. And even when Mijoo turns her back to start filling the cups with beer, he continues to stare at her with an almost awestruck expression on his face.

Your heart tightens painfully in your chest. He looks so good tonight, with his honey blonde hair mused off his forehead and his navy shirt loosened a few buttons to reveal the smooth skin of his collarbones, creating a soft and effortless look. Mijoo, with her silky teal dress, matches him perfectly. She looks so unbelievably sweet and beautiful that it seems like the two of them have walked straight off the page of any fairytale storybook. They make such a beautiful couple.

A warm hand on your lower back makes you jerk back into reality. You look up to find Jungkook frowning at you, "Hey, you okay?"

You don't respond for a moment, blinking at the gorgeous pair across the table from you. But then the hand on your back crawls down lower. "Ah, Jungkook!" you screech, jumping away from him to slap his wandering hand off of your ass.

The dark-haired man looks genuinely puzzled by your reaction, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" You spit back at him, "You just grabbed my ass!"

"I thought you said you told everyone we were sleeping together," he says with a raised eyebrow, "I'm just trying to keep up the act."

His explanation does make sense… Though you highly suspect him of ulterior motives. "Fine," you reluctantly relent, "But don't squeeze it!"

"Of course not," he easily agrees, "I would never treat a work of art with such disrespect," and to emphasize his words, he slides his hand over the curve of your ass again.

You roll your eyes, "Gross." But nevertheless, you allow him to keep his hand put.

It doesn't go unnoticed by your competitors on the other side of the table. Jimin lets out a loud wolf whistle while Mijoo laughs heartily and shoots you a thumb's up, "Are you lovebirds ready?" She calls from across the table.

"Yep! Get ready to drink your heart out, roomie!" you yell back.

Jimin laughs, "What's the bet?"

You turn to whisper in Jungkook's ear, "We have to get them drunk."

"Alright. But let's make it sexy, too."

"Body shots?"

"I like the way you think, babe."

"Alright, it's settled!" you exclaim, breaking out of your impromptu huddle with Jungkook to address your competitors, "Loser has to take a body shot off their partner!"

"Wait, what?" Jimin calls back in surprise.

"___! We're already drinking a shit ton of beer!" Mijoo complains loudly.

Jungkook sticks his tongue out at them, "You scared, children?"

Jimin stiffens under the insult, "No way. You're on! But winner gets to set up the shots."

"Perfect. I'm going to stick a shot glass up her vagina for Jimin to get to," you whisper in Jungkook's ear.

He blinks once, "You are kind of disgusting… I think I like you."

"Since you lovebirds are so distracted, I guess we'll go first," Mijoo calls out with a laugh.

"Bring it on, little girl!" You yell back.

She shoots you a dirty look before tossing the pingpong ball… The splashing sound of the ball hitting the beer in the cup makes the smile slide off your face. Mijoo whoops with excitement and happily high-fives a beaming Jimin.

Your heart drops to your stomach, "Jungkook, please tell me you're good at this game…"

"I'm the undefeated champ of BTS!" He proudly exclaims, "Don't worry, babe. We've got this."

You hesitantly smile back, "Alright. If you say so…"

Less than fifteen minutes later, you're horrified to find a single cup hovering on the edge of your side of the table while half a dozen remain on Mijoo and Jimin's side.

"I thought you were a beer pong champ," you angrily hiss at Jungkook.

"Hey! I made four of the shots!"

"And missed the other seven."

He glares at you, "And how many did you make, princess?"

You scowl back, "Yeah, but I didn't claim to be a beer pong god, now did I?"

"Stop it. You're making me lose my focus," he says as he squints at the row of red solo cups, pingpong ball in hand.

"Who cares? There's no way you can get six cups in a row while they get none. It's over, kid."

"Will you just shut up?" He gripes, dropping his hand to his side as he turns to face you.

Across the table, Mijoo and Jimin heartily boo him, "Just give it up, Jeon!"

"You guys suck!"

"I don't!" Jungkook defends himself, "___ is just bringing me down!"

You glower at that, "When we lose, I'm going to make you take the shot out of my asshole."

"You know I'd only enjoy that, sweet cheeks."

Your mouth drops in indignation, "Jeon Jungkook!"

But he's already turned back to your competition with faux swagger, "Hey guys, have you ever heard of the movie The Comeback Kid?" He cockily calls out.

Jimin and Mijoo exchange a perplexed look, "The what?"

Jungkook's mouth curls into an arrogant smile as he aims for the circle of red solo cups remaining on their side of the table, "The Comeback—oh fuck!" He curses loudly as the pingpong ball hits the rim of the middle cup before bouncing away.

Jimin and Mijoo burst into laughter at his expense, "What was that?!"

The dark-haired man sheepishly rubs the back of his head, "That went more smoothly in my mind."

At his side, you bury your face in your hands and wail, "We're ruined!"

"Ok, it's my turn!" Mijoo cries out, "If I make this, then you guys lose."

"You're not going to make it," you shoot back, waving your hand back and forth in front of the remaining red solo cup on your side in an attempt to distract her, "You're going to choke, girl!"

"Choke, choke, choke!" Jungkook helpfully chants next to you.

Mijoo rolls her eyes, "You guys are so immature," and with that, she tosses the pingpong ball with a perfect flick of her wrist.

All four of you are dead silent as you watch the little white ball soar through the air in slow motion. The ball hits the rim for a moment, spinning…

Then it falls over and plops into the beer.

"I fucked up," Jungkook whispers in a small voice.

You can only groan softly in response as you pluck the pingpong ball out and down the remaining cup of beer, "You shouldn't have made her angry…"

On the other end, Mijoo and Jimin whoop with excitement and Jimin lifts your roommate straight off her feet to swing her in a wide circle in an impromptu victory celebration. Her exuberant peals of laughter echo in your mind. They both look so happy…

"Here's your lime," Jungkook interrupts your musing.

You take the slice from him with a sigh, "How did we fuck up so hard?"

"Hey, at least it seems like they're bonding."

"… Do you think they'll forget about us? I drank so much that I think my body is more beer than water at this point."

"No way. It looks like they're scheming right now," Jungkook says, pointing over to where Mijoo whispers conspiratorially into Jimin's ear while the blonde man looks at you guys and laughs.

"… We are so fucked."

And true to your prediction, minutes later, Jimin's laying his roommate out across the table while Mijoo happily sprinkles salt on his bare chest. The two of them had forcibly divested him of his shirt moments ago, while you hid behind a group of sorority sisters on the dance floor, wondering if it was too late to make your escape.

Unfortunately, before you can turn and run, Mijoo spots you squatting in the shadow of a tall blonde girl, and weaves between the bodies on the dance floor to drag you out.

"Hurry, ___," Jimin laughingly calls you over, "Jungkook's probably really uncomfortable right now."

Still, you can't help but drag your feet as you reluctantly join them, "This is ridiculous," you grumble to yourself, "We're causing a scene!"

"Don't be a sore loser," Mijoo chides you, "This was your idea!"

"Yeah, but that's because I thought we would win!"

"Oh, come on, ___. Don't be like this," Jungkook complains loudly, "You should consider yourself lucky right now," he says, emphasizing his words with a flex of his abs.

You roll your eyes and shove the slice of lime in his mouth to shut him up, "Yeah yeah, whatever, pervert. Mijoo, hand me the shot." But she simply shakes her head and giggles. Frowning at her strange behavior, you turn to Jimin instead, "Yah. Gimme the tequila already so we can get this over with."

"Of course," Jimin sweetly obliges and takes the bottle to begin pouring. But to your utmost horror, he doesn't aim for the shot glass in your hand, but instead, the tawny skin of Jungkook's stomach.

Your jaw hangs as you watch the smooth amber liquid trickle to collect at his belly button and the muscled crevices of his abs. "You motherfuckers!"

"You better drink it all up or we'll pour out another one," Mijoo sweetly informs you, "And next time, we'll be taking off his pants."

"No, no, this is fine!" You hastily wave your hands at her, "Thank you for your generosity…" And then you make your way to stand at Jungkook's side, trying to ignore the way Mijoo and Jimin giggle and whisper amongst themselves as they watch you. Mijoo's probably filled Jimin's mind with nonsense about your nonexistent relationship with Jungkook… This whole scheme is failing miserably.

"Hurry and do it," Jungkook mumbles around a mouthful of lime.

You glare at him as you shove his legs apart to stand between them. Despite your best intention, he looks incredibly good half-naked and spread out for you, and you can't help the way your mouth waters. Of course this cocky fuckboi just had to have the body of a greek god. Fucking typical.

Sighing deeply, you lean down and demurely pick up a lick of salt from his clavicle using just the tip of your tongue… But then there's the overflowing tequila to take care of. Most of it is pooled in his belly button, which you quickly suck up. But there's plenty left spilled across his abs and trickling down the sides. Fuck you, Mijoo, you curse her bitterly in your head as you begin suckling lightly at his skin, trying your best to keep from using your tongue. But it's really hard to keep your concentration when his delicious abdominal muscles keep clenching underneath your light touch… You've never been in such close proximity to such defined abs before. It's fucking unfair.

You quickly finish up, wincing at the acidic taste of tequila in your mouth, then lean down to snag the lime from Jungkook's mouth. Mijoo and Jimin cheer you on the entire time, shouting at you to kiss him. Luckily, you aren't as drunk as you had feared, and you manage to successfully sink your teeth into the fruit without brushing his lips at all.

You pull back after a second and irritably spit the lime slice into your hand, "There, all done. Are you happy?"

The two of them seem disappointed by the clinical nature of the body shot. "Wait, Jungkook still has to do his!" Mijoo suddenly pipes up, expression brightening again.

Your beer pong partner slides off the table while slowly pulling his shirt back on, "I don't think ___ would be as pleased if you stripped her bare in front of everyone," he wryly comments, "Not that I'd mind, of course."

"Don't worry," Mijoo grins as she grabs your hand to shove you against the table, "I have an idea…"

A second later, Jimin is rubbing salt against the curve of your neck while Mijoo critically examines your cleavage, looking for the best spot to put the alcohol.

"Would you be really mad at me if I poured this all over your boobs?"

"Do you want to die?" you darkly mutter.

"Try her ass instead," Jungkook oh-so-helpfully pipes up.

You turn to chew him out as well, but at that moment, Jimin strokes his fingers through your hair, trying to brush off a bit of salt that has ended up there, and your voice dies in your throat at the feeling of his gentle fingers caressing your skull.

"The salt isn't sticking," he mumbles, mostly to himself. Then, to your surprise, he licks his fingers to moisten them, and smooths them under your jaw. The sensitive skin there immediately breaks into goosebumps, and you pray that the blonde man doesn't notice when he sprinkles on the salt.

"Ok, I guess we'll just have to deal with it here," Mijoo sighs as she gives up and sticks the shot glass between your breasts.

You're still too distracted by Jimin's fingers in your hair to pay any attention to the situation until Jungkook roughly shoves the blonde man aside, "Thanks for preparing her." And then he descends upon you, lips latching onto your neck with no preamble.

You gasp softly at the feeling of his hot mouth against your hyper-aroused skin. Unlike you, he has no sense of propriety as he greedily lays open-mouthed kisses against your neck, sucking harder than necessary to pick up the small scattering of salt. A hickie will surely form by the morning as an incessant reminder of this failed night.

"What are you doing, Jeon?" you groan when his mouth drifts too high, snagging your earlobe between his teeth and gently nipping in a way that has unspeakable sensations coursing down your spine.

"Hmm?" He flicks his tongue against your thoroughly bruised neck one last time before trailing kisses down your collarbones to your cleavage instead, where the shot glass nestles between your breasts.

Embarrassment colors your face red when you realize that Mijoo and Jimin are watching with identical pervy grins on their faces. Mijoo has been trying to get you laid since Freshman year, so her behavior is as you would have expected, but not Jimin's. When you first met the blonde man in your econ project group last year, you would've never imagined the kind, sincere man to be cheering on his fuckboi roommate as he messily slurps around your cleavage. You have no right to feel this way, but still, your heart sinks to your stomach.

At that moment, Jungkook pulls away from your chest to knock back the rest of the shot. He noisily smacks his lips before focusing his eyes on the lime slice in your mouth. You recognize that hungry expression on his face all too well, and move your head away right as he attacks. As a result, his lips only brush yours in the slightest of kisses before you pull back, leaving Jungkook to suck on the sour slice of fruit in annoyance.

"I want a rematch," you demand at once.

"Are you sure, ___?" Jimin laughs, "You only made one cup last time."

"That was just the practice round," you brush him off, "This is for real now."

"Well, I'm not sure if it's worth the trouble," Mijoo says, pretending to yawn, "It's so boring if we win every time."

Your eyes narrow at her cocky attitude, "Why? You scared you'll get beat this time?"

She raises an eyebrow, "Not in the least."

"Fine. Then care to make another wager?"

"Sure. But this time, we get to pick the punishment."

"Oh, you're so on."

"But let me warn you, roomie: this time, the punishment will be twice as bad… Still care to play with us? Even though it's obvious the two of you will lose?" Mijoo asks, eyeing you and Jungkook unimpressed.

You hesitate, suddenly nervous about the ordeal. It would obviously make more sense to change the game to something you and Jungkook have a chance at winning. But before you can pitch this idea, Jungkook suddenly jumps to action.

"That's a great idea!"

Unsurprisingly, you find yourself locked in a closet with Jungkook less than half an hour later, two shots of tequila resting on the ground between you.

"This fucking sucks."

"You didn't make a single cup this time, ___... How is it possible that you got even worse?" Jungkook quips as he folds his long legs underneath himself in the cramped space.

You flinch when his legs brush yours, "I was counting on you, partner."

"Well, we definitely failed… Do you think they're at least bonding by laughing at us?"

"I never knew you were a silver linings kind of guy, Jungkook," you say with a wry smile.

"Hey, you've gotta make the best of what you have… speaking of which… since everyone thinks we're making out in here anyways… Do you think we should just—?"

"No."

"Buzzkill," Jungkook sighs before checking his phone for the time, "We still have six minutes to go. How am I supposed to kill the time then?"

"Silent reflection on all your past misdoings?" You sarcastically offer.

"Somehow I feel like making out would be a lot more fun," he says as he slowly runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Do you only ever think with your dick?" you groan, "You definitely weren't like this when we met up at the coffee shop. Otherwise I would've never proposed this team up! What happened to you?"

"To me? I think you mean what happened to you. You definitely were not this hot when we met up two days ago. Trust me. I would've noticed."

"Men are such simple creatures," you roll your eyes, "All it takes is a bit of makeup and cleavage, and you're drooling all over yourselves."

"What, am I supposed to lie and say that I'm seduced by your charming personality?" Jungkook snorts, "It's not like I'm asking for your hand in marriage here, sweetheart."

"Well, at least you're honest," you say with a ghost of a smile on your face, "You're a bit better than all the other fuckbois."

"I'm way better," he insists, indignant at the comparison, "I won't feed you lies and lead you on just to get in your pants. I'm upfront about what I want."

"And what exactly is that?"

He flashes you a brilliant smile that has you momentarily reeling, "To have a good time."

"Gross," you say, but you can't help but laugh.

He takes that as a good sign and pushes forward to test his luck, "I'm going to be blunt, ___. You look fucking hot in that dress and I'm incredibly attracted to you. If you wanna have a bit of fun tonight, then I promise I won't let you down."

You don't doubt his words. Jeon Jungkook is infamous, not only among his frat brothers, but across the entire campus for his alleged sexual prowess. And even if he wasn't great in bed, well, he's gorgeous. You saw how he looked shirtless, with his abs glistening from the liquid pooling across his stomach and chest. You'd be lucky to even lay your hands on this god-like man.

You shake your head with a laugh and press a shot of tequila to his hand, "Shut up and drink your shot."

Jungkook sighs deeply as he accepts the drink, "I'm disappointed, but not surprised. I'm not your type, am I?"

You watch as he knocks back the drink with a smack of his lips. He clearly has experience in drinking the harsh, astringent alcohol. "How could you tell?" You pick up your own shot glass, only to realize that there's nothing in the small supply closet to chase it down with, "Damn, do you have a chaser or something?"

But as you search around the closet, Jungkook suddenly reaches over to snatch the shot glass from your hand. Before you can question him, he slams your shot of tequila back as well. You watch his thick adam's apple bob in his throat in bewilderment, "Hey, what was that for?"

Jungkook winces as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand then tosses the empty glass aside, "You've been drinking a lot, ___. Don't want you to get too wasted."

"I'm only buzzed," you complain, "What is this sudden bout of consideration? You're not seriously trying to pretend to be a gentleman, are you?"

"Nope. I just don't want you drunk… So you'll be in the right mindset to give me consent at the end of the night," he says, emphasizing his bold statement with a smug grin.

Your jaw drops, "You cocky ass motherfucker!"

He laughs at your dramatic response, "Yeah, yeah. I know what you're going to say. It's never gonna happen because I'm not your type, huh?"

"Damn right."

"Well, since your roommate is snatching up Jimin, it looks like I'm all you have left."

Your blood runs cold at his unexpected statement, "Wait… what did you say?"

"Jimin," Jungkook repeats, cocking his head to the side as he examines your reaction, "He's your type, isn't he?"

"What would make you say that?" You ask in a subdued voice, trying your best not to reveal any emotion.

"I saw the way you were looking at him. Like you wanted to eat him up… It's the same way I look at you, probably," he laughs, "He's totally your style."

"Park Jimin is cute and extremely kind," you admit in a quiet voice, "But my best friend likes him. So it's pointless to dwell upon the impossible."

"Huh… So you like the cute type? I can be cute, too," Jungkook insists with a little pout.

The breath that you had been holding whooshes out at once. You can't help but laugh at his statement, "You don't know how to give up, do you?"

He grins back, about to offer an undoubtedly perverted response, when the door suddenly bursts open, "Surpriseee—oh wait. Mijoo, they're not fooling around."

"What?!" Your roommate bounces up to glance over Jimin's shoulder in surprise, "What the hell guys?!"

You irritably rise to your feet before pulling Jungkook along with you, "Come on, let's get out of here. I need another drink." Then you rudely brush between the two of them and haul Jungkook by the hand to the bar.

The frat party is in full swing at this point, every inch and crevice of the house jammed to the max with people, making it almost impossible to move. To conserve space, Jungkook molds himself to your backside, hands splayed on your hips to guide you. "Ugh, there's too many people here," you say in annoyance, "I bet you're all out of alcohol too."

"Yeah, probably… Wait, I know! Jimin and I have a stash in our room."

You glance over your shoulder to flash him a look of suspicion, "This isn't just an excuse to get me alone in your room, is it?"

"Of course not! How could you possibly think that of me?" Jungkook asks, clutching his chest in faux indignation, "… though if you did want to do something other than drink, I wouldn't complain…"

"Shut up, playboy, and get me a drink."

"Yes, ma'am."

Moments later, the two of you sit side by side on his bed, sipping lukewarm beers, as you try to re-strategize.

"Are you any good at card games?" You ask Jungkook.

"I have the worst luck," he says, "What about something more simple? Truth or dare?"

"I think they'd see through our ruse at once," you sigh, "What about quarters?"

"If you can't bounce a pingpong ball, I highly doubt you can bounce a quarter," Jungkook laughs.

You bristle at that, "Fine, you got any hot ideas then, beer pong champ?"

"Things are getting pretty heated on the dance floor," he says, peeking out of the half-open door, "We should get them to grind together."

"Mijoo can't dance for shit," you sigh, "We're ruined… And now the whole world is going to think that we're fucking."

"You say it like that's a bad thing," he retorts.

"It is. I don't want to be seen as easy… In fact… If anyone catches us in here, they might get the wrong idea…" and with that, you get up to close the door.

"___, wait!" Jungkook calls out, grabbing you by the wrist before you can get up.

You look down at him in confusion, "What?"

"Don't shut the door! Are you crazy?"

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"Wait… Do you seriously not know how these doors work?" He asks, staring at you incredulously.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, now it's becoming clear that you're not used to the frat scene… ___, all the houses on this row were constructed in the early 1900s. Most of the infrastructure has been reinforced, but there are some parts of the houses that are completely untouched."

"Yeah. So what?"

"That means these doors are from like 1920."

"So are they messed up? Do they not work?"

"They do, but they're just weird. For the bedrooms, they lock from the outside."

"From the outside? Really?"

Jungkook nods his head, "Yeah. That's why during a large party like this, we've got to be more careful. Who knows what kind of drunk people could stumble around, messing with the door knobs? We could accidentally get locked in. It's happened more than enough times."

"Isn't there a key?"

"There's a master key with Namjoon," he says, referencing the frat president, "But it's so noisy in here, it could take hours before anyone finds out that someone's trapped."

"Ah, ok. Thanks for warning me, then. I don't know what I'd do if we were stuck here together for hours," you say with a shiver of disgust.

"Hmm. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad…" Jungkook thoughtfully muses, "We'd be so bored, we'd have no choice but to hook up…"

You glance at him warily, "Don't get any ideas in that filthy mind of yours, Jeon."

"Of course not," he sweetly replies, "But you have to admit that getting locked up here together seems like the perfect setup to any ridiculous chick flick… hey wait a minute…" he says, a frown forming on his handsome face as a new thought occurs to him.

The epiphany hits you at almost the precise same time. Your eyes widen comically and you dive forward to grab Jungkook's hand, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Jimin, Mijoo, you guys have got to see this!" Jungkook exclaims, ushering them up the stairs.

"Wait what? Jungkookie, what's going on?" Jimin asks in utter bewilderment.

"No time to explain, just hurry!"

"___?" Mijoo calls your name in confusion, "What's this about?"

But you hurriedly shush her and push her forward with both hands, "Shush, I'll explain later!" And with that, you and Jungkook forcibly throw your roommates into the bedroom.

"Why are we here, Jungkook?" Jimin asks, glancing around their shared bedroom in confusion.

But Jungkook only grins devilishly at the older man. "Sorry, Mijoo!" you yell out before you slam the door shut in their faces.

The two of them burst into hysterics at once, charging at the door and fumbling with the knob, but it doesn't budge. Through the wall, you can hear their angry curses and threats, but you and Jungkook hold firm.

"Wow, that was easy," you say as you high-five the dark-haired man.

"Yeah, we should've just done that from the start."

"Good job, partner in crime!" You beam. Then you pause. "Wait. Now what?"

Jungkook blinks twice before responding, "I don't know…"

"Huh… I guess we wait?" You suggest, awkwardly lowering to the ground to make yourself comfortable.

"I guess we do," Jungkook says, plopping to the ground as well and resting his back against the door.

"Oh, she's very creative with her insults," you remark as you listen to Mijoo liken your entire family lineage to swines, up to your ancestors' ancestors.

Jungkook is receiving the same treatment right next to you, "And how is being a beefcake an insult, Park Jimin?!"

"Come on, Jungkook," you say, offering him your hand, "Let's just leave them alone."

"Wait, what?!" Mijoo's muffled scream comes from behind the door, "If you dare fucking leave me trapped in here, I swear to god I'm going to fucking—"

But you and Jungkook have already walked away.

"Do you think it's been enough time?" you ask, half an hour and another failed game of beer pong, later.

Jungkook hiccups, clearly suffering from the backlash of one too many beers, before responding, "Probably not… They have months of sexual tension to work out… Knowing those nerds, they're probably going to talk about their feelings until dawn."

"Still, we should check on them," you say, gnawing on your bottom lip with concern, "What if something's happened to them?"

"Ah, it'll defeat the purpose if we let them escape now," Jungkook protests, "And they'll probably be too embarrassed to ever talk again."

"Ok, then we won't let them out. Just let me poke my head in there and make sure they're breathing, okay?" you persuade him.

"Alright… Fine," he reluctantly agrees, "But get ready to run as soon as they see us."

"I'm quick, don't worry," you assure him as the two of you climb up the stairs to the bedroom he shares with Jimin.

"Ok… But if Mijoo escapes and kicks your ass… I won't be held accountable."

You shoot him a dirty look, "Just worry about your own ass, Jeon. Jimin's a lot stronger than Mijoo… Speaking of which… Why aren't they fighting their way out?" You ask as you stop and press your ear to the door.

"Huh?" Confused, Jungkook leans over you to listen in as well, but he's also met with silence. "What do you think's going on in there?"

"No clue… They couldn't have escaped, right?"

"No way," Jungkook vehemently shakes his head, "And if they did, we wouldn't be alive right now."

"That's true," you say, pressing your ear closer to the wood, "Then what could they be doing? Do you think they fell asleep?"

"That's possible."

"Ok, I'm going to open the door a crack. Get ready to run, Jeon."

He nods, immediately sinking into a crouching position, "Got it."

You take a deep breath for strength, then slowly twist the lock on the handle, trying to make as little noise as possible as to not set the expecting couple on the other side off. You're almost positive that they're lurking on the other side of the door, just waiting for the opportune moment to spring. You gulp, then carefully twist the door knob open.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you push the door forward a few inches—just enough to get a glimpse of what lies within. Then your heart slides to an abrupt stop.

Mijoo and Jimin are sitting side by side on the bed. Her hands are demurely folded in her lap and his are bunched up in the bedding. There's a modest space between their bodies, and at first glance, one might mistake this as a platonic encounter. But there's no misinterpreting the way Jimin's plush pink lips caress Mijoo's in the sweetest of kisses.

If feels like your heart has dropped to your feet, and you stumble back a few steps, nearly crashing into an equally as shocked Jungkook.

"Holy fuck," he whispers, "These nerds are making out!"

You quickly slap a hand over Jungkook's mouth, terrified that he might disrupt them, "Shut up," you whisper, dragging him far away from your roommates.

"I can't believe our plan actually worked!" Jungkook exclaims as soon as you remove your hand from his mouth.

"Yeah," is your quiet response.

"Damn, we should've just done this in the first place!"

"Mm maybe."

"But seriously though. I would have never imagined these squares to make out in public without a marriage contract or something," he laughs, "Do you think they're gonna be an official thing soon?"

"Most likely," you say, barely paying attention to him anymore as you pull up your phone to call an uber.

"Wait, are you going somewhere, ___?" Jungkook asks, picking up on your distraction at once.

"Yeah. It looks like Mijoo's keeping herself busy, so I'll go home alone," you say, praying that you've managed to keep the bitterness out of your tone.

"Alright. Let's go then."

That unexpected statement makes you stop in your tracks, "What are you talking about? Jungkook, what makes you think that you're invited?"

He gives you a pointed look, "Are you forgetting that Jimin and I are roommates? I have nobly sacrificed my room to get my bro laid. And now I have nowhere to go. The least you can do is let me crash in your room."

You pause for a moment, "Won't there be empty room in this house?"

"During a party?" he snorts, "Good luck not stumbling across an orgy in every crevice."

"What about a couch?"

"Are you kidding me?! Look at those nasty kids dry humping on it right now," he says, wildly gesturing across the room, "What kind of diseases will I catch?!"

"Fine," you sigh, in no mood to argue with him for a moment longer, "But you're sleeping on the floor."

His irritation instantly dissipates as he smiles widely, "Fine by me."

"Don't you dare make a sound until we're in my room," you warn him outside the sorority house as you fish for your key.

"Doesn't everyone already think that we're hooking up?" he points out, "What's the big deal?"

"It's not everyone. Only Mijoo thinks so. I don't want to be the talk of the entire sorority."

"Why would this be such a scandal?" he continues to argue, "I haven't slept with anyone in this sorority! …Well… at least I don't think I have…" he pauses to scratch his head in confusion.

"See? This is exactly why I don't want those rumors about us to spread."

"And what's wrong with those rumors? It's the twenty-first century. Your worth as a woman isn't defined by your purity or whatever bullshit. And I'm not as bad as you make me out to be!"

You ignore him, "Just stay silent," you warn him, and with that, you unlock the door and pull him inside.

It's a little past two in the morning, so unsurprisingly, the sorority house is dark and as silent as a grave. This is in stark contrast with the obnoxious frat party with the overflowing beer kegs and the neon strobe lights, and you feel like you can finally breathe again. Rolling out your sore shoulders, you tiredly lead Jungkook up the stairs and into the room you share with Mijoo.

"Do you need to shower?" you ask Jungkook as you lock the door behind you.

"Yes, please! You didn't do that body shot very well, and I still have tequila all over my stomach. I should wash it off… Unless you want to-?"

You throw a towel in his face before he can complete his undoubtedly perverted sentence, "The bathroom's through that door on the right. You're lucky my suite mates are out of town this weekend. Or else you'd give everyone a heart attack."

"You girls get your own in-suite bathroom?" he repeats in shock, "Why did I rush BTS? I would happily be a sister for this luxury."

You're too worn out to dignify that with an answer, "My shower caddy is on the nightstand."

It's not until he's gone until you finally realize how alone you are. The beta tau sigma frat house was crammed with partiers and you couldn't hear your own voice over the obnoxiously loud music. The entire time, you were too busy running around with Jungkook trying to strategize to even collect your thoughts. But now… In the silent house with all your sorority sisters dead asleep…

Your ears ring with echoes of the booming music from the party, and the bitter taste of tequila lingers on your tongue, but you suddenly feel acutely sober. And in the empty room, all pent up emotions finally spill over. You roll over to bury your face in the pillows on your bed as you try to straighten out your unstable whirlwind of feelings.

For the past month, you've been thinking up of strategies to get Mijoo and Jimin together. You had thought that you matured—that your love for your best friend was stronger than any selfish concern for yourself. You had somehow convinced yourself of your own superiority over any petty human emotions. But unfortunately, you aren't the altruistic saint you wish you could be. You suffer from the same human emotions that plague everyone. And they aren't pretty.

The feeling that stands out the most is jealousy. The boy who you have liked for the past year… slipped between your fingers like sand. Not that you stood a chance. A man like Jimin… Such a genuine, loving soul. People like you don't deserve him. He's meant for goddesses like Mijoo. Girls who command the attention of any room they walk into. Girls who inspire art and ardent love songs. It's illogical for you to even feel jealous. You weren't even a player on the field—you were a stagehand, watching the play unfold from a distance and never able to join.

Despite what the artists and poets claim, the world works in a logical way. It's a simple mathematical formula. Girls like Mijoo end up with their princes. And you remain a bitter stepsister, helpless but to watch their happily ever after from a distance. One that you'll never achieve.

Jealousy is a powerful emotion, but not nearly as strong as anguish. Because this isn't Mijoo's fault. How could she have known that you had wanted Jimin since the moment you set eyes on him? How could she have imagined that a bitter wrench like yourself could desire something so above your level? It's not her fault that you weren't good enough… You're happy for her. You really are. She's your best friend and she deserves the best… But what about you?

The feeling of helplessness bubbles up your throat, and suddenly you can't breathe. The dress you've borrowed is too tight. The excessive makeup you've plastered on your face to pretend to be someone else, someone better, feels suffocating. You grab the wipes off your dresser and immediately start scrubbing at your face, wincing when salty tears flood the fabric along with your heavy makeup.

As soon as you finish, you gasp for air, then yank at the zipper on the back of your dress. It's not until the leather pools at your feet that you can breathe again.

And that's how Jungkook finds you, decked in just your underwear gasping for breath on your bed.

"Damn," he says, taken aback by the visuals, but unable to keep from checking you out, "Is this how you usually go to bed?"

Your head snaps up at his approach. He's standing in the middle of your room, shamelessly naked except for the towel slung haphazardly across his hips.

"Are you sure you want me to sleep on the floor?" he asks, running a hand through his wet hair so that beads of water slide down his collars to his prominent abdominal muscles, "You look awfully cold in that bed all by yourself, babe."

Your skin bristles at his sexually suggestive words. You had no issue brushing off his come-ons all evening. But now… with you in such a vulnerable position…

Here is a man who actually wants you. Not you, but your body, a little voice in the back of your head reminds you. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that someone might actually desire you… And not just anyone. This is the man that makes all the girls in your writing seminar giggle and whisper to themselves when he walks into the room. Women would kill themselves to get at him and he wants you. Not in the way you want… But at this point, you don't care.

"Jungkook," you whisper as you rise to your feet. His eyes immediately scan the exposed skin of your chest and thighs.

"Mmm?" he says with a lascivious lick of his lips.

You cross the room in three long strides, startling him with your sudden approach, "Okay," you sigh as you rest your hands on his bare stomach. You watch with interest as his muscles flex under your light touch, "Let's do it."

Jungkook's eyes bulge, "W-wait what? Are you serious?"

At that, you slip your hand under his towel and abruptly grab his dick, "Does it sound like I'm joking?"

The dark-haired man gulps at that, his adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat, "I… ___, what's gotten into you?" He looks a bit worried, but can't help but instantly harden in your hand.

You brush off his concern as you stroke his growing length, examining the way his pupils dilate and his breathing stutters, "Go lie down on the bed."

So startled by your unexpected dominance, Jungkook instinctively obeys, irritably untying the towel from his waist and flinging it across the room before flopping onto the mattress. "This is insane," he laughs, running a hand through his damp hair as he waits for you to join him.

You pluck a condom out of the nightstand, and shimmy out of your underwear before crawling onto the bed after him.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Jungkook marvels as he sits up to reach for you.

You grab his wrist before he can make contact, "Just lie down and wait a minute."

Confused, Jungkook slowly lies back down, but props himself up on his elbows so that he can watch you, "___... you're not some kind of weird sadist, are you?" he asks, playfully trying to make light of the situation.

But you simply shoot him another glare, "Just shut up and hold still." And with that, you grab his dick again, giving him an impromptu handjob to keep him complacent as you prepare the condom.

"Oh god," he groans, "Your hands are fucking amazing."

His compliment sparks warmth in your hollow chest. You hastily roll the condom on, then reach for the bottle of lube from your top drawer to coat him in the slick fluid. Jungkook openly moans his appreciation the entire time, clearly still buzzed from too many tequila shots and disinhibited. In the morning, he might be embarrassed about how vocal he was in bed, but for now, you will relish this treat.

Once he's lubricated from base to tip, you quickly straddle him and position his tip to your entrance. Before you can sit down, a hand grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Wait, ___, I haven't even touched you yet," Jungkook says in a hushed whisper, his brow furrowing in concern, "Why don't you let me go down on—oh fuck!" his words break off into a strangled cry when you abruptly drop down, taking his full length in one fell swoop.

He feels so thick inside of you that for a moment, the hole in your chest is filled. It's been so long since you've last had sex that you can't move for a few seconds, needing the extra time to adjust.

"I thought I wasn't your type, huh?" Jungkook's playful voice breaks the brief moment of silence, "What happened to that, ___?"

Your mouth twists in annoyance. Right when you were getting into it, he had to ruin things. "Shut up," you growl before lifting your hips and violently slamming down on him.

His cocky attitude dissipates at once, replaced entirely by desperation as his hands shoot out to grab your hips. Your hard pace falters at the feeling of his fingers digging into your soft skin. He tries to guide your motions, hands molding to your ass as he slows down your rapid speed and instead making your thrusts slower, deeper. His strength is otherworldly, and within seconds, he's practically doing all the work himself, raising and lowering you on his dick like you're a mere ragdoll in his hands. That won't do.

The copious amount of beer and tequila you've consumed tonight makes it difficult to think, but once you've come to your senses, you hastily slap his hands off of you. He looks confused and makes a motion as if to reach for you again, so you quickly weave your fingers between his and lock your joined hands on either side of his head. When you lean all of your weight onto your interlocked hands, you have him trapped on the mattress, and regain control of the situation.

Using his hands as leverage, you forgo the leisurely strokes he prefers and ride him with vigor, determined to get off as quickly as possible. Your pace turns shallow and rapid-fire when you find that one spot that has his dick brushing your g-spot and his pelvis grinding into your clit with every stroke.

Jungkook manages to get his moaning under control, but can't prevent the ragged, staccato quality of his breathing. His harsh pants and muffled grunts sound so sexy and he feels so delicious filling you up to the brim that if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine that he is someone else. So you squeeze your eyes shut as tightly as you can, focusing all of your attention on the feeling of complete fullness in your core.

It feels so fucking good that you never want it to stop. You wish you could cling onto this feeling forever so you'll never feel empty again.

But at that moment, Jungkook unexpectedly shifts his hips so that he slams directly into your g-spot. You pause for a moment, stunned by the explosion of pleasure that bursts across your senses. You tether on the line for a moment, fighting it back, but it's too late, and your climax washes over you like a wave.

Jungkook gasps at the feeling of you tightening around him, and before you can stop him, he pulls his hands out of your tight grip to grab your hips. With a half dozen more desperate surges forward into your heat, he groans deeply and releases into the condom.

It takes you a full minute to recover from your high. Then you roll off of him to flop lifelessly on the bed. Both of you wince when his spent length slips out of your heat. As soon as he leaves your body, the empty feeling encroaches again. You press both hands tightly to your chest, but it does nothing to fill the void.

"Wow, that was great," Jungkook says as he leisurely stretches his arms above his head before disposing of the condom.

You say nothing in response, gazing aimlessly at Mijoo's empty bed across the room.

Jungkook pauses in scavenging for his abandoned clothing to frown at you, "Are you okay?"

You cringe when he suddenly rejoins you on the bed, arms surrounding your waist to pull you against him in an unexpected hug. Somehow, this feels more intimate than sex. You would've never expected a player like Jungkook to engage in this kind of post-coital skinship.

"Ugh, please don't tell me you're a cuddler," you grumble as you twist in his embrace.

"I'm not," he denies, but the way he buries his nose in your hair says otherwise, "And don't think about asking me to stay the night, because I'm not that kind of guy."

You grimace at the very thought, "I don't even want you here right now. But I thought you needed somewhere to sleep?"

He grins at that, "I thought you knew me better than to take anything I said seriously?"

"Ugh. I should've known… All you fuckboys are the same."

He chuckles at your reaction, "Just give me a kiss and I'll leave."

You hurriedly twist your head to the side before his lips can make contact with yours, "Gross."

"We just fucked, and you think a kiss is gross?" Jungkook asks incredulously.

"Yeah. Don't kiss me," you say, irritably shoving at his shoulder to try to create distance between the two of you.

Jungkook snorts as he obediently rolls out of your bed, "I thought girls liked this kind of touchy feely bullshit. You're so weird."

"I do like it, but not from you," you shoot back.

"Ouch, babe," he says with a shake of his head as he tugs on his boxers and jeans, "What does Jimin have that I don't?"

He means it in a teasing way. He's not serious… There's no way he knows how close to home his comment hit. But still… you can't help but bristle in response, "Manners."

Jungkook bursts into laughter at the insult, "I'm really not the bad guy you make me out to be. If you'd get to know me, you'd see that."

"I don't want to get to know you," is your blunt response.

Jungkook's smile widens, "I'm glad that we're on the same page, then," he says as he slips his shirt over his head, "I won't call you."

"Good," you retort as you watch him slip his phone into his pocket and walk out the door without a second glance, "I'm blocking your number."

He lets you have the last word as he shakes his head in amusement and closes the door behind him. And then you're all alone in the empty room, left wondering what Mijoo and Jimin are doing on the other side of town.

A/N: So this chapter might be longer than any full length fic i’ve ever written... Yikes.

As always, please don’t ask me about updates! You’ll find out more about the plot and the reason for the title in the following chapters ^^

But I definitely recommend that you listen to New Rules by Dua Lipa and download the podcast “Just Sex” by NPR Hidden Brain. They are what inspired this fic!

#noonanet #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook smut #bts smut #new rules

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